#i almost just fucked you anyway right then & there for even saying it
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kamitv · 2 days ago
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Husband!Sukuna who isn’t sensitive, he swears. But when it’s you? He’s still not sensitive. Just
 alert, if you will. Tense even. But not sensitive. Affection starved? Perhaps, but he won’t ever say that to you.
Husband!Sukuna doesn’t even realize how much his body longs for your touch. In the beginning of your relationship with him, he used to curse you out for touching him too often but now? Ever so softly would Sukuna relax after a touch from you.
His favorite touches from you come from when you’re half-asleep.
Early in the morning, practically at the crack of dawn, you’d wake up and turn to your grumpy husband. He’s never truly asleep but he often pretends to be, something you’d picked up on a long time ago.
Even so, he’d feel you move around in the bed but what always gets him is you tossing your leg over him and laying half of your body on top of his, your head using his naked chest as a pillow.
Husband!Sukuna swears he hates when you do that—or that’s what he tells you anyway. Then comes your hand, snaking up his chest, feeling every cut and crease of his abs until you reach his neck.
Then your finger is outlining his jawline. That drives him mad, such a soft and faint touch that makes him swallow thickly as he body struggles not to react to you.
He’s not sensitive. But he is tense.
Following those gentle touches is something you'd never dare to do when you're not in your sleep-induced state. You sit up and comfort yourself right on his lap, thighs spread over your husband, who's currently pretending to be asleep.
Though, his false state of rest falters when you get on top of him, your hands pressed so lightly on his chest and your panty-clad cunt resting right over his rising cock. He really was a simple male at heart, despite not showing it or expressing it much, if ever at all.
Eyes cracking open and settling on you, the woman in which he's decided to claim as his wife, your Husband!Sukuna releases a long sigh and his hands begin to move, finding their rightful place on your thighs.
Your skin is so fucking soft in comparison to his own, rough fingers caressing your thighs as Sukuna swears he's dreaming because just who exactly has given you permission to mount him in such a sexual manner?
"Woman," Sukuna grunts out, "Get off me."
A smile, one that he enjoys seeing deep deep deep down inside, graces your tired features and it makes his body freeze up a little, "Husband," You call out mockingly, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you look while you're sleeping?"
"No." He answers boringly.
You chuckle and it makes his ears twitch, "Are you aware that even in your sleep your brows tense up?" You murmur to the man as you take one finger and bring it up to his brows, poking the space in between them, "Hm?"
His grouchy facial expression doesn't change, "I am now," He replies, voice raspy and making you squirm slightly in his lap, "Are you aware that after being fucked for five hours straight you wake up the next morning annoying me more than normal?"
Your head tilts as you flash him those loving eyes of yours with a grin far too cheerful for these early mornings, "I'm annoying you?"
"Yes." He deadpans.
"Aw," You weigh forward over your husband and plant a sweet kiss right onto the skin of his tatted forehead, "Love you too 'Kuna."
There's this weird chill that shudders throughout his body as your lips press against his skin and he frowns before muttering, "Get off of me."
Your grin widens and you plant a few more pecks of affection all over his aggravated expression, "Mmmmmh, no."
"Insufferable you are, truly." Sukuna sighs and his big hands travel upward along the softness of your thighs, soothing over your legs back and forth in a way that's almost tender.
Your lips meet his jaw and you lick him, to which he kisses his teeth. "You said the same thing during our wedding night I believe," You remind him.
A thick brow of his arches, "And?"
"I think being mean is your love language." You lean back up and stare down at the full glory of your husband.
Ruby red eyes all low up on you, almost as if you were the only thing worth gazing upon, "Mh." He hums.
The look on your face changes a bit as the sun peeking into your bedroom filters around your sleeping space and casts a warm glow against your grumpy husband's features. You run your hands down his tattooed chest again and whisper his name beneath your breath, "Sukuna..."
He glares at you, like always, and his tone is beyond flat, "Woman."
And suddenly you're smiling, "Ryomen."
"Don't," He huffs before rolling his eyes elsewhere. You only ever call him that when you're about to say-
"I love you."
It's quiet for a long awkward moment, as always whenever you utter those three words to him. Husband!Sukuna can't stand it when you say that. It's such a ridiculous thing for humans to say.
So, instead of saying it back, he just grumbles an (attempted) affectionate, "I tolerate you too."
As always, you're left baffled by the difficulty he finds in saying he loves you too, "I-"
"Now get off me, I won't tell you again." Your husband scoffs with this cute, yet still grumpy, scrunch of his nose.
Just staring down at him makes you want to devour him whole. How can this big softy possibly be the king of curses who many fear to much.
Hell, you don't even hesitate to reply to his order with one of your own, "Make me."
Who would expect anything less from the wife of Sukuna Ryomen, of course you don't follow his every command like everyone else, he married you for that reason exactly. "Testing my patience early today, huh?" Sukuna asks, giving you little to no time to reply before he's moving.
Now, sometimes you forget the sheer size difference between you and your husband. Which is completely okay, he's sure to remind you of it within a few seconds as he flips you over onto your back and pins you down onto the bed below.
Pink hair all ruffled, expression as pouty and irritated as always, like some kinda' big cat, and beefy arms pinning you with a force that's so notably gentle you can't help the smile that sparks across your face.
Giggling too, "Hi Ryo'."
He grits his teeth at the sound of that nickname but the corner of his lips twitch, "....Hi wife." Sukuna say begrudgingly. Then... Then comes your full smile. "Don't make that face, you look foolish."
"I'm smiling?" You snort as your brows meet.
He scoffs, "Foolish."
Your hands rise up to his face to cup in your palms, to which he instantly leans into your touch. "It's okay to soften up every now and then, y'know."
His gaze does exactly that and he presses his cheek further against the warmth of your hands, "This is me softening up."
"You do so very poorly," You tell him honestly.
And to your surprise, Sukuna blinks. "Teach me, then."
"Hm?"
He leans down, past your touch, and whispers against your lips, "Teach me to be soft." He says lovingly before kissing you.
You merely melt into the connection of his lips to yours. Your arms loop around his neck and you hold him close as you pry from him to whisper right back, "It's not hard, just... talk nicer to me."
His eyes narrow skeptically, "Is that truly what you want?"
"I wouldn't mind it, yes." You taunt with a little shrug.
With a heavy sigh, Sukuna repositions his large body in between your legs, "Just for now then."
You look down and scoff lightly, "Hm?"
"I'll be 'soft" while you rid me of this," He continues, pressing the large curve of his hardened cock right against your flimsy panties.
Your eyebrows shoot up and your lashes bat at his words, "Oh, so you're gonna talk me through it for once?"
Sukuna draws his hips back just a little, only to rock the forwards against your warm clothed cunt seconds latter, chuckling cockily, "Don't I always?"
Your lips pull into a thin line, as best as you can, while you glare up at him, "No, you curse me through it."
"You enjoy it," He says with a shrug., working up that delicious friction between his body and yours.
Your gaze wonders elsewhere for a mere moment as you allow your legs to then wrap around his waist and encourage his grind against you. Then, with parted lips and a shaky sigh, "Yes, but it'd be nice for you to talk nicer to me sometimes."
"Mhm," Sukuna nods genuinely. Surely, whatever his wife desires of him... he'll be sure to put forth his best effort in satisfying said desire, "I will try. Now, let's get all this off of you..."
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pseudonymousposting · 1 day ago
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Just use the word from before. You don't really need to worry about having a different word for everything unless the difference serves a purpose.
If your story is first person or primarily follows a specific POV or is told by a specific narrator, wouldn't it make sense that the storyteller is not a walking dictionary?
When people speak, they tend to have patterns anyway, and you don't notice them unless you're looking for it. I can refer to Hbomberguy's bit in his plagiarism video where he mentions that an AI asked to write a segment in his style uses the words, "buckle up." This points to how he uses that phrase often.
He jokes that this is because he's bad at writing. I beg to differ. The consistent use is really fucking good, actually, and I hope he doesn't correct for it in the future.
The pattern, when used specifically by him, has certain implications that will prompt a fan of his videos to notice when he is making a salient point integral to the theme he is conveying throughout the entire video. You also know that the example he is about to use is probably pretty goddamn funny, or notable, or egregious. Maybe you noticed that before. Maybe. If you've watched all of his videos, like twice each, at least.
If you're a fan of Dimension 20, it's quite likely you know all the words Brennan Lee Mulligan uses ALL the time.
Rad
INcredible
Hell yeah
All are little communicators from him as a DM. They're used so often, even casual watchers meme about it. Also Matt Mercer saying "how do you want to do this." Also make note, if Brennan Lee Mulligan starts monologuing with a question, brace yourself.
The use of these common, consistent, repetitive phrases actually communicates more. It would be ridiculous if Brennan Lee Mulligan got shy about using the same term and clumsily said "inferno affirmative," or something. Unless he was purposely doing it as a clunky bit just for laughs, and even then, doing it unprompted would just get a blank stare at this point. The repetition has a benefit, not a deficit.
Your peerless vocabulary is not the most important component of your craft. Your story is. Care less about finding a million different words to say the same thing, and focus more on saying what you need to say. Story good, not word good.
When people read a story, they might say "the plot was well constructed." Or, "the suspense kept me on my seat." Or, "I laughed so hard."
You know what they won't say? "There's was a nice diversity of words there. The writer did a good job of making sure they didn't use a word twice on a given page." I'd argue that if that's what a reader notices, the writer failed to craft a good story.
Complimenting a person on their extensive vocabulary is more a thing an adult does for a 'gifted' child. It's better to write an excellent narrative at a 3rd grade reading level than to write a bad story at a collegiate level.
Hell, it's better to write a good story at a 3rd grade level than it is to even write an amazing story at a collegiate level. You're communicating. Make sure you are doing so effectively first and foremost. Everything else is just fluff.
This falls in line with the thing where people will try to cap off quotes with unnecessary modifiers where "said" does just fine and is almost invisible. Y'know, the ol' "'snape!' Slughorn ejaculated." Why say many words when few words do trick, eh?
Not to say finding the right synonym isn't useful. Sometimes, a synonym carries specific implications or a slightly different meaning more suited to that particular use case. In this case, that synonym might actually be a better fit to serve your purpose.
Alternatively, it's possible the character could be more likely to use that word over another for any particular reason. It can speak to who they are in a way that can help you avoid a little exposition here and there. Hell, using outdated terms might do the same.
For example, a now deceased man who was an instructor before I flunked out of college, who was nearly 90 years old. I think he sometimes used stories from his career to try and provide a point without giving answers.
He started one such story with "there was this guy I worked with a long time ago. He was uh ambidextrous, yknow what I mean? Uhh, he was a switch-hitter or a uhh..a bisexual..."
I'm not gonna lie, I was fucking awestruck at the term "switch-hitter," referencing bisexuality. That term instantly made me a patriot for about two weeks. I'd never heard anything more apple-pie, bald eagle with a single tear, and inside the tear, you can see the twin towers, Ole Glory waving proudly in the background with fireworks bursting over the top motherfuckin AMERICA than "switch-hitter" meaning "bisexual" holy shit.
Anyway, shortening things, I flunked out, met my abuser, and fled town because I just couldn't live in the same town as them anymore. He called to check on me.
He told me he keyed in that something was wrong and felt the need to check in. He believed my story. He said a lot that helped me with my recovery.
Part of my story involved the fact that I'm trans, as queer relationship dynamics were, like, central to the abuse. Interestingly, unlike many people in their 40s, 50s, and 60s, this man pushing his 90s understood every single damn word of what I was saying.
I bring up this story because of the synonyms he uses and how we can think about their use in context. My mind trails back to the term "switch hitter," a 1960s slang term for bisexual used right after "Ambidextrous," an earlier term. Of course, the man immediately understood all this queer mumbo-jumbo I was saying and didn't flinch even a little about my being trans.
However, its use from a 90-year-old right after "ambidextrous" tells an entirely different story. It drops a hint that this guy may have been, at the very least, accepting of people who were involved in the gay rights movement during the time.
Desperately seeking a synonym for "bisexual" might yield you to terms which are today potentially offensive or harmful, but before the 1970s were descriptors that bisexuals would sometimes use to describe themselves. So, depending on who uses that term, it could be harmful, or it could be someone who fought against that harm long before that term ever had potential negative implications.
Also, note how many times I just said, "bisexual?" Did it feel repetitive? Probably not.
If the use of the synonym serves no purpose other than feeling like you need to use a different word, consider, "Why am I really looking for a synonym, here?" If it doesn't serve a specific purpose, then feel free to just use whatever word makes sense. If it matters for one reason or another, use that. Just use what works. This ain't a vocabulary test. You don't need to impress your middle school English teacher anymore. You're free.
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mulloey · 22 hours ago
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distracted
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bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.
words: 2.9k
part of my february festival event
join my taglist
warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc
i am not responsible for the content you consume.
“What is this?”
He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”
“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.
You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.
“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”
Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.
“Joong
” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.
Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”
You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.
You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”
Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”
“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.
“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.
Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”
“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”
“Pull her panties down and find out.”
Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.
“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”
A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”
“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”
“No, sir,” you whisper.
“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”
You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.
“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“
Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.
“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”
You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”
“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”
You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”
Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”
His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”
You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.
“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”
Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.
He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”
“60, Professor,” you mumble.
“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”
“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”
You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.
“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.
“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”
You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”
“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”
You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”
You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”
“Two, I’m
 I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”
The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”
You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.
The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.
“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”
“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”
“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”
The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”
You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”
“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”
“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”
You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.
“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.
“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”
He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.
Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.
“Hm
” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”
“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”
“No, sir,” you mumble.
“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”
“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”
It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.
He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”
Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”
“There’s those manners,” he praises.
He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.
He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”
You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”
The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”
You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”
“Y-yeah,” you gasp.
The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.
You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.
When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.
“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”
Your heart jumps. “What?”
“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”
You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.
Lucky for you, so are they.
—
comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! loveđŸ–€đŸ–€đŸ–€
ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)
february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension
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futbolfatale · 3 days ago
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Origin Story
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Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi LeĂłn/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader,
Summary: You get invited to a Barca game by an Alpha at your school who wouldn't accept.
Tags/Warnings: Dubious consent, Bathroom sex, scent marking,
Note: Only is Mapi the only one in this but there will probs be a part 2 with the rest of the pack.
The only reason I've been writing lately is @insomniakisses who definitely doesn't know I exist but I love their blog.
Something about their writing has inspired me for better or worse.
Wordcount: 1.1K
When you got invited to the Barca vs Real Madrid Game by a girl at your college of course you accepted.  She was in a couple of your classes but all you knew about her is that she is an alpha and is kind of a dick. But you would be crazy not to know how expensive tickets are and surely she can’t be as bad as everyone says. But this girl surely has another motive for inviting you. It will come to light soon as you sit next to each other in the crowded stadium. Her scent is aggressive forward and fills the space around you it's almost like Lily and maybe an undertone of patchouli. Overall not the best when you're already surrounded by unfamiliar scents. 
You can’t help but grow excited as they walk out. Okay, so you may have a major crush on some of the players. By some you mean most but it makes since it’s pretty common knowledge that the different teams are packs. Which makes transfers even more devastating. Even so, everyone knows that Barca has two omegas already which is already more than most other packs. They differently don’t need another which is devastating to you but it's not like you could ever be with them anyway. It’s rare for a Futbal pack to mate with someone outside of the football world.
It’s around 20 minutes in before Maddie, whose name you’ve just learned, takes off her sweater revealing that she is wearing a Real Madrid jersey. “Are you seriously wearing that right now?” You ask incredulously. “Ya Real Madrid is going to win, I promise you. They are the superior team,” she responded as if you were stupid for thinking any different. “Barca is definitely better, they have a stacked roster.” You argue back, growing more annoyed. Most likely due to her attitude problem and overwhelming scent. “Real Madrid will win” She seems so assured of herself as if she can already see the outcome of the game. “That's never going to happen. I bet you Barca will win and If they don’t I will write your next essay for you.”. “Deal”
It's not even 10 minutes later that Hansen scores and you're left with a smile on your face. It’s a good feeling to know your rights. Maybe you’ll pick up a sweet treat on the way home. You deserve it after dealing with this idiot. But it's all worth it for free tickets. “I told you” You gloat but only a little. “They're going to pull through one goal doesn’t mean anything,” Maddie responds sharpley her scent turning sour. “One goal can be the difference between winning and losing” You count to praud her mostly for your amusement. “ You think I don’t know that. I know football better than you.” She growls her fangs obvious in her aggressive state. So maybe you fucked with her a little too much but god it was so funny. “Sorry,” You startle as Pajor scores. You definitely made the right choice when picking a team to support.
By the end of the game, you are bursting with excitement a 5-0 win is crazy. You can feel Maddie seething beside you but it doesn’t sour your mood. As you move to stand at the barricade watching the players trade jerseys and such. Then Mapi Leon comes to your section and you're practically vibrating as she strips off her jersey. She walks closer to you her scent is so strong probably from running for so long. “ Would you like it?” She asks looking directly into your eyes. It's like a shock to your system “Yes” You take it from her gratefully and she flashes a toothy grin. “You so pretty princess” Her voice is so low. “Thank you” You can’t help but blush as she sprints off to join her team.
You gather up your things and walk out of the stadium with Maddie. You are starting to feel overheated and are growing quickly annoyed by Maddie.  Her mood has only seemed to worsen since the end of the game. The heated feeling only grows as you move through the stadium. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we leave.” You split off from Maddie not waiting to hear her response. You have all your things if she leaves you it won’t be the end of the world. You slip into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath of the jersey. It smells strongly of citrus and has an undertone of cinnamon. It soothes some of the heat under your skin.
You startle as the bathroom opens and someone else steps inside. It takes a moment for their scent to register. Citrus and cinnamon same as the jersey. You open the stall door and peek out to see Mapi standing by the door looking directly at you. “I thought I could smell you in here” She hurried towards you and pushed you back into the stall. “What are you doing” You ask dropping the jersey as she grabs your wrist. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You smell so good” She nuzzles her face into your neck. “Let me have you please” She whispers her accent thicker than before. “You want me but you have Ona if you want an omega” You reason. Sure you want this but you want her to think clearly. “I can and have had Ona but I want you. Once I have had you im sure they will want you as well.” she pushes you into the wall and slides a hand down your pants. Her fingers trace along your cunt through your underwear. “Say yes please I need you” She whimpers into your shoulder tonguing at your scent gland. “Yes. Yes please” you moan rolling your hips against her hand. She slides her fingers past your underwear to rub at your clit. ‘Take me please I need it too bad.”You moan grinding against her. “Shh you can have it see” she slips two fingers inside you with ease. It makes you uncomfotbly aware of how slick you are. It only last a second before shes distracting you by moving her fingers and using her other hand to rub at you clit.
You cum twice before Mapi finally lets up. As you catch you breath she is collecting your things and straightening out your clothes and hair. “ Come with me we are having dinner tonight. Please,” she asks tacting on the please almost as an afterthought. “I'll go but I've got school tomorrow and I really can’t afford to miss any more of my lectures this semester.” You explain as the two of you head out of the stall. Mapi stops to wash her hands before leading you out of the stadium.
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skribbledarker · 2 days ago
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Back on my bs with another Zosan brainworm
. post Skypiea feels
—
Sanji, after having his “I needed a light” moment and getting shocked head-on by Enel, gains big lichtenberg scars that never fade. They’re darker than his usual skin tone, spiraling down the back of his neck, the entire expanse of his back, then curling around his shoulders and hips.
he hates them. Sanji thinks they make him look diseased, or like Frankenstein, sort of.. He doesn’t think scars are bad or ugly, no. It’s just the way they look on him.
