#who says tear it down? Tricks very calmly with no music or anything goes 'You Vault Hunters are all the same. I'm coming for you Lilith.' an

[hyperionshipping]

Think the twins don't even care about Tricks because bandits dying is not all that concerning and I think people assumed "that little dog of Jack's" died with him.

I think Tricks only becomes a hassle sometime later on. But no one can seem to find him... Lilith keeps dealing with vandalization and her already small crew getting picked off ("It's like a professional is hitting us. I... I think I know who it is") and, I think, just because he can he fucks with streams/the towers. He's got so much hate in his body.

Oh, and Jack's shield. Now you see him, now you don't, and now a corrosive bullets lodged in the worst spot it could be. Killing you agonizingly slow! If he doesn't shoot again and... oh. He did already

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

FIRSTS | RH

Ricky Horror | 1,939 Words

Smut

Ricky was a loner. No doubt about it. It was pretty plain to see. So it came as no surprise he didn’t have very many friends... He hoped that by junior year he would’ve had more friends than this. But he guessed that the four he had would be just fine. The four guys he’d hang around were quite the bunch, sometimes they jammed out together since they all seemed to play some instrument for a rock band, sometimes they’d sit around and listen to music, or Ricky’s least favorite option... Prank Chris’s older sister.

Chris was your younger brother and god was he a nuisance. Him and his little gang of friends would come over almost every night since your dad was a trucker, meaning he was out for a lot of the time. He really only came home to check on you both on weekends, the only time he could really have off. Your mom decided not to stick around very long when you were young so she wasn’t an issue for the boys either. They just loved to torment you.

Chris was the asshole of the group, Vinny was the wild idiot, Ryan was the crafty stoner, Justin was the devil respawned, and Ricky... Poor little Ricky. Sometimes you wondered how the kid got dragged into their group. He seemed nothing like them in everything but style. He was sweet. Always gave you shy glances, quickly looking away when he realized you’d caught him. He was the quiet one of the friends. But you knew he was damn smart. 

But overall, they were all just perverted teens. 

And the one thing you despised about all of them was their love to play tricks on you. That’s why you stayed in your room for the majority of the time they were at your house. You remembered when you came home from going and getting some snacks at the gas station since you had none at home, only to go up to your room and see Vinny looking through your underwear drawer. That’s when you started not leaving your room.

Another time Ryan decided to take a few pictures while you were bending over to look in the freezer for something to make for dinner. You honestly didn’t think your skirt was that short. Just goes to show boys will lay flat on their stomach for a look up there. You only knew it when everyone was filing out to leave and go home, Ricky came up to you and told you. 

Chris was just along for the ride. He thought it was funny. Sometimes he’d snap your bra straps or tell you that you looked funny. Brotherly love as people liked to call it. But he never took part in the perverted antics, only laughed to you about them after. Salt in the wound.

Ricky never tried anything on you, and for that you were thankful. But this was until the guys put him up to it.

The one time you decided to come out of your room that night when you thought you were finally alone. You get a bucket of water dumped on you in the kitchen by the one and only Ricky. You stood there in shock, soaked to the bone in your white crop top and black shorts. You heard a chorus of wolf whistles from the guys who were littered around the kitchen. Vinny sitting on the table staring you down, Chris had shouted moments before that he was going to get pizza so he wasn’t around for the scene, Justin standing by the door with a smirk, Ryan behind you clapping, and poor Ricky right in front of you with the most fearful expression on.

You knew that the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra was obvious through the soaked white shirt and you were totally embarrassed. Wrapping your arms around your chest, you try to make your way to the stairs, only to be blocked by Justin.

“Y/N, our friend Ricky here needs some help and we thought you’d be the best to help him. Since you probably want to get your clothes off anyway.” You can practically hear the smirk in Ryan’s voice without having to turn around. You hear the sound of him moving closer and you stand there with your back to him as you feel his breath on your neck. “You should help Rick out. He has been talking about you all night you know...” 

Why would he be talking about you? You didn’t think you were anything special... Just your brother’s sister. He couldn’t think you were attractive! Could he...?

You turn around and look at Ricky who’s still holding the bucket that’s now empty and his cheeks are a bright red and you almost find it amusing. You were only a year older than him and it seems to you that you’d gotten more action than he has. You could tell he was pretty clueless about the whole subject but you almost wanted the challenge. 

You motioned with two fingers for him to come to you. His eyes snap open wide with shock and he drops the plastic bucket onto the tiled floor. You motion one more time and he scurries over to you, standing in front of you and trying to keep his eyes at a respectable level. You tried not to chuckle as you see his eyes wander. He was so nervous he was about to piss himself. You, a hot girl, were about to hopefully have sex with him. But then again, he didn’t even know if that was really the case. You could just bring him upstairs and lock him in a room until the end of the night. He didn’t know. But your boobs were quite distracting right now and his pants seemed to be rather tight. 

You grab his hand and push past Justin, dragging Ricky up the stairs with you. More whistles came from the guys as you two made your way to your room. 

Once you shut the door behind you both, you threw off your tiny black shorts, leaving you in lacy black underwear that Ricky couldn’t tear his eyes away from. You were not going to lay on your bed in wet shorts. Your shirt will come off next but you’ll leave a little work for Ricky. The boy needs to use his pencil arms anyway. Maybe he’ll get a workout in out of this. 

You sit on the edge of your bed and look over at him as he’s standing in the doorway. He has absolutely no clue of what to do and you can totally tell. 

“Ricky... Have you ever seen a girl in her underwear?” You ask.

You didn’t think it was possible but his blush only deepens as he shakes his head and looks at his feet. 

“Come here.” You say calmly. 

He does as you ask and stands in front of you.

“Do you want to do this?”

He shrugs.

“I need a yes or no Ricky.” You sigh.

“Y-yes...”

You smile and carefully lift his shirt over his head. He’s as skinny as you imagined him to be. You grab his hands softly and put them on the hem of your shirt. You could feel them shake as he pulled your shirt over your head. He stares shamelessly at your breasts, taking in the sight. You chuckle and undo his belt, throwing it to the other side of the room and he wastes no time chucking off his skinny jeans. 

You glance down at him and you are pleasantly surprised by what you see. His black boxers are definitely tight and you feel a surge of heat down there. You shouldn’t be as excited as you are but goddamnit you don’t care.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You ask sweetly.

He shakes his head no once again.

“Would you like to try?”

He nods.

You put his shaking hands on your hips as you stand up, resting your arms loosely around his neck. You lean in and kiss his lips softly, pulling away after a few seconds. 

“Wasn’t so hard huh?” You smile.

He smiles in response, you’d never really realized how beautiful his smile was. It was cute, heart shaped.

He leans in for another kiss, this time much more passionate and heated. He was obviously a fast learner. You both end up on your bed, your bra and underwear had quickly disappeared along with his boxers. You guided his hands to your breasts and he gave them a slight squeeze, rolling your nipple between his fingers. He was hesitant about touching any girls breasts but he slowly warmed up to the idea. You let out a shaky breath as he kisses your neck hesitantly. 

He’d seen the guys do something like this at parties. He knew they’d reach down and start touching on the girls they were with so that’s exactly what he did. Slowly he snaked his hand down your torso, rubbing a few circles on your hip bones with his thumb before continuing down, rubbing on the place it really mattered. 

He smirked into the crook of your neck when you moaned quietly. He felt acomplished in a sense, that he could make a girl as beautiful as you have this reaction to a simple touch. He was so fucking hard and honestly he didn’t know what to do. It was almost painful. 

“Rick.” You mumbled breathlessly as you throw a packet at him. “Put this on.” 

He looked down at the packet that was on the bed. A condom. Of course. He tore open the wrapping with his teeth and rolled it on. He had no clue what to do from here. None whatsoever. He didn’t even know where the fuck to put his dick. 

You saw the shyness flood back in his body and you knew exactly why. “Do you want some help?” You smile up at him.

His cheeks turn a bright red as he nods. You help guide him in the right direction until he understands, slowly pushing himself in. He has to bite his lip in order to keep a moan in. Shit you felt so good and he hadn’t even done anything yet!

You nod after a few moments, letting him know that you’ve adjusted. He takes the queue and slowly thrusts in and out. Whoa this was new. Really fucking new and he loved it. He gets to a better pace and he leans down, kissing you lightly. He didn’t know if he was doing a good job, but he was taking the moans you let out as a good sign though. 

It didn’t take him all that long to finish. He felt completely wasted as he continued, trying to get you off as well. You gripped the sheets tightly, squirming every couple seconds with your eyes tightly shut. He smirked as he reached down and rubbed your clit. Your orgasm was coming up fast and shit was Ricky doing a way too good job for his first time. 

You felt your thighs shake as you came, letting out an embarrassingly loud moan that you’re 100% sure they heard downstairs if they weren’t already standing outside your door. You look up at Ricky with half lidded eyes and a smile. He slowly pulls out and falls down onto the bed next to you. 

“That was... Awesome..” He says softly as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“Well come back anytime.” You chuckle and kiss his cheek.

