#net bingos
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01432853 · 10 months ago
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@asiandramanet jan/feb creator bingo — layout:
REN XIN
[ template by x ]
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infinitelystrangemachinex · 14 days ago
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Ready for season 2 babes
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lbibliophile-sw · 1 year ago
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Breaking Habits
Also on AO3 @whumptober-archive - day 1: safety net, day 22: "watch out", vehicular accident @clonefandomevents - Haunted Clones week & 501st bingo - day 1: time loop
They say that it can take as little as 21 rotations to build a habit.
Rex doesn’t know just how many weeks he was trapped in the loop – he lost count somewhere after the 30th morning of waking up in the Coruscant barracks. Yet eventually he found the combination: he saved Fives, made the Jedi listen, defeated the Sith.
But then there is the aftermath. For all that he had been desperate to unravel the mystery, the routine had become familiar, comforting, safe. Details fading into the background as he focused on each variable.
Now… People aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Conversations take unfamiliar turns. Someone moved ‘his’ caf-mug from the shelf. Things change without his input, and it leaves him wrong-footed and unsure.
The first time he leaves the barracks After, only Jesse’s reflexes keep him from being run over by a speeder-truck. Rex didn’t check, because this intersection is always clear. Rex didn’t react fast enough, because dying just meant waking up.
He has to remind himself that consequences linger; people remember and injuries take time to heal. He has to relearn how to accept uncertainty.
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hermioneismyrealname · 9 months ago
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There is something about James leaving and Net staying on that is bittersweet. It feels right in a heartbreaking way. James is doing it for himself and Net respects that. Net isnt waiting because he is an actor and this is what he wants to do. It is a new challenge that I cannot wait to support them through.
I, personally saw this coming around new years. Then it just felt even more so at valentine's. I got suspcious when james was in the zomvivor trailer but not at the blessing ceremony.
I was waiting for the series. I will still wait because that's what a fan does. I hope to be able to see them both grow without each other and hopefully not apart from each other. It's a shame, but perhaps they will find even more happiness.
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witchyleehibernates-fics · 20 days ago
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Tough Cookie Conversations
Summary:
“I was thinking cookies,” is how Cherry greeted her as Marcia walked into the kitchen. Marcia blinked before nodding, noting that Cherry was dressed in her pajamas and on one of the kitchen table chairs was her school bag, so Marcia could guess that Cherry was staying the night. “What kind? Did you bring a recipe?” Marcia asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, a smile appearing onto her face. She had a box of recipes and she knew that only she held the recipe card for Cherry’s favorite cookies. “Could we make those peanut butter ones?” Cherry asked, “I think I remembered most of its ingredients this time!” Cherry was staring at her hopefully, hands grasped in front of her as she sort of twisted in place. Marcia laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go grab that recipe, and then we can bake.” Cherry squealed excitedly as Marcia pushed off the doorframe. Marcia made sure to stop in the living room to put away her homework, which her and Cherry would probably do later when the cookies were refrigerating, and to put her blanket back in her room.
Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marcia and Cherry do some baking to have a hard conversation,
Characters: Marcia, Sherri "Cherry" Valance
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 1,304
Status: Complete
Fanfic Links:
|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||
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Marcia sighed to herself as she ran a brush through her hair, a mental debate occurring within her about whether or not she was going to try and reach out to Two-Bit. The damn greaser was stuck in her thoughts and she had yet to find something, anything, to get him out. She was becoming unusually quiet and withdrawn with her friends, and it was clear that they were beginning to truly notice. Some of them were beginning to worry, and Marcia wasn’t one to let someone worry about her when there was nothing wrong…
But could she honestly say that there was nothing wrong?
She was constantly stuck in thought, deep thought, that had her wondering about herself, about her appearance, about the people around her, and about a damn greaser that went by the name Two-Bit. She had tried to pretend nothing was wrong whenever Cherry had asked her if she was okay.
She knew that Cherry didn’t believe her whenever she said she was fine.
She sighed, putting her brush down and turning to grab a blanket before moving to go downstairs to sit by the phone. Her homework was in her bag downstairs, and she had every intent of finishing it while she waited.
He wasn’t going to call, but she would wait anyway.
“Marcia? Sherri’s here to see you.” Marcia blinked, looking up and around her in slight confusion. It took her a second to realize that she’d fallen asleep, and she sighed as she stretched, looking over at her mother who was watching her, vague amusement and concern on her face.