He goes to so many lengths to hide them from the rest of the crew; he takes showers after everyone else is asleep, and his short-sleeved shirts get pushed to the back of the closet.
Chopper’s the only one who’s seen them. well, until Zoro. Somewhere in between when they didn’t like each other and when they suddenly did, the swordsman catches Sanji late at night in the bathroom, shirtless and twisting around himself to look at his back in the mirror.
Somehow, they end up on the floor, Sanji sitting cross-legged on the tile, hunched over with red tipped ears as Zoro sits behind him, taking his time tracing the patterns over Sanj’s skin.
“Do they hurt?” Zoro asks, grazing a calloused thumb over the back of Sanji’s neck.
“Sometimes. they sting when it gets cold.”
Zoro doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sanji feels like a bug under a microscope, just sitting there, being inspected like this. He finds himself zoning out— he doesn’t want to be here right now. This is embarassing.
“I like them.”
“Huh?”
And then Zoro’s hands are smoothing over Sanji’s shoulders, warm and careful like he’s handling a blade. “What, you don’t? It looks badass.”
no, they really don’t. “No. It looks
stupid.” Ugly, is what Sanji wants to say, but he doesn’t. The word suddenly seems a little too crass for whatever’s going on right now.
“Do mine, then?” Zoro counters, and that’s different. Zoro wears his like a collection, each mark a record of battles he’s won and lost and a testament to the shit he’s survived. Sanji hasn’t ever been blemished like that, barring the faint lines on the bridge of his nose still barely visible after eleven years. The scars just look out of place on him. Like they aren’t supposed to be there.
“No, no.” Sanji shakes his head. “Yours are— are badass.”
Zoro pauses again. “They look like vines.”
“Oh, so i’m sprouting greenery like you, now?”
That gets an exasperated huff out of Zoro, and Sanji can feel breath fanning over the back of his neck. “Stop, ‘m serious.”
It’s frightening, kind of, being laid bare under the watchful eye of someone else like this. Sanji can’t even see Zoro (well, besides his hands), but it’s almost like he can— the weight of his gaze falls heavy on Sanji’s back.
“Of course you are.”
A chill slides up Sanji’s spine when Zoro’s hands slide down to his waist, thumbing at the spots where the scars encroach onto his stomach. “ ‘s Pretty.”
Sanji’s throat suddenly feels dry, because the admission of pretty feels less like a descriptor of the lightning bolts spiraling down his back and more about him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Never thought I’d hear you call something ‘pretty,’ you brute.”
“Maybe you needed to.”
Maybe you needed to. Fuck, Maybe Sanji did.
—
gughhhh this was supposed to be a little drabble but got out of hand so fucking quickly??1!1?1?
anyways i want to shoot both of them dead lololololol
i also love projecting my self-image issues onto Sanji
. my blorbo AHHH
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jd-loves-fiction · 2 days ago
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Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work
Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them
🌑so glad you liked itđŸ„șđŸ„șalso the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy đŸ„ș
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✩ đđšđšđ­đĄđąđ„đ„ ✩
If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all
Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted
On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him
And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body
He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him
Reminds him that he's still humanđŸ„ș
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✩ đ–đžđ„đ­ ✩
Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there
He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off
Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon
All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart
Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed
He's overjoyed!! But internally :)
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✩ đƒđ«. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐱𝐹 ✩
Truly baffled, at first
He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way
Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased
At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it
And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...
There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄
Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly
I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it
The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little
When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know
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✩ 𝐉𝐱𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐼𝐚𝐧 ✩
Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!
Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it
He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really
It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill
He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort
Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on
And Yanqing did the same with him
So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD
HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭
He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time
Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))
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✩ đ†đšđ„đ„đšđ đĄđžđ« ✩
Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING
Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before
People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before
Though that feels very different to him
When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously
But you? Oh he's taking it seriously
Ego? Inflated to hell and back
He's being extra sweet and caring with you
Making sure you eat and rest, etc
Gotta live up to his reputation 😉
The dad who stepped up fr
Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately
Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)
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the-ghost-of-jason-todd · 2 days ago
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Interesting that you bring that up, because I think it ties into a different Jason post I made once. You don't have to read all of that, the important part is this:
i think thats my favorite thing about the red hood. he pulls people out of the abyss. he never steps entirely out of the shadows himself, but he will extend a hand to someone else, until they can get their own grip and climb past him. he did it with roy and kori, and with the random pyg minion in batman reborn, and with duela dent, and suzie su, and bunker, and ma gunn, and in a way even his own father. he does it all the time, and i love him for that.
That post is in regards to the (eventual) conclusion to the Duela Dent arc, where Jason helps her unjokerfy and go back home. Because it really is a theme we see! I don't think DC did it intentionally, especially since half of these happened during Scott Lobdell's runs and I don't think the man did anything except throw spaghetti at a wall in the hopes that it would stick, but it's become a theme. (....Scott Lobdell also had the Generation Outlaw storyline that he didn't fucking land or conclude in any satisfying way, but that's a rant for a different day).
Anyway, the point is that yeah, in some ways Jason DOES still have to choose. A lot of the storylines he has are with people who do, eventually, decide to be less morally gray. And that's just something he doesn't do. Or, if he somehow did, if he TRULY came back into the light, he would ABSOLUTELY lose the ideological purity that drove him in the UTRH era. I'm not saying it's not possible for someone to stay with him in his moral gray zone or even in his True Villain Zone, but there is actually an interesting tragedy in the fact that no one does, because it kind of highlights the point of his character--which is that he KNOWS BOTH SIDES and he CHOOSES to stay somewhere between them. He wavers sometimes in canon, moves more toward one side or the other, but so far he always returns to that gray zone, consistently, every single time.
Comics are, in a lot of ways, black and white. Questions of morality are almost always framed in what is right and what is wrong. Characters are good or bad. Things are mutually exclusive. I don't think it's impossible to find the balance, but IMO it would be much trickier to make it work, especially in canon. To find that balance and make it truly compelling would need some significant skill. We would need someone who was truly okay to live in that gray zone, but whose values wouldn't turn out to be incompatible (which is often, I think, why he and Rose don't usually work out when they're put together. Rose WOULD be that character, but I just don't think they're sustainable, generally speaking).
With that in mind, I can see why it's usually the Batfam that he returns to in search of family. He doesn't want things that are fleeting. He doesn't want "well, we can put Joker in Arkham until his next breakout", he wants the Joker DEAD. And he really doesn't want the people in his life to give up on him!! He WANTS both. NEEDS it, maybe. Even as far back as UTRH we saw this tension. Jason is holding VERY tightly to his ideals in that comic, and still he all but begs Bruce to join him so that he can have both. His origins will always be most deeply rooted in the Batfam. But maybe that brings a different sort of tension to the question--one having to do with whether a fan wants Jason to keep hold of his history, his roots, and find the permanence that Bruce promised when he took Jason in... or if they want him to give that up and forge a new future with a new family.
Jason really is, IMO, about tension. Not just in the conflict sense, though he does tend to bring tension and conflict to interactions. But thematically, his character and his arcs are filled with themes that constantly pull him in opposing directions. Even the dichotomy of the poverty he faced as a child versus the abundance of living with a millionaire is like that. In a lot of ways, canon tells us that he really just can't have everything he wants. So the question is... what does he have to give up?
i’m starting to realize there are at least two camps of jason todd fans. 
there are the ideological campers, who took under the red hood and ran with it.  the ones who believe whole-heartedly that jason todd is a character with a moral stance–counter, perhaps, to the man who raised him and the monsters that shaped him, but extant, all the same.  these people see jason shucking his ideals in canon and scoff, saying that it is a loss of integrity and a tragedy of what was good characterization. 
and then there are the emotional campers.  the ones who saw jason todd’s pain, his desire for a family who loved him enough to act as executioner.  it wasn’t an ideological purity that drove him–it was the emotional one, the familial one, and these people see jason struggling to mend bridges once burned and cheer him onward.  the ones who desperately want to see him shed his lone wolf persona and really, truly, become a part of the family.
in some sense, it ends up being a question of how faithful to the original characterization you want to be.  when jason is the villain and often when he’s the outlaw, he is antithetical to batman by nature.  he grips his pain and grief in his hands and uses it to act, same as batman, but in a diametrically opposed way.  in order to hang onto this, to keep this opposition in place, he cannot have his family.  but in order to have his family, to change from what he once became, he cannot have his ideals.
and i think it’s neat, because both of these camps want jay to succeed, you know?  but the question lies in whether they want that success to be in ‘cleansing gotham’/‘ridding the world of that which hurt him so no one else can be hurt’, so that he might save the world


or if they want it to be just him, reaching out a hand to someone and asking to be lifted up, so that he might save himself.
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suzukiblu · 3 days ago
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okay I SLIGHTLY dragged my ass writing/getting this up, it's been kind of A Day(tm), BUT: first day of the first February weekly WIP behind the cut; "the puzzle trap sex-room". content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he's FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. So uh, you know, just Kon's . . . entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Is the possibility of having given Robin an STI the only reason you can think of to be concerned about the events of the night?” Batman asks, perfectly neutral like another fucking trap–like he thinks Superboy’s the stupidest thing alive and gonna fucking fall for that again–and Superboy actually almost does disassemble this whole stupid cave. Or at least that huge-ass computer Batman’s got taking up half a wall over there or maybe some of those fancy Batsuits and all their utility belts full of souped-up gear, anyway. 
He’s real fuckin’ tempted to disassemble the Batmobile. 
Besides, if anyone gave–gave anyone a fucking STI, it was obviously the fucking prick who lied about not having fucking condoms on him. 
“I saved your fucking sidekick’s fucking life, asshole,” Superboy bites off roughly, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. The muscles that try to tense under Superman’s grip can’t–not as much as normal, anyway. Superman’s grip is just–it’s not something Superboy can do anything about, and that is pissing him the fuck off right now. “You could at least pretend to be, I dunno, fuckin’ grateful instead of just being a dick about my goddamn personal life.” 
“You haven’t described your personal life,” Batman says in that same bullshit neutral tone. “Or your dating history, or anything similar. You’ve described predatory adult women taking advantage of their age and experience to manipulate and take advantage of you.” 
“Let the fuck go of me or I’m gonna fucking make somebody sorry about it,” Superboy says to Superman, his voice flatter than the goddamn floor. Like–very literally flatter, since some of the floor’s clearly kinda just hacked out of the rock. 
He is actually about to go fucking nuclear on this bullshit non-conversation where no one’s fucking listening to him. 
Getting fucking lectured is not, in fact, any kind of a conversation. 
And he’s not–like, what the fuck is this bullshit, where they’re pretending like they’re asking him things and all they’re actually doing is making fucking assumptions and twisting everything he does say and not even fucking listening to him! 
“Kid, we just–” Superman starts in that bullshit voice like he’s trying to sound concerned instead of ever fucking listening to him or, you know, letting him the fuck go, and well–Superboy fucking warned him, didn’t he. 
So he grabs every single piece of the Batmobile down to the absolute last, and then he rips it all apart all at once and drops it. 
Though once he’s done that, he just to rip apart a whole lot more. 
The Batmobile collapses every which way and all its parts and pieces hit the floor in a massive cacophony of clattering and crashing and Robin jerks in alarm, whipping his head towards the pieces of it as they scatter across the floor. Superman startles a little too, and Superboy’s still not done being fucking pissed, actually, so he just–he still wants to rip apart this whole fucking cave and everything in it and just–just rip it apart, just–just–
“Let me go, you fucking prick,” he hisses up at Superman. “You have literally never cared before and I don’t give a fuck about your opinion about who I’m fucking anyway!” 
“Superboy,” Robin interjects carefully as he glances back towards them–fucking carefully, like he thinks Superboy’s somebody who needs handled carefully, who can’t handle his own shit, the patronizing piece of–“You did describe crimes. Legally, like . . . at least a couple of those situations are crimes.” 
Of course that’s what the asshole decides to fucking speak up about, Superboy thinks as a spike of fury stabs into his gut. 
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synthetickitsune · 2 days ago
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S.Coups (SVT) | Manifestation crack | 0.7k | gn!reader warnings: dick size discussion A/N: never let me talk to @hanniedream this isn't what i thought i'd be writing today. also why did this turn out so angsty
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“What did you do?” Seungcheol’s quiet growling, his no-nonsense tone, doesn’t carry too far in the silent cafe.
“What do you mean?” you ask, sipping the drink you paid for, and slide his own cup closer to him. He’s so enraged that he almost crushes the cup with his grip.
“You know what I mean,” he snarls.
You hum and look out of the window. Perhaps you do, but you want to hear him say it loud and clear. Although maybe not that loud, you don’t need people to start turning your way. It’s revenge but it’s not part of your plan to publicly humiliate him. At least for now. So you clear your throat before he can slam his fist on the table.
“I mean it, Cheol,” you sigh and blink up at him, the picture of innocence, “Whatever do you think I’ve done?”
He sets his jaw, his fists clench and unclench. There’s a fire in his eyes that you know too well. That same fire once was the beginning of your undoing.
“Are you kidding me right now?” he looks like he’s about to hit you but you know he wouldn’t. 
“No, I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” you pout your lips only slightly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes scan the cafe but you’re sitting in a pretty secluded corner - again, a mercy he doesn’t deserve. He leans closer, gritting his teeth. His muscles bulge with the way his body gets tense. And suddenly despite everything, you find yourself drawn to him. Desiring him.
“My dick is shrinking,” he says, point-blank and without beating around the bush. You almost spit out your drink. He narrows his eyes at you.
“So I guess it’s working,” you snicker and the look in his eyes is priceless.
“You little-” 
He never gets to call you whatever he was about to call you, silenced by a curious look from a guy sitting a few tables over. There’s something very satisfying about watching Cheol withdraw back into his seat with fury still ablaze in his gaze.
“How and why?” he growls.
“Art of manifestation,” you shrug and chuckle at the confusion written all over his face, “I know, right? I guess not all of it is a scam.”
“As to why, do I really need to explain?” you quirk a brow at him. He just gives you a very straightforward nod. You roll your eyes. “You’re impossible, Cheol. You’re so annoying, walking around like you own the world. Like everyone needs to bend to you will just because you have a massive dick - oh wait, had a massive dick.”
“What?” he looks ready to pounce at you, and not in the way he usually does, “That’s it?”
“What do you mean that’s it?” you huff incredulously, “Have you ever heard yourself talking? Cheol, you’re lucky nobody’s fucking done this before.”
“You’re so petty!” he spits and buries his face in his hands.
“And you’re so infuriating. Sorry but you need to be humbled, I’m basically doing this for you,” you take another long sip of your drink and feel yourself relax. What’s he gonna do? Only you can help solve his little problem. And he looks sort of adorable being helpless like this.
“What can I do?” he finally whispers. You’d be lying if you said it doesn’t hurt just a little bit that he never spoke this softly to you before, not even in the early hours of the morning when you were both sweaty and breathing heavily after your nightly escapades. No, instead he’d be boasting about how good he made you feel. He deserves this lesson.
“Be a good person. Be nice, be kind, the usual stuff,” you look away but you feel his eyes burning holes through you anyway.
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I am nice, just not to you?” he bites back.
“Careful,” you smirk through the hint of hurt, “As you said, I’m very petty and you wouldn’t want your situation to get worse.”
You get into a silent staring contest that you end up winning. But still, somehow, despite it all, you feel like all you did today was prove his point.
You end up getting asked out on a date, as if something inside of Seungcheol broke and he accepted his fate. Not what you expected but sure, why not if he’s on his best behavior. Let’s see where this goes.
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godmadeaterribleerror · 20 hours ago
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Dreams of Love - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter
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Series Masterlist
Read on A03!
Author's Note: Made it a Hughie and Annie baby. Named it Joel because I’m hilarious and Annie would sooner eat glass than name her son Billy.
Chapter Title from She’s Got A Way by Billy Joel
Word Count: 7.5k
Summary/Warnings: Request from my love @deansbbyx ! You and Ben have to babysit. Takes place ten months post-series.
Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, Dad Ben, pre-established relationship, so much horniness (would we expect anything less?)
“Where the hell did Annie get a baby from.”
You sigh, giving Ben a flat look. “Her vagina, Benjamin. That’s where most of them pop out, you know.” 
Ben scowls, shooting you a glare that really only makes your whole body warm and soft. “Shut the fuck up, brat, you know what I meant-“
“I don’t think I did, Pretty Boy. I think you need to start explaining where you think babies come from-“
You’re cut off as Ben pulls you right to his chest, dropping his brow to yours with a smirk.
“You know damn well that I know where babies come from, Sunshine.” He drawls, and he’s really warm, and he smells so good, and his muscles are flexing around you, and his keeping his mouth just far enough away that you can’t kiss him but God you want to-
Ben-
You need something, darling? Need me to fuck you dumb right here, fill you up with my cock and remind you how fucking good we are at baby making? 
You swallow, unable to tear your gaze away from his darkened, lust-blown eyes. He’s starving for you, and you can feel it everywhere—you can’t even tell where your own thirst for him begins and his hunger for you ends—but you cannot have sex right now. There just isn’t the time, and it’s not like Ben’s going anywhere, but fuck, he’s so handsome and he’ll taste like strawberries and maple syrup from breakfast, and you can feel how hard he is, pressing against your thigh-
“MM’s going to be here soon,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of Ben’s shirt to give your fingers something to do that isn’t wrapping around Ben’s dick. “And Ryan needs to go to school. I can drive him if you-“
Ben rolls his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your brow before rising back up to his full height. “You’re not fucking driving. I’ll take Ryan, you get the Campbell baby.”
“But-“
He drawls your name, raising his brows. “You really fucking think MM is going to leave a fucking baby with me.”
“Yeah, I do.” You raise your chin slightly, holding Ben’s vaguely amused gaze. “He doesn’t hate you anymore-“
“Doesn’t matter if he still wanted to cut my fucking dick off or not, you’re the only one he’s leaving it with.”
 “It had a name, Ben.” You say, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning your chin on his chest. “And I’m sure MM would leave Joel with you if I ask him to.”
“But you’re not going to ask,” Ben says your name with a shrug, half picking you off the floor and cradling your head with one hand. “I’m bringing Ryan to school, you’re taking the baby. That’s it.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “What if I promise you a blowjob to trade?”
He snorts, the radiance in his body bursting along your ribs. I’d get that blowjob anyway. 
What if I promise breeding kink sex?
His eyes narrow. You think you’re real fucking smart.
I do. You smile at him, playing with the hair on his beard as you sway slightly in his arms. You say I am all the time. You call me clever, and beautiful, and perfect. And if you like me now, imagine how amazing I’d be when you fucked me good enough for to put a baby-
You win. Ben’s hand tightens on your waist, his eyes flash, his hunger almost explodes through his body, and it’s all the warning you get before his mouth is crashing down to yours. Your silent words are cut off with a deep growl from Ben’s chest as he walks you backwards to the kitchen counter, his hand tugging at your hair to deepen the kiss. Your lips part with a moan that Ben swallows, and you’re scratching at his back as he shoves a knee between your legs, and fuck, he’s so good-
Such a needy fucking brat. He mutters in your head, and you can only grind against him. You are fucking perfect, you’re a goddamn miracle, but that smart fucking mouth, Ben hums against your lips, starting to kiss a wet, sloppy line down your neck. It’s a fucking marvel, Sunshine. Going to fucking kill me, how goddamn beautiful you are, all fucking dumb and pretty when I touch you-
Fuck- You whine when he starts to suck on that one spot near your throat, and he chuckles against your skin. God, Ben-
Words, darling, use that smart mouth to beg-
Please, Benjamin, you ass-
You squeak as his hand pins you against his knee, and he draws back, scanning over your open, desperate expression with a wide smirk. 