Oh he will surely do that. Don’t you worry.

[anathewierdo]

Call of the Ocean  Chapter 10: She’s Real

Pairing: CEO!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 5760

Chapter summary: After a heart-wrenching encounter with his ex and his Pop’s party, Dean goes back to Matagorda to get started on his new life and... well, I think the title kind of sort of gives away the rest 😉

Series summary: CEO of Winchester Auto Dean Winchester has had enough of the office life. With his father keeping him from what he wants to do, which is work on the plant floor, Dean decides to leave for a quiet life. In Matagorda, Texas, he finds something he never thought he would, a chance encounter with a mythical creature.

Call of the Ocean Masterlist

A/N: Ma dudes, life is crazy. It’s Independence Day here in Mexico, I just volunteered to be an online teacher for a social service program and I am swamped in assignments... It’s interesting, to say the least. This has all put a damper on all of my WIP’s and I am desperate to put something else out there besides this amazing series (’cause I do have some stuff I think y’all would like :) ). This series is a collaboration with @flamencodiva​ . Lovely text banners made by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89​

Next chapter will be posted this saturday, september 19th :D

“Hi, Dean,” Cassie said before biting her lip. She seemed nervous. “I was hoping we could talk?” 

“I--” Dean wasn’t sure what to say as he brought his glass to his lips and took a sip. 

The amber liquid flowed down his throat giving him a slight burn. There was so much he wanted to say to her. Mostly he wanted to tell her to fuck off, but to make a scene in the ballroom would have all eyes on him. The last thing he needed was his family to be embarrassed.   

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Cassie,” he gave her a soft smile. “Go back inside, have a good time.”

“But Dean, I–”

“Please, Cassie. I said no. I– I can’t. Go back inside. Let me at least have a decent, calm night.”

“Five minutes, Dean,” she begged. “Just five minutes and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked her in the eyes, trying to catch his breath and get a grip of himself without being too obvious. The one thing that flashed in his mind were the last words she uttered when he was down on his knee asking to marry her. ‘I cheated on you’. Those words had tore through him like a samurai sword slicing a bamboo tree. One look into her eyes through her mask made his heart clench. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he clenched his jaw and held on to his whiskey glass for dear life. 

“Five minutes,” he conceded. 

“That’s all I ask for,” Cassie nodded.

He didn’t let her take his hand, but he allowed her to guide him outside of the venue without anyone noticing. She always knew how to sneak them out of events like this to have some alone time, when she was feeling overwhelmed or he was feeling a bit too tired for him to keep up a friendly face. A little escapade, a little chat, a few kisses (sometimes more), and they would be alright again. His heart clenched a little at the memories.

When they stopped at the edge of the garden, he was pretty sure no one would come looking here for them. He could just barely make out the music that was playing; there was no way in hell anyone would hear whatever they were going to discuss.

“Say what you need to say,” Dean sighed as he looked at his watch. “Clock is ticking and I have to hit the road soon.” 

“I know we left it in a very, very bad place, Dean,” She licked her lips and took in a deep breath. “I know nothing I say will ever get you to forgive me… but I am so very sorry.” 

“Okay?” Dean gave a shrug. “You’re sorry. Which sorry are we? Sorry for leading me on? Sorry for lying to my face for who knows how long while you were seeing someone else behind my back? Or sorry that you destroyed five years of not just a relationship, but our friendship?” 

“For everything, Dean,” she replied. “I fucked up, and I am so, so sorry… when I woke up the next morning and I realized that the man lying beside me wasn’t you and I– I panicked. I couldn’t believe I had done that and I just–”

“Save it, Cassie,” Dean shook his head. “You’re sorry? Ok. Why couldn’t you just tell me that you didn’t love me anymore? Or was it when I told you that I was thinking about not being CEO anymore that you saw the dollar signs fly away?” he sneered. 

“I was not dating you for the money and you know that, Dean.”

“Could have fooled me,” he huffed. “I gave you everything I had Cassie. I gave you a piece of me I never showed anyone! And you sit there telling me it wasn’t about the money? Then what?” 

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “All I know is that I couldn’t believe I had done it. I never– I never meant to hurt you, Dean, I swear. And I didn’t want to lose you, I–” she stuttered. “But then I saw you down on one knee and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with you knowing I had done that. I swear, I never meant to hurt you, Dean.”

“Well, you did.” -- he took a long sip of his whiskey and smacked his lips together-- “you said you were sorry, okay. Your time is up.” he looked down at the ground. Knowing that if he looked at her the wall would break. “I hope you have a nice life, I’m leaving in a few minutes. Kansas isn’t my home anymore.” 

“I hope wherever you’re going is a good home for you, then,” she mumbled. “I wish you the best, Dean. I really do.”

Dean didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded his head and went around Cassie to go back to the party. He stopped after a few steps.

“When did it happen?”

He was certain that her answer to his question would not do him any favors. If anything, it would make the pain worse and open up wounds he thought were healed.

But he had to know.

“Remember that last trip I took with a couple of my friends from work? The little town they wanted to visit for all that bird-seeing?”

Dean nodded, “I remember. You were excited and I bought you everything you needed.” 

“Mhm… On the second day of that trip, we met this guy, one of the guides they had around. He was nice, invited me for a few drinks… and I didn’t say no… You know what happened next.”

Just like the night she confessed, the night she refused his proposal, Dean felt his heart shatter all over again. He had his answer, he was hurt.

But he was done.

Turning around one last time to look at Cassie, he gave her a wobbly smile and felt the tears pool in his eyes. 

“Thank you.” he nodded. “Have a nice life, Cassie. I hope I never see you again.”

“Dean--” she tried to reach for him but stop when she met his angry glare. 

“I got my answer. You knew for a month and strung me along,” he shook his head. “Just stay away from my family, Cassie. Don’t come to these things anymore. You broke what we had, there is no saving that. So I hope the next guy you decide to string along, won’t go for your bullshit.” 

With those last words, Dean opened the door into the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd. He made a beeline for the bar holding his empty glass. He knew he had promised, but fuck if he didn’t need another drink before he hit the road. He regretted listening to her, but he had closure, he got the answer that had plagued him for a good six months. As he placed a generous tip into the bartender’s tip jar, he never noticed Sam standing next to him. 

“Are you ok, Dean? What happened?”

“I’m fine Sam,” Dean hissed. “Just fine. Going to head out in a few anyways. The food sucks so I might get a burger before I hit the highway.” 

A smack across his head made him jump to turn and see his grandmother behind him. 

“Hi, Nana,” he gave her a sheepish smile.   

“Dean, so help me you are not going to cut out early. You will sit at the family table, eat the dinner your mother and I picked, and try to make it clear to Ms. Braeden that she is a leech.” She grabbed the whiskey glass from him and drank it. 

“I-- Nana, that’s--” Dean stopped when he met her glare. “Yes ma’am,” he grumbled. 

“Besides,” she placed the whiskey glass on the bar top and linked her arm with Dean’s. “Don’t worry, you are going to sit next to me, Sam is going to sit next to Pop’s and your father will sit next to Jessica far away from you. I also believe you said you were driving back to Texas tonight so no more whiskey.” 

“Yes, Nana,” Dean grumbled as she led them towards the dining area. Dean sighed when he noticed Lisa staring at him. “Ms. Braeden.” 

“Shall we go have dinner, Dean?” she held up her arm for him.

With a grunt, he reluctantly took her arm in his and made his way towards his seat. He helped Lisa into hers before sitting next to her. Sliding his chair slightly away from her, he smiled as he looked over the menu. He cursed himself for insulting The hor dourves. Looking at the main menu he knew his Pop’s had picked the food. Ribeye steak with fries and wild rice. 

“Didn't think I was going to let Nana put rabbit food out here, did you?” Samuel had leaned over to whisper to his grandson. 

Dean laughed, “No sir. I guess not.”   

Dean was grateful to not be near his Dad. He stiffened when he felt Lisa’s hand on his thigh and coughed giving her a sideways glance. Calmly, he reached down and removed her hand giving her a soft glare. 

“Ms. Braeden,” he huffed. “We are at a respectable party. Compose yourself.” 

“But Dean…” she whined softly. “Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere private and put those hands to good use?”

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole,” he growled into her ear. “I am in no mood for your games. And if this is how a VP of a company tries to close her deals it makes me wonder what kind of business you want us to enter with?” 

“And where was this attitude when we were having such a nice time the last time I saw you?”

“That was a lapse in judgment,” Dean sighed. “It won’t happen again. Now, I suggest you behave in a professional manner or you will force me to reconsider the contract,” he growled glaring at her. 

That seemed to do the trick as she licked her lips and cleared her throat. She seemed to realize that she had tried to push him a tad too far. Sitting back she huffed, much to Dean’s relief. He smiled when the food came and began to dig in. He and his grandfather continued to talk about Matagorda and his operations. He was excited to start right away. He mentioned that the former owner of the garage also owned a scrap yard, meaning Dean could restore some of the cars. If the business went well, Dean offered his grandfather a place to test the new engines and maybe make it a small branch of their corporation. 

