#jerkchester

[shemacabre]

ཐི﹙ 𔘓 ﹚ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃 › dean, @jerkchester. ⊹ 𓉸 . . . ⁎ colliding with a wall, then each other's lips.

it's all fumbling feet over a dusty floor, a lack of grace she would typically be ashamed of... if her back hadn't hit the nearest wall with enough force to rattle plaster. a gasp. breathy. hardly audible but still, inhaled from what little space there was between them. AND FEAR NOT, SHE FELT IT ALL. that tendril-like tingle slithering up each disc of her vertebra from both pain and adrenaline —— but she'll hardly feel the former when his larger frame swallows her whole... she would have shivered if he weren't so warm; delicate hands grasping for the front of his shirt like an anchor. ( twisting around the material, ) to wrinkle. to pull him impossibly closer. she shouldn't have stayed long enough to notice that look in his eyes. to feel the way the air between them always seemed to go taut and hum. and yet...

HE TASTES LIKE SOMETHING DOOMED. like smoke and grave dirt and a hint of whiskey —— but she drinks it, because it tastes good. and the kiss could hardly be described as kind; it's desperate, messy, full of teeth. more violent impact than any sort of connection at first... her body acted in tandem. the curve of her back arching off the wall just enough to press her chest, her hips, flush against him like she wanted to fuse their bodies together. ( a leg hitches up his side instead, ) hips swaying just so once contact was made. NOT ROCKING — NOT QUITE, ANYWAY. they were simply considering it.

❛❛ you're trying to eat me— ❜❜ it's quietly accused once she finally pulls back, but she didn't dare go far. lips were still ghosting against his and allowing him to swallow the jesting chide.

[chyremn]

never getting over the fact that lo @storytcllr / @jerkchester was in stockholm for like a month at the same time as me and we had no idea

[johnscn]

do you remember when i said that as long as i am with you, nothing bad would ever happen to you? i'm sorry. / @jerkchester

             you  don't  remember  that .  memory  is  not  infallible ,  and  you  stopped  making  an  effort  to  remember  promises  people  can't  keep  long  before  you  ran  from  st  agnes .  if  he  really  had  said  that  ...  you  don't  think  he  honestly  believed  it  either .  meaningless  words  that  were  so  easy  to  throw  around  /  people  who  didn't  know  better  would  lap  them  up .  they  were  HELPFUL  as  a  hunter .  if  you  could  lie  to  yourself  and  sound  like  you  believed  it  then  the  people  you  were  trying  to  save  would  too .  all  the  way  to  the  grave .

             easy  words  to  say  but  almost  impossible  to  keep .

             the  space  is  TIGHT ,  barely  any  room  to  move .  the  two  of  you  squeezed  in ,  chest  to  chest ,  it  hadn't  seemed  so  small  when  picking  a  place  to  HIDE .  the  hunt  had  gone  so  wrong .  you  can  hear  every  breath  he  takes ,  feel  the  way  his  chest  rises ,  hear  his  heart  beat .  a  steady  rhythm  despite  the  danger  outside .  it  was  one  of  the  things  you  liked  best  about  him  ;  for  all  he  liked  to  play ,  when  it  came  to  a  hunt  he  got  serious .  mostly .  type  of  hunter  who  wouldn't  run  out  on  you  scared .

             " i  get  the  feeling  that  bad  things  tend  to  happen  to  everyone  you're  with ,  dean . "  pressed  this  close ,  a  whisper  sounds  LOUD .  no  need  to  wonder  if  he  can  hear  you  clearly  or  not .  meet  his  gaze  and  don't  look  away .  " don't  be  sorry .  the  bad  things  follow  me  too .  we  were  both  kind  of  doomed  sticking  together . "

[johnscn]

we're violating a cardinal rule of humanity. / @jerkchester

             don't  look .  not  at  him .  not  at  anything  but  your  own  hands .  you  see  blood  and  they  don't  shake .  you  always  see  the  blood  even  when  it  isn't  there .  guilt  playing  tricks  on  your  mind  or  some  other  psychology  bullshit .  you  thought  that  if  you  took  control  of  the  fight  then  it  might  GO  AWAY .  it  hadn't .  maybe  it  never  would .  but  if  you're  taking  action  then  you're  too  busy  to  notice  and  that  is  the  best  things  will  get .

             " that's  a  big  word  for  you ,  winchester .  i  thought  your  vocabulary  stopped  at  CARNAL . "   it  doesn't  come  out  as  nasty  as  you  wanted .  lacks  venom .  you  want  to  piss  him  off ,  make  him  leave  and  take  his  complaints  with  him .  to  do  that  you're  gonna  have  to  try  just  a  bit  harder .  look  at  him  over  your  shoulder ,  taking  a  second  to  check  him  out  in  a  way  that  has  become  habit .  “ everyones  violating  humanity  these  days ,  what  more  damage  can  WE  really  do ?  but  if  you  can't  do  it    or  you're  scared    there's  still  time  to  leave .  don't  let  me  stop  you . ”

[chyremn]

@jerkchester: 05. jumps at a noise and instinctively grabs the others hand. meow

castiel sits rigidly on the couch within the dimly lit room. the only light provided coming from the flickering tv screen in front of the two. a horror movie currently playing ─ it had been dean's idea, really. the box casting shadows across the walls, flickering lights dancing over their faces. and the angel analyses it all ; each shape and silhouette, each sound the apparatus emits. cataloging the . . . unnatural physics of the film's so-called monsters. he merely puts his head askew as a bloodied woman appears on the screen. the jump scares are painfully predictable, he doesn't flinch at them. dean, however, is an entirely different matter.