“Hi, Sunshine.” He drawls, tipping your chin back with a careful hand, and you might be drooling. 
He’s so fucking handsome. It’s really not fair. This life looks painfully good on him, where all his love is still hot and bloody and focused in your body, but the resolve to hold you is just to hold you. There are no threats that you’d need protection from, but Ben’s still shielding you just a little all the time because that’s what he does. He loves and cares about you so violently you’d be worried he offers you too much, but all he’s ever asked for in return is this. Is you, already a little dazed from his hand dragging circles on the skin of your hips, your mouth hanging open as you take in his messy hair and relaxed expression. Everything in him glows when he presses his thumb on your lower lip and you moan, and when he leaves a small, almost chaste kiss on the space between your eyes the fire under your skin starts to push up, and you’re smoking, and he’s just grinning at you like a dick-
“You’re so fucking perfect, beautiful.” He mutters, and you don’t know why he’s not just fucking you. “When I get you alone again, you’re going to cum on my hands, then my face, then my cock when I fill you up. You’re going to feel me for fucking days, darling, and everyone will know that I always fuck you properly when you sit down at a meeting and fucking whine like a goddamn brat.”
You have a small, breathless speech in your head that’s mostly a plea of you are alone, right now, and it’s not possible for Ben to make you feel it for days, but God, you’d like to see him try, but you don’t get the chance to say it. You stare at Ben’s smug grin for a long second, taking steady breaths to try and regain just a little bit of control over your brain—which right now seems to only remember how to say Benjamin, please—and Ryan walks into the kitchen with his backpack and nervous, quick words.
“Ben, I lost my notebook-“ Ryan’s eyes widen at the scene before him—Ben still holding you on his knee, your whole body slack under his touch and very obvious, slightly glowing smoke rising from your skin—and he freezes in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I’ll just go wait in the car-“
“Stay here, kid.” Ben helps you down, pressing one last, gentle kiss to your brow before turning his attention to Ryan. “Car’s not started yet, and your notebook’s under the couch.”
Ryan frowns. “How did it-“
“Shoved it there last night.” Ben grunts. His voice is really deep. His arm is still around you. He smells like pine and coffee and that earthy, salty thing that’s just Ben-
“Oh.” Ryan nods slowly. “Was it- I’m-“
“Don’t fucking apologize. It wasn’t in the way, I just had to do all the damn baby proofing-“
That snaps you out of it.
“You were baby proofing?”
Ben frowns down at you, something slightly sore wrapping over his skin. “Of course I was fucking baby proofing, I’m not going to let the damn thing just fuck around the house and die-“
You let just a little bit of your own, raw and infinite love leak into Ben’s body, rising up to press a kiss right over his beard and humming against his skin. Thank you, Benjamin. That was sweet.
I am not fucking sweet-
Of course not, Pretty Boy. What was I thinking. Your smile is wide and unrestrained as you lean back, holding Ben’s face between your hands. I love you.
I love you too, Sunshine. He rolls his eyes, dragging one of your hands to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll get your notebook, Ryan. Go put on your shoes.”
“Okay.” Ryan bounces on his feet, looking between you and Ben with an open, anxious expression. “Is- Are Hughie and Annie bringing Joey here?”
“They’re on their honeymoon,” you explain, Ben scowls, and you shoot him a flat look. “Which someone is being a grumpy asshole about.”
“It’s fucking bullshit.” Ben grumbles, guiding you out of the kitchen. “We’ve been married for ten goddamn month and haven’t gone on our honeymoon. Why the hell do those pussies get to go first.”
“They’re not going first, Ben, they just actually planned their wedding instead of doing it spontaneously in a field-“
Ben rolls his eyes. “If we do that proper wedding shit, will you finally take some time off so I can fuck you on a beach?”
You flush, whacking Ben’s chest as Ryan looks around absent-mindedly, pretending not to hear. Benjamin-
The kid is used to it, Sunshine-
He shouldn’t be- 
He’s fine. I think he’s got bigger fucking problems than me loving you like you deserve-
But-
“Ryan.” Ben grunts, tucking you a little further into his side and ignoring your death glare. He’s lucky you can’t burn his face off anymore. “You got an issue with me telling her I’m going to fuck her?”
“I, um- no?” Ryan shrugs, frowning at the air. “I guess I tune it out now, just because you do it kind of a lot and I- I dunno, I just expect it. Sorry-“
“Don’t say sorry, kid. You did good.” Ben shoots you a smug look, bright, hot pride inflating in his chest. You’re going to strangle him, then make out with his stupid, handsome, cocky face. “Shoes.”
Ryan nods and wanders to the door, and Ben looks so fucking proud of himself.
Benjamin William- 
You barely get out your shared last name before Ben’s squeezing your hips, pulling you up into a long, open-mouth kiss that makes you moan loud and soft, your body molding right into his. Never should’ve told you my middle name, brat. 
Could be worse. You mumble, smiling against his lips. I could tell Butcher. 
He pulls back with narrowed eyes. You won’t.
Test me, Benjamin-
You tell Butcher, I’ll
 Ben trails off between your heads, and you can feel a wired spike in his heart when he realizes he doesn’t have any believable threats anymore. 
You’ll what? You raise your brows, giving him an overly sweet pout. Fuck me dumb? Make me beg? Throw me around until I’m a whiny, horny mess for your cock-
He slams back into you, hauling your body into his arms without even a stuttered breath and carrying you to the couch. 
Christ on a fucking cross, Ben mutters your name between your heads, lowering himself to his knees before you as he kisses you back into the cushions. You’re so fucking perfect.
His tone is entirely reverent, so sincere it might kill you, and the pure devotion and fervor of his love in your body is enough to drive you mad.
Ben- His hand trails up your thigh, and you’d be embarrassed by your loud moan if it didn’t make Ben groan into your mouth, everything in him sparking and flaring. Fuck-
Later, Sunshine. He tips your chin back slightly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth right before he pulls away. “Stay here until I get home.”
You hum, taking his hand from your cheek and twisting his wedding ring around his finger with a small smile. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
He chuckles, leaning into one last, soft kiss before rising to his feet. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, darling. Tell me when MM drops off the kid.”
Tell you on the what, Benjamin?
I’m not fucking saying it.
Please?
You give him your sweetest smile, squeezing your hand on his knee and leaning into his touch, and he groans.
Smart fucking brat. He mutters, moving his hand back to tangle in your hair and tugging slightly, just enough to make your head tip back. Tell me on the Ben’o’phone, and I’ll fuck your mouth and cunt real good when I get home.
Deal. Thank you.
Don’t. He grumbles between your heads, but even as his hand leaves yours you can feel the power of his love, the rough affection that’s settled deeply and comfortably into his chest. “You think we’ve got all the shit-“
“MM’s going to bring most of it. And,” you nod to the floor, and Ben turns with a frown. “I bought a play pen. We can keep it after. For later. When I get that promised fucking.”
You see Ben’s hands curl into fists, he stands a little taller, and fuck, you’re right at eye level with his bulge but Ryan really does need to go to school-
“I can’t believe Annie and Hughie got a fucking baby before we did.” He mutters, glaring at the play pen. “It’s a goddamn travesty-“
“Travesty.” You hum, looking up at him with a wide, teasing smile. “Big word, Pretty Boy-“
“Shut up.” 
Ben turns back to you, taking your face between big, warm hands and scanning over your features with a narrowed gaze. You can feel something wound tightly in his chest—slightly molding and almost painful—so you grab his wrists to keep him against you, and give him your widest, realest smile. The smile that’s for Ben, and Ben only.
It’s always really just Ben.
You know I fucking adore you. He says between your heads, his voice low and rough. Love you more than the goddamn universe, Sunshine, you’re my whole goddamn life. You know that.
I think you’ve mentioned it. You hum, leaning into his touch. And I love you too, you massive cunt, so say what the fuck you mean.
Ben lets out a dry snort as you drop your voice into a mocking impression of him on those last words, shaking his head slightly. Christ, darling. You’re fucking-
Perfect, I’m aware. Please, Ben-
You don’t need to ever do anything you fucking hate with me. He grunts, his body suddenly made only of fervorish, protective stone. I got you and Ryan, and that can be my world for the rest of my goddamn life, and I’d be good. If that caped fucking pussy knocked the idea of a baby out of your head forever, I’m not going to-
Ben. You cut him off with soft but firm words, holding his gaze. We don’t lie to each other.
Of course we fucking don’t-
So when I say that one day soon, I want to do this, you nod to the play pen. With you, believe me. Please.
His jaw twitches, and the wrathful care in his body doesn’t vanish, but it never does. It only moves back peacefully into your bones as Ben slowly nods. You’re sure.
Positive. Go bring Ryan to school before I do.
Ben rolls his eyes, leans down to kiss the top of your head, and half-stomps out the door.
He’ll be back soon. And—though he’ll never get you to say it aloud—you’ll wait right here until he does. Where everything still smells like pine, and you’re molded into the couch right where Ben put you, and you can smile at the play pen like a dumbass until the doorbell rings. 
You know it MM before you open it, because Ben just walks in wherever he wants—including into offices he definitely should not be walking into and meetings you’re supposed to be focusing on—and everyone in the neighborhood seems to know that’s Soldier Boy and the Anomaly’s house, so after the Homeowners Association incident, nobody really bothers you that much. 
It would be lonely if you didn’t already have a Ben, a Ryan, a Butcher—friend was too generous for the asshole, but he was unfortunately an indisputable part of your life—and friends.
Because when you open the door, it is MM on the other side, and he looks tire and pissed but still happy to see you. You can feel it—during your brief, tight hug—that there’s a heavy exhaustion under his skin and over his muscles, but there’s nothing but relieved affection for you to be here. 
“This kid,” MM mutters as you pull apart. “Has fucking lungs.”
You smile, following him out to the still-running car. “I know, I’ve heard them. Annie told me to buy Ryan earplugs.”
“Smart.” MM leans into the car door, pulling out the car seat and probably saying more things, but you don’t really hear them because that’s a baby. A baby baby. A barely popped, wispy haired baby that looks so much like a shrunken down version of Hughie it’s a little disturbing.
And you’ve met him before. You were there when Annie had her pre-mature birth, doing what Ben had called more work than the damn nurses and stopping Annie’s bleeding with a press of your hand to her legs a brief rush of pain between your thighs. 
MM had told you Ben had doubled over with a roar in the lobby, and you’d seen the evidence of it when you’d rejoined him and there was a large hole in the wall. But Annie had been okay, Hughie had given you a tight hug that could’ve left a bruise if that was something your body could do, and the baby had been healthy. 
You hadn’t wanted to hold him, nerves building in your throat about what feeling the emotions of a baby could even do. Annie had told you that it would be fine, and half-shoved Joey into your arms.
And now—just like then—you can feel nothing but soft, humming peace from tiny Joel Campbell in your arms. There’s no bloodied pain or freezing fear, nothing rotten in his chest or throat or head. He’s just a little fuzzy because you’re not Annie, but it’s a brief distress that fades when you start to hum and the whole world grows perfectly warm.
They’re here. Your words are soft down your connection to Ben, and he flares slightly in your chest.
Good. Ryan’s off, I’ll be back soon. Don’t fucking move.
You smile to yourself, and MM must realize that you’ve moved yourself into a trance, because he doesn’t try to talk to you until you’re settled back inside with Joey carefully in your arms, and all of Annie’s baby supplies are piled near the door.
“You think your old motherfucker is ready for this?”
You snort. Ben’s so ready you’re probably going to spend the next month after this trying to pry him off of you. “He is. He baby-proofed the house.”
MM grunts, scanning around the living room. “I’m guessing the asshole wants one?”
You might be smiling like an idiot. “You have no idea.”
“I think I can live with that.” MM mutters, giving you an odd look. “And- If I’m out of line tell me to shut it and I will, but can you even do that?”
You sigh, trailing one finger softly over Joey’s cheek. There’s something in that silent, happy hum you feel from him that really seems like Annie.
You wonder if your baby would look like Ben and feel like you, or look like you and feel like Ben. 
“I can if I want.” You say, shaking your head at MM’s look of confusion. “Don’t ask.”
He raises his hands in agreement, nodding to Joey in your arms. “Do you? Want one?”
“I do.” You whisper. “I always did, before, and then Home-“ You swallow. You still don’t like saying his name. He doesn’t deserve for his name to be said, not where Joey can hear it. “Then he, he did everything, and it didn’t seem like a thing I could ever do. But now...”
You trail off, and MM nods.
“What changed?”
You look up with a soft smile. “Do you really want me to say it?”
He sighs, running a hand over his face. “That old asshole must have a fucking genie who owes him one or something.”
You only hum, because it’s not really useful to explain that Ben doesn’t need a genie. He’s just Ben, and he’s everything, and you love him. “Maybe. I think he’s going to be amazing at this.”
“Of course you do.” MM mutters. “Where the hell is he?”
“Dropping Ryan at school.” You say, lowering your voice to whisper to Joey. “He’s bringing us back chocolate.”
“How the hell do you know-“
“He always brings me back something. And he’s that way,” you wave a vague hand over your shoulder, where you can sense Ben moving around miles away. “So he’s getting chocolate.”
When you look up, MM’s gaping slightly. “He always brings you something?”
“Of course he does. He thinks it’s an apology for leaving me.”
“Leaving- Motherfucker.” MM sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing you two idiots can’t die without each other. You’re already so goddamn annoying.”
You can’t disagree with that. Not when—a few hours after MM leaves—Ben pushes through the door with a box of those fancy fucking chocolates you love, Sunshine, and lowers to his knees before you, staring at Joey in your arms.
“Hughie makes a tiny fucking baby.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Don’t bully the infant, Ben-“
“I’m not bullying him, I’m bullying his father. Hughie’s a fucking adult, he’ll live.” Ben rises up to kiss your brow. “You look real damn good with a baby in your arms, darling.”
You smile at him, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. Keep it in your pants, old man.
For the damn baby I will, but I promised you a proper fucking, Ben drawls your name between your heads, shooting you a wink. Going to have you begging for my cum in your mouth, on your tits, in that pretty fucking pussy-
Benjamin. You give him a stern look, even as the deep sound of his voice in your mind, the sight of him grinning at you, and the hunger in his body settle deep in your stomach. Not when I’m actively holding the child.
He rolls his eyes, but drops at your side on the couch and kisses your temple. Fine.
Thank you. You lean your head on Ben’s shoulder, letting him tuck you against his side, his hand tracing slow patterns on your arm as you start to hum, soothing Joey fully to sleep.
And you could’ve stayed like this for a lifetime. Ben’s content—you can feel it, feel how deeply and easily settled he is at your side—this is so simply peaceful, and you have no desire to disturb the static, colorful feeling you get from Joey, so you could’ve died here.
But Joey shits his pants, because that’s what babies do.
And You really don’t want to move. 
MM left some things by the door, can you please-
You don’t need to finish the sentence before Ben’s moving, marching to the hall to grab the diapers and pushing the coffee table to your knees when he returns. You change Joey there—it’s a flat surface, you cleaned it that morning, and Ben had laid out a towel—before settling back onto the couch, and that’s most of the day. Joey’s hungry, Ben grabs the bottle and you feed him. Joey’s never cold—you and Ben are walking furnaces—but he seems a little uncomfortable, so Ben grabs a blanket Annie left and you swaddle. Joey shits himself again, and Ben marches upstairs to run a sink bath.
He hangs over your shoulder every second. And there are no grumbled suggestions or thoughts about Joey, only normal conversations about work and TV and Ryan and dinner. Nothing feels different, and the solid, pious care and love you feel from Ben is no stronger than normal. It’s aimed right at your heart and golden and warm in your body, but that’s just Ben. That’s how he loves you. 
The only change is something softer—lining over his head and lungs—that glows when you catch him glancing at Joey in your arms. When you settle back on the couch with a sleepy, clean baby, and Ben pulls you half into his lap, resting his chin on the top of your head. You waste the afternoon like this. Watching TV with Ben everywhere around you, Joey asleep in your arms and nothing really that worrying in the world.
When your phone rings, you almost don’t want to answer it. But it’s Butcher, and if you ignore him he’ll come to your house, so you sigh and pick up the call.
“Butcher,” you whisper, and Ben’s arms tighten around your body. “Please tell me this is important.”
“You wound me.” Butcher’s voice is filled with mock offense through the speaker as he says your name. “I ain’t ever bothered you for no reason-“
“One time you called me to say Ben lost his pen.”
“And he was tearin’ up the bloody office, so I needed you to work your fuckin’ sex magic on the Gov before he hurt ‘imself. Always got a reason, love, you should well fuckin’ know that.”
I can’t hurt myself. Ben grumbles in your ear, obviously eavesdropping. Only person who can hurt me is you-
Romantic, my love. Shut up. “Butcher, if this is a work thing you have to call MM, Ben and I both have the day off-“
“‘Fraid MM ain’t able to help with this one, love. I got Secretary Campbell ‘ere, and he ain’t leavin’ until he speaks to Mr. and Mrs. American Dream.”
“Stop calling us that, it doesn’t even make sense.” You sigh, glancing at Joey in your arms. “What does he want?”
Apparently, Singer’s Defense Secretary is trying to get you and Ben to donate some DNA again. And you’d send Ben to deal with him, but you’re pretty sure that would end with a dead Campbell and another year half on the lam for you. So you sigh, tell Butcher you’ll be there soon, and hang up.
Ben mutters your name, keeping you steady in his lap. “I can fucking handle this-“
“No, Ben, it’s okay.” You lean back on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile. “You watch Joey, and I’ll pick up Ryan on my way back.”
“You shouldn’t fucking drive-“
“I’ll go slow. And be careful-“
Ben scoffs. “You’re never fucking careful-“
“Yes, I am. I will be. Just take Joey-“
“No, I’ll fucking deal with Singer’s lapdog, and you’ll keep the baby-“
“Benjamin.” You snap, and he shuts his mouth with a glower. There’s something sore over his whole body, but it’s rooted in his hands. Itching and heavy and tense, tight around his throat-
You frown, tilting your head at him, and softening your voice between your heads.
Are you okay?
I-
And remember I can feel you, Ben. You raise your brows, shifting in his lap to fully face him. Are you worried about the baby?
I’m not fucking worried, he grunts your name, hands tightening on your body. I don’t want to you leave, Sunshine, is that a goddamn crime-
No. You kiss him, quick and sweet, and rise from his hold. But I do have to go. I’ll put Joey in the travel crib, and you can Ben’o’phone me if you need help.
Or you could fucking stay-
You’ll be fine, my love. I’ll be back soon.
——————
Ben wasn’t watching TV. It was on, in the background, but he couldn’t goddamn focus on it. 
There was a fucking baby in the room. It wasn’t bigger than his forearm, it kept making small baby sounds, and if Ben looked away from the crib for one goddamn second he was pretty fucking certain something would go wrong. The ceiling would fall and Ben wouldn’t be quick enough to throw his body over it. He would be quick enough, but he wouldn’t be careful and he’d crush the baby. The baby would shit, and he’d have to change the diaper. It would start throwing lightning bolts like its mother, and Ben would have to figure out what the fuck to do. It would be hungry, and Ben didn’t have tits. 