“Now I do need to come to visit and see your garage,” Samuel smiled. 

“Garage?” John piped in from behind.   

“Just a small venture I’m sending Dean on,” Samuel winked. “The boy found something that could help us be more independent in our engine building. I like it.” 

“What?!”

“We can talk later, Pop’s. Besides,” Dean pushed his empty plate away. “Now, where is the dessert table?” 

Samuel let out a laugh as the desert table was presented with a cake in the center and an assortment of other treats around it. 

“Ms. Braeden I hope you have had a wonderful time. But, once I finish dessert I will be making my way to my new home.” Dean reached into his wallet and pulled out a few cash bills to hand to her. “That should cover a cab back to where you are staying.” 

With that, he ignored his father’s stares and made his way to the dessert table. Sam had watched the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. But he knew something was off with Dean. Surveying the surroundings, Sam’s eyes landed on a familiar person and he sighed. He figured out Dean’s mood. Cassie must have cornered him. Walking to his brother, he cleared his throat. 

“So, you have a good night? Anyone catch your eye?” Sam tried to act casual. 

“Not really,” Dean looked over the different pies and frowned. “Man, I can’t pick one. They all look good!” he grumbled. 

“They do…” Sam conceded. “So… I just happened to see a familiar face…”

“Drop it, Sam,” Dean sighed as he picked up a place and placed a slice of pecan pie and a slice of apple pie. 

“What did she tell you? What happened?”

“She tried to apologize, I ripped her a new one and called her a gold digger.” Dean sighed. “Can we please just drop it. I’m never seeing her again, and I told her to not come to these things anymore.” Dean watched as Sam grabbed a fruit tart and rolled his eyes. 

“What?!” Sam exclaimed, then quickly composed himself at the reminder that they weren’t alone. “No. Nonononononono no you have to tell me everything– Dean, did you really– “

“What are you, a girl?” Dean raised his brow at his brother. “Look, she asked if she could talk to me, I gave her five minutes.” he made his way towards their table and Sam took Lisa’s unoccupied seat. “So we walk to the garden and she went in on how sorry she was and I asked sorry for what part of her being a bitch. She all but said that she had cheated me on that trip she went on a month before I proposed.”  Dean let out in one breath. “So I just told her that she wasn’t welcome to these events anymore.” 

“Holy crap.” Sam gasped. “Holy crap. Dean, I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s no big deal,” Dean tried to take a bite but stopped when Sam hugged him. 

“It is.” His little brother smiled. “It really is.”

“Can you be any more annoying, Bitch?” Dean growled as he gave his brother his best bitch face. “I’m trying to eat my pie.” 

“Ok, ok, eat your pie, you jerk.” Sam conceded. “Any other plans and interesting chats for the night?”

“Well, I’m going to enjoy my dessert and head on out. Benny sent me a message saying that Cas decided to join us, so they are both on their way. I need to find a spot to rest in between my drive back to Matagorda.” Dean smiled. 

“Well, from the way I see it,” Sam returned a smile of his own, “everything is starting to look up for you, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean smiled. 

Dean beamed as he devoured the two slices of pie. With a look around he noticed his mother and Nana together. He decided it was time to say his goodbyes and make the twelve-hour drive back. He walked over and cleared his throat. 

“Ladies,” He smiled. “I need to make my twelve-hour drive. So I came to say goodbye.” He gave them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Please call when you get there,” His mother caressed his cheek. “I don’t need to worry.” 

“Same goes for me young man,” Deana hugged him tightly. “You call me so that Pop’s and I won’t worry.” 

“I promise,” Dean smiled as he walked away and found Sam and Jess talking with some of the other company lawyers. “Bye Duffus,” he punched Sam’s shoulder. “Bye short stack.” 

“Be careful on your way home, ok?” Jess raised her eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah,” He hugged them both before waving at his grandfather who was distracting his father. 

Jogging to his car, he froze when he noticed someone leaning against it. There stood Lisa Braeden. His jaw clenched in anger as he grabbed his keys ignoring her.

“Decided to leave without saying goodbye?” she removed her mask and looked at him. “You know I liked flirty you better.”   

“I thought I told you to be professional?” Dean growled. 

“What’s the matter, Dean?” Lisa walked to him, she was trying to pull out all the stops. “Do you really need to go that bad that you can’t have a bit of--” she placed herself dangerously close to him, “fun.”  

“Ms. Braeden, it seems to me that you cannot comprehend the meaning of the word no. And I don’t have time to explain it to you.” He peeled himself away from her. “I need to go.”

Dean made his way to the driver’s side and climbed in, quickly locking the door and starting the engine. He wasted no time in peeling out of the parking spot he was in and making his way to the highway, heading to Texas. 

About an hour in on his trip, his phone started ringing. 

“Hello?” Dean sighed. He realized he hadn’t checked who it was and sighed when a voice screamed in his ear. 

“Where the fuck are you?!” His father’s voice made him put the phone away from his ear, cringing at the volume his father was screaming at. “And would you care to explain to me why I just received the news that Benny and Castiel quit the company?!”

“Huh?” Dean began making stacking noises. “Dad? Is that you? I can’t hear you.” He smiled to himself. 

“Do not fucking play dumb, Dean Winchester!”

“Hello?” Dean continued to play dumb. “Hello? Dad? Look if you can hear me, I guess you should know that I’m opening my own garage so I guess I took the best guys for the job with me. So you go ahead and have fun replacing them.” Dean pulled the phone away and hung up before his father could respond. 

Dean put his phone on silent as his father tried to continue to call him. It was nice to make his father angry. He knew that Benny and Cas were the backbones of their departments. Benny especially at the plant. Plus now that he was out of there, it would be hard to maintain clients. Halfway along his trip, he found a motel in Ada, Oklahoma.  After making himself as comfortable as he could be in a motel, he grabbed his phone to see twelve missed calls from his dad. 

“Wow,” he chuckled. “He must be really pissed.” 

Pressing a button, Dean decided to check his voicemail.

“Dean, answer your goddamn phone! What the fuck did you do?! What in the hell are you doing heading back to Nowhere, Texas?! Get your ass back here and do your job as the company’s CEO!”

*Beep* 

“DEAN! GOD DAMN IT! What the hell is going on? You need to answer me damn it!” 

*Beep* 

“Dean you better fucking answer your phone!”

*Beep*

“Dean if you don’t call me back you can kiss coming home goodbye! If this is how you are going to thank me for trying to --” 

He cut the message off, not wanting to listen anymore. 

“Sorry dad,” he tossed the phone to the side, then slid his hands across his face.

Picking up his phone, he looked at the time and dialed his mother.  It rang a few times before he heard the sound of her picking it up. 

“Mom?” He sighed. 

“Hang on a second, honey,” his mother mumbled. He heard his mother’s footsteps for a few seconds, and the sound of a door closing. “Where are you, Dean?”

“Motel in Oklahoma,” he answered. “How– How’s Dad?”

“Sleeping on the couch,” she sighed. “He’s upset. But I laid into him really good. I know that he said you can never come back, but don’t listen to him. You just keep ignoring him. I think he’s just hurt. He had big dreams for you, but he has to realize that his dreams aren’t your dreams.” 

“I know, Ma,” He sighed. “Just… make sure you keep him in line, I guess. I just miss how we used to be before he got this idea of me being behind the desk.” 

“I will try, Dean, believe that,” Mom promised. “I’ll see what I can do… For now, just get yourself to Matagorda. Your business is not going to open itself.” 

“I was just calling to check-in,” he muttered. “Going to sleep and I’ll call you when I make it to the house.” 

“Thank you for doing that, seriously. And hey, cheer up honey, you’re gonna do great in Texas,” she assured. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Ma,” Dean gave a soft chuckle. “I’ll invite you over once everything is settled. I should get some sleep.” 

“I can’t wait to see that famous house near the beach of yours,” Mary chuckled. “Good night, hun.”

Dean hung up the phone and plopped himself on the bed. He didn’t bother with changing out of his clothes, but he did kick off his dress shoes. He would worry about it in the morning. He drifted off to sleep, his mind wandering to his beach house.

It happened again. He could feel the salty sea air hitting his face. The sun shone brightly as he looked over the railing of his porch and watched where the shore met the water. The sounds of the waves crashing seemed to soothe him. 

‘Dean’ 

The voice sounded like a melody. He stood straight as he looked around for the source. He walked down the porch steps and made his way to the shore. He was barefoot, and as he neared the edge he could feel the water splash along his feet, the sand squishing between his toes. 

A few yards away, close enough to the sea to let the water splash her up to her ankles, was standing the same woman from his other dream. She was wearing a green sundress, her hair loose and flowing with the wind. He found his way towards her, but the closer he tried to get, the farther away she seemed to be. 

‘Wait,’ he called out. ‘Come back.’

Dean found himself surrounded in darkness before the feel of arms held him back. He turned to see Lisa holding on to him. 

‘She’s not what you want, Dean.’ 

He shook his head. ‘You don’t know anything about what I want.’