“Cherry’s here?” Marcia asked in confusion, blinking as she pushed herself up, quickly catching the book they were reading for English and bookmarking it to set aside. Her blanket fell to the floor in a heap and she promised herself to pick it up later. She had to see why Cherry was here first.
Marcia wasn’t surprised to find Cherry in the kitchen, nor was she entirely phased by the shopping bag that was on the counter beside her. When they were younger, and Marcia had been allowed to start baking with only slight supervision, they were often found in the kitchen baking away their feelings that they had decided were too overwhelming for them. It had become their thing whenever they had ‘big emotion’ conversations that they had been ignoring.
“I was thinking cookies,” is how Cherry greeted her as Marcia walked into the kitchen. Marcia blinked before nodding, noting that Cherry was dressed in her pajamas and on one of the kitchen table chairs was her school bag, so Marcia could guess that Cherry was staying the night.
“What kind? Did you bring a recipe?” Marcia asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, a smile appearing onto her face. She had a box of recipes and she knew that only she held the recipe card for Cherry’s favorite cookies.
“Could we make those peanut butter ones?” Cherry asked, “I think I remembered most of its ingredients this time!” Cherry was staring at her hopefully, hands grasped in front of her as she sort of twisted in place. Marcia laughed lightly and nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll go grab that recipe, and then we can bake.” Cherry squealed excitedly as Marcia pushed off the doorframe. Marcia made sure to stop in the living room to put away her homework, which her and Cherry would probably do later when the cookies were refrigerating, and to put her blanket back in her room.
“So…” Marcia tilted her head as she started rolling out their cookie dough. Cherry was sitting at the kitchen table behind her, still idly working on her English essay that was due the next day. Marcia’s was done and already packed away, her math and science homework being the last two things she needed to get done, but she also really wanted to roll out cookies because she was beginning to get a craving for them. “What’s been bothering you lately?”
Marcia sighed, setting aside the rolling pin as she reached for the star cookie cutter. She wanted the maximum amount of stars for this roll out before it was Cherry’s turn, and she would no doubt choose the heart.
“Nothing’s-”
“Marcia.” Marcia’s mouth clicked shut. “Don’t lie to me. It’s just us.” Marcia had gotten three stars onto her cookie pan.
“Two-Bit hasn’t called.” Marcia sighed, taking a moment to fiddle with her cookie cutter as she placed a fourth star onto her cookie sheet. “I know it was a long shot, but I thought he liked me, you know? Thought that maybe… maybe that there could have been a chance.” There was a moment where Marcia thought that she shouldn’t have told Cherry, before there was a sigh.
“Sometimes I think about that night too,” Cherry uttered. This was new to Marcia, who thought that Cherry had always tried to forget that night at the drive in never happened. That was a defining difference between the two of them; it made people wonder how the two of them had been such good friends for so long.
Cherry was always looking forward, looking ahead with this master plan of leaving Tulsa one day. Making a name for herself, either in the rodeo or in whatever job field she chose. She wanted to change people’s minds on women.
And Marcia was always stuck on the past. Reliving memories to see what could have changed, or maybe if there had been signs of someone’s true character. She often spent so long in the past it left her scrambling to catch up to everyone else.
It was why her and Cherry got along so well, they balanced each other out. At least, that’s what Marcia’s mother had always said; Marcia would start thinking too much of the past, and Cherry would remind her to look ahead. Cherry would look too far ahead and Marcia would pull her back to the present.
“What do you think about?” Marcia asked.
“About Dallas. About Bob. About that poor boy, Johnny. About Ponyboy sometimes.” Cherry sighed. “Ponyboy’s struggling in school, and it’s like their group closed up tight after… after everything.” Cherry’s voice sounded thick, like she was holding back tears.
Marcia didn’t blame her.
It didn’t make sense to Marcia, for Cherry to think about that night ever. The drive in. Dallas Winston hitting on her. A near miss of a fight between Two-Bit and Pony, and Randy and Bob… Waking up the next morning to Bob… To Bob being dead.
Marcia glanced down at her stars, she hadn’t even noticed that she was nearly out of dough, having been using the cookie cutter as she tried to think of why Cherry would have been thinking of that night so much.