The ceiling would not fall. This whole house had been supe-proofed, because all of them still had nightmares that set off their powers, when Ryan and Ben it could—according to Her—cause permanent structural damage, and Ben needed to be able to fuck Her however he pleased without worrying about everything breaking around them.
Ben would not crush the baby. He wasn’t some weak fucking pussy who couldn’t control his strength after damn near 80 years.
If the baby took another shit, Ben could change a diaper. He wouldn’t fucking like it, but it was just shit and piss. He’d been covered in guts and blood and brains, shit and piss was nothing. Even if that thing took some of the biggest shits Ben had seen in his very long life.
According to Her and Frenchie, mainstreamed V wasn’t hereditary. It didn’t fundamentally change the users DNA or some shit, so Annie and Hughie’s baby would always just be a normal person. Ben wasn’t really sure, because somewhere in the conversation someone had said what if they had a baby and pointed to Her and Ben, and he’d gotten distracted. 
If it got hungry, She’d shown Ben how formula worked, and he’d figure it out. He’d do whatever the hell he needed to in order to prove to Her that they could have a baby. If they had a baby, Ben would fucking kill it.
Not the baby. He’d kill taking care of a baby. He’d feed and change and tend to it—just like he did with Her and Ryan—and it would be fucking disgusting and boring as shit, but he’d goddamn do it if he could have a baby. 
And he didn’t know exactly what the hell had changed in forty years that men were expected to change diapers, but he’d change a million diapers for Her. He’d throw himself into the Sun and bury himself alive for Her. He’d watch something called How to Train You Dragon for Her. He’d fucking cook for Her—she sure as hell couldn’t do it herself, and Ben would be damned if he let his wife starve—and he’d read a fucking book just to make Her smile. 
Changing a diaper—if that made Her happy as well—was fucking nothing.
So when Joey started wailing—about twenty minutes after She’d left—Ben was fucking ready. He’d been studying all the shit She’d been doing, and this kid wasn’t going to know what the fuck hit him. Annie and Hughie would get him back in better condition, and Ben would be a goddamn hero.
But the baby didn’t want food. And its diaper was clean. 
The only thing that seemed to make it stop was when Ben held it. Cradled it in his arms and rocked it back and forth, sitting back on the couch because every time he tried to put the little fucker down, it would start screaming again. 
Ben didn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to a real baby. He’d seen this one in the hospital after Annie popped it, and a few times after, but he’d never really held it. Annie had offered once, and he’d taken it, but it hadn’t been like this. Where Joey was curled into Ben’s chest and Annie wasn’t bouncing on her feet to take it back. 
This was peaceful. Quiet. The TV humming in the background and Ben just fucking holding a baby. A baby that was happy to be in his arms, and didn’t fit perfectly because it wasn’t Ben’s baby, but was still a damn baby.
Happy. With him holding it.
Something became clear in his head. It had never been fogged or covered, but it was sharp now. Right in reach and touchable, more than just a fantasy or daydream. 
Ben fucking wanted this. And he could really fucking have it. He’d seen Her look at Joey, and She’d sworn she’d want this as well. She’d said She’d want it with Ben.
And he could see it. Ben could almost physically fucking see a baby that had Her eyes and hair and whole perfect face, and would grab Ben’s nose and fucking break it. Any kid She and Ben had would be a supe—as far as Ben understood it—and they would be the strongest one yet. Ryan would help them learn to control the strength, and he’d never fucking worry about being loved less, because as far as the baby would know, Ryan would be their damn brother.
It would be smart like Her and Ryan. The kid would be talking in three months—or something, Ben didn’t know when babies usually started talking—and do all the fucking school shit, then chose to do good things because they would be Her kid, and everything She did and touched became fucking good.
And She’d be the best goddamn mother. She already was, with Ryan, and this would just be more. More annoying parents for Her to threaten, another person for Her to teach shit to, and another piece of evidence for Her to have that Ben couldn’t love Her more if he tried. Another way for Ben to show Her that She, Ryan, and now the baby were the only things in the whole damn universe that mattered.
He could see it. Her padding around the house in Ben’s shirt, holding their baby in one arm and a phone in the other. Hissing incredibly graphic threats at a congressman while smiling at the baby, sometimes dropping Her voice to coo to the kid when She was between calls.
“You know.” She said, swaying slightly in place as she mumbled to the child. Their child. That was Ben’s fucking child. “If that asshole doesn’t listen to Mommy, she’s going to let Daddy yell at them. And Daddy can be scary.”
Ben frowned, but he couldn’t quite move or speak, She didn’t see him there, and when She kept talking any protests of him being ‘scary’ vanished into the air.
“I know that crazy to you, because Daddy isn’t scary.” She set Her phone down on the counter, devoting Her entire attention to the infant in her arms. “He’s just big and grumpy. Like an ancient teddy bear.”
The kid made a soft, babbling sound, and Ben really wanted to hear it again. Especially as a tiny fist shot up, wrapped around Her finger, and she smiled as it babbled again.
“You’re right, he can be a bit of an asshole. Isn’t that right, my love?” 
Ben could suddenly move, and he was walking forwards. Moving to Her side and pressing a kiss to Her brow. “Smart fucking mouth, brat.”
“You love it.” She hummed, leaning into him as She kept speaking to the baby. “He loves it.”
Ben did love it. He loved how fucking happy She was, how easy this felt, and how—when Ryan called from upstairs for homework help—She passed the baby into Ben’s arms without a thought and walked away. 
And that was their fucking kid. And it had sharp eyes that were scanning over Ben’s face a little hazily, realizing that Ben wasn’t Her, and then almost squealing as it realized that he was Ben.
It reached up for him, and fucking Christ, the thing was happy to see him. It was making cute fucking sounds and squeezing his finger, and not a single fucking pussy would ever be allowed to hurt it. Ben would do whatever the hell it took to keep the kid this peaceful, to make it always this happy to see him, to make it so that She and Ryan would have the family they deserved, and Ben could just fucking love them for the rest of goddamn time-
“Ben. Wake up.” A gentle, perfect hand trailed over his face, and he’d fallen asleep. 
He blinked his eyes open to find Her standing between his knees above him, and soft smile playing on Her lips.
“Good dream?”
Ben caught Her hand in his own, pressing a kiss to Her knuckles as he blinked away a little more sleep. “You don’t have a fucking clue.”
She hummed, glancing at Joey, still in his arms. “I think he likes you.”
“He likes that I’m warm-“
“The blanket was warm.” She shrugs. “He likes you.”
Ben grunted. He wouldn’t win this argument, and he knew better than to try. “Where’s Ryan?”
“In his room.” She said, dropping at Ben’s side and smiling at Joey. “We’ve been home for a few hours.”
“A few- You’ve been home hours-“
“Voice down, Benjamin.” She mumbled, leaning Her head against his arm. “And you both looked peaceful. I liked it.”
Ben smirked. Were you watching me sleep, Sunshine-
Yes, I was. And you watch me sleep all the fucking time, Pretty Boy, so shut it.
He chuckled, kissing the side of Her head, and they stayed there until Ryan shuffled down the stairs, stopping behind the couch and staring at Joey in Ben’s arms.
“He’s really small.” Ryan whispered, and Ben coughed to cover his laugh.
“He’s a baby, Ry.” She said, kicking Ben’s shin as She smiled up at Ryan. “We were all that small once.”
“I was never this small.” Ben muttered. “I was a big fucking baby, and you probably were as well, kid.”
Ryan’s eyes widened, and She scoffed.
“How big were you, Benjamin.” She narrowed Her eyes. And don’t say you’re still big now.
Don’t need to say it, Sunshine, you know better than damn anyone that I’m big. Ben winked at Her, smirking at her pretty flush as he continued.  “I don’t fucking remember exactly, brat, it was a hundred goddamn years ago-“
She snorted. “So you might have been this tiny-“
“I fucking wasn’t-“
“You could’ve been.” She stuck Her tongue out at him, light dancing in Her eyes. “We’ll never know.”
Ben rolled his eyes, brat, and pulled Her into a long, slow kiss with his free hand, going until She was sighing into his mouth and slumping over his body-
She pushed off Ben’s chest, and something was radiant and zealous in his chest when She leaned back to look at Ryan, and there was an almost drunken smile on Her face.
“Do you need help with more homework-“
“No,” Ryan shook his head, glancing back to Joey. “I- I’m just hungry, but if you’re busy-“
Ben’s brow furrowed. “We look fucking busy, kid?”
“Uh, no?”
“Then it’s dinner.” Ben grunted Her name. “You want ravioli.”
She gave him a wide, toothy smile, Her voice oddly soft. “Yes, please.”
“Ryan-“
“That sounds good.” Ryan nodded slowly, taking a nervous step back. “I- I’ll go wait in my room- And-“
Ben frowned. “You finished your homework?”
Ryan nodded again, and Ben moved to his feet with Joey still carefully in his arms. 
“Stay in here, kid. It’ll be easier to get you.”
“No- I- It’s okay-“
“Ryan?” She twisted fully in Her seat, a gentle frown on Her face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I just- I don’t-“ Ryan swallowed, bowing his head slightly. “Joey looks really fragile. I don’t- What if I break him?”
She tensed at Ben’s side, and Ben could fucking feel Her aching distress. Feel the presence of Her around his head tightening and spinning, see the sadness all over Her pretty face—almost perfectly matching Ryan’s—and Ben needed to fucking fix this.
“Hold the baby.” 
Ben walked around the couch to put Joey into Ryan’s arms, and the kid just fucking gaped at him.
“But- But I could-“
“You won’t.” Ben snapped, and Ryan shook his head.
“He’s so small, Ben.” He whispered. “And I- I could hurt him.”
“When was the last time you broke something.”
Ryan blinked at him. “What?”
“The last thing you broke on accident, kid.” Ben raised his brows. “When did you break it.”
“I-“ Ryan glanced at Her, but she was just leaning over the back of the couch, tapping Her fingers on the pillows as she watched. “I don’t remember-“
“November.” Ben grunted. “You freaked out during a team dinner and snapped Butcher’s table in half. You’ve had a fuck ton of freak-outs since then, holding shit a lot more delicate than a table, and not a single damn thing has broken. Hold the baby.”
Ryan still didn’t move, only staring between Ben and Joey, and Ben let out a long breath.
“Ryan, do you really fucking think I’d hand you a damn baby if I thought you’d hurt it.”
“N- No-“
“You trust me, kid?”
Ryan’s eyes widened. “Of course I do-“
“Take the fucking baby.”
Ryan finally got it, and took Joey from Ben’s arms with slow, careful hands.
Nothing exploded. The sky didn’t fall. 
And Ryan smiled, his voice filled with awe. “He looks like Hughie.”
Ben smirked. “He really fucking does. Poor kid.”
She frowned from the couch. “Benjamin-“
“Sunshine.” Ben mocked Her tone as he bent down, picking Her up with a grin and laughing when she squeaked. “You’re hungry, beautiful.”
She wrinkled Her nose at him, whacking his chest. “Don’t fucking do that, you asshole-“
I didn’t do a fucking thing. Ben drawled Her name between their heads, his eyes never leaving Her’s as he moved them out of the room. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us, kid.”
“Okay!” Ryan called after them. “I’ll stay with Joey!”
All the mock anger in Her eyes dissolved in a second, Ben leaned down to kiss Her—long and sloppy and heavy—as he set Her on the counter, and when he pulled away, Her smile was fucking perfect.
She was hanging off of Ben’s arm the entire time he made dinner, smiling at Ben like he’d handed Her the fucking moon when it was only damn pasta.
What-
I love you, Benjamin. She whispered between their minds. So much.
Ben kissed Her brow, tracing his thumb over Her cheekbone. Love you too, Sunshine.
You’re really good at this. With Ryan and Joey.
He shrugged. I’ll be even fucking better with Ryan and our kid.
And that was the damn truth. Because Ben could finish dinner and help Her serve, and he could eat around the table with Her and Ryan, but when the baby cried it wasn’t his baby. And there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with Joey—he was adorable, seemed alright for a baby, and Ben would never fucking tell Her, but while She’d been gone Joey had been chewing toothlessly on Ben’s finger and it had been the cutest thing he’d seen in his fucking life—but Ben wanted the kid to be theirs. 
He wanted to set up the TV while She and Ryan cleared the plates, let Ryan chose what they were watching for family movie, and have Her sitting on Ben’s lap with their kid in Her arms. Ben wanted to lean over Her shoulder and see sharp eyes blinking up at him, to hear the baby make a bubbly little noise and for it to sound like Her voice.
He wanted Ryan to help put his sibling to bed before shuffling off to his own room, and he wanted to be standing here with Her over the crib—wrapping his arms around Her stomach and swaying back and forth in the dark—as they looked at their baby.
Joey looked so fucking peaceful in there, and Ben could see it again. A future where She’d be just like this, and the baby was really fucking theirs. It’s in a sturdier, bomb-proof crib built by Frenchie, and reaching for Her—because who fucking wouldn’t—and when it made a noise, Ben’s whole fucking world would get a little bigger.
I want one. Ben muttered between their heads, pressing a kiss to the side of Her head, and She hummed.
I know, my love. She smiled up at him, and Ben was going to fucking explode. In the dim light—with sleepy eyes and raw fucking love written all over Her perfect features—She’s was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I’m sure I can find one for you.
End Note: Finally gave Ben a middle name. I don’t care what kripke and any future spinoffs say. That’s his middle name now, because it’s the funniest possible option.
If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3
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Taglist
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mirangel · 2 days ago
Note
You know how tighnari goes into heat right? Can you imagine if male reader is actually teasing him saying, 'oh my~ dude can't even stop being horny lmao!' or 'aww what a cute fox being horny, can imagine you begging on the ground!' and just making fun of his heat jokingly
And then he got enough of it, so when his heat came. He just pushes male reader to the ground and shows him who's the one is going to turn into a mess
Anyway this is like 8. In the morning and weirdly enough, I am curious to see mad and Dom tighnari
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tighnari nsfw drabble 11
cw: amab!reader, bratty reader, tighnari’s in heat
nsfw content below, dni if uncomfortable
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aren’t you mischievous, poking fun at a clearly suffering man! he’s humiliated by your incessant teasing, burying his face into his hands. you glide your hands over his tail, his ears, and you’re even so cruel enough to lightly tug at them. he tries to swat your hands away with an uncharacteristically strained smile. he can’t stand this. what man could? but patience is a virtue, and he’s sure to take his revenge once the perfect moment arrives.
yet as you’re laid underneath him with your clothes almost ripped to shreds by his near inhuman claws, you can’t help but tease him. you coo at how cute he looks when he’s irritated, how he must be so desperate to fuck you. well fuck you he did, making sure to dig his nails a little deeper into your hips.
“you’re a lot more bearable to listen to like this.” tighnari scowled, his ears flattened against his head. “my ears are sensitive, i’ve told you many times.” he wants to be gentle to you, he knows he should. he salivates just looking at your weeping cock, and it takes everything for him to not stop fucking you and to suck you dry instead. but every man has his limits, and he will not make exceptions.
how many years late am i? far enough tbh
 i hope to get back on track with writing!! i am a little rusty to say the least, not to mention i’m not totally familiar with tighnari. i apologize if this is REALLY ooc!!!
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daddyissuesbecauseofhotch · 20 hours ago
Text
Daddy issues || #3
{masterlist}
There’s a knock on your door late in the morning, just as you are sipping the second mug of coffee of the day. A sigh escapes your lips as you close your laptop, not feeling like talking to anyone right now, but knowing full well it would be rude to pretend you’re not at home, especially since the music you’ve been listening to can probably be heard from outside.
You have a deadline tomorrow, and the goddamn wireframe is not done yet, there’s something that’s missing, you know that. Some results you needed for this only arrived late last night, and your boss didn’t give you much time to work on it. Your teammate promised to take a look at it tomorrow morning, so it had to be done and sent today.
But when you open the door, there’s no one in the hallway, not a single soul. And then you look down momentarily to find an envelope on the doormat with your name written on it. Strange, who would leave a handwritten note these days? In the end, you just shrug and pick it up before heading back inside.
“Dinner at six at our place, don’t be late. Jack wants to get to know you, and maybe we could watch a movie together. He also wants you to know there will be enough popcorn for all of us,” it says, and it’s signed by Aaron. But then your eyes move lower to find a postscript. “Okay, that’s all Jack could see, here’s the thing. I also want to get to know you, preferably after I put Jack to bed. There are topics I’d rather not discuss in front of him. And wear my hoodie, I’m begging you. Anyway, save my number just in case.”
Heat rises to your cheek when you finish the letter, and you automatically reach for your phone to save the number he included at the end. It’s ridiculous, really, but you can’t stop yourself. This man has you in a chokehold, even if you’ve only exchanged like a total of five sentences so far. Maybe you would say no under different circumstances, but this time it’s a cute little boy who insists on having you over, who are you to decline?
You return to the wireframe, but five minutes later your gaze shifts to the phone next to your laptop. You should send a text to him and his son to thank them for the invitation. Just one text, that’s all. It would be nothing more but a friendly gesture, a simple text from a neighbor. With a sigh, you pick up the device and lean back in the swivel chair.
You: Thank you for the invitation.
You: I’m your neighbor, by the way.
Aaron: I’m glad you got the letter. Does this mean you’ll come over?
You: Jack mentioned popcorn, how could I say no that?
Aaron: And what about me?
You: Haven’t decided yet.
Aaron: You’re such a tease.
Aaron: Will you wear my hoodie as I asked?
You: I’m thinking about wearing that with no pants under it, it’s almost as long as some of my dresses.
Aaron: Sweetheart, there will be an underage kid in the apartment.
Sweetheart? God, he doesn’t waste his time. Your stomach does a flip upon reading the pet name, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile like an idiot. He’s an outrageous flirt. You’re fucked. That’s it.
You: Fine, I’ll wear yoga pants.
Aaron: Perfect.
Aaron: But I won’t complain if you take it off after Jack goes to bed.
You: Oh, you want to see me naked?
Aaron: I was only talking about the yoga pants, but if you insist, who am I to say no?
You: You’re unbelievable.
You: Alright, stop disturbing me, I have a deadline at work. See you tonight.
Aaron: Can’t wait.
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xoxoavenger · 1 day ago
Text
Heat of the Moment
pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
summary: Sam's stuck in a time loop, watching not only Dean die but also Y/N's reaction to it. Every. Single. Day. (Mystery Spot Rewrite)
word count: 11227 (this took literally almost 6 hours just to write I thought it could be done for Groundhog Day but holy fuck)
warnings: major character death (lol), cannon typical gore, time loop, not proofread bc I finished this four hours before I have to wake up
main masterlist
//
Day 1
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"Got your gun?" Y/N asks when they're about to walk through the door. Dean makes a face and turns right back around, digging through his bag.
"He'd forget his head if you weren't here." Sam says under his breath, but Dean still hears it. He grabs one of Y/N's bras and holds it up, causing her eyes to widen.
"I think Sammy accidentally put his clothes in our bag, sweetheart." He smiles at the two of them, who are both giving him bitch faces for different reasons. "Ha!" He laughs, grabbing his gun and dropping the bra.
"Let's go, douchebag." Y/N rolls her eyes as she lets him go through the door first, smacking his ass and grinning as he flinches.
"I wasn't kidding earlier. I will kill myself." Sam threatens, but when Y/N looks up he has a small smile on his face.
"Go get breakfast, you mammoth-man." She tells him as she locks the door. He smiles, turning to follow his brother. Y/N isn't far behind, jogging to catch up to Dean and grab his hand.