‘But you are mine, Dean.’ she hissed. ‘I’m not going to let you go.’

Dean felt himself struggling to get out of her grasp until he was engulfed in darkness.

He sat up on the bed, his face covered in sweat and his heartbeat going fast. Looking at the time, he had only gotten five hours of sleep. 

“Dammit,” he cursed. 

The dream was worse than the others. It was ominous, and the fact that Lisa was in it made him shudder. Shedding his designer suit, he took a quick shower. Letting the hot water wash off all his worry. All he needed to do was get back home and relax. 

It was barely nine am by the time he checked out of the little motel. He bought himself a breakfast burrito and a soda from a nearby fast-food restaurant and went back to the road. Matagorda was so close yet still so far away. He was itching to get there and just be in his home. As he was on the road his phone began to ring. This time he made sure to check the caller ID before answering. 

“Benny!” Dean smiled. “You find the house okay?” 

“We sure did, De!” Benny greeted. “Can’t believe you found such a nice little cozy place.”

“You and Andrea can use one of the rooms. The one at the end of the hall on the second floor is mine. Make yourselves at home.” Dean smiled and looked at the time. “I should be there in a few hours.” 

“Thanks, brother. Andrea and I are going to take good care of this place while you get here.”

“Just make sure you guys take a look around.” He smiled. “Once I get there we’ll head to the market and I can cook us up some grub. Did Cas make it yet?” 

“He had to stay back and deal with some last-minute stuff. Should be here somewhere between tonight and tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good.” Dean smiled. “I’ll let you and Andrea get settled. Just make sure you guys are dressed by the time I get there.” he teased. 

Benny’s laugh was loud even on the phone. “I make no promises! Get here in one piece, brother.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean laughed. “Just make sure I don’t see your pale ass when I get home okay. I should be there in about three more hours.” 

“Got it! See ya later, brother!”

With that Dean hung up the phone and focused on driving. He couldn’t wait to get things started. The first thing he was going to do was to dive into the ocean. Even after moving in, he hadn’t so much as dipped a toe into, what looked like, the refreshing ocean water. 

Three hours later and he sighed in relief when his new home came into view. The rumble of the impala soothed him as he pulled up next to Benny’s own Chevy. A nice cherry red Camaro in pristine condition. It was one of the things that made him like Benny when they first met. Their love of girls, booze, and cars. Benny helped him pick himself up after Cassie. Hell, Benny was the one who stopped him from trying to win Cassie back one night when he got blacked out drunk. He was glad Benny came with him. He couldn’t see himself doing this venture with anyone else. Grabbing what bags he could, he fished his house keys out of his pocket and made his way up. With a smile, he unlocked the door, and slightly opened it, before kicking it with a force. 

“Honey, I’m HOME!” He belted out with a laugh as Benny and Andrea rushed to see what the commotion was.  

Benny almost tackled him in a hug, then punched him hard on the shoulder when he pulled away. “Fuck you, you son of a bitch! You scared the crap out of me!”

“It’s a good thing you’re dressed. Anyways,” Dean laughed. “You two take your time, I can head to the market and pick up some food to cook. Fish okay?” 

“More than okay,” Andrea nodded. “We’ll set the table and get everything ready for when you come back.”

“I’ll just put my stuff in my room and head out,” Dean walked past Benny and up the stairs making his way to his room at the end of the hall. 

He had picked the room because it was closest to the small cliff. He could hear the waves crashing in the middle of the night. With a smile, he took in his surroundings. He felt at home. 

As small as Matagorda is, the food, as far as Dean is concerned, is freaking amazing.

Being so small and so close to the Gulf, Matagorda is a hot spot for fishing. Fresh produce from the ocean hits the market every day, and Dean, being anxious to learn how to cook everything Matagorda had to offer, introducing himself as the new mechanic, asking around with some of the locals to learn the best tips to make some decent grub.

Ellen had been the nicest one, showing him around the best places to eat, taught him how to tell the difference between the good produce and the not-so-good ones. Climbing into Baby, after putting away his stuff, he drove down the small street, the only one really, that led to Mainstreet and the market.

With traffic being basically nonexistent, the trip took less than he expected (Dean still hadn’t gotten used to getting somewhere, anywhere really, so quick), and parked his car outside one of the best places to buy fish around there according to Ellen: Buddy’s Market & Seafood. He smiled and waved at some of the neighbors who he had met when he first moved in. Some of them blushed as he walked by.

“Mrs. Baker,” he gave her a small wave. 

As he walked by he couldn’t help but smile when he heard her whisper. 

“That’s the new Mechanic I was telling you about Betty,” she gushed. “Easy on the eyes, if you ask me.”

“More like a sexy stud muffin,” Betty had whispered back. “Is he single?” 

“I think so,” Mrs. Baker smiled. “But don’t even think about it. I already have my Granddaughter coming to this year’s Clam Bake. I call dibs!”

Dean shook his head as he walked inside. Heading towards the section of the store where they kept the fresh produce, Dean looked around for anything that wouldn’t be too difficult to make (he was good, thank you very much, but fish is fucking tricky). Catching sight of a few fish on the display case, he smiled at seeing crevalle jacks amongst it. He was walking along with the case when he bumped into someone. 

“I’m sorry,” the voice made him freeze. He recognized it. 

Turning around, he came face to face with the woman of his dreams.

“It’s no problem,” he assured her with a soft smile, trying as hard as he could not let it show how stunned he was. 

“I should be more careful,” she tucked a few of her stray hairs behind her ear. “My friend says I’m worse than a guppy who got lost in the ocean.” she chuckled. And seemed to freeze in embarrassment.  

Dean cocked an eyebrow, “well, that is an analogy I had not heard yet.”

“I’m not from around here,” she blushed. “I’m visiting a friend.” she avoided looking at him, scared of embarrassing herself anymore. 

He was about to introduce himself in an attempt to take away some of the awkwardness she was feeling but was caught off by none other than Ellen Harvelle.

“Y/N!” Ellen gave a deep sigh of relief. “Darlin’ you move faster than a dang cheetah. I thought I lost you.” she shook her head and turned to smile at Dean. “Well hey, Dean! Didn’t realize you got back.” 

“I just did, Ellen,” he smiled back, “Hit town about less than an hour ago and I want to buy something for a couple of guests I have back home. Was thinking of giving them a crevalle jack.”

“And here I figured you were a steak and lobster kind of man,” Ellen let out a laugh. “Oh,” she smiled and turned to Y/N. “Y/N, this is Dean. He is my next-door neighbor. Dean this is Y/N, she’s visiting from out of town.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Dean winked as he offered his hand for her to shake.

Y/N stared at his hand for a moment, before realizing what he was doing and put her hand in his, remembering what Ellen had taught her about handshakes and gave him a strong grip. “Nice to meet you too.” 

Dean felt a small jolt of electricity as his hand touched hers. He couldn’t help but look deep into her eyes and felt the wind get knocked out of him. He hadn’t noticed he was holding on to her hand longer than he should. 

“Is he supposed to hold my hand for this long?” she whispered to Ellen. Not realizing that Dean could hear her. 

“Oh! No– I’m so sorry,” he stuttered as he let go of her, giving an apologetic look. “I just got distracted for a moment, thinking about ways to cook that crevalle.”

“Dean, are you sure you want to cook it? If not cooked properly, you could poison someone.” Ellen raised a brow at him. “There is nothing wrong with traditional steak and lobster.” 

He turned to look at the older woman. “Hmm? Oh, yeah… I hadn’t thought of that part…” he confessed as he scratched the back of his head. “Maybe I will stick to the steak. I haven’t had my cooking classes with you yet, Ellen.” He gave both women a sheepish smile.

“Well,” Ellen smiled at the way Dean looked at Y/N. “I’m sure the next time Y/N comes to town she would be sure to join you. I’m teaching her how to cook shrimp gumbo tonight.” 

“Ellen, I… I’m sure Dean has better things to do than watch me learn to cook--” Y/N looked down at her shoes. 

“Nonsense!” Ellen assured her, “I, for one, could use another couple of extra hands to help me teach you and Thasman how to cook. And Dean here definitely needs to learn how to properly cook with fish. Win-win, ya see?”

“Is Thasman your boyfriend?” Dean felt his heart sink a bit when he heard that there was a man with Y/N. 

“Oh, Poseidon, no!” she exclaimed, shaking her head frantically, “He’s my friend, we came here together.”

Dean smiled at her exclamation, “Never heard anyone use Poseidon’s name like that. I like it.”  

“There are a lot of things she and Thasman do differently.” Ellen smiled fondly at her, “you’d be surprised.”

“I think we need to find those shrimps you mentioned, Ellen.” Y/N blushed furiously as she played with the hem of her shirt nervously. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Dean.”

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Dean gave her a bright smile. “Will you be back in time for the Clam Bake in a few weeks?” He had said it before he stopped himself.

“I do hope so,” Ellen chimed in. “Are you askin’ her out, Campbell?”

“I thought she could use a friendly face to help ease her,” Dean defended. “Besides, I’m new to the area too. We could both learn together.”  

