NOTE: Readers, thank you so much for being patient. So many things going on...Anyway, here's a new chapter. I would like to hear what you think: the good, the bad, and the ugly. :-) Your feedbacks are important as this will help me improve. I have so many ideas, but I would love the hear yours, too. Thank you and enjoy!

Two months later...

"So, are you gonna tell me?" Heidi asked, chewing on her tofu burger. Did it turn to cud? I've been watching her chew on her food for almost an eternity, waiting on her to either spit it out or choke on it. Her diet, even her personality, changes depending on the guy she's with. One minute, she's all about meat, the next she despises it. If you did not guess it already, she's with a vegan or maybe a vegetarian. Can't really tell the difference. In my opinion, she needs help; she thinks otherwise.

"Hm..." I responded lazily, flipping through the pages of my book. Two months have come and gone; I'm back to my humdrum life. Nothing much changed after that day. Not a thing. "What are you talking about?" What I was reading was not really interesting, but the alternative was not one I want to entertain. I chose to ignore the specific day encounter.

It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, overcast and a tidbit nipply, with nothing else to do but study. Work doesn't start for me until 4 pm so here I am with Heidi wasting time on the bleachers, along with 30 or so other students, men and women. Why? Two words: football season. Practice started a few minutes ago and here they were watching, scratch that, ogling at these players. Many immature men running around who craves the attention, showing off what they got while some on the bleachers were giggling, cheering, and flirting. Some taking selfies and videos for insta, snapchat, or tiktok. I probably should've went somewhere else other than here. I'm either overdressed or underdressed for the occasion.

"Don't act dumb." Heidi posed, placing her french-manicured hand with red tips on my book. I decided to do exactly what she said and tried reading past her bedazzled thumb.

I guess that was not a good enough answer because she prodded a few minutes later. "Well?" And that was enough to bring me back to that night.

It was only supposed to be a quick good night kiss as he dropped me off, a reward for being such a gentleman. Not really a word I would use to describe Dean when I first met him at the bar, but those few hours we spent on the hood of his impala...next thing I knew, I grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, dragged him past the threshold, and slammed him against the wall. My lips on his like he was what I needed to survive.

...I was on my stomach, naked, surprisingly warm, somewhere around the house, maybe the living room. I don't know. It did not matter because in that moment, I was pinned down with no place to go. I wasn't scared; my brain was in shambles, I was eager. His teeth gently nibbling on my skin. "You sure you want it?" He was breathing raggedly, teasing me. His warmth enveloping me, making it hard to breathe. His body wanted it, too. The lower part of him was gyrating, rubbing himself against me. His throbbing likeness against my sensitive skin made my head roll against his shoulder.

My body was aroused and he knew it. His hands were all over me, exploring what he could while I was trapped. My body was writhing, but his weight on me stopped me from taking control. "Yes!" I responded with a voice so primal, I could not believe it came out of me. I tried to buck my back against him, hoping I could get the upper hand, but he was not having it. He wanted all the control. My knees hurting, scraping against the shaggy carpet. I was frustrated.

"Please," I begged, softly banging my head on the floor. I don't know what else to do. "I want it..."

"Tell me where I should fuck you," He breathed, his lips traveling from the nape of my neck down to my shoulders. I could feel the wet trail he was leaving, cold air tracing. His strong hands still wrapped around my wrists like a pair of shackles tightly binding me as he devoured me. When I didn't answer him, he bit my left shoulder so strong, an animalistic noise reverberated out of me. Oh, God, how could pain put my body in euphoria?! I felt a wave overcome my body, a shudder I never thought possible just from his bite.

"Tell me," he demanded, his right hand pulling on my hair, his other hand down south of me, stroking, my body trembling even more. When did his hands leave?His body melded on mine, his heart beating as fast and as hard, his breathing erratic. He couldn't contain his excitement.

Where?! How could he expect me to say it? I am a woman with...all morality went out the window. I was close. My eyes were rolling, my breathing was in tatters, my body in constant excitement. To hell with it..."In my p-" He didn't let me finish, he drove himself in.

My body roared as every inch of him ravaged me. Searing pain at first as his girth ripped me apart slowly, I screamed with gritted teeth, but that did not stop him. Tears down my face as he took me. "Dean..." I lustfully called out, my back arching. Before I could say anything more, he began to thrust in me rhythmically. The ribbed condom was an added bonus. My mind went into a tail spin, pleasure taking over.

