Peachy

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As you may be able to tell, I’m a huge Green Lantern fan, but I write a lot more including DC characters, Supernatural, and any other fandoms I'm in!

My rules are pretty simple, I will reject and requests that I do not want to write and don’t agree with (things like pedo, incest, rape, yeah none of that). That’s about it! The more descriptive your requests the better!

I am still in school so my works will be uploaded on kinda a random schedule, so that means be patient on requests!

All my works done are in my master list that I update at the end of every month, so please navigate there to find your interests!

About Me:

Learn about the pilot of your flight!

My favorite DC characters are Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan, Booster Gold, The Question, Blue Beetle, and Jason Todd

I'm a huge Dean Winchester fan

Fun fact: I’m a firefighter in training!

I live in the US, and I do not support trump, maga, ICE, or any racism/discrimination.

I accept requests! Writing prompts or even just asking questions!

I am still in school while also doing my training, so I will prioritize my education and school work (you'd be surprised by how much free time I actually have)

You and Dean were in the hotel room, Sam long gone in the library doing some research on a church that was the place of your next hunt. Or maybe it was a cemetery. You can really remember anything other than the fact that you had been pent up ever since you saw Dean in his t-shirt fixing up the baby before you guys left for the hunt.

The entire time you were eye fucking him, and Dean noticed. Oh, did he notice because he teased you right back, leaving little touches on your ass whenever Sam didn’t notice, or purposely licking his lips when “concentrating”. By the time Sam had gone full research mode, Dean had driven you both back to the room.

And now you were here, fogged up windows, squeaking by frame, and the orange light from the motel shining through the window fog that was acting as the only source of light through the night sky. 

“Oh, Dean! Yes! Oh yeah!” You moaned, bouncing up and down on his dick, holding on to the bed frame as you moved your hips.

“Just like that, god, you sound like a fucking pornstar sweetheart… oh fuck.” He panted, guiding your hips up and down as he closed his eyes.

One of his hands started to wander up to your boob, palming it as he began to move his own hips up and down.

This prompted you to lean down, your hands on either side of his head as the slapping sounds got faster and louder.

Your moans and whines increased, and his bagan fucking you so fast you couldn’t keep your stability, your hand slipping under the pillow to try and have a flat surface to keep your hand at.

Your eyes widen when you feel a prick on your finger, pulling the culprit from under the pillow.

“Sweetheart, why’d we stop?” He asked confused, still panting yet not moving incase it was an emergency.

“De, why the fuck do you have a knife under your pillow!?”

Dean propped himself up, his abs curving to look at the knife, then back at you. He just grabbed it, tossing it away. 

“What else could I keep under there, a bat?” 

“I could’ve hurt myself, thats so not fucking safe!” 

He just huffed, his hands guiding you back down.

“Stop worrying, angel…” he thrust up, making you moan out loud and drop the subject.

“Dean!” You moan/scream both out of pleasure and frustration. You swear this man will kill you one day.

“Like I'm about to be cockblocked by a knife.”

Dean Winchester was someone who could never sleep, whether it would be from the terrors of the nights he goes through, or staying up with the thoughts of his father still in his head. Either never sleeping, or sleeping too much, his bones dissolved into whatever cushiony surface he was lying on, sometimes sleeping through the loudest of thoughts and noises. It was never in between, and it was an up-and-down cycle of sleep or no sleep.

Tonight was a night of no sleep. Same as yesterday, and same as before. You were used to it; his insomnia made it so while you were cuddled to his side, his eyes were glued to the yellowish ceiling of the crappy motel room that you two ended up in. The stale smell was overpowered by the scent of your shampoo, tickling his nostrils at every breath he took. You could tell he was awake from the fact that his breaths were short. When he was deep in sleep, his chest would deeply rise and fall, a silent lullaby that lured you to close your eyes and rest. Sometimes he’d use that to his advantage when you were being stubborn.

He’d show up behind you while you were researching, making sure to press his chest to your back, purposely breathing deep so he could see your eyelids fall and give in.

“Dean, what's wrong? You haven’t slept in days,” You murmur, half awake as his attention never leaves the spot on the ceiling.

“Just.. thinking,” was all he replied with.

“You’re thinking too much if it's clouding your sleep for 78 hours.” You reply, starting to rise, but the bicep around your back flexes and pushes you back down to his shoulder.