“I don’t know,” she whispered sadly. “I might have a prior engagement.” With a deep breath, she gave him a soft smile. “It was very nice to meet you.” 

With that, she excused herself and began to walk away. Ellen tilted her head at how sad Y/N looked. 

“Huh,” she gave Dean a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll see what I can do to get her here for the Clambake. You worry about feedin’ your friends!”  

“Thanks, Ellen,” Dean gave her a soft smile. “I hope I didn’t offend her. I was only trying to be friendly.” 

“I don’t think you did boy, don’t worry.” Ellen sympathized. “I gotta go before I lose her again. See you later, Dean.”

“I’ll see you around, Ellen,” he smiled as she made her way to chase after Y/N. 

He couldn’t believe it. The girl of his dreams bumped into him. But there was something wrong. She looked sad. Almost as if she was worried about something. 

Whatever it was, he hoped it wouldn’t stop her from seeing him again.

And so there’s chapter 10! 

Any and all types of feedback is greatly appreciated :D

My asks are open in case you wanna send feedback, have questions or wanna be added to the tag list :)

My requests are also open, in case you want me to write something specific.

Call of the Ocean tag list: (if your username is in bold italics, that means tumblr didn’t let me tag you)

@67-chevy-baby​ @tmiships4life @cloudyskylines​ @chelsea072498​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @samanddeanwinchester67​ @thatgirl1456​ @satans-0-spawn​ @waywardrose13​ @secretsthathauntus​ @parinarain​ @swagfancroissantpizza​ @roonyxx​ @roxytheimmortal​ @starryeyeseunbyul​ @rintheemolion​ @abeautifuldiaster124​ @lovely-lynns-likes​ @ladyofmaidensandwine​ @starchildwild​ @peachyafshawn​ @idksupernatural​ @mimzy1994​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @superfanficnatural​ @waywardbeanie​ @janicho88​ @malfoysqueen14​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @emoryhemsworth​ @jensengirl83​ @atc74​ @deanwanddamons​ @crashdevlin​ @hobby27​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @babykalika2001 @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @sandlee44​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @desertmoths​ @cookiechipdough​ @akshi8278​ @theflamecrystal​ @tessellaneous @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @afangirlsbubble​ @invisiblexnobodyximportant​ @supernatural-love14​

Supernatural tag list:

@bi-danvers0​

[taizi]

to be loved (and to be in love)

the moomins pairing: moomin/snufkin word count: 3358 read on ao3

x

It happens at one of Papa’s parties.

Snufkin is playing with the ramshackle band, leading their flutes and violins with his harmonica. His face is flushed, hair in disarray, and Moomin has caught himself staring more than once.

It’s just that it’s very easy to get lost in looking at him! Moomin will notice his freckles or a leaf in his fur and then goes on noticing things about him worth attention, until quite suddenly whole minutes have passed and Snufkin is giving him a funny look back and asking if there’s a hole in his smock.

There is, there always is, but Moomin wouldn’t be so fascinated by a hole in his smock.

“I’m in a puzzle,” he admits to Sniff, catching his little brother in the act of stealing sweets off My’s plate. “I want to go on listening to him play, at the same time I’d really like a dance with him. What to do!”

Sniff looks as though he’d rather talk about anything else, but gamely replies, “He’ll hop down soon enough for a drink. Just catch him before he crawls up a tree and ignores us for the rest of the night.”

Little My notices the theft of her sweets at that point and shrieks a war cry. Moomin removes himself from the scene swiftly and deftly. Mama can sense trouble like a bird can sense rain and he doesn’t want to be scolded along with his adopted siblings.

He finds Snorkmaiden taking a break and joins her. She beams at him as he sits in the grass beside her log and says, “I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you all night! Where have you been lurking?”

“By the band,” he admits. “I must tell you about my puzzle.”

She looks commiserating when he’s finished, giving a little nod. Moomin can always count on her to understand him.

“Oh! Here he comes now,” Snorkmaiden says, glancing over Moomin’s head. “It’s your chance.”

He turns, and sure enough, Snufkin is hopping down from his perch, harmonica stuffed into a pocket. He weaves unerringly through the crowd toward them, and Moomin is filled with a strange sense of pride that he passes so many other people without pause to greet the two of them with a smile.

Snorkmaiden pats the spot beside her on the mossy log, and Snufkin takes it without fuss. Moomin scoots across the grass once Snufkin is settled and leans back against his legs.

At once, he feels Snufkin tug gently on his left ear, and it’s as good as any warm greeting.

Papa’s parties are always a grand thing, attracting guests for miles, and sometimes one or two new faces will show up alongside friends and neighbors. Between the bonfire, and the carrying scent of food, and the handful of musicians in steady swing, it’s a simple matter for any stranger to make their way through the valley and join the merry-making.  

Snufkin has barely been sitting down for five minutes when one such stranger approaches. They’re a tall creature, with narrow eyes and feathered ears and a long, handsome face.

“You play wonderfully,” the stranger says, looking enraptured. “I’ve never heard that song before.”

“It was one of mine, from a few years ago,” Snufkin replies easily. He’s in an agreeable mood tonight. “I never did name it.”

Moomin isn’t quite rude enough to interrupt, even though there’s about a dozen things he’s come up with to talk to Snufkin about in the half hour since they last spoke. And he still has to ask for a dance before Snufkin changes his mind about being at the party, the way he tends to when such things drag on. Moomin tries not to fidget while the stranger praises Snufkin’s talent with composition, going on at length about the catchy melody and how his eyes shone in the dark and what a striking figure he made, perched at the top of his weathered stump, head and shoulders above the bigger and taller musicians.

Snufkin is talented, and he is striking— all of that is common sense. But a visitor couldn’t be expected to know that right away. So Moomin attempts patience, tilting his head so that his chin is propped on one of Snufkin’s knees.

From there Moomin has a clear view of Snorkmaiden, and he blinks in surprise. His pleasant friend is wearing a distinctly unpleasant look on her face. She almost seems offended, and Moomin is about to ask what’s wrong when the stranger says, “Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you care to dance?”

They hold out a hand to Snufkin, the way Papa will sometimes hold out a hand to Mama before he leads her in a dance, and Moomin thinks, Oh.

Oh.

And his insides turn to ice.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice cries out Unfair! He was going to ask for a dance, he’d been thinking about it all night long!

“I’m afraid I’m spoken for,” Snufkin replies without missing a beat. “But you might find someone else here who’d be happy to dance with you. Why don’t you stay awhile?”

The stranger is plainly disappointed, but they take it in stride. After a round of good-natured farewells, they amble off to another corner of the party, and Moomin has never been more relieved to see the back of someone in his life.

Snorkmaiden huffs, “What nerve! And to ask you right in front of—“

“Well, they could hardly know better,” Snufkin says quickly, rummaging his harmonica out of his pocket. He taps it twice on the palm of his hand, nervously. “I feel like playing again, Moomintroll. Let me up?”

“Oh— yes, of course,” Moomin says, scrambling out of the way. “What song will you play?”

“One you know,” comes the teasing reply, and then Snufkin is climbing back up the dead tree that serves as his stage for the evening, his fellow musicians clamoring when they realize he’s returned.

He sets the note, and begins to play, and Moomin recognizes All Small Beasts Should Have Bows In Their Tails within the first few chords. It fills him with something impossibly warm, something that pushes aside that unhappy surprise from moments ago with firm hands.

Sometimes, one has to just— sit quietly. And marvel at how much one loves their best friend.

Snorkmaiden sinks from the log to the grass beside Moomin. She takes one of his hands.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

Moomin doesn’t tear his eyes away from the band for a moment and answers her honestly. She laughs brightly, unsurprised. The question was probably just a joke to begin with.

The answer is usually Snufkin.

“What do you think he meant, Snorkmaiden? About being spoken for?”

“Oh, dear, don’t ask me.” She gives his hand a pat. “That Snufkin will tell you himself, he tells you everything else. He’ll get bothered by all this attention soon enough and slink off to some secret place to be alone, so you can ask him then.”

Moomin has to smile at both Sniff and Snorkmaiden knowing Snufkin so well. They’re right, too, because not even twenty minutes later the mumrik has made his clever escape, and Moomin leaves the swell of light and music and merry-making to follow him into the nearby grove of trees.

It’s an easy matter for Moomin to find him where he’s sitting by the peaceful brook. He makes a pretty picture there, autumn-colored creature that he is.

“I don’t know that I’m cut out for parties,” Snufkin says when he sees Moomin coming. The look on his face is just shy of apologetic, because this is simply how he is and they both know it’s nothing to apologize for.

“You lasted nearly half the evening! I think the trick is to stick you in the band so you forget the crowd.”

Snufkin laughs and it’s very much a gilded accomplishment as far as Moomin is concerned. They sit together comfortably, the space between them a familiar shape after all these years.

“Something on your mind?” Snufkin asks, always guessing these things rightly.

“I’m a little cross with that stranger,” Moomin admits. “I was preoccupied all night with how I might convince you to dance and they stole the question from me just like that, as easy as anything!”