They walk into the diner, sitting in a small booth that they barely fit in but Dean insists (they all know it's so he can sit as close as possible to Y/N).
"Why do you have to make up an excuse? You share a bed with her because she's your goddamn girlfriend. I think you can handle sitting two feet away at the breakfast bar." Sam argues.
"You're on the other side anyway, Sam. You don't have to complain." She tells him as she looks up at the menu. Sam rolls his eyes, and Y/N takes a deep breath. She loves the brothers, she really does, but they drive her crazy sometimes.
"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.
"Do you even know what that is?" Sam asks, and Dean doesn't have a good answer to this. Luckily, their waitress comes up to greet them, and Y/N smiles up at her.
"Are you three ready?" She asks with a smile. She's an older lady, with dark, short hair curled in an oldies style to match the bright yellow uniform.
"Yes! I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.
"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.
"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.
"I'll just have coffee, then." The waitress jots it down, and they turn to Sam, who orders his coffee and pancakes. "You got it." The waitress says, and leaves them be. While the boys start to argue about Bela, Y/N looks around the diner. It seems like just a normal, old-fashioned diner, but something in her gut is telling her that this place isn't what it seems.
"Where the laws of physics have no meaning?" Dean asks, reading off the pamphlet Sam handed over. Y/N focuses back in, seeing 'Mystery Spot' on the front.
"This town has a mystery spot?" Y/N asks, grabbing the pamphlet from Dean. Sam shrugs, the boys looking up as the waitress comes back with their coffees. She spills the hot sauce, which ends up getting on Dean because of how far out in the booth he is. Sam can't help his small smile, and Y/N can already feel a headache coming on from this day.
After breakfast, the three walk through town, Y/N looking at the Mystery Spot pamphlet.
"Sweetheart, you're wasting your time. Places like this are just tourist traps." Dean says, gently grabbing the pamphlet from her hands. She frowns, snatching it back.
"There are plenty of places in the world that have strange occurrences that aren't tourist traps." She argues, looking over at Sam for some help.
"There's the Bermuda Triangle, The Oregon Vortex. This could be one of them." Sam defends, and Dean rolls his eyes.
"The Broward County Mystery Spot?" He asks as if it's the stupidest suggestion he's ever heard of.
"It could be? How would you know if you haven't even gone there?" Y/N asks, and Dean takes the pamphlet once more.
"Alright, let's say I believe this. What's the lore?" He's looking down at the pamphlet, and Y/N's looking over at Sam, so neither of them see the blonde who walks right into Dean.
"Excuse me." She says, but Y/N's already turning around. She's used to people hitting on Dean - she's not blind, of course she knows her boyfriend is attractive. But it doesn't make her happy, and usually Dean doesn't do much to stop it before it's too late.
"Hey!" She yells, but Dean's grabbing her arm before she can march over to the blonde chick and ask if she was born yesterday, because she clearly doesn't know how to walk.
"Come on," Dean says quietly, which enrages Y/N even more.
"Seriously?" She asks, talking her hand from Dean's arm. They all start walking again, Sam looking ahead to make sure no one is about to witness the nuclear fight that's about to occur.
"Sweetheart, she ran into me on accident. We don't need to start a fight over that." Dean tries to calm her down, but Y/N isn't having it.
"That's the thing, Dean. You never even stop it. I'm always the one that has to say something." Y/N isn't even sure why they're having this fight right here, right now, but she doesn't want to have to keep it in anymore.
"Does it really matter? You and I both know that I'm yours. I thought you trusted me enough to know I wouldn't just do that." Dean seems actually hurt, which makes Y/N even more mad.
"You clearly don't understand." She huffs, fighting the urge to walk ahead of the bothers. Instead, she looks over the Sam. "So, what's the lore?" She asks, as if they didn't just have a fight.
"Uh," Sam scrambles to recover. "They say these places can bend space and time, sending victims anywhere, or when, I guess."
"That sounds like X-Files." Dean grumbles, clearly still not over the fight. Y/N rolls her eyes.
"Our life is basically X-Files." She argues as they walk past two guys struggling to get a piano through a door. They all stare for a moment, then get back to the conversation.
"Alright, look. I'm not saying that's what's really happening. But if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something." Sam tells them, and Y/N nods.
"Alright, alright. We'll go tonight, after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look." Dean agrees, and Y/N nods.
"Great, see you tonight then." She makes to turn left when the brothers turn right to go back to the hotel.
"Where are you goin'?" Dean asks, pausing just before he crosses the street.
"I need some space. I'll meet you there an hour after close, promise." She says, then walks away. Sam turns to Dean, who's frowning as he watches his girlfriend walk away.
"Dude, you've got to learn how to apologize." Sam says with a sigh, starting to cross the street.
"Shut up!"
~
Y/N's waiting at the Mystery Spot an hour after close, like she promised. The boys nod to her, and Dean hands her a flashlight before they walk in. There's tons of wacky rooms, but they don't find anything interesting.
"Wow. Uncanny." Dean says after they walk through a green and black spiral hallway and into a room with furniture on the ceiling. Sam's scanning for EMF, and Y/N's looking around for anything other than these random attractions that only give her the spooks because of the dark.
"Find anything?" She asks Sam.
"No." The younger brother answers. She keeps looking around, but she has no idea what the hell they're even trying to find in this place. She's crouched down, looking underneath things just to satisfy Sam at this point.
"Do you have any idea what you're looking for?" Dean asks, seemingly giving up even pretending to check the attractions.
"Uh, yeah." Sam says unconvincingly.
"Don't lie, Sammy." Y/N sighs as she stands, looking over at the boys.
"No, I don't." Sam amends, and Dean shakes his head. The two haven't talked since that morning, when they fought, but Y/N knows that by tonight it'll all be find. They just needed some time.
"What the hell are you doing here?" A man rasps quickly from behind them. Y/N gasps as her heart tries to escape her throat, the two boys pulling their guns quickly. She reaches into her waistband before she remembers that she left her's at the hotel that mooring, thinking she was going to go back. Shit.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. We can explain." Dean says, seeing the man has a gun. He looks over at Y/N, who pulls her lips in when he realizes she doesn't have a gun.
"You robbing me?" The man asks, swinging his gun to Sam.
"Nobody's robbing you," Y/N tries, the gun swinging to her.
"Calm down!" Dean shouts, trying to get the gun back on him. He has his hands up, and Y/N can tell he's a little more worried because she doesn't have her gun. God, she's so stupid.
"Don't move. Don't move!" The man yells, but Dean continues to move, keeping the gun on him.
"I'm just putting the gun down." Dean explains, but the man is firing the gun, and Y/N screams as she watches the bullet hit Dean's chest. He falls backward, and she rushes to him and drops to her knees, forgetting all about the gun.
"Dean!" She shrieks, picking his torso off the ground and putting it in her lap. He's struggling to breathe, his eyes not even seeing her.
"Call 9-1-1!" Sam tells the man, rushing to Dean's other side.
"I-I didn't mean to-"
"Do it!" Y/N screams at the same time Sam yells "Now!"
"Hey," Sam says to Dean as he starts to choke on his own blood. Y/N knows that there's nothing they can do, that the bullet clearly went through his lungs and now Dean's last moments on this earth are going to be full of pain. He doesn't deserve this.
"Dean, hey," She whispers, watching his eyes finally meet hers. "No, you can't do this, come on, we never had makeup sex." She's trying to joke, trying to make his last minutes bareable, but even though he smiles slightly she can see the panic flooding his eyes. As the light leaves them, and Y/N's tears start to fall, she realizes that she's going to go to Hell to get him back, because their story can't end that way.
"Y/N," Sam whispers, causing her eyes to flick to his.
"This can't be happening." She says, so soft and yet so full of pain that Sam's heart breaks into a million little pieces.
Day 2
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
Sam looks a little lost as he walks in, staring between Dean and Y/N like he thinks they may be monsters.
"Are you okay, Sam?" Y/N asks as she leans on the doorframe, watching her boyfriend gargle water like a toddler.
"I don't know." Sam says as Dean spits out his water. The couple makes eye contact, confused by this answer. "Man, I had a weird dream." Sam finally settles on, and Y/N nods as she goes back to their bag to finish packing.
"Don't forget your gun!" Y/N calls before Dean can walk out the door.
"Dean doesn't usually forget his gun." Sam mutters, and Y/N turns to the younger brother.
"Are you sure you're alright, Sammy?" Y/N asks as Dean digs through their bag.
"Are you bringing your gun?" Sam dodges the question, and Y/N furrows her brows.
"I never bring my gun to breakfast." She says, watching Sam's face for a few seconds until Dean walks through the door.
"Come on, sweetheart. Sammy, you lock up." Dean says as he grabs Y/N's hand. She tosses the keys to Sam, who turns toward the door.
They walk into the diner, choosing a booth. Y/N looks up at the menu, wondering if they'll let her order lunch for breakfast.
"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.
"It's Tuesday?" Sam asks, and Y/N turns to look at him.
"Yeah." Dean nods, his forehead slightly crinkled as Sam looks a little worried.
"Are you three ready?" The waitress comes up and asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.
"Yes! I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.
"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.
"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.
"I'll just have coffee, then." Y/N smiles, and they all turn to Sam.
"Uh, nothing for me. Thanks." Sam says, causing Y/N to furrow her brows.
"Let me know if you change your mind." The waitress says, and leaves them be. While the boys start to argue about Bela, Y/N looks around the diner. It seems like just a normal, old-fashioned diner, but something in her gut is telling her that this place isn't what it seems.
"Hey!" Dean snaps his fingers, and Y/N turns to see that he's snapping them at his brother, who seems to still be out of it. "You with me?"
"What?" Sam asks, and Y/N feels like something is off. Clearly, Sam isn't fine.
"Are you sure you feel okay?" Dean asks, leaning forward.
"You don't... You guys don't remember any of this?" He asks the two of them. Y/N and Dean look at each other, then back at Sam.
"Remember what?" Dean questions, and Y/N can't help but let her mouth hang slightly open, because she thinks Sam may have lost a couple marbles.
"This. Today. Like - like it's - like it's happened before?" He clarifies, which really only serves to make things muddier.
"Are you talking about déjà vu?" Y/N asks, hoping Sam just didn't get a good night of sleep.
"No. I mean like it's - like it's really happened before." Sam seems very intent on this, and Y/N just stares.
"Yeah, like déjà vu." Dean says with a nod.
"No, forget about déjà vu! I'm asking you if it feels like-like we're living yesterday all over again." Sam looks very agitated now, and Y/N looks at Dean, who she knows is about to talk about déjà vu again.
"Maybe you just need some sleep, Sam." Y/N suggests. Sam looks at her, as if remembering something, but before she can ask the waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it. Y/N blinks as this happens, but Dean smiles.
"Nice reflexes." He compliments, but Sam is staring at Y/N.
"What?" She asks, but he shakes his head. They eat the rest of their meal in peace, as if Sam hadn't fully admitted to being crazy, before they take a walk outside.
"Are you guys sure that today is Tuesday?" Sam asks, and Y/N takes a deep breath as they pass a barking dog.
"Sam, what the hell are you on about?" She asks, watching him look around as if everything was out to get him.
"Okay, look. Yesterday was Tuesday, right?" He asks, and Y/N and Dean both look at each other once more (Y/N's lost count of how many 'your brother is crazy' looks she's given him). "But today is Tuesday, too." He sounds out of his mind, and Y/N is genuinely starting to get worried.
"Yeah, no. Good. You're totally balanced." Dean says.
"So you don't don't believe me?" Sam practically yells. They both turn to him, missing a blonde lady come out of nowhere and run into Dean.
"Excuse me." She says, but Y/N's already turning around.
"He-" She barely makes a sound before Sam's hand covers her mouth, turning her around and getting them to start walking again. "What the hell?" She asks, pushing Sam off.
"Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know?" Dean gets back on track, briefly distracting Y/N from the fight she was about to start. "Even-for-us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy." Dean says.
"Dingo at my baby?" Y/N repeats, looking over to Dean. "Maybe it was a premonition?" She offers before getting too off track.
"No. No way. Way too vivid." Sam shakes his head. "We were at the Mystery Spot, and then," But he trails off.
"And then what?" Dean asks, but Sam looks down at Y/N.
"Then I woke up." He says as they walk by two men arguing about a piano, but Y/N knows he's not telling the full truth. "Wait a minute! The mastery spot. You think maybe it," He trails off again, and Y/N wants to shake him.
"Maybe what?" Dean asks.
"We gotta check that place out." Sam says, but Dean does't seem convinced. "Just go with me on this." Sam begs.
"Alright, alright. We'll go tonight, after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look." Dean agrees, and Y/N nods.
"Wait, what?" Sam stops them, and Y/N turns on the sidewalk to face them. "No." He says, as if it's a terrible idea.
"Why not? You suggested it." Y/N argues.
"Uh," Sam looks at Y/N, as if for help, but she has no idea what he needs. "Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours. Nice and crowded." He says instead, and Y/N blinks.
"My God, you're a freak." Dean says, and Y/N drops her jaw to try to stop from laughing, hitting Dean's arm.
"Dean!" She says, looking at Sam's bitch face.
"Okay! Whatever. We'll go now." He agrees, walking past Y/N and Sam.
"Y/N," Sam keeps her from following Dean so close, the two of them walking a bit behind him as he steps into the road.
"What? Are you sure you're okay?" Y/N asks once more, but Sam doesn't answer but a car speeds through the stop sign and hits Dean, who was only a few feet in front of them. Y/N watches his body go flying before landing face down.
"Dean!" Sam yells, and the two of them race over to his body. "No, no, no." He begs as Y/N flips his body over, holding his bloody face in her hands. He's struggling to breathe, but only for a couple moments before he's not breathing anymore.
"Dean?" Y/N whispers, shaking him slightly. "Dean!" She screams, tears starting to fall down her face.
"Y/N," Sam looks over at her with an unreadable expression, but she doesn't care because Dean is dead.
"This can't be happening." She says, and Sam's eyes widen.
Day 3
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"I'm in a time loop." Sam says quietly, not getting out of bed. Y/N pauses, looking over to him.
"What?" She asks, but Sam glares at her.
"This has happened before. This all has happened before." He gets up, and Y/N nods slowly.
"Alright. Why don't we go get some breakfast, and you can tell us about it then." She suggests, which seems to calm him down a little bit.
Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun, not grabbing hers, and then they're off the breakfast.
"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.
"Would you listen to me, Dean? Cause I am flipping out." Sam says lowly, and Y/N and Dean look at each other before looking back at Sam.
"Are you three ready?" The waitress comes up and asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.
"He'll take the special, side of bacon, and they both want coffee. Nothing for me, thanks." Sam says quickly. Y/N's eyes widen.
"You got it." The waitress turns and leaves, and Y/N looks over at Sam.
"I wanted lunch." She complains with a small pout, but Sam doesn't seem to care.
"They don't do lunch this early, the kitchen isn't set up yet." He's still speaking fast, and it's starting to upset Y/N.
"You don't know that." She argues, and Sam finally looks her dead in the eye.
"Yes, I do. That's what I've been trying to tell you guys. I'm stuck in a time loop." Sam insists, and Y/N nods.
"Like Groundhog Day." Dean suggests, as if this is crazy.
"Yes. Exactly like Groundhog Day." Sam seems happy with this, and Y/N knows that her boyfriend does not believe him at all.
"Uh-huh." Dean's almost smiling, and she sighs.
"So you don't believe me." Sam says, as if it's the most believable thing in the world. Dean laughs at this.
"It's - It's a little crazy. Even-for-us crazy. Ya know like, uh,"
"Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?" Sam finishes the sentence, and Y/N's eyes widen.
"How'd you know I was gonna say that?" Dean asks, as if Sam hasn't been explaining it the whole time.
"Because you've said it before, Dean. That's my whole point." Sam says, and Y/N's starting think that maybe Sam's not crazy. The waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it. Y/N blinks as this happens, but Dean smiles.
"Nice reflexes." He says, but Sam looks like a kicked puppy because Dean doesn't believe him.
"No. I know it was gonna happen." Sam argues. Y/N sighs as she takes a sip of her coffee before putting it down.
"I'm not saying we don't believe you, Sam, but I'm sure there's some sort of explanation for this." Y/N says, and Sam's eyes snap to her.
"I'm sure there is." He says cooly, and Y/N flinches back.
"I haven't done anything yet. This is the first Tuesday I've lived through this week, sorry." She says, rolling her eyes at Sam's attitude.
"Alright, everyone calm down." Dean suggests and this fires both Y/N and Sam up.
"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down because," Sam stops, and he looks between Y/N and Dean.
"Because what?" Dean asks, waiting for the answer.
"Because you die today, Dean." Sam says, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.
"I'm not gonna die. Not today." Dean says, as if this is an idiotic thing to say and Sam is just trying to get a rise out of him.
"Twice now, we've watched you die." Sam says, looping Y/N in on this even though she hasn't been going through the time loop with him. "And I can't. I won't do it again, okay?" Sam's voice is low, and Dean sits back at this. He can tell his brother is serious. Sam looks over at Y/N, who's staring back at him. "You're just gonna have to believe me. Please."
"Alright. I think still think you're nuts, but," He nods a couple times. "Okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Dean promises, just as his food comes to the table.
After breakfast, they take a walk outside, back to the hotel. Sam pushes his way to be on Y/N's left, even though Dean's always on the left, but she lets him. A girl bumps into him, and Y/N turns to eye her before continuing walking. They're talking about the Mystery Spot, about why Sam thinks it's the root of the entire problem. The brothers are fighting, and Y/N is tired of it.
"Alright! Let's just go tonight after they close." She says, but clearly this was not the right thing to say.
"No, no, no, no!" Sam says, looking at her like she's crazy. "We can't." They're standing on the sidewalk now, Y/N turned to face the other two.
"Why not?" Dean asks, and Sam takes a deep breath.
"Because you," He starts, and Y/N realizes immediately what Sam is trying to say.
"I what?" Dean asks, and Y/N rolls her eyes.
"You die there." She says, causing Sam to scowl at her. She squints instead of asking what his problem is, because clearly he has a lot.
"Okay then, let's go now." Dean says, walking off the sidewalk and onto the street. Sam knocks Y/N over as he grabs Dean, stopping him from being hit by a car that's blowing through a stop sign. Y/N's elbow is bleeding, but otherwise she thinks she's fine, and Dean is fine too.
"What the hell?" She grumbles as she stands, going over to Dean and Sam.
"Did it look cool, like in the movies?" Dean asks, and Y/N rolls her eyes and she holds her elbow.
"You peed yourself." Sam says, and she starts laughing.
"Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" Dean asks, before looking at Y/N. "You alright, sweetheart?" He asks, and Y/N nods even though she can feel the blood staining the long sleeve she has on.
"What the hell was that, Sam?" She asks, turning to him.
"I was saving Dean." Sam argues, mood soured even more.
"You didn't have to push me to the ground!" She argues, and Dean snaps his head to her.
"Why are you pushing her, man?" He asks, stepping closer to Sam.
"Let's just go." Sam mutters, knowing he won't win this. "Don't forget your gun this time, Y/N." Sam calls as he crosses the street. Y/N turns to Dean, who grabs her hand and crosses the street with her.
"I don't know what he's on about, I never forget my gun."
~
"I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought - it's full of crap." Dean says as they walk the same walk they had been in the morning. It's dark now, and they had spent the day at the Mystery Spot trying to figure something out. They had gotten absolutely nowhere, which doesn't bode well for Sam.
"So what is it, then, Dean?" Sam is clearly freaking out, and Y/N is exhausted of all this. "What the hell is happening to us?"