when the shrill scream of that same bloodied woman erupts from the speakers, hunter twitches violently in his seat. a strangled yelp forcing its way out his throat. and without thinking, his hand shoots out ─ eager to find a place to anchor himself, something solid to hold on to. and that solidness happens to be castiel's hand. he feels that grasp ; surprisingly firm, shockingly warm. and very human.

angel freezes at the sudden contact, vessel's hand held in dean's. he doesn't shift, doesn't withdraw. he remains completely still with eyes fixed on the telecast. yet the grip lingers. so after a moment, slowly, castiel drops his gaze down to the hand resting on the couch, human's wrapped around angel's. until he carefully turns his head around to face him. ' you're startled. '

[chyremn]

@jerkchester: 03. throws an object across the room.

castiel had only been trying to help. but there he stands, looking down at the opened hood and the fuse box within ; melted at the edges like some . . . overcooked marshmallow neglected by the fire pit for too long. oh, this wasn't good at all. if it didn't work before it definitely didn't work now, not even with the attempted help of angelic grace. he's never really tried to mend automotive technology before. and it shows ! so, without giving himself any more time to reflect or reconsider, the angel appears in the motel room without the slightest warning. the way he always does, even though dean has repeatedly told him not to ─ this does, however, feel like the wrong time to prioritize etiquette.

' dean. ' castiel's voice makes the man jerk violently where he sits on the bed, half-slouched and remote in hand as the apparatus keeps blaring loudly. ' i'm afraid the . . . impala no longer functions. even worse than before. '

the man goes completely still. and it's jarring, to say the least. castiel continues, ' i assumed a small amount of my power would help. it didn't. but i was just attempting to assist ─ the edges might be partially melted. sort of resembling the way you like your cheese melted around your sandw    ' he doesn't get to finish. the other shoots up, voice cracking in disbelief. tv-remote flying across the room, hitting the wall with a crack, then bounces, before landing on the floor. battery cover popping off. castiel blinks at it. then another blink back to dean. ' . . . i can replace it. '

[chyremn]

@jerkchester: [steady.] sender holds receiver's trembling hands down gently against the sheets. bonk

angel watches the darkened figure above him. human's hand planted against the softness beside castiel's head, while the other drifts indecisively along vessel's throat, searching for a place to finally settle. he feels the warmth spreading throughout his form where he lies beneath the other. shirt half-unbuttoned. this was all dean's doing, but it was also dean's hesitation. and through all of this, he's still avoiding castiel's mouth ; lips pass deliciously close but never land where he truly wants them ─ instead, they end up against the skin under his jawline. castiel draws in a breath at the contact. a fragile and involuntary reaction at the feeling of dean's breath on his neck, at the faint scraping of teeth against flesh.

he lifts a hand toward the young man's cheek, intending to brush the hair out of his eyes to see them again. digits are trembling, however, and he's realizing it first now when dean catches his wrist. the motion slow and steady. almost soft. it's rare but it's real. and he's well aware it's a gentleness born out of fear. man above him presses castiel's hands down onto the sheets again, fingers lacing with the angel's. allowing his thumb to sweep over skin, just once, quickly, then pretending it never happened ─ leaving yet another bruise along his throat to distract him.

' dean. ' he whispers, feeling his own pulse beneath hunter's mouth. watching as the other turns his face away, once again, forehead resting against castiel's shoulder, drawing a sharp breath and mumbling something about how he should not try to start anything.

every time castiel tries to say something else, dean interrupts. a kiss somewhere else. a detour. still avoiding his mouth. and so he tries again - because he feels like he needs to. ' dean. you don't have to be gentle with me. '

[johnscn]

"i'm telling you you're a punk ass bitch just on principle." / @jerkchester

             invade  his  personal  space .  it  doesn't  feel  as  satisfying  /  intimidating  as  you  want  it  to .  he  never  cares  about  anyone  elses  space ,  and  he  always  gets  TOO  CLOSE .  part  of  you  wants  to  see  him  squirm  ;  to  see  just  a  little  fear  in  those  pretty  green  eyes  as  he  remembers  you  don't  even  have  to  raise  a  hand  to  break  him .  but  there  is  point  in  looking .  it  won't  be  there .  he's  faced  true  evil ,  just  like  you .  his  pet  angel  would  just  fix  him  up  even  if  you  did  damage  him .

             a  little  part  of  you ,  the  bit  that  took  a  few  minutes  too  long  enjoying  the  way  malick  CRACKED  apart ,  wants  to  test  that  theory .  see  how  FAST  they  fly  to  patch  him  up .  because  he  may  not  have  been  daddys  favourite  soldier  but  he  sure  was  someones    coulson  could  redact  and  security  protocol  the  psych  evals ,  but  you  rebuilt  the  security  system  and  WHO  could  fault  you  for  a  little  light  reading    and  maybe  he  would  HEEL  if  he  realised  there  were  consequences  for  pissing  you  off .

             but  that  isn't  you .  that  isn't  who  you  are .  it  can't  be .  you  don't  really  want  him  HURT  ...  just  to  shut  up .  it's  not  your  fault  usually  those  go  hand  in  hand .  " not  used  to  taking  orders  from  a  woman ,  are  you  winchester ? "  you  don't  even  care  if  it's  true ,  you  know  he  just  has  problems  taking  orders .   " is  it  the  not  being  in  charge ,  or  the  being  on  the  bottom .  in  the  hierarchy . "