You just huff, feeling the scratchy and cheap motel bed sheets fall to your waist as you begin to climb on top of Dean. 

“Im serious, De. You need to rest. What can I do to make you get some sleep?” You keep your voice low, on the verge of begging.

Dean's eyes trail up and down your body, his hand going down your bare back as he notices you weren’t wearing a top. His eyes were slightly watery, gleaming as he had previously been begging for something. Maybe he was, and you just didn’t know.

You look down at his freckle, trailing over how they give him such a boyish look, like you were seeing Dean before he ever had to hunt. 

“Well, Sammy’s in the other room…” He said, the plain placement of his lips curving up to a smirk, but his gleaming eyes kept the same expression.

How could you say no to a face like that?

He captured your lips, and you moved to straddle him for better stability. 

You could feel his warmth radiating from him, keeping you in a sleepy, slightly lucid state. He just guided you, moving his hands to where he wanted them, letting you just focus on kissing his lips. They were so plump for a man's mouth, and you could feel the slight chapped and scarred area form where he would bite to hold his tongue. He did it today to stop himself from calling someone he needed information from stupid. 

You could see that kissing him forced him to close his eyes, and you hoped it might lure him to sleep, tiring himself out and making him get some rest. 

He moved his hands to slip down your underwear, his own boxers already half off. He used one hand and hoisted your sleepy body up, sliding you on top of him. Both of you let out lazy whines, and he began moving in and out of you, causing your already tired legs to feel like jelly.

But before he could even finish after the laziest sex you’ve ever had, you felt him stop moving, hearing his breath be steadier than normal for what you two were doing. You opened your hazy eyes, seeing his chest have a seedy rise and fall, his beautiful eyes hidden by his eyelids. His lips were slightly parted, letting out small breaths that were similar to puppies' snores.

He looked so peaceful, and was finally resting that you couldn’t care less about him not finishing. You just lifted your hips, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean both you and him up a bit before climbing back into bed next to him.

You slept about an hour later, when the sun was barely peaking out, because you were so distracted by him. You counted his freckles, about 30, but you were so tired, who knows how accurate that was. You took note of his long lashes and how they kissed his cheek. Before you slipped out of consciousness with him, you kissed his cheek out of jealousy of those lashes.

He was so pretty when peaceful; sometimes you wished both of you were in the position to be that way all the time. But for now, you’ll settle for these little moments where you can finally see him at rest, without a care for the next hunt or the next big thing in the world.

You’ve ruined books for yourself.

Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but how else could you describe the feeling of being in your literature class, talking about the misogynistic themes in The Handmaid's Tale, with the only smart guy talking in the room being the one you slept with at a frat party two days ago? Now, every time any book-related thing is mentioned, you can only think of the book nerd who gave you the best night of your life.

Stupid Jason Todd.

Normally, you’d just wallow in shame after a one-night stand and then the next day have the guy not talk to you and have the relationship fizzle out. But this time you didn’t really want it to fizzle out. You wanted to get to know Jason more as a person, not just your classmate that you slept with.

The only problem is, it seems like this guy is really awkward and shy when he isn’t drunk or high at a party. So you can’t really just go up and talk to him without you both feeling super awkward. Luckily, and also sadly, there was someone who could help.

…

“Please, Grayson!” You pleaded, on your knees in front of his business class, begging for his help.

“How am I supposed to help?! You’re the one who slept with him, figure it out yourself!” Dick said with a smile, obviously enjoying your begging.

“You’re his brother. I just need your help to have a good excuse to talk to him.” You got up from the ground, wiping your knees.

“Alright, well, I'm hosting another party-”

“No. I am not going to another Frat party ever again.” You quickly shut down.

One party experience at a fraternity was enough for you; you’d do anything else to avoid that route.

“Let me finish. Jason’s skipping out on this one, maybe you could, yknow, sneak up to his room once the party starts and see if he needs company.” Dick suggested, smirking at the way your eyes light up.

“Yes! Thank you, Dick!” You excelled with excitement, earning a couple of glances from the people around as you call Richard “dick”.

—

By the time the party came, you had almost zero interaction with Jason. But the eye tag was killing you throughout the week.

It was like he was teasing you with no words, making you just want to melt in his hazel eyes, causing you to just stare at his face all of class.

When you arrived at the frat house, you were met with flashbacks from that night. Each hole and the wall were still there, the smell was the same, and the same Smirnoff smell filled the kitchen.