"I don't know." Dean says lowly, and Y/N knows he's exhausted of this too. "Alright, let me just - so, every day I die." Dean states. Y/N has half a mind of just continuing on to the hotel.
"Yeah," Sam confirms.
"That's when you wake up again, right?" Dean asks, and Sam looks over at Y/N. She has no clue why he keeps doing this, but it's driving her crazy.
"Yeah," He says finally.
"So, let's just make sure I don't die." Dean says, as if it's obvious. "If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."
"Great, I love this plan. Can we go to bed now?" Y/N asks, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him along.
"Let's get some take out. Who want's Chinese?" The words are barely out of his mouth with a rope snaps, and Y/N turns to see Dean's body flattened underneath a piano. Blood is everywhere, and his head has been decapitated. She's so shocked, she can't do anything but stare.
"Y/N, wait!" Sam calls, and she looks up at him.
"This can't be happening." She whispers, and Sam lets out a yell as everything goes black.
Day 4
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sam yells, and Y/N's eyes widen as Sam crowds her.
"Sam!" Dean shouts, but Sam doesn't care about whatever threats his brother his about to make.
"I know it's you. I know you're doing this. And I get it, okay. I don't like it either. But if I have to listen to that song one more goddamn time!" Sam is in Y/N's face, and she looks terrified.
"What are you talking about?" She asks, and Sam rolls his eyes.
"Don't play dumb! I know you're behind the time loop! Look, we can stop Dean from dying, but you have to work with me and stop doing this!" Sam begs, and Dean finally pulls Sam back.
"What the hell are you on about, man?" Dean asks, getting between Sam and Y/N.
"I am stuck in a time loop where you die every day and Y/N is causing it!" Sam accuses, and the two of them stare at him as if he's crazy.
"How!" Y/N shrieks, coming out from behind Dean's back. "How would I even be doing that?"
"I," Sam pauses, because he actually hadn't thought that far. "I don't know. But every time Dean dies, you say the same thing." He says, and Y/N takes a deep breath.
"Great. Good deduction work, Sam." She says, and now he's starting to doubt himself. But if it isn't Y/N, and it isn't the Mystery Spot, then what is it? "I'm going to get some food." She tells the two of them, walking out the door.
"Don't forget your gun." Sam says weakly, and she turns sharply to him.
"I never bring my gun to breakfast." She grumbles, making a point not to grab it before walking out the door.
"What the hell is your problem?" Dean asks, more angry than Sam's seen him in awhile.
"I have watched you die over and over, Dean." Sam says, but Dean is still pissed off.
"That doesn't mean you go after my girlfriend, bitch." Dean says, leaving the room without grabbing his gun.
Sam wishes he was surprised when Y/N comes running into the room, tears streaming down her face as she tells Sam that Dean choked on his breakfast.
"This can't be happening." Y/N whispers through her tears, and Sam just lays back in his bed, thinking you have no idea.
Day 5
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"No going out today!" Sam says, making everyone pause. Dean turns the music off, then looks at his brother.
"Alright, I know you've been pretty upset lately, but,"
"I'm trapped in a time loop." He says quickly. "No, it's not déjà vu. No, I'm not going crazy. You die every day. We can't go get breakfast because you'll choke on your food. We can't check out the Mystery Spot after hours, because you get shot. We can't go during the day, because you get hit by a car. And even if we narrowly avoid those two fates, a piano crushes and decorates you. So you are gonna sit in this hotel room, and we are going to get to tomorrow." Sam tells Dean, then finally looks at Y/N. They're both looking at him like he's crazy.
"I'm taking a shower." Dean says simply, getting up and looking at Y/N. "Can you please un-crazy him?" He asks, before shutting the door to the bathroom and turning the water on.
"Are you on drugs?" Y/N asks, because it's the only thing she can think of. Sam sighs, shaking his head.
"I know how it sounds, okay. But I swear, it doesn't matter what we do, Dean ends up dying and the day restarts. It's an endless stream of Tuesdays." He puts his head in his hands, and Y/N frowns.
"Well, something had to of caused it. Do you know what it is?" Y/N asks, sitting on the bed next to him. She's not sure she fully believes him, but they also hunt demons and monsters for a living and her boyfriend has a death sentence that ends in hell which saved Sam's life, so she can't say he's completely crazy.
"At first, I thought it was you, somehow. But yesterday I called you out and realized that it wasn't." Sam admits, and Y/N narrows her eyes.
"Why would you think I had something to do with this?" She asks, a little hurt.
"Because Dean kept dying and you always say the same thing after he dies. I thought you somehow made a deal or something to try and get him back, but for some reason this is the day he dies." Sam says the words with pain lacing his voice, because he doesn't want to give up trying to save Dean's life. As much as he hates watching Dean die over and over again, he'll go through it if the end means he'd save Dean's life.
"Ahh!" They hear Dean's yell from the bathroom, along with a loud thud. Y/N's eyes widen, and she looks over to Sam. He thinks they're going to go look at the body, that she'll want to confirm that Dean's really dead, but instead she grabs his arm, hand shaking in terror.
"This can't be happening." She says, and Sam's mouth drops open just as the world goes black.
Day 6
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"Let's order in breakfast." Sam suggests on a whim, hoping to keep Dean inside without setting him off. He has no idea what causes the deaths, or why they happen at different times, but he can't figure it out if Dean keeps dying at the beginning of each day.
"There's a good diner down the road, why don't we just go there?" Y/N asks as she zips her bag, turning to the boys.
"I just really want tacos." Sam lies, and it's a stupid lie but he needs them to stay in.
"I could go for tacos." Dean shrugs, and Y/N sighs, knowing she's lost this battle. They drive to the drive-thru (because Sam insists he cannot go inside and doesn't want to sit on those chairs, they aren't made for men of his size) and take the tacos back to the hotel. Once they're all spread out, Sam can breathe a little easier.
"So, are you ever going to explain why we had to get tacos instead of going to the diner?" Y/N asks as she bites into her taco. She stares at Sam as she chews, but her face turns as something wrong hits her taste buds.
"Do these tacos taste funny to you?" Dean asks, mouth full.
The only good thing, Sam thinks as he watches Y/N slump against the table only seconds before Dean does, is that he doesn't have to hear Y/N's heart shattering whisper again.
Day 7
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"Dean!" Y/N screams as Dean falls to the ground after trying to plug in his razor, ending up electrocuted with hair sticking up and skin burning. "He's not breathing! Sam!" She calls, but Sam stays in bed. He takes a deep breath as he prepares himself for the next line, which although he's heard it five times already never fails to make the hair on his arms stick up.
"This can't be happening."
Day 8
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
Sam doesn't have time today. He's going to figure out what the hell is going on at the Mystery Spot.
He lets the day go on as normal, Dean getting his bacon and Y/N asking about lunch. He forgets to stand in Dean's spot, and Y/N gets in a fight with the Dean, which means they end up meeting her after hours at the Mystery Spot.
"I think Sam's gone crazy." Dean says when they spot her.
"Why's that?" She asks, taking a flashlight from him. She forgot her gun at the hotel, having thought she would be going back after breakfast. They enter the building, weaving through some rooms and hotel to get to the main attracts
"Dean, you said you would trust me." Sam complains, and Dean sighs.
"I will, I will." He promises. "Sam says he's been through today before. Like Groundhog Day. He said the first time, I died here."
"Listen," Sam stops them both in a green and black spiral hallway. "The first time we were here, Dean died because the owner caught us sneaking around. This time, we're gonna catch the owner so I can figure out what the hell is up with this place. Because if I wake up tomorrow and it isn't Wednesday, I'm gonna lose my mind." Sam tells them, then marches out. Y/N nods, looking to Dean.
"He's lost his marbles." She's agrees, following Sam.
It's not hard to tie up the owner with the duct tape Sam had brought, but Y/N and Dean both just watch as Sam starts to tear into the walls with a sledge hammer.
"Everybody's fine. Nobody's gonna get hurt, okay?" Dean says enthusiastically to the owner. Y/N is sitting on the floor next to Sam, watching with wide eyes as he goes crazy.
"Sam, maybe we should drop it and let the poor man leave." She suggests, watching Sam stagger back. He looks like a wild man, and Y/N fights the urge to slide away.
"Something's gotta be goin' on here. I intend to find out what." He heaves, and Y/N just nods. They've been here for the better part of the night, and Sam has gone through most of the walls.
"Place is tore up pretty good, dude. Time to give it a rest." Dean says, but he doesn't move toward his brother.
"No!" Sam yells, startling Y/N. Now she does slide back to Dean's side, not wanting to be near the axe. "I'm gonna take it down to studs." Sam goes back to chopping, and Y/N runs a hand over her face as Dean lets out a breathy chuckle.
"Sammy, that's enough. Give me the axe." Dean pushes himself up, and Y/N stays sitting as she watches the two boys fight.
"No!" Sam yells, pulling it away from his brother.
"Give me the axe! This is crazy!" Dean argues, and the two start yelling over each other. Y/N stands as Dean grabs the handle, the axe balancing between them.
"Guys, I think we should drop the axe and quit fighting." She's trying to sound calm, but her heart is racing. She doesn't like the look of this. She begins to walk forward as Sam loses his grip on the axe and it slices right across Dean's neck, not quite decapitating him but killing him quickly.
"Oh, no. Dean?" Sam doesn't sound too concerned, but Y/N feels like she's going to throw up. There's blood covering her face and clothing, Dean's blood, and he's dead. He's dead, and Sam killed him. She looks up at him, and he just tilts his head and sighs.
"This can't be happening." She says, confusion laced in her voice.
Day 100
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun, he grabs her hand and tells Sam to lock up, and then they're on their way to breakfast. On the way, Sam tries to tell them about the time loop, but it goes about the same as it did the last time. They sit in the too small booth again, and Sam almost rips his hair out when Dean starts to speak.
"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information. Before she can, Sam sets a set of keys on the table. "What are those?" Dean asks, looking up.
"The old man's." When he says it, Y/N realizes that Sam seems tired, like he didn't sleep at all last night. "Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel." He says tiredly, like he's had this conversation before. Y/N furrows her brows, but before she can ask the waitress shows up.
"Are you three ready?" She asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.
"Yes, we are. I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.
"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.
"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.
"I'll just have coffee, then." The waitress jots it down, and they turn to Sam.
"Hey, Doris. What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range." Sam says, and Y/N opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She has no idea how to excuse what Sam has just said. "You're a terrible shot." He says it like it's funny, which makes him seem even more crazy.
"How do you know," She starts, but Sam doesn't let her finish.
"Lucky guess." He nods. Y/N can feel Dean looking to her, probably to see if this is real or not, but Y/N cannot take her eyes off the younger Winchester. They all smile at Doris, who leaves, then turn to Sam.
"Okay, so, you think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean asks, because clearly the display he just put on caught his older brother's attention.
"Time loop." Sam is looking at the table, slouched in his seat with a sad expression.
"Like Groundhog Day." Dean suggests, and Y/N watches Sam shrug.
"It doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it." He grumbles quickly, and Y/N sighs.
"Jeez, aren't you grumpy?" Dean says, and Y/N closes her eyes at her boyfriend's dense nature.
"Yeah, I am. You wanna know why?" Sam asks, and Y/N puts her head on the table. Sam may have actually lived through this Tuesday a hundred times, but Y/N has lived through this fight a thousand.
"Why?" Dean can't resist poking.
"Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So, yeah, I'm a little grumpy." Sam tells them, and Y/N picks her head up to try and comfort him.
"We'll figure this out, Sam." She tells him, because even if she's not sure if Sam is truly crazy or if he's actually living through a year of Tuesdays, she knows they will help him.
"Hot sauce." Sam says, and Y/N can only blink at this.
"What?" Dean asks, but then the waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it.
"Nice reflexes."
"I knew it was gonna happen, Dean." Sam barely lets his brother get the words out. "I know everything that's gonna happen."
"You don't know everything." Dean snarks, and Y/N wonders if in one of these hundred timelines, her boyfriend ever just leaves things be instead of challenging them.
"Yeah, I do." Sam counters, and Y/N is about to split up the fighting before it's even started when the two begin to talk at the same time.
"Yeah, right. Nice guess." Dean looks up at that, and Sam just smirks.
"It wasn't a guess." Sam says, but of course Dean can't leave it at that.
"Right, you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam! Sam!" They both lean into the table, getting close to each other. "You think you're being funny, but you're being really really childish. Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and evermore when he wakes up-"
"Okay, stop it!" She says, but Sam says it in time with her, causing her to stare at him. He cowers back, knowing he crossed a line.
"Sorry." He mutters, and everyone takes a deep breath. "But that's not all. Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register." They all turn to look at the guy at the front, who seems none the wiser to Sam knowing this information.
"Sam," Y/N starts, but Sam doesn't stop to listen to her. Whatever he thinks she's said before, it clearly wasn't important.
"Judge Meyers? At night, he puts on a furry bunny outfit." Sam says it loud enough that Judge Myers hears them and drops his drink, spilling it everywhere. "Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the Mechanic on the way home."
"What's your point?" Dean asks, eyes wide with this information.
"My point is I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. I even watched you die once." He turns to Y/N, who is still staring at him. "I have ripped apart the mystery spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life, and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up. And then it's Tuesday again." Y/N and Dean look at each other, and Y/N wonders how many times Sam has watched them do this. She wonders how many times Sam has gone through this exact speech, how many times it took for him to get to where he is now.
~
They're walking back to the hotel, and Sam's still dejected.
"Dog." He says, and on cue, the dog starts barking.
"There's gotta be some way out of this." Y/N says, even though she's sure Sam's tried almost everything.
"Where's my dang keys?" Sam asks, and a moment later they walk around the old man from the diner asking the same thing. "Excuse me." He says, and then a girl brushes past Dean.
"Excuse me." She tells him, and Y/N turns around, about to yell at her.
"Don't yell at her, you'll only start a fight." Sam says as he grabs her arm. She's starting to get annoyed with his futuristic bullshit, so she rips her arm away from his.
"I wasn't going to." She says, and before Sam can tell her that he knows she was, Y/N feels the need to do something different, just to prove him wrong. "Excuse me!" She calls, causing the blonde girl to turn around. Y/N jogs to catch up, leaving the brothers behind her.
"Has she ever done that?" Dean asks, starting to walk back.
"No," Sam says, sounding shocked. Y/N's grabbing a paper by the time they get there, and the girl is walking away. She looks down at the paper, then back up at Sam.
"You've done this a hundred times, and you never thought to check and see what she was carrying?" Y/N asks, and Sam shakes his head.
"Most of the time, I was keeping you from a fight." Sam says, and Y/N rolls her eyes.
"It's a missing poster." She says, holding it up. "For her father." When Y/N drops the last part, Sam's eyes widen and grabs the paper, jogging toward the girl. The dog next to them is barking, and Dean smiles down at them.
"Hey, buddy. Someone need a friend?" He asks as he crouches to pet them. Y/N smiles and leans in closer, and then the dog goes for Dean's jugular as if it's a rabid animal.
"Dean!" Y/N screams, pulling him away from the dog. But he's already gone, blood all over his front and eyes wide still. "Sam!" She calls, and Sam turns to see the scene.
"Shit," He mutters, but at least he figured something out before he had to restart. Something useful.
"This can't be happening."
Day 103
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
Sam is ready to get to breakfast, and after Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun they're off, Sam bringing his laptop to do some digging into the case. They order from the waitress, sitting in the small booth, and Sam starts to report on his findings from the day before, when he had talked to the missing guy's daughter.
"He writes about local Mystery Spots, debunking them. He's already put four of them out of business. Here." She turns the laptop around so they can see what Sam's found, and the couple start to read up.
"The 'Truth Warrior'?" Y/N asks, with a roll of her eyes.
"More like a Pompous Schmuck, if you ask me." Dean says, leaning over her shoulder.
"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written. He must've weighed a ton, he was so full of himself." Sam says, and Y/N pauses on that. How has Sam read everything he's ever written if they just started researching this morning?
"When did you read all that?" Y/N asks, and Sam just stares for a moment as the couple looks at him like he's crazy.
"Come on." He avoids the question, grabbing his laptop.
"It's funny, ya know? This guy spends his whole life crapping on mystery spots and then he vanishes in one." Dean says with a chuckle as they stand, and Y/N nods with a smile.
"Kinda poetic." She says, following Dean out the door. They pass when Sam isn't right behind them, turning back to see him staring at an empty plate.
"What?" Dean asks.
"Guy has maple syrup for the past hundred Tuesdays - all the sudden, he's having strawberry?" Sam watches the man that was just in the diner as he walks outside.
"That's not a very funny punchline." Y/N comments, looking at the plate.
"It's a free country, Sam. A man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?" Dean jokes, causing Y/N to let out a small giggle. Sam doesn't find either of their jokes even worthy of a smile.
"Not in this diner. Not today." He says, completely serious. Y/N's smile begins to fade, because she thinks Sam may actually be crazy. "Nothing in this place ever changes - ever. Except me." Sam says dramatically. Y/N opens her mouth with a small smile.
"This cannot be happening." She says, Sam's eyes widening as he turns to her. "Sam, it's too early for you to lose your marbles."
"No, wait!" He yells, but it's too late.
Day 104
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.
"I'm caught in a time loop, and I think I just figured out how to fix it but we have to go to breakfast now." Sam says quickly, rising and going to his bag, changing his clothes without even caring that Y/N is standing right there. She covers her eyes dramatically, even though she's seen it all through the years when she's had to fix him up after hard fights.
"Breakfast sounds good to me." Dean agrees, completely skipping the time loop part as if Sam had told them the weather.
"Don't forget your gun, Dean. I'll lock up. We can talk about it later." Sam says, pulling on his shoes and grabbing Y/N's arm to lead her out the door.
"What the hell are you doing?" She asks, snatching her arm out of his grasp.
"I promise, it will all make sense soon. I just have to get to the diner." He lets Dean and Y/N go ahead before goes back into the room to grab what he needs. He doesn't even complain about the small booth, doesn't snap when Y/N asks for the hundredth time about lunch, and grabs the hot sauce when it falls. When Dean's food finally comes, he seems to be in a better mood.
"So, you think you're caught in some kind of what now?" Dean asks through a mouth of bacon. Y/N scrunches her face in disgust, but she doesn't say anything.
"Eat your breakfast." Sam snaps, and Y/N gives Sam a look, if only because she doesn't dare to say anything to him when he's acting like this. As soon as the man sitting at the bar across from them gets up, Sam follows with the bag he packed.
"What's in the bag?" Dean asks, and Y/N sighs as she stands.
"Nothing good, I'm sure." She says as Dean follows, putting money on the table. Sam follows the man far enough that there aren't a lot of people around before he pushes him against a chainlink fence, a stake pressed to his neck.
"I know who you are. Or should I say 'what'?" Sam says, and Y/N looks at Dean, unsure what to do.
"Oh my God. Please, don't kill me." The man begs, and Y/N steps toward Sam, hand on his bicep.
"Uh, Sam," She starts softly, but he shrugs her off.
"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it." Sam is acting like nothing else exists, and it's kind of scaring Y/N.
"What?" The man asks, as if Sam really needed prompting to continue.
"It's your M.O. that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?" Y/N looks at Dean once more, because she is completely lost.
"Yeah, sure. Okay. Just put the stake down." The man begs, and Y/N grabs Dean's arm to try and get him to help.
"Sam, maybe you should-"
"No!" Sam yells, voice deep. It startles Y/N, but Dean is still staring intently. "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops. In fact, you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a trickster." Sam says, and Y/N suddenly realizes what Sam is saying.