“I think about Two-Bit. And-and how the guys jumped him… and how I just watched.” Marcia uttered, and there was a sharp breath from Cherry. “He was probably right to not call…”
“Marcie, no,” Cherry sounded heartbroken, but Marica shrugged as if she was shrugging Cherry off. “Do you want a hug? Do… Do you need a hug right now?” Cherry asked. “I could use a hug right now, and I think it would be beneficial for you too.”
She set her cookie cutter down, turning and opening her arms towards Cherry, and it took Marcia a moment to realize she was crying. Cherry was quick to jump up and the two girls hugged tightly, ignoring the oven not even preheated yet and the dough that was soon going to get too warm and they would have to refrigerate it again.
Marcia hadn’t realized how much she had needed a hug until now.
She closed her eyes and squeezed a little tighter, ignoring the ache in her heart.
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spritehouse · 1 year ago
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Prompts: Take my Hand | @badthingshappenbingo Safety Net | @whumptober
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid Characters: Luke Alvez (Criminal Minds), Spencer Reid Additional Tags: Whump, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Whumptober 2023, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Gunshot Wounds, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, Drunk Driving, Car Accidents, Mentioned Emily Prentiss, Mentioned Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Hurt Luke Alvez, Luke Alvez needs a hug, Good Partner Spencer Reid, Escapism, Veteran Luke Alvez, Mentioned Penelope Garcia, Suicide Notes Series: Part 2 of ShortMC's Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:
“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?” Yes, every day of his damn life. He dreams about it—dying—how he’d do it. When he was young—a kid—it was his mother’s medication of one of his father’s razors. When he got his license, it was crashing his car. When he was with her, it was drinking too much, a knife, or her hands—his note is etched into his brain, apologizing to his family and explaining everything, giving the money he has since spent on alcohol to his little sister, some drafts beginning to explain what his ex did to him before he scraps them.
- or, an luke has spent his life walking a tightrope, wondering it it would be easier to let himself fall
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artfulacrostic · 1 year ago
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whumptober begins!!
flying headfirst into fate
Dick let go. He'd fallen farther before, he was sure, but in the moment, as his grapple gun snagged on one of his gloves and sent him tipping sideways, he couldn't remember when.
OR: Five times in Dick Grayson's life that there was no safety net, and one time that there was.
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Whumptober 2023 Day No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net
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01432853 · 11 months ago
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@asiandramanet  jan/feb creator bingo — black and white:
Ning Yuanzhou
[ insp. by x / tutorial by x ]
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bestfluteninja · 7 months ago
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yay flunk day :)
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shuadotcom · 1 year ago
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Main Dish | HJS (M)
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☐ Summary: When lunch ends up being inedible, Joshua has to pick something else to eat.
☐ Pairing: Joshua x Afab!Reader
☐ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, established relationship!au, absolutely porn without plot
☐ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
☐ Warnings: Profanity, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, honey, good girl), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting
☐ Words: 3.2k
☐ Note: This fic is brought to you by my lack of cooking skills and my insatiable need for Joshua. It was also written for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Bon Voyage Bingo event! The bingo square/prompt for this fic is camping.
Thank you @horanghater for being my beta ily 🥰
☐ Net Tag: @kflixnet
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“Please don’t go off, please don’t go off, please do-”
BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEP
“Goddamnit!” Working as fast as possible, you grab the pan from the hot stove top, removing it from the heat. The blare of the smoke detector rings out through the apartment and you have to act quickly to open all the nearby windows, waving away the smoke in the air with the dish towel. 
Once the smoke mostly clears and the alarms have subsided, you survey the scene in front of you. Grumbling in frustration you eye the now burnt tofu on the stovetop and let out a disappointed sigh. You had just wanted to cook something fun and new for your boyfriend. He’s been camping with his friends for the past week and you figure he would appreciate a home-cooked meal but, as usually happens with you in the kitchen, it turned out to be a disaster. 
You weren’t a cook by any means, but you knew how to get by with very basic skills. Boiling eggs, making stove-top ramen, and using the air fryer slash toaster oven you had begged for on your last birthday. 
All of the essentials of cooking. 
Tonight, the plan was originally to try a new pan-fried tofu recipe you saw on TikTok because it looked yummy. Instead of looking like the wonderfully golden-fried nuggets that they were supposed to resemble, all that sits in the pan in front of you now are uneven little pieces of charcoal. 
Great. Wonderful. Amazing.
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, gnawing at a hangnail in distress, you didn’t even take notice of your boyfriend watching you from the entrance of the room, admiring how cute you looked in your little lounge clothes and apron. His entrance had been drowned out by the blaring of the smoke alarms.