“Oh, Moomintroll, you only had to ask. I’d hardly want to dance with someone I don’t know, but I know you better than anyone.”

Simultaneously pleased by the sentiment, and disappointed he wasted time dithering for no reason, Moomin asks, “So it wasn’t true then? What you said before?”

Snufkin blinks slowly at him. Moomin clarifies, “You told them you were spoken for.”

“Oh, yes. That’s true.”

Heartbreak is a physical thing, as it turns out. Moomin didn’t know that until now, looking at his best friend and great love and feeling like his whole chest is going to come apart.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m happy for you, Snufkin.”

“Don’t be too happy for me. It’s terribly one-sided.”

He might as well have tipped the world upside down, as calmly as you please, and Moomin has to really think for a moment to make sure he heard right.

Then he blurts, “You can’t be serious, Snuf, how could it ever be?”

Snufkin laughs again, richly amused, and tells him, “Moomin, I’ve very few redeeming qualities. I’m a tramp who refuses to be tied down to one person or place, who can’t abide crowds or too much noise or sleeping indoors for more than a night or two at a time. I can play a pretty tune, but only barely hold a conversation with anyone that isn’t you or your family.”

It isn’t said with bitterness. He’s still smiling as he gazes out over the dark water, eyes gleaming under the waning moon. He looks perfectly at peace with the idea that he will never be loved back, and that heartbreak from a moment ago has nothing on what Moomin is feeling now.

It must show on his face, because Snufkin says, “Don’t trouble yourself over it, my dear. I’m a difficult creature to love, that’s all.”

Moomin reels back from him.

“How could you ever say such a thing?” Moomin demands, feeling stung. “How could you believe it?”

Snufkin stares up at Moomin as though he’s never seen him before, and their difference in size is somehow more apparent than it’s ever been.

But Moomin’s mouth runs off without him, eyes hot and heart racing.

“Every spring when you come back I think I’ve never been so happy before in my life, and every autumn when you leave again you take my heart with you, so don’t you dare think that you’re not wonderful just because one person in the whole world is foolish enough not to see it! You’re not difficult! Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done!”

The empty woods seem to ring after his outburst, the heavy silence laying over them like a thick bed of packing snow.

Snufkin doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t go away either, which means he’s going to say something when he figures it out. Words like to escape him sometimes, those pesky things, and Moomin has learned to be patient while Snufkin catches the right ones.

But right now Moomin is so— angry! Or hurt, or— something else that makes breathing painful, like his lungs are full of sharp edges. And he thinks if he stays here for another second he’ll start yelling again, and Snufkin looks so small and startled that yelling at him any more is the last thing Moomin wants to do.

So he says, “I’m going back,” and starts off at a stomp. About halfway back to the party his anger deserts him, and by the time he finds Snorkmaiden he’s very near tears.

“Oh, no,” his friend says right away. Her face is full of sympathy. “I take it you didn’t get your dance.”

”I did something so stupid,” Moomin blurts. It’s almost a sob. Snorkmaiden’s hands come out as if to catch him. “Snufkin probably thinks I’m such a fool. He said something mistaken and I shouted at him and— “

God, the things he said! Moomin is still angry and hurt, but he’s ashamed and embarrassed, too. It’s not truly Snufkin that he was upset with, just the very wrong ideas that Snufkin had, and he handled it so poorly.

There are probably much better ways of convincing someone they’re loved than by yelling at them and carrying on.

“Remember all those afternoons we spent planning my grand confession?” he asks of her glumly. “I didn’t do any of those plans justice tonight.”

“Poor Moomintroll,” Snorkmaiden sighs. “I promise you it’s not as bad as you think.”

Moomin wants to say of course it is! and I ruined everything! and Snufkin is probably going to leave months early now because of me! but that last thought is such a miserable one that Moomin can’t bring himself to say anything else at all.

Snorkmaiden spends the rest of the evening with him, even though there’s plenty of games and dancing she could be joining in on. As the party winds down, Sniff and Little My and Snork make their way over as well.

The last of the guests are leaving, and Papa rounds the kids together for help tidying the yard. Mama is stacking empty plates and bottles and Moomin is carrying a bag around for garbage when Sniff says, “Hey, look who’s come back! Just in time to help clean up.”

My says, “Good, now we don’t have to hunt him down later.”

Disbelieving, Moomin turns with hope and uncertainty thick in his throat. And yes, Snufkin is there, picking his way through the yard, face half-hidden in his hat and his scarf, looking two seconds from turning to bolt.

When he catches Moomin’s eye, he squares his shoulders. The last few steps between them seem very daring, and he sticks out a paw the second he’s close enough.

Moomin is a very confused mix of happy to see him and sad all at once, but it’s impossible not to take Snufkin’s hand when it’s offered. So he does, their fingers interlocking. The rest of their family feels far away.

“I’ve been awful,” Moomin tells him, ears laying flat.

“Of course you haven’t been,” Snufkin mumbles. “You’re a sweetheart.”

The two of them don’t really have to say “I’m sorry” and “I forgive you” so plainly anymore. Part of knowing someone so well is knowing what they mean to say no matter how they come out and say it.

Moomin’s heart begins to settle, Snufkin’s warm paw in his as good as any poultice.

“I don’t feel like one,” Moomin tells him, aching from someplace deeper than his bones. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you. If you didn’t know I loved you before, it was a sorry way to find out.”

Tail lashing, Snufkin stands there for what feels like a long time without speaking.

Snufkin rarely says very much all at once. When he was a child, he could talk for hours about his favorite things, but as the years came on, that happened less and less. By now it‘s a rarity to hear that stream of consciousness babble out of him like a brook.  

Sometimes when it’s just the two of them, laying in the field under a glorious patchwork of stars, Snufkin will slip back into that very young mumrik Moomin first met.

Or still sometimes, when it’s very important, he can muster up enough words to make himself understood.

“Of course I knew,” he says, careful and particular with every syllable. “You love everyone. I just didn’t know if yours matched mine. I didn’t know if I wanted it to or not.”

Moomin stopped breathing somewhere around “yours” and “mine,” electric with hope. He doesn’t dare interrupt, not even to tell his nosy siblings off for eavesdropping from the other side of the table they’re supposed to be cleaning.

“A commitment like that must cost something, I thought,” Snufkin tries to explain, brow furrowed. “But how long have I loved you, without it costing me anything at all?”

Oh!

Moomin’s face breaks in a wide smile, and he seizes Snufkin’s other hand, too.

He’s known Snufkin’s love for him and his other friends in the valley since they were very small, since the years when they still hibernated together, but it’s nice to hear it said out loud.

“See there? You’re so easy to love, Snuf. We all love you, and I’m sure your secret swain does, too. Or if he doesn’t, then he will! And I’ll be happy for you, I swear it!”

Snufkin blinks at him. Somewhere behind them, someone mutters Moomin’s name like it’s a swear word. The noise of clean-up has stopped completely.

Moomin digests the full and heavy silence for a moment and then gasps so suddenly that Snufkin jumps.

“You don’t mean— it’s me?”

Snufkin looks as though he never wants to speak again, only existing in this space anymore because of Moomin’s tight grip on his paws that makes it impossible for him to run away. He’s hiding behind the brim of his hat, but Moomin can see how red his face is. Probably everyone in the yard can.

“Who else could it be, Moomintroll? The only place I come back to is here. Who else could I have fallen for without you knowing right away?”

“But me?” Moomin is laughing now, and crying, and deliriously relieved. “And you called it one-sided? How could you!”

Snufkin finally jerks into motion when Moomin’s tears start rolling, wiping them away with the end of his scarf and saying, “How was I to know it was the sweetheart sort of love you felt and not the sibling sort? One can’t just assume these things.”

Moomin spins him in a giddy circle. “Oh, but this is wonderful, isn’t it? Thank goodness we had that argument.”

“Never let it be said we do things the easy way,” Snufkin admits, strung along by him enough to smile. “I would have rather had that dance.”

A sudden noisy crackle has them both looking over, and Mama smiles tenderly at them from the table. She’s brought out the gramophone from the drawing room. A record is already spinning beneath the needle, and music begins to pour out over the yard.

“There’s always time for another dance,” she says wisely, reaching for Papa’s hand.

It’s the middle of the night and they only have the porch lights and a few lanterns and the stars to see by, and there’s still plenty to do before bed. But Snorkmaiden and her brother are laughing as they attempt to copy Mama and Papa’s waltz, and Sniff and Little My are twirling each other around energetically and bumping into chairs, and although it’s ridiculous, there’s absolutely no reason for Snufkin and Moomin not to join in. And that’s probably the point.

“We haven’t danced in ages,” Moomin says eagerly. “Since the last party, you remember?”

“A month ago,” Snufkin supplies, eyes catching the low light. He’s very warm, and solid in Moomin’s hands, and perhaps the most familiar thing to him in the whole world.

“Ages,” Moomin insists.

Snufkin finally gives in with a laugh. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”

So they dance until the stars wink out and pale dawn touches the farthest corner of the sky. Then they part in the early morning with a shy kiss, Snufkin fleeing to his tent and Moomin to his bedroom, and greet each other the same way when everyone drags themselves groggily to the lunch table.