"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman. My wife's name is Amelia. I've got two kids. For crying out loud, I sell ad space!" Y/N's not sure if the trickster is just putting up a great show, or of if Sam has gone off his rocker and this is his breaking point. She briefly realizes she'd be losing both Winchesters if this is true, so she needs this man to be a trickster. She needs Sam to be right.
"Don't lie to me! I know what you are!" Sam screams. Y/N flinches again, and Dean grabs her hand and squeezes. "We've killed one of your kind before!" The words are barely out of Sam's mouth before Loki is there, in the flesh. The trickster they thought they killed, not actually dead.
"Actually, bucko, you didn't." He says, and Y/N feels Dean push her behind him slightly.
"Why are you doing this." Sam says, keeping the stake pointing to his neck.
"You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?" The answer makes Y/N angry, but Dean opens his mouth first.
"And Hasselback, what about him?" Dean asks, as if that's the most important thing right now. It's nice he's thinking about the victim, but a trickster they thought they killed is actually alive, and apparently has been putting Sam through time loops.
"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." The trickster says, and Y/N groans, because of course nothing can be easy. "Huh? Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town." He's saying it all with a smile, and Y/N can't stop herself.
"So this is fun for you?" She asks, and Sam pushes the stake in more.
"You killed Dean over and over again." Sam says, and Y/N can't help but squeeze Dean's arm tighter; Sam hadn't told them about that part of the time loop.
"One - yes, it is fun. And two - this is so not about killing Dean. This joke, is on you, Sam." The trickster says, before he looks over to Y/N. "It could've been on you, too, but I knew you'd figure it out way faster. But Sam, having to watch his brother die every day. Forever. Having to listen to you say the same words again and again." He's smiling, and Y/N feels sick even though she doesn't even know what words he's talking about.
"You son of a bitch." Sam says, but he has nothing else, no other comeback.
"How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother, no matter what? Hell, sometimes, you can't even save her." Loki taunts, and Y/N wishes Sam would just kill the motherfucker and end this.
"Oh yeah?" Sam asks, pushing him into the fence even more. "I kill you, this all ends now."
"Oh, hey! Whoa, okay, okay. Look, I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday. I swear." Loki says, and Y/N shakes her head.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" She asks, and he turns to Sam.
"If I'm not, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner." He says simply. Sam looks over to Dean and Y/N, who look at him with the same expression. He knows what he has to do.
"No. Easier to just kill you." He says.
"Sorry, kiddo, can't have that." Loki snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's gone. Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and flopping her body dramatically.
"Don't," Sam says, but it's too late.
"This can't be happening." She complains, and Sam thanks the trickster that at least this time, it wasn't soft and sad.
Day 105
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N turns to see him looking wide eyed.
"What, are you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asks around his toothbrush, one hand on Y/N's hip and the other brushing his teeth behind her.
"No Asia." Sam says, and Y/N furrows her brows as Dean leans over her to spit his toothpaste out.
"Yeah, I know. This station sucks." He complains, going over to his bag. Y/N spits out her toothpaste and rinses her mouth, freeing up the bathroom for Sam.
"It's Wednesday!" He says, and Y/N pursues her lips in confusion.
"Yup, it usually comes after Tuesday." She says, going to her shared bag.
"Hey, turn the music off, would ya?" Dean asks, getting in Y/N's way of packing the bag.
"What, are you kidding?" Sam asks, as if Dean was crazy. "This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?" He dramatically jumps out of bed, causing Y/N and Dean to just stare.
"No." Dean says flatly, and Y/N tilts her head slightly.
"Are you alright, Sam?" She asks, walking over to the bed. "You were pretty out of it yesterday." She feels his forehead, and he only lets her because he knows Dean would kill him if he smacked her hand away.
"What happened?" Sam asks, too scared to hope.
"I mean, you were acting all strange, and we ran into the trickster." Dean explains, and Sam smiles as he finishes putting on his shirt.
"Alright, pack your stuff. Let's get the hell out of town, now." Sam says, and Y/N turns to Dean.
"What's up with him?" She asks, and he frowns.
"I don't know, but I want breakfast." Dean says as he walks out of the room, Y/N following.
"No breakfast!" Sam shouts, and she rolls her eyes.
"We can stop somewhere." She whispers as they make their way to the car. Dean puts their bag in, then Y/N's small personal bag, not closing the trunk because Sam's supposed to be right behind them.
"I feel like we made a mistake, letting the trickster go." He says, and she sighs. Before she can respond, however, they turn to see a man pointing a gun at them.
"Give me your wallet." He's shaking, and Y/N can tell this is his first time.
"Hey, woah, we can talk about this, alright?" Dean tries, hands up. Y/N reaches for her gun, but she forgot it in their bag, thinking they were just going out to the car. A stupid, stupid mistake. "Why don't you just put the gun down, we can talk about this." He says, but the man doesn't like the answer. He gets closer, and the second Dean shifts to grab a gun the man shoots. He must've realized his mistake quickly, because he's running before Y/N even screams. She hits the ground, grabbing his body and staring at the bloody mess and the bullet hole on the front.
"Dean?" She whispers, but she knows it's futile. The man may not have had much experience with a gun, but he hit Dean perfectly to kill.
"Dean!" Sam shouts as he runs over. "No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen, not today!" He says, and Y/N has no idea what that means but she lets it go as she watches her tears fall onto Dean's freckled face. The love of her life, gone.
"I'm sorry," She says, because she doesn't know what else to say. She should have had her gun on her, should have been able to stop that guy.
"I'm supposed to wake up." Sam says, and Y/N looks up finally.
"What?" She says, cradling Dean's body close to hers.
"Say the thing." He demands, and she flinches back. It's silent for a couple moments as they stare at each other.
"What thing?" She asks, looking back down at Dean. She pushes some stray hairs out of his face, brushing her fingers down his stubble.
"You always say it!" Sam snaps, and Y/N startles. "You say it every time, right before it resets. You have to say it." He begs, and she thinks he must be going crazy.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She whispers as more tears fall down her face.
"'This can't be happening.' Say 'this can't be happening.'" Sam tells her, and she just shakes her head.
"Why?" She doesn't understand, everything feels wrong. Holding Dean's lifeless body is wrong, not feeling his breath is wrong.
"Just do it!" He yells, and she can't help the sob that escapes.
"This can't be happening." She repeats, but nothing happens.
Six Months Later
"Hey, Sam, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm back from Cabo, where I spread some of Dean's ashes. I wish you could've come, Bobby said he hasn't heard from you in awhile, so I figured I should reach out. He said you've been hunting still. Taking care of business. I want to help, Sam. Don't push me away." She takes a deep breath, and Sam can hear the hesitation over the recording. "I know this is hard, Sam. But you've turned into a machine, and I know Dean doesn't want that." She hesitates again, and Sam almost wishes she'd end the call. "Call me, Sam. Please." Finally, the end tone plays, and Sam presses on the gas harder. He knows that Y/N wouldn't approve him summoning the trickster, but he has to do it, he has to get his revenge or get Dean back.
Sam has been on the fringe, he knows, but killing Bobby was a wake up call. He would promise that trickster anything, to just have Dean back. Bobby's voicemails are bad enough, but Y/N's break his already fragile heart. He can barely listen when she does call. He would have sold his soul. But thankfully, he doesn't have to do that. Loki snaps his fingers, and for once - no, this makes twice - Sam doesn't have to hear the God forsaken words come out of Y/N's mouth before everything goes black.
Wednesday
Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N turns to see him looking wide eyed.
"What, are you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asks around his toothbrush, one hand on Y/N's hip and the other brushing his teeth behind her. Sam continues to stare, and Dean spits out the toothpaste over Y/N. "I know, no Asia. This station sucks." Dean complains, and Y/N rolls her eyes as she spits out her own toothpaste.
"It's Wednesday." He says softly, and Y/N briefly wonders if he had a nightmare. She didn't hear any tossing or turning, but that didn't mean much.
"Yup, it usually comes after Tuesday." She says, going to her shared bag.
"Hey, turn the music off, would ya?" Dean asks, getting in Y/N's way of packing the bag. She smiles up at him, but then Sam comes over, grabbing Dean around the shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. She steps back to let them have their moment, but Dean is looking at her confused over Sam's shoulder.
"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" He asks, and Sam breathes deeply.
"Enough." He answers, then pulls back. "Wait, what do you remember." He looks at the both of them, so Y/N answers.
"You were pretty out of it yesterday." She says, recalling how erratic he had acted at the diner.
"Yeah, you were acting all strange, and we ran into the trickster." Dean says, and Sam nods. "That's about it."
"Let's go." Sam finally says with a small smile.
"No breakfast?" Dean asks, and Sam chuckles.
"We can get breakfast on the way." She tells him, and both of them nod. "Are you sure you're okay, Sam?" She knows something's up, but Sam is trying to play it off.
"I just had a really weird dream." Sam says, and Y/N nods. "And Y/N, don't ever leave the hotel without your gun again. Ever." He says, and Y/N furrows her brow.
"We're literally going to parking lot." She says, but Sam shakes his head.
"Trust me, don't do." He picks up his bag, and Y/N shrugs, grabbing her gun out of her personal bag before following Dean out, Sam bringing up the rear.
"I really hope this is happening." Sam says as he looks at the bed that he woke up in over a hundred times, then closes the door. 
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @king-of-milf-lovers @lyarr24
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izvmimi · 2 days ago
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cw: platonic!sanji x reader, luffy x reader. fluff. food mentioned.
“Sanji, can I ask you a silly question?’
Sanji’s hands a flurry of motion - it’s an entire spectacle and a half to watch him cook, even when he’s not meant to have an audience. And you’re not an audience still, rather you’re just an aide and also have your own separate task, mixing a concoction of a homemade electrolyte solution that you’ll ensure the more banged up members of the crew will drink - namely Luffy and Zoro given your most recent escapades - in addition to Sanji’s heavenly cooking.
He does hear you over the sizzle of onions and garlic, even if he doesn’t do more than shoot you a glance, the very end of a cigarette between his lips.
“Shoot,” he offers, with a flip of the pan. His other hand is now in his pocket, and it almost upsets you that he manages to look cool while making a hearty porridge. Everything about him is cool.
All the Straw Hat Pirates are cool perhaps, even if you might be the newest and least so.
Your eyes focus on the browning food in the pan before you look towards Sanji, your cheeks warming a moment as you consider what you’re about to say. You hope he doesn’t misunderstand, but it’s something that’s crossed your mind since a month after you joined the group.
Sanji doesn’t flirt with you anymore.
He’s gentlemanly, he’s polite, he is just as gracious to you as he is with Robin and Nami, but the kindness he affords you is not romantic in the same way, and it’s occurred to you more than once, that even if things may have been different within the first couple of weeks of you joining the Thousand Sunny, he would have absolutely accepted any if not all of your romantic attention, you’re almost certain that if you tried to flirt with him now, it would have the sexual appeal of an elderly woman calling her grandson a handsome young man.
“Am I
” you pause, and this gets Sanji to look in your direction with a polite interest. His eyebrows raise, and you’re sheepish even saying it out loud, but you push through anyway.
“Unattractive?”
Sanji freezes for a moment, turns about face, and practically does a spit-take in his laughter. Then looking back at you, realizing you’re not joking at all, but rather have turned stiff with a stony downcast expression.
“Oh shit, you’re serious.”
Your face nearly burns as hot as the stovetop.
“You know what, fucking forget it.” You turn to storm off, but Sanji calls after you.
“What on earth would make you think that?” he asks.
There’s no way to explain to a notorious skirt-chaser that his diminished interest in chasing your particular skirt concerns you, particularly when you are neither craving of this particular attention really, nor interested in him in that way. But rather, you wonder if it portends some 
 suboptimal quality in you, something that makes it such that the true object of your affections will similarly lose interest
 if they develop any in the first place.
You wonder if you should bother responding at all, but insist on ignoring your misgivings. The power of this crew is its ability to trust, whether the issue is big or small.
“Okay, well you treat me differently from Robin and Nami.”
Sanji pauses for a moment and blinks. His head tilts for a moment, and you find yourself looking away, gritting your teeth. How embarrassing.
“Well, you are different.” Sanji replies simply.
Lead sinks into your belly. You shouldn’t have asked.
“Right.”
Your throat suddenly dry, you go ahead and grab your pitcher of electrolyte solution and pour out glasses for the crew, considering that maybe you should down it instead.
It’s the equivalent of making a pass at him, but that’s not it, is it?
Sanji somehow manages to pick up on it too.
“Maybe you aren’t that different from them, a flower of your own unique sort just like Nami and Robin-”
“You don’t have to-”
Sanji laughs.
“Well, Luffy thinks that you’re different.”
You pause for a moment, then pivot. 
“So Luffy is the one who’s convinced you I’m not worth flirting with?” It’s meant as a joke but Sanji stuns you with his next words.
“No, rather, I suspect Luffy wants you all to himself.”
To that, your heart skips a beat, and Sanji clearly catches it, not bothering to hide his amusement.
“He won’t say it, probably hasn’t realized it yet, but I can tell. And of course, realistically it doesn’t stop me from appreciating you.” The statement is accented with a chuckle. “But I’m just trying to be considerate.”
Your mouth opens then closes, then you quickly change the subject.
“The food’s burning.”
Sanji doesn’t even turn to look.
“Fat chance.”
Sanji doesn’t mess up meals. You stick your tongue out at him instead, gather up your pitcher and leave the room, and he starts to whistle, as he finishes the rest of the meal and you contend with your own confusing feelings.
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aramynx · 2 days ago
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SECRETS SOFTLY SPOKEN
TOUYA TODOROKI X READER
summary: you’re out on the balcony with touya as he lights up a cigarette, standing in a tense silence until one of you decides to break it.
a/n: soft touya is sending me through a loop !!
⋆.àłƒàż”.đ–„” ʁ ˖*:ïœ„àŒ„ ⋆.àłƒàż”.đ–„” ʁ ˖*:ïœ„àŒ„ ⋆.àłƒàż”.đ–„” ʁ ˖*:ïœ„àŒ„
Cool wind swept your hair from your face, pushing it behind you as your elbows rested on the cold metal railing of the balcony. The nights were beginning to get colder, more dreary and grey and bleak. The golden glow of the sun had already faded, leaving you with nothing but moonlight and the nonchalant presence of the man leaning on the railing beside you. A thick smoke surrounded you for a moment before it was swept away in the wind. Looking towards the source, you meet a pair of iridescent blue eyes, gleaming in the dim light of the moon.
“What?” He asked, tilting his head slightly as you stared, “‘f you’re expecting me to offer you one then don’t get your hopes up.”
“No, it stinks. Would it kill you to not blow it in my face for once, Touya?” You said, wafting the remaining smoke off into the night as it began to dissipate.
Touya shrugged, taking another drag from the cigarette between his fingers. This time, holding the smoke in as he spoke to you.
“What are you gonna do if I do it again?” He asked, turning towards you to purposefully blow a little of the smoke into your face before releasing the rest of it into the sky.
You sighed as he chuckled slightly, looking back out over the city. For a while, you remained in silence, taking in the silhouettes of buildings and skyscrapers, small boxes illuminated by apartment lights.
“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if your dad wasn’t such a dick to you?” You asked.
“No.”
“Maybe you’d have less attitude problems.”
“Shut up.” He sighed, a small smirk forming on his lips to hide the sadness he was beginning to feel. As quickly as it appeared, the smirk was gone, replaced with an expressionless gaze over the city, “What do you know anyway?”
“Enough to be able to tell that you do care what he thinks of you.” You say, smiling slightly at him as he rolls his eyes, staring off into the distance.
“Fuck.” He half chuckles, barely coping with the reality of the miserable, torturous life given to him, “Maybe it does matter to me, so what?”
“I dunno, maybe I just think it’d be a good idea for you to talk about it.” You meekly looked towards him, only for your eyes to meet his looking back at you.
“Oh yeah? To who?”
You rolled your eyes as he smirked at you, turning away from him, "Forget about it, then." You scoffed.
For a few moments you and Touya stood beside each other in silence, watching over the night that brought the city to an almost perfect stillness. Living the lives of criminals meant that nothing you ever did would be 'normal', whether you gave up on this lifestyle or not. Even so, you'd never imagined you'd end up here.
"You sure you want to work with the league?" Touya asked, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on the cold steel railing. "You'll never be able to have any semblance of a normal life after this. You won't have what everyone else gets to have..."
You looked up at his as his spoke, yet his eyes stayed focussed on something in the distance, where your own eyes soon wandered. The window of an apartment opposite the balcony- a young couple standing in their living room sharing a warm embrace with bright, hopeful smiles.
"Are you willing to give that up?" He asks. The question is vague, but you suspect he's referring to the happy sight in front of you.
"I don't know." You muttered, "I don't know what I want any more."
"Yeah. Me neither." Touya says softly, shuffling ever so slightly closer to you, "I don't even know what I'm missing out on. Never been in a real relationship before anyway."
"You're kidding, right?" You asked, looking over to him.
"Nope. People aren't interested in me. Even if I was a good person, I'm pretty gross-looking." Touya sighed, looking down at his scarred forearms and the accompanying staples embedded in his hands.
"I'm sure there's someone out there who finds you attractive." You reassured, doing your utmost to conceal your own opinions of his appearance. Sure, he's covered in severe burn scars, and his flesh is being held together by staples, but still, you find him to be incredibly attractive, “You’ve got some things going for you anyway.”
“Like what?” He smirked, “Do tell.”
“I don’t know, you’ve got a pretty good physique under that dumbass jacket, the piercings you have really add to your style, your eyes are otherwordly.” You admitted, “I bet you’d look really nice if you got all dressed up.”
“Oh yeah?” Touya’s eyes drifted over to you, where you were still looking over the city. “You’re pretty good-looking too.”
Maybe, he wondered. Maybe you could find some kind of normality in this place.
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cherrycheolkat · 1 day ago
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‱ hoodies and candy
feat. kim mingyu & choi seungcheol ‱
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.đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠčI ˚ .đ–„” ʁ ÖŽ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ
pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader x choi seungcheol
word count: 4.6k
genre: fluff, angst, f2l, friendship, college au, study buddy au, soccer player!mingyu , clumsy!mingyu, cute!mingyu, soccer player!seungcheol, implied poly
summary: mingyu left his hoodie at y/n's after studying until he passed out - he doesn't know why y/n is wearing it and refusing to give it back, especially when he knows she just took pity on him and his horrible grades and is basically tutoring him through his econ class - maybe if he hadn't been a jerk the year before and blown up everything between them, but here they are, and he really just wants his hoodie back
warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, implied poly relationship (throuple)
a/n: this changed as I wrote it, there should probably be a part 2 explaining seungcheol x reader
and maybe a part 3 were there’s some resolve..but this is what i have rn
♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, let me know
.đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ÖŽ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ
Mingyu sat up suddenly, his heart racing as he blinked sleep from his eyes because where was he, he wondered - he stared around the neat apartment trying to gather his bearings. His mouth was dry and tasted a bit gross - he knew he definitely wasn’t at home. He was on a couch though and there was a coffee table close by covered in textbooks. It clicked in his mind that he had been studying with y/n - fuck, he had been studying with y/n and had passed out - that was his best guess of the situation. 
Shit, he thought, he had been studying with y/n the night before and had been tired from weeks of insomnia and morning practices and of all the fucking places, he blinked slowly and was amazed that she hadn’t thrown water on him and kicked him out. 