"Say it again, Reima, please..." he insisted, moaning in my ear with every thrust. Not authoritatively this time. There was more of a longing in his voice, that this was more than just two bodies writhing for instant gratification, and I obliged willingly.

"Dean...mmm...Don't stop..." My body finally moving along with him. That made him move faster and harder. My groans and moans became louder with every thrust as my body was ready for that release. I pushed up against the floor and rocked my hips furiously against his, the pounding more intense.

"Oh, God," I moaned again. It was getting closer. I want to see his face, taste his lips, hold him, hurt him. His firm grip on my hips. I could hear him catching his breath, trying to hold on to whatever he had left. It didn't take much more; my body screamed in ecstasy underneath him, muscles spasming, moaning, grabbing on the tufts of the carpet as his thrusts became faster and harder. His grunts becoming more audible as I continuously quivered around what made him a man.

"Oh, we are just getting started Rae," he seductively whispered in my ear, flipping me around violently.

"Earth to Reima," Hearing Heidi brought me back to reality. Thank goodness...One thing about her, she does not take 'no' for an answer. This was one I wished she would leave alone. I breathed in and out slowly for many reasons: 1) blow out the memory of me and Dean that night, 2) to slow my heartbeat because as much as I despise him...and, 3) to quell my anger. I didn't need this right now, especially that. Instead, I answered with a vengeance. Rather than stop what I was doing, I brought my fist up and slammed it on the back of her hand as hard as I could.

"Good enough answer?" Violent, but it felt good. It replaced my lust with anger. Whatever sexual thoughts I had of Dean disappeared.

She yelped in pain, extracting her hand as fast as she could away from me. "What the fuck was that?!" My reaction was very unexpected. The group of girls next to us who were just loud and obnoxious a minute ago got quiet and began tuning in.

Heidi was seething in anger, eyes squinted, mouth puckered almost disappearing into itself. I just sat there with arms crossed. It may have been months since the one-who-must-not-be-named had his way with me; it was still something I didn't want to talk about, not even with my best friend.

"If you broke my nail..." She brought her hand close to her face for inspection. Nothing was broken. I wasn't even close to hitting her nails. "I have a date tonight." She gazed past me, searching for someone on the field. There were a bunch of guys running around, pushing each other, tackling pushing sleds. Yet, she was able to find her guy, blowing a kiss his way.

"Bah!" I scoffed, swatting her hand. I can't believe that was her concern. They both make me sick. "Put your hand back down and I will make sure to break each and every single one," I dared, tapping on my opened book.

I turned around and faced the girls next to us. "I can do the same thing to you all, if you want. So, turn the fuck around and mind your own business!" I sneered at the nosy students, who left not a moment too soon. Some of them huffed and some of them glared. I gave them a charming smile.

"Bitch," one of them with a pointy nose spat. I looked her up and down. She was as tall as the Coit tower. If you don't know where it's at, it's in San Francisco. She may be considered hot by some of the jocks on the field; I don't see it.

"It takes one to know one," I responded haughtily. She must have not liked what I said because she was coming at me with smoke coming out of her ears. If it weren't for Rick who appeared out of thin air, she would have clocked me.

"Hey, Sam. Looking good today," Rick fawned over her, stopping her in her tracks. 'good job, Rick,' I thought to myself, while he continued to shower her with flattery. I can't really tell if he meant it or not because his back was to me. I didn't care, either way and I was not sticking around to find out. I began packing my things and Rick noticed.

"W-wait. You're leaving?" He stammered, ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of a useless conversation with Samantha Campbell, who clearly was drooling over him. "I just got here. I thought we could hang out."

That took my by surprise, but I kept my resting bitch face. "And do what exactly?" I did not bother looking up. Richard Dixon, 5 feet 8 inches, with blue eyes, brunette hair, and an athletic built. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to him like latex, showing off six-pack abs and humongous biceps. His faded blue jeans were no different. I might be dead inside, it does not mean I'm blind. The crowd says he resembles Zac Efron during his Baywatch stint. They're not wrong and you can't miss the guy. He's practically naked when he is on the field. You guessed it, he is a football player, a part of the starting lineup. So, why is he not on the field?

I don't know when Sam Campbell left, but she was no longer there when I glanced at Rick, the popular Dick. "Whatever you want. Catch a movie, go out to dinner...whatevs. You know what's on the menu? Me n' u," ending it with what he thinks is a beautiful smile. I think it is nauseating.