And when late autumn comes around, Snufkin will linger a day or two longer than usual, but he’ll leave for his travels with a light step and a song in his heart. And Moomin will smile to see him go, knowing how sweet the spring will be.

And nothing changes that shouldn’t change. And everything changes that should.

[roonil-wazlib-at-221b]

Protection: Part 3

Tom is insanely grateful Harrison waits until they’re both in his office to start teasing Tom.

“‘I haven’t stolen anything’,” the blond snorts. “Do you know how hard it was not to tell her about the heart she stole years ago?”

“I hope not very,” Tom says grumpily, unimpressed with his friend’s dramatics. He pours himself a drink, trying to take his mind off the fact that you’d passed out from blood loss. You’re fine, obviously; you’ve been through much worse and he should know, he’s seen videos of said things, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’d passed out from blood loss. “Because if you do, I’ll kill you.”

“Speaking of killing, what’s Charlie gonna say about his sister?” Harrison snatches the glass out of his friend’s hand and gulps down the rest, settling onto the chair and kicking his feet onto Tom’s desk.

“Charlie will be damn glad she’s gone,” Tom grumbles, rolling his eyes at his friend and getting another glass. “Nobody fucking liked her, and I only kept her around because—”

“Good on missions and good in bed?” Harrison supplies.

Tom rolls his eyes at his friend. “She really wasn’t all that good on missions, but just this one and her fingers decide to be trigger-happy. And you should know more about that than me.”

“Don’t try to act all innocent,” Harrison scoffs. “I know you tapped that more than once. Before you fell in looooove!”

Tom nearly chucks his glass at the blond. “You really need to shut the fuck up, you know that?” he hisses, turning red with anger as Haz only laughs. He may be Harrison’s boss, but he’s more Haz’s friend, and they both know that.

“Come on, we both know you only killed her because she shot Y/N,” Harrison protests, laughing. You’re definitely the match for his friend, and just watching Tom fumble in front of you was hilarious. “And the party is in three weeks, Saturday night, right? I’m about to send out the invitations.”

Tom grumbles, “If it wasn’t before, it is now.” The thought of the party makes his stomach twist. He’s going to be killing O’Brien, but that’s not what he’s worried about—he can just pay off the people that make a fuss. No, he’ll be settling a much bigger deal that day as well, and if something goes wrong…

Tom isn’t used to feeling nervous. He doesn’t like it.

“Okay, grumpy,” Harrison mutters out the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you want to go make sure Y/N’s okay? You might as well start getting to know her; she’s gonna be here three more weeks.”

Tom waves his hand airily, saying, “That’s three more weeks to do that.” He doesn’t tell his friend the truth; that he’s going to try to avoid you as much as possible. “She’s much too good at this; her father taught her well. And stubborn. I don’t have time for stubbornness.”

Harrison shoots him an I-don’t-believe-that look before holding out his glass for a refill. Tom does so grudgingly. “Do I have anything else to do today?”

“Go check on Y/N yourself,” Tom orders. “One word about the whole”—he waves his hand in a circle, not wanting to say the whole ‘L’ word—“thing, and I will shoot you.”

“Do you think so low of me as to assume I’d shove that on the poor girl just minutes after the wakes up from a surgery after being kidnapped?” Harrison snorts and sets his feet on the ground. “That’s a you move.”

“I have an interrogation to complete,” Tom says, ignoring that last comment, and checks to make sure that his gun is loaded. He pats his breast pocket, too, to make sure the brass knuckles are in that too. Swallowing the last of his drink and slamming the glass on the table, Tom leads the way out of his office, shaking his head to clear it. He really needed that drink.

You’re surprised when you don’t wake up to pain; instead, you wake up slowly, feeling like you’re floating, unmistakably the result of drugs, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care. It’s the sort of hazy in-between when you’re not quite sleeping and not quite awake, and you don’t want to be awake.

Then you remember why you feel drugged and you shoot up in the bed, not bothering to take in your surroundings before you tear the IV out of your arm and fling the covers off your legs, pulling up the hospital gown just enough to see your thigh. The bullet wound is covered by a bandage, and you peel that off just enough to see underneath. The wound is stitched up and shiny, held together with stitches. You feel a bit proud when you see it, though you’re always proud whenever you get scars from missions or scrapes with important people.

“Hey!” someone yelps, yanking your hands away from your thigh. Your head snaps up to see the blond boy that had been in the car… Tom had called him Harry? Harold? Something like that. No, Haz. “Don’t do that,” the boy says, looking at you like you’re crazy.

You twist your wrists out of his (surprisingly strong) grip and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, taking a second to regain your balance before standing up. Haz makes a little surprised sound like a choke, but you glare at him and hold a hand out in the universal ‘Stop’ gesture. When you try to speak, your voice is rough and throat clogged. It just sounds like a cat vomiting, and it takes multiple times of clearing your throat to be able to speak, albeit with a scratchy voice. “Thanks for the patch-up and the warning. I’ll be going now.”

The boy steps in front of the door, shaking his head at you. “Are you really so dumb as to refuse protection from Tom Holland?”

“Protection from what?” you sneer. “I think the biggest danger waiting  for me is him.”

He smirks at that, and rolls his eyes a bit before saying with a superior tone, “That may be, but right now a little piece of paper is keeping you safe.”

“From him; not from everyone else that wants to kill me.” You cross your arms. “There’s always people that either infiltrated your ranks from another gang or are getting bribed or threatened to work for them, and they have perfect access to me.” You’ve been one of those people before. “Trust me, I’m not any safer here than I was at my house. I’m going to kill Dylan myself before more people hear about the headhunt.”

“I think everyone’s heard about the price on your head,” the blond says calmly.

“Then everyone will hear about his death in a few days,” you snap before taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5…

Before you get to ten, Haz sighs deeply. “Do a backflip and I’ll let you go.”

Huh? You blink at him, speechless for a moment, before rolling your eyes. Obviously this boy doesn’t know who you are. You can do backflips like you’re a gymnast, which you used to be. You look behind you to make sure you’ve got enough room and perform the feat, crouching and swinging your arms. The landing is a little off as you stagger, the bullet wound shooting bolts of lightning up your leg, but you still do it. After, you cross your arms and smirk at him.

To your confusion, he doesn’t look all that surprised. All he does is step aside, giving you a clear pathway to the door. You look at him suspiciously before striding forward. When you wrench the door open, two guards are standing there with their arms folded, glaring at you. They’re significantly larger and more muscled than you, and you, even with all your skills, probably wouldn’t be able to beat them.

You look back at Haz. “What are they doing?”

“I’ll let you go,” he elaborates, lifting one eyebrow as he examines his nails when he feels your eyes on him. “Tom won’t, and those are his guards, so they won’t either.”

“You can give them new orders,” you hiss, angry at the trick so obvious you should’ve caught it. You’re not at your best right now. “You’re his second-in-command, right?”

At that, he looks up from his nails, scowling as he asks, “How’d you know that?”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” you sass.

“Well, I am,” he grits out, looking at the ceiling as if for patience. “And I can give them orders, but I can’t undermine Tom’s. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He walks out the door and the guards part to let him do so. Your hand twitches, but you would just make a fool of yourself if you tried to slip past him, run into a wall of solid muscle.

“Call Holland and let him know that if he wants something from me, he can come and get it!” you yell at Haz’s retreating back. “But I’m not staying cooped up in this room until he manages to get O’Brien killed—none of his people are half as good as me!”

I liked this chapter a bit more! Tell me what y’all think!

@littlemarvelqueen @musical-whovian

[katgiringiringirin]

I Need U Part 9/?

[cred to gif owner]

Member: Yoongi, but all of Bangtan will appear.

Genre: mostly humor, a hint of angst maybe? 

Words: 2k words

Synopsis: You’re invisible, a nobody, no friends - no nothing. Your mom died while running away from your still abusive and drunk father. You live a life no one wants, but a shared passion for piano seems to perk your interest. Who is Min Yoongi? The answer may have changed your life.

Warnings: Strong language, violence, can be triggering for some and… Just don’t read it if you can’t handle abusiveness and stuff.

A/N: I have a uni/college entrance exam thing on saturday (the day this will be uploaded) and unfortunately I’ve been studying for that instead of writing this so this will only be a short update! Super sorry for that but school does come first! 

Again updates will come every other Saturday! (odd weeks)

>>| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |<<

>>| Masterpost |<<

Previously

“About that…” I pull up the note and start reading it loudly in front of the rest of the boys. 

“Dear Yoongi, Jin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook…”

- Monday - 

Y/N POV 

School’s starting again and life is feeling useless. 

You walked home calmly seeing some of them here and there. Hopefully that would make them move away from the boys’ track and leave them alone. 

The walk home wasn’t that bad. But when you came up to the house... That was something completely different. You facepalmed yourself when you realized everything was locked and that you didn’t have a key nor anywhere to sleep. 