He attempted to quietly grab all of his books and notes and laptop - if he had managed to go unnoticed for this long, he wanted it to stay this way. The last thing he needed was for her to stop helping him study for econ and his random ass poly sci class. 
She was literally the only reason he was making it through either of those classes. He blinked hard, trying to focus on which notes were his. He knew this was a cluster fuck, and god forbid she somehow didn’t know he was still there. He stopped and rubbed his face again before checking one more time that he had gotten his things and left everything else undisturbed.
He glanced around, hoping that she wasn’t like actually standing just out of view watching him make an ass of himself. The situation might be a bit better if he didn’t have the crush that he had - the one that he pretended he didn’t have because if he admitted it then all his teammates and friends would be right about what a fuck up he was - that he had fucked up everything with y/n almost immediately. 
He shook his head, this was not the time to dwell on that thought, he needed to pull himself together and stop mentally rehashing the same things. It had been like more than a year anyway, and he was lucky that she was even willing to talk to him. But after the first econ exam grades posted, he had swallowed his worries and asked for her help.
It hadn’t been easy either - she was busy packing up, talking to her seatmate, who also seemed to know what was going on and before he could even say anything, she had glanced up.
She had looked him over for a split second, “Hey, Gyu,” she leaned on the table with her face resting in her hand like she just knew he was going to ask something.
He could only hope that he didn’t flush the brightest shade of red, “Hey, uh,” he hated being nervous and stamming or speaking too fast, “can I talk to you?” he asked quietly, not wanting to announce to everyone that he was absolutely sucking ass in this class. 
She quirked an eyebrow at him but nodded, “Yeah, why not - I’m in a good mood,” he bit his lip wishing that that was some cryptic phrase, but he knew it wasn’t. The last time they had talked hadn’t been good and it had been late the previous fall when they met - and now he was talking to her after another fall semester had passed. Still, he nodded, he was fine with whatever she said.
He waited for her to grab her bag and wave to her friend who gave Mingyu a less than kind once over before glancing back at her with a skeptical look. Regardless, she turned back to him, “Come on then, I need to grab some coffee, assuming that works for you?” she asked, voice a bit sharp.
He nodded and tagged along as she crossed the lecture hall in easy, long strides. He wondered how it escaped him that she was also tall - not his height, but tall. And from behind he noticed the little wispy hairs that had escaped her ponytail and gently touched her neck. He chewed his lip lightly wondering how he had managed to tell her he wasn’t interested. But he had - he had looked at her and said he wasn’t into long term things, and they hadn’t talked after that. 
He could see the scene all too well in his memory - the way her easy smile had dropped away, and her face had hardened instead - the way she had nodded, and said ‘oh’. He regretted it the moment he had said it, but he had seen her phone when she had gone to the bathroom. He hadn’t meant to, but he had seen all the texts from some other guy asking her where she was - that he missed her. Mingyu could only guess that he was some rebound fuck, at best. It had hurt because they had gone out a few times, and he had been excited for her to stay over because his roommate was out of town. He had loved being alone with her and the way they had made out - he had thought maybe it was serious. 
He had just felt so dumb then, lying back on his bed, feeling her warmth slowly dissipating from the spot next to him - he felt dumb and upset, not really angry. She was out of his league to begin with. He knew that he was a bit of a dork, like naturally - dorky and clumsy. And she was beautiful and smart. He knew it was better if he just made up something and ended it before he really got carried away with his own happy thoughts of her. 
Besides, when she inevitably got back together with this other guy, she would just drop him anyway. So he was really just doing them both a favor by ending things where there were. He was surprised by her though, the way she had stared at him for a moment - the way she had looked like she wanted to say a lot more than she did - but she had just shaken her head and muttered something to herself as she got dressed and walked out of his room. 
He stayed in the rest of the weekend, feeling like absolute shit. Hoping that somehow it was her texting him every time his phone went off because maybe she would call his bluff and - he had stopped his thoughts there and decided he just needed to accept that he wasn’t for her - some guy named ‘Soonie’ was though. 
He moped around during his holiday break too, and even for a few days when the spring semester started, but then soccer practice had started in earnest and took up all of his brain power. The games had started in the fall, but the intense games were set for spring. The weird thing was, he had been certain that he had seen her at some of the games. He knew there wasn’t a ‘Soonie’ on the team though, so he had never really figured that part out, and he tried not to dwell on it.
But now he had successfully made it out of her apartment and back to his own to shower. He really hoped that she somehow hadn’t noticed him sleeping in her living room, but he knew that was ridiculously unlikely, which meant that she had just let him sleep there. He pressed his forehead against the cool tile remembering one terrible fact - he had woken up with a blanket. She knew, he thought, of course she knew, she had given him a blanket to sleep with - fuck - he was fucked, that was the only conclusion. And he had to show up to class too, he rolled his eyes at the thought.
He made it to class just in time - right as the professor was closing the door. He rushed to his seat and only after he was settled did he dare to glance over at her - she wasn’t paying attention. She was busy taking notes, but he noticed what she was wearing. He choked on air, coughing and making a few people stare for a moment, but he didn’t care, y/n was wearing his hoodie.
It took him a moment to regain his composure, or what was left of it because his mind was whirring - why was she wearing his hoodie, he wondered. He couldn’t pay attention during class. And when there was a break, he started after her, planning to ask for it back, he guessed - he didn’t know what his fucking plan was. But she had already left the room. He whined quietly, feeling foolish and exposed.
But when he turned around her seatmate was there, “Looking for something?” he asked, voice acidic.
Mingyu started to shake his head but the seatmate suddenly held up his phone and it was a picture of Mingyu asleep on her couch - he swallowed hard and reached for the phone, only for the guy to yank it away.
He smiled, “You’re lucky she still thinks you’re cute - I told her to kick you out, like any other trash,” he finished and turned to walk away.
Mingyu felt like he had been smacked - some random guy was calling him ‘trash’ and he had Mingyu’s photo - he was suddenly feeling all his nerves hit at once. He tried to breathe through the anxiety, even though he could feel his heart pounding. He jumped when he felt someone touch his arm - her.
He couldn’t even make eye contact. He could feel all the panic rising and washing over him like a wave. He didn’t exactly know what happened next, but he knew he was suddenly in the bathroom dry heaving.
He didn’t care about his grades anymore. He had only made it back to his room because Seungcheol had shown up with his inhaler. And he had gone into Mingyu’s class and collected his bag, saving Mingyu the immediate embarrassment of returning to class.
He found himself lying on his couch, the tv playing lightly in the background while Seungcheol played some game. Mingyu knew Seungcheol was there to keep him company and make sure he didn’t lose it again. He didn’t ask what was wrong or what happened. He just stayed close and ordered food for them.
It was the next morning before Mingyu even realized he didn’t have his phone. He heard his alarm and immediate grumbling from Seungcheol as he turned it off. Mingyu imagined going to grab his phone, but he had the annoying feeling that that would cost him something - probably an explanation. He decided he was okay without it.
He curled into himself and went back to sleep, only waking up again when Seungcheol woke him, “Seriously, please fucking answer her - she’s driving me insane,” he dropped Mingyu’s phone onto his stomach.
Mingyu groaned and rolled over, not sure who “her” was. He vaguely wondered if maybe it was his Mom or something.
He didn’t think about it again until that night, when he went to eat with Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua.
He had slept most of the day. And according to Joshua, he was required to shower and change clothes if he was going out with them - he couldn’t look “depressed and shit” because it was “killing the vibes.” He didn’t mind cleaning up, but he sometimes found Joshua’s bluntness annoying.
He showered and changed into loose fitting black pants and a black tee. He pulled on his high tops and a jean jacket as he walked outside to meet the other guys. He was quiet as they walked along, barely speaking until they were in the restaurant and he had to place his order for food and a drink.
He still felt like shit, so he started with beer. He had had several when he felt his phone buzzing. He had been ignoring it since Seungcheol gave it to him. But now it wasn’t a text, it was the call screen. He practically threw it off the table trying to silence it completely.
When he glanced up, he realized Seungcheol was watching him, “Did you ever answer?” He asked in that nonchalant way he had.
Mingyu knew him well enough to know he was interested, and he had probably told Jeonghan and Joshua since both were suddenly very quiet - they were all waiting.
He shrugged, “I’m not in the mood,” he imagined he sounded serious.
But that idea was quickly shattered as Joshua finally took over, “So what happened anyway?” He sipped his drink like it was the most normal question.
Mingyu rolled his eyes, “I’m sure you already know,” he glanced at Seungcheol, knowing he was a traitor.
Jeonghan spoke up, “No, actually, none of us know why you had a panic attack in the middle of your class,” he spoke softly - for once he didn’t appear to be teasing.
Joshua coughed, “Well, that’s not exactly true,” and he unlocked his phone to show a group chat that included the picture Mingyu had seen the day before - him falling asleep at y/n’s. There he was slumped over, cheek pressed to his textbook, and a dark green blanket tossed over him.
He glanced quickly and noticed the sender was ‘Soonie’, with the message “did you actually say he’s cute.” Mingyu saw the message underneath from y/n saying “yes, he’s cute - what about it???” and asking if she should wake him. Apparently, no one thought she should, at least in the gc.
Again, Mingyu just shrugged, “She’s helping me with econ. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he huffed.
Joshua sighed, “You have to know it’s not the falling asleep part,” he glanced at Mingyu in a judgmental way, “It’s what happened in your class, when you saw her and uhm absolutely lost your shit,” he smiled sweetly as he said the last part.
Mingyu rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well I wasn’t expecting to have someone shove that photo in my face and tell me how she should have kicked me out, okay?” He knew he was talking way too fast, “and I wasn’t expecting her to come to class wearing my hoodie either - I just wanted to ask for it back,” he went back to sipping his drink.
Seungcheol was still watching him, “She’s been texting since your class yesterday - I had to force you to take your phone because I couldn’t handle any more texts asking if you’re okay or not,” he swirled his drink, avoiding eye contact as he added fuel to the fire.
Mingyu was quick, “You could have just answered that I was fine,” he shot back.
Seungcheol snorted, “I’m not answering the texts you want to avoid, especially from y/n,” he finished.
“What does that mean? Especially from y/n,” he quipped back, feeling insulted for some reason.
He saw the collective eye rolling from the other three, but it was Joshua who responded, “Because we all know something happened between you two - you were all cute and disgustingly sweet and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, even mentioning you around her was like setting off a bomb,” he was staring at Mingyu as he spoke.
“I don’t think we were all that cute” —
Joshua and Jeonghan cut him off with groans, talking over one another to tell Mingyu just how cute and gross he and y/n had been the year before.
The thing that made it through clearly was the reminder that before anything, Mingyu had the habit of giving y/n back hugs at parties. He knew they were notorious for being beer pong partners, but even if they were just waiting to play, he had the habit of pulling her close against him.
He shook his head, “It wasn’t like that,” he didn’t care what history they were throwing at him.
Joshua laughed, “Dude, we all watched you - you were like attached,” he laughed again, “just admit you’re down that bad, it’s not the end of the world - I mean, she’s hot, either admit you’re still into her or say you’re over her so at least Seungcheol can take a shot,” he giggled softly.
Mingyu was quick to look at Seungcheol - he could feel the heat come into his cheeks.
Seungcheol’s eyes widened, “Dude!” He was fast to call Joshua out, “I’ve literally never said I’m into her,” he had the look of pre-rage-Seungcheol - his eyes were wide and his normal cuteness was gone. He was glaring daggers at Joshua.
“You’ve never really had to say it though, have you?” Jeonghan asked in a whisper, giggling with Joshua.
Mingyu felt his mouth go all dry at once. It had never crossed his mind that anyone else was into her, well not any of his friends at least. But it suddenly made sense why she would have come to some of their soccer games. She was into Seungcheol.
Mingyu blinked slowly, and nodded, “Yeah, look I’m going to head home,” he knew he sounded weird. But it didn’t matter.
He was up and out the door before any of them could say anything. He was almost out of earshot when he heard Seungcheol’s sudden outburst of “why the fuck would you tell him that?” He had left money on the table. He didn’t care what happened.
He planned to go home, but there was a text that caught his eye. Caroline. They had a bunch of classes together. They talked at parties. She was hot. Seungcheol could have y/n all to himself, and Mingyu could move on.
[caro 21:07]
hey come save me from boring party talk plzzzzzzz
He nodded to himself. Yes, a distraction was what he needed. He silently thanked her as he typed a fast response.
[mingyu 21:08]
sure but where am I going??
She sent him the address. He asked the driver to change his destination.
He was glad he had showered and made a small effort to get dressed. The party was loud. But he found Caroline easily enough - she was hard to miss if he were honest. She was quick to hug him, pressing close to thank him for showing up. He just nodded, not in the mood to yell over music and other voices.
She wound quickly through various rooms before going upstairs. He almost pulled back, but then again, he wondered why he bothered - he wasn’t seeing anyone.
She pulled him along to a door, but it was odd when she knocked on the door. He watched the door crack open and heard the soft, “Caro, I’m not really in the mood,” from inside.
Caro leaned against the door to say something in a hushed tone. Mingyu thought about leaving, but he felt the tight grip on his arm. He was maybe a bit slow in realizing Caroline had no intention of letting him slip away without a good reason, looking at her hand, he could only assume the acceptable reason was maybe the house being on fire.
He found himself being pushed through the doorway, “Look, you two need to chat for like ten minutes at the very least and if that’s too much, then okay, fine - you’re maybe the most stubborn people to exist,” she had shoved Mingyu inside the room and closed the door by the time she finished her sentence.
He glanced to see he was in a bedroom, not one he knew. And there was y/n sitting on the floor. He was almost annoyed.
She was dressed for the party. She was always cute, but he liked her tendency towards jeans and slightly boyish tops that she managed to make very girlie - like the little collared sweater she was wearing and the fact that he could see through the thin knit to the lace bralette beneath.
She glanced at him for a moment and sighed, “I guess you didn’t die,” she rolled her eyes and looked anywhere but at him.
He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing he kind of deserved a bit of attitude. He sat down across from her and swallowed, waiting for her to at least look at him. He was glad he at least had a beer.
She glanced his way after a few moments of quiet. She watched him for a minute or two, and then she moved all at once to be in his lap. Her arms encircled his neck. He couldn’t help but breathe in the scent he had been missing. His heart immediately beat faster.
He felt her fingertip trace against his lower lip, “What did I do?” Her voice was so soft.
He stared for a moment, “I’m just a rebound,” he saw the immediate confusion on her face.
She almost laughed, “Rebound from who?”
He gently loosened her hands from his neck, “Soonie,” he felt like it was obvious.
“Soonyoung?” She sounded immediately baffled, “What are you talking about?”
“I saw his texts to you - ‘babe i miss you - you know i’m jealous - come home,” he mimicked.
She laughed, and immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, “Holy shit, seriously - that’s why you went all ‘I don’t like long term’ on me?”
She was staring at him. He flushed, “It seems like a real reason to me,” he couldn’t understand why he felt dumb.
She glanced around for a moment like she was searching for the words she needed, “Gyu,” she paused, “Soonie is - Soonie and me?” She shook her head, “we would both rather die than, oh my god, that’s just how we talk!” She had grabbed his forearms, “it is not whatever you thought, okay - I swear,” she let go of him to cross herself for emphasis.
He flushed slightly, “Then who is he?”
“A close friend - like since childhood friend - he sits next to me in econ,” she waited for a moment, “trust me, it’s impossible for me to be his type,” she looked almost on the verge of tears.
Mingyu thought of the guy who seemed to hate him for no reason, “So a childhood friend who seems to absolutely hate me” —
She cut in, “Seriously, there’s nothing between us - we would literally kill each other,” she sounded intense now.
He shrugged, “Sounds like you’re just waiting to get together,” he wasn’t in the mood.
She stared at him for a long moment, “Trust me, there’s no waiting around for one another - we aren’t like that, like for one it would make things so weird since we’re step-siblings,” she made a terrible face, “not to mention it’s literally posted on our old school’s website where we got into a fight during a debate club meeting - they had to drag us off stage,” she was less imploring, but still close, watching him as he absorbed what she was saying.
Mingyu wasn’t sure what to think. He believed her. He would have probably believed her without the explanation, if he were honest. But it didn’t change the way he felt. It didn’t change the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him he had wasted time.
She stared at him, waiting. The quiet stretched out between them. She sighed, “Do you want me to call him? You can see pictures of our family?” She offered before sighing and crossing her arms. She looked defeated.
He was surprised when she suddenly stood up, “Okay, anyway, so I’ll see you around.”
He didn’t know what to say. He had carried the thought around for so long. He was going to come upstairs with someone else. He felt stuck.
He ran a hand through his hair, before glancing back, “Seungcheol likes you - he’s just been waiting around to figure out what’s wrong with me, I guess.”
He couldn’t see her face, “Ahah, uhm,” he could hear the pause, “thanks I guess,” he could hear the small tremble in her voice.
He closed his eyes, knowing what he wanted to do. But somehow he couldn’t make himself move. Instead, he silently wished for her to come back - he pleaded mentally for her to come back. He wanted to feel her arms around his neck again.
And then he heard himself, the deep, shaking sigh. He was sure she had slipped out the door and was already downstairs. He turned around to see her still standing, her back against the door.
She watched him, “Do you really want me to just leave?” She asked softly.
He shrugged.
She walked back to and gave him a small shove, “I’m here with you, and I’ve been waiting around, trying to to figure out what I did,” she whispered.
He shook his head, “You didn’t do anything, okay?” He was exhausted, “It’s my fault - I fucked everything up, and now I’m sitting here, knowing that I fucked everything up even more than I originally thought, okay? It’s even worse,” he pulled his knees close and hid his face.
He heard her scoff, “Do you think I would have even helped you if things were so impossible between us?”
He didn’t answer.
He felt her hand lightly on his head - she ran her fingers through his hair, “Look, come downstairs with me - be my beer pong partner and hug me close like you normally would, okay? Think of it as a re-do. We can re-do that night and the day after and leave out the misunderstanding - just pretend it’s not part of our timeline,” she whispered, pulling his hair gently.
He looked up at her. She reached down, smoothing his bangs, “Please,” she offered. He felt himself nodding. He wanted nothing more than to wipe away all the time he hadn’t been with her.
xx
He woke up the next morning wrapped around her. He pressed close, nuzzling her neck, kissing the sensitive, exposed skin. She was sleeping in his tshirt and her underwear.
He imagined dipping his hand down, under the delicate fabric of her panties to tease her clit and her pussy. But he heard the soft snore, the one that wasn’t from her. It was the one from Seungcheol.
Mingyu was curled around y/n, and y/n was curled around Seungcheol.
Mingyu chewed his lip lightly, knowing it wasn’t worth it to upset the balance right now. Especially when he barely wanted to acknowledge there was a balance to maintain. He pressed closer to her, knowing now that she hadn’t needed him to tell her anything about how Seungcheol felt - she knew perfectly well. He sighed gently, wondering how he had set this all in motion.
.đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ ˖֮ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠčI ˚ .đ–„” ʁ ÖŽ àŁȘ⚝₊ âŠč˚ .đ–„” ʁ
a/n: i started writing this last year and just found it in my drafts - i think i originally imagined this as a sick fic but tbh it went off the rails in a not fun way, and it still maybe does go off the rails, but idk gyucheol x reader seems fun so why not
tell me if you want the seungcheol pov..better! should they be rivals??? or throuple sandwich..or throuple who doesn’t acknowledge it - y/n just yk makes plans with them equally - they’re adults - no one is jealous ;-;
♡ kat
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