'Menu? Me n' u?' I was so flabbergasted that I was rendered speechless. Even Heidi was embarrassed by such an embarrassing pickup line. I pinched the bridge of my nose, thinking of a way to reject him politely. What came out was anything but. "Richard, cut the damn crap. I'm not Laney Boggs. We don't get to do 'whatevs," I said with air quotation marks, "I'm not gonna be on your 'netflix and chill' list and then share your sexcapades with what you call 'bros' in the goddamn locker room!" I was struggling against my anger and I didn't care who was listening in because believe me, everybody was, at this point.

Rick's beautiful face turned red with embarrassment and that for a split second, I felt sorry for him. I think he finally understood what I was trying to say because he literally backed away Before I could humiliate him any further, which I wasn't, a hand grabbed my arm so hard, whirled me around, causing me to trip over my legs. I tumbled over, bag flew off only God knows where, hitting my forehead on the bleachers and then, everything was embraced by darkness.

October 3, 2022 Richardson, TX

"Ghostfacers, my ass!" He growled as he placed his weapons back in the trunk. He had to face a tulpa, which appeared because of a website that garnered thousands of fans. Some guy named Mordechai Murdoch. He was able to beat the tulpa, but it took a burnt house. "Jackass!" He growled again as he drove away in his black, shiny car, kicking up some dirt.

As soon as he was a mile away from the site of destruction, he breathed easier. Not only was it case closed but also because he was 'home.' His car may not be much, but it was enough for him: a 1967 Chevy Impala, which was originally his dad's. After the fire in Lawrence, Kansas, which killed his mom when he was four, he and his dad lived in seedy motels. It was also then when he learned how to hunt what went bump in the night. He was what they call a hunter and his dad made it a family business, not that he was making any money. So, his adoptive brother, Garth Fitzgerald IV, assisted him with fake names and credit cards. Sometimes, those he helped donated cash or with carnal payment. But lately, he rejected many sexual encounters. Maybe it was time to get back in it.

He was tired, but he also wanted a few drinks to help him unwind and maybe a woman to get him there. He debated between the motel just a few miles down the road and the roadhouse. "Eh? Why not? I'll sleep when I'm dead," he muttered to himself.

Just as he was about to make a right turn into the roadhouse whose signage he saw a few miles back, his phone rang. "Dean. Hey-o," came the voice on the other end. It was Garth. Many considered him weird, but Dean called him family. He later admitted that Garth grew on him.

"Garth, I'm not in the mood today. I just killed a friggin' tulpa and I'm bone tired. Whatever it is, it can wait." He rubbed his temple, looking at the roadhouse. Lots of bikes and beat up cars, hopefully lots of women to choose from.

"Wait, it cannot," Garth said, copying Yoda. Dean pulled his phone away from his ear, contemplating if he should hang up or let baby Yoda say his piece. He chose the latter. "And knowing you, you just pulled into some random roadhouse."

It unnerved him that Garth knew him too well. Or Garth placed a tracker somewhere he did not know about. He will have to talk to Garth about privacy one of these days. "I don't have all day so spit it out!" He barked instead.

"Well, somebody woke up on the middle of the bed today. I guess you didn't get laid last night." The other man sneered. Garth knew Dean too well.

"GARTH!"

"Okay, okay. No need to get your panties in a bunch! This is newsworthy. Got word that there's a demon in San Francisco. Don't know if it's the same one, but..." Garth let that hang in the air. He has heard the story from John countless of times and he has made it his mission to assist the Winchesters as much as he can. When he didn't hear Dean say anything, "Dean? You there?"

Dean was lost in thought the moment he heard 'demon.' He and his dad have been hunting for a demon they dubbed 'yellow eyes.' They don't know why it was in the house in the first place, but it was the reason why his mom, Mary Winchester, died a horrifying death, burned on the ceiling alive. It was also the reason why his dad, John Winchester, became a hunter. He left a few weeks ago on a hunt but hasn't been back since. Dean is holding onto hope that he is alive and that John is just trying to lay low. He absentmindedly began playing with a white-gold ring on his right ring finger, which eased his mind. It was a nondescript ring he picked up two months ago.

"Dean? Hello? Did you hang up?" By then, Dean was already out of the impala checking out his surroundings. Nothing looked out of place, basically no cops. But if what Garth said was true, he had no time to waste at the roadhouse.

"Text me the address," he finally responded, hanging up, throwing his phone on the bench seat, getting in his car, and driving off, catching his second wind.