So what do you do when you don’t have a key and desperately need to enter the house? That’s right you break in. So yes, you broke into your own house. That’s not against the law... You hope... heh. 

It wasn’t easy - since you didn’t want anything to break - since that means punishment...

The house still reeked of alcohol - mostly beer. Tears started to form in your eyes again after seeing the belts and whip on the floor, together with the bedsheet with dried bloodstains on it. You touch your ribs and upper left arm.

It’s not like you’re not used to it though. So you take the fabrics and starts washing them, you take out the beer cans and clean up a bit. All the work made you sweat so you took a shower. The exhaustion soon took over and you fell asleep on the couch. 

You’re happy that the boys have a competition today. That means that they won’t be at school and you don’t have to avoid them like they were a pest. The grey hoodie you’re wearing  are covering up everything you need covered up. It also works as a personal shield to hide in for any interested eyes. 

The day goes on as usual and you find yourself in the music room again after school. 

Your hand drags over the piano, enjoying the cooling effect it has. This might be the last time in a while. You can’t come here because the boy’s will expect you to be here. You have to be smart about it and avoid all the places where they’d believe they’d see you. Even if that means having to stay at home more. 

You sit down and play some tunes and soon without really noticing you’ve started to play one of Yoongi’s songs. When you realise what you’re doing you just stop. Your thoughts start to wander off to their competition... You can’t really help but to cheer them on in spirit. 

-Tuesday-

-Yoongi POV- 

“Eyyy, Suga” the boys greets me as I walk towards them. I nod a bit and they turn back to their conversation. 

“...but are you sure it’ll work? She said she didn’t want us to talk to her - or acknowledge her at all” Hobi says probably thinking back to the letter Y/N had left behind.

“Are you talking about Y/N?” I ask. 

“Yeah, we’re trying to come up with a way to talk to her. There’s something fishy about it and we need to find out what” Jungkook answers. Of course it’s weird. I can’t help but think so too. I mean I talked to her just before she left. And it is something fishy about it. But before I know more I don’t really want to tell the rest of the boys what happened that day. For some reason it feels like something is dangerous, and having contacts with the local gangs I for sure know that my gut instinct is usually right. 

“You should just leave it alone. She sounded pretty desperate in the letter so let’s just do as she says” I answer and take a seat on one of the stone stairs. 

“But hyung, I miss her! She was so much fun...” V pouts and looks at me with those damn puppy eyes. I roll my eyes at him.

“Y/N is smart. She probably had a reason for it - so before we know any more, let’s just see what happens” I answer “And also, she didn’t say anything about shadowing her” I smirk a bit and wink at him. 

“It’s true, she never said we couldn’t follow her in the shadows. That way we can carefully see what’s happening and maybe get a clue to what’s going on” Namjoon adds. 

“Let’s do it” Jin says “I’m very concerned about her. Those... scars and things she had. It needs to be taken care of. We need to who’s responsible” he says. We all nod and put our hands together while forming a ring.

“1..2..3...BANGTAN” we all yell and throw our hands up. And right after that the bell rings. 

“Now go to class kids. I have to get back to uni - call if something happens” Jin says and walks towards his car while we scurry on into the school. Without looking too suspicious we try to look for Y/N. But for me, everything seems to remind me of her...

This is going to be interesting. 

-Y/N POV-

You know the boys are back, and you know that they won. As soon as you saw them in the morning you wanted to run into their group and hug them all and congratulating them. But no - you knew better than that. You wouldn’t put those boys in danger. They had a bright future in front of them, you couldn’t ruin that. One life is enough. 

You’re pretty sure you’ve avoided being caught by their radar. Because as far as you know, they haven’t noticed you at all. Not that you were stalking them or anything. 

But that’s when you remember. shit. You have Biology together with Jungkook. You hope with every fiber in your body that he won’t talk to you nor acknowledge you. 

As you make your way into the classroom you take big steps towards the lonely bench in the far back. You pull up your hoodie to cover most of your face and hide behind the books. 

Loud cheers and laughter are audible before a group of boys and girls enter the room. In the absolute middle you can see Jungkook. You thank the “fangirls” for being all up in his face congratulating him and turning his focus away from possibly finding you. 

The good thing about your Bio teacher is that he never calls up anyone. He just starts the class. Those who are not interested can fail - it’s not his problem. As he draws some cells and talks about different functions you can feel somebody’s eyes on you. Being the paranoid person that you are you’re pretty sure it’s Jungkook - but your gut can be wrong. Nonetheless you find your eyes wandering around the classroom trying to find the person staring. 

When your eyes finally find the brown mop of hair belonging to the youngest Bangtan member, you see that he’s concentrating on taking notes. I guess I was wrong then.

It doesn’t take long before you feel the eyes on you again and this time you look up directly - eyes aiming straight for the maknae. But he’s still taking notes, looking as concentrated as ever. I think I might be going crazy. 

Taking the decision that it’s probably just your mind playing tricks on you, you decide to move your focus back to the lecture. What am I even thinking. Of course they wouldn’t look for me. Don’t think you’re special Y/N.  

“Don’t think you’re special Y/N. You’re just going to end up like your mom. You can’t win this. You know it” he laughs a cynical laugh while grabbing you buy the hair “You don’t even know half of what I can do. So watch yourself. Next time you try to fight back - you know what will happen” he whispers in your ear before throwing your head back down on the mattress. Your tears wetting the fabric covering your eyes and whimpers filling the air...

You’re smacked back into reality when you hear everyone shutting their books and start to walk out of the classroom for lunch. You feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek and onto the blank paper. Quickly you take  your sweater paw and dry the rest up while collecting yourself. Get yourself together Y/N.

You gather your books and quickly exit the classroom, following the stream of people to the cafeteria. When you pass your locker you quickly put your books inside and then join the stream of students again. 

With your head down and hood up you’re kind of invisible. Or at least that’s how you feel. 

- Jungkook POV -

[JK]: I’ve found her.

[ChimChim]: What how??

[JK]: Haha you’d think I remember that she’s in my Bio class but it’s not a surprise since she was good at hiding. 

[JK]: + Mr.Jeffreson never calls us up. Probably why ^^ 

[Princess]: Okay who changed my name to Princess again?? 

[Princess]: Also keep on tracking her. But be discrete Kookie.

[JK]: Of course hyung. I’m not stupid.

[JK]: Also - it was Hobi hyung ^^ 

I quickly slide my phone down in the pocket again and keep on trailing Y/N. 

“Jungkook oppa~!” Cindy’s voice calls out. Not her.

“Hi Cindy” I answer giving her a big fake smile before returning to keeping an eye on Y/N. I almost thought I lost her for a second there but then swe the grey hoodie again. As I’m about to walk closer as to not actually lose her, I feel someone grabbing my arm. I look back and see that Cindy has linked her arm together with mine. 

“Come and sit with us at lunch Kookie~” she says in a cute voice. I roll my eyes and pry her arm off. 

“Please Cindy I don’t have time right now -” I start but she cuts me off.

“But you promised that if you won you’d sit with me” she said doing a pout and grabbing my arm again. God she’s irritating. 

“I did?” I ask starting to get stressed. I look over the sea of students for the grey hoodie again and I can see her about to enter the line for food. 

“Yes you did. It feels like you never have time for me anymore oppa~” I cringe at her saying oppa. I hate it. I continue to keep an eye on Y/N while not actually listening to what Cindy is saying. “YA! Oppa, who are you looking at?” she says grabbing my arm and forcing me to look at her. 

“I’m sorry, but like I really have to-” I’m yet again cut off by someone. But at least this time it isn’t Cindy. 

“YA KOOKIE!” an angry voice calls out and half of the students turn their heads towards... Hobi. He runs towards me with big steps while yelling “HOW DARE YOU TELL JIN HYUNG ABOUT MY PRANK!” he runs straight into me, grabbing my arm, dragging me away from Cindy and fake slaps me on the shoulder. I look up at him with big eyes and he just winks back. 

“Wha-w” I stammer a bit confused.

“HAHAHA I’M just playing with you” he goes from yelling to talking normally. He pats me on the back and everyone’s attention go back to whatever they did before.

“You’re welcome - now where’s our little Y/N?” he whispers as we start to walk towards the lunch line. I look around trying to find her again but I can’t see her. 

“I can’t see her now - but she has a grey hoodie” I whisper back to him and we start to take our food. I look up again to locate her but to no avail. 

“Hey is that her?” Hobi asks and nudges me. I look in his direction and I see the same grey hoodie from before - or at least I thought so. But instead of a girl it was Carl. Or as most people call him stinky Carl. 

“Ya, are you blind? It’s Carl!” I say slapping him lightly. 

“Well at least it’s not my fault losing the real target...” Hobi says and I stomp on his foot making him whimper “Ow“. I just glare at him and take my things to go looking for a seat. That’s when I hear a plate dropping to the ground. 

All heads turns towards the sound and there she is. Grey hoodie soaked in milk and a laughing Cindy holding the box in her hand... 

A/N: okay this got really long lol. But like I hope you enjoyed it - even though it was pretty much of a filler! Look forward to the next parts though!