You were able to sneak in, grab a cup of whatever alcohol combination there was, and head upstairs. The only problem? You can’t remember which room is Jason's. You know Dicks because of the number of times you’ve stayed in there as your roommate brought a guy over to your dorm. You know, Tim's is the third one due to the sign that said: “Do not Disturb,” with him and Bernard right outside of it. If you were right, Jason's was the second one down the hall.

You stood outside of it, hesitating. Do you knock? Do you just barge in? What do you say? Do you just go up and kiss him-?

Before you could decide, you realized the door shifted to a muscular and shirtless body as you were too deep into your head. You look up, seeing those familiar eyes stare at you?

“Do you need something?” He asked, his lips not smiling, but his eyes were, giving away his nonchalant act.

“Yeah.. mind if I hide in here with you?” You asked, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the party downstairs, but quiet enough to be something heard just between you two.

“Go ahead.. Dick already gave me a warning of your presence.” 

You just slide past him, cruising dick in the process, and hear the door shut behind you.

“So… watchya doing in here?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the bed as he climbs onto it to his side.

His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, the curves of his abs so defined you could ghostly feel them under your palm just by looking at them. He had big biceps, ones that bring you back to the feeling of them wrapped around you, holding you gently in your sleep and tightly as he pushed into you.

“Just reading Frankenstein.” He responded, holding up the novel.

You boldly come up next to him, the alcohol in your system making you a bit more reckless. He just lowered the book for you to see, slightly smiling as you try to read the inside like you actually care.

“It's about a scientist, Frankenstein, and the monster he created to.. Kinda proves he could battle the thought of death by using dead human parts.”

He began to explain, his voice low and soothing in your ear, sultry and quiet. It caused you to curl closer to him, your eyes glued to the page but focused on his voice as he explained.

“The monster was left abandoned by him, causing it to kill his family members out of.. Well, I guess spite about being abandoned and sadness for just… being forgotten.” 

“Do you agree with the monster for doing that?” You asked, your eyes twinkling with drunk happiness as you feel his bicep wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I think it’s fair. Frankenstein abandoned him; he should have some revenge. The monster didn’t ask to be created just to be left forgotten.” He responded, his voice barely a whisper between you two as the party gets louder downstairs.

He was so close now, close enough that you decided to just kiss him. It wasn’t as rushed and scary as the first kiss; he immediately melted into it. His lips were soft, just like his demeanor. You felt him put down his book, lifting you on top of him as he continued to kiss you.

You could taste the smallest amount of vodka on his lips, probably way less strong than the taste on yours. He moved his hand to lift your shirt, his hand sliding under your bra to palm your breast. You just squeeled, the coldness causing your nipple to harden, causing him to chuckle.

He separated his lips, his hand resting on your boob as he looked at you with the biggest puppy eyes.

“How come you haven’t talked to me at all this week?” He asked, moving his other hand to remove your pants while you were caught off guard by his question.

“I just- I mean- I didn’t think you wanted to talk, and there was never a good time, and I felt too scared to scared to-” You stumbled over your words, causing him to interrupt.

“Excuses, Excuses.” 

You were about to further defend yourself before he planted his lips on yours, lifting your hips. You didn’t even realize he was able to get you undressed, and you felt his cock slide into your pussy with such ease. He was so gentle and quick with it.

You felt honored in a way. He said he wouldn’t actually have sex with you until he felt worthy enough to give it to you. Looks like he knew he was better than the rest.

Your hips started to subconsiucly rock on his cock, causing him to moan into your mouth. You tried your hardest to be on top, moving up and down at an even pace. But Jason couldn’t take it, and he gently lifted your hips so he could go faster, making it more pleasurable for you both.

The sounds of the party were long gone from your hot breaths in each other's ears. You whimpered and moaned all night long until both of you finished, causing your hazy mind to almost explode with dopamine.

When you slid off of him, he quickly moved to clean you up and get you some water so you wouldn’t wake up hungover. You just settled on his side, his voice the same low and soothing tone as it was before.

“You know were getting to a point where I might have to ask what we are,” he semi-joked.

“I don't know… I just like kissing you… and getting to know you.” You sleepily responded, already half asleep on his bed.

He just smiled, kissing your forehead as he finished reading his book, reading quietly to you.

It is true, you liked getting to know Jason. All of his quirks and interests. It made you happy. Maybe that meant you liked him more than you thought.