“Don’t chew on your nails, honey, it’s not good for you.”
Joshua’s voice is much louder than the music you are playing from your phone on the counter and you nearly leap into the air when you hear him.
“Jesus, Shua! You scared the shit out of me!” Clutching your chest, you reach over and pause the sound from your phone.
He chuckles as he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a hug. 
“Sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it.” He apologizes, but the smirk on his face shows he’s not really that sorry.
Joshua places a kiss and your waiting lips and your annoyance at being jump-scared fades. He smells like outside and a little bit like sweat, but underneath that, he still has his usual warm, homey scent that belongs only to him.
You let him take your breath away a little while longer, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. He rests his head against yours when you pull away, his eyes tired but still sparkling down at you.
“How was your guys' camping trip?”
“Well, Mingyu found a spider in his tent and tore the whole thing down trying to get out, Soonyoung got sunburnt and fell into the lake, and Vernon forgot his allergy medicine and spent all week sneezing.”
“So the usual shenanigans?”
With a chuckle, Joshua nods, looking you up and down. “Basically, but I’m having a much better time now that I’m back here with you.” He leans down to kiss your forehead and you still let yourself get flustered by his sweet words, even after three years together. “And what’s going on in here?” He asks when he finally pulls away, eyes looking over your head at the charred remains of your lunch.
“Nothing, just me fucking up in the kitchen again.” Pouting, you cross your arms, wincing as Joshua steps up to the counter, inspecting what’s remaining of the tofu.
“Ah baby, they don’t look that bad…” He uses the chopsticks you left nearby to poke at a piece, raising it to his face and sniffing it.
“Shua, don’t-” Before you can stop him, he pops it into his mouth, chewing extra slowly. Your boyfriend, always so sweet to you and considerate of your feelings, looks like he’s in physical pain as he crunches the food, his nose wrinkling with each shift of his jaw. With a sigh you walk over and grab a sheet of paper towel, holding it up to his mouth. “Spit it out.”
“It doesn’t taste terrible…” he mumbles between chews, eyebrows furrowing as he does.
“Joshua, just spit it out!” At your insistence he does, expression apologetic.
Joshua watches you take the rest of the tofu and throw it away, shoulders slumping in defeat. He moves across the kitchen to stand behind you, wrapping you in his arms. 
“Don’t be upset, baby. It’s just some tofu.”
“But I fucked up lunch for you! I just wanted to make you a homemade meal since you’ve been eating over a campfire all week.” Joshua coos at you, pulling you tighter against him.
“Aw, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all this in the first place. I think we both know that you would’ve been better off ordering something. There’s a reason I do most of the cooking, remember?” He laughs, his tone teasing.
Gasping, you spin in his hold, round eyes staring up at him as you pout for what feels like the twentieth time tonight. “Joshie, are you saying I can’t cook?!”
Faltering, Joshua’s eyes dart back and forth, strategically planning his next words. 
“I - I didn’t mean that you can’t cook, Y/n. I just -”
“I’m kidding, Shua. Of course, I know I can’t cook.” He’s clearly relieved, rolling his eyes at your giggles. 
Joshua leans down to pepper your face with kisses, holding you close, ignoring your feeble attempt to escape his grasp.
“I guess it’s a good thing then that I wasn’t even thinking about what I’d eat for lunch.” He places a final kiss on your cheek before pulling back to gaze at you.
“You weren’t?”
“Of course not. How could I even begin to think about lunch when all I could think about was tasting you again?” Joshua smirks at you, laughing when you scoff, your turn to roll your eyes at him.
“How did I know you wouldn’t even be a little bit subtle about wanting to have sex as soon as you got back?” 
“Because you know how addicted I am to you and how much I think about you.” You and Joshua are chest to chest, his hands tracing your body, fingertips pressing lightly into your curves.
Joshua’s voice has already lowered an octave, eyes flickering to your lips. You’re in no way surprised at how quickly Joshua turned the situation from silly and domestic to horny, but you’re not bothered in the slightest, more than happy to fuck your boyfriend again. A week has been far too long of a time to go without Joshua’s cock inside of you.
“Oh, so you were thinking of me on your trip? Thought you’d be too busy grilling meat and playing games with the boys.” 
“Baby, I’m always thinking about you, but especially when we’re not together.” Joshua ducks down, his nose brushing yours. 
“And what about me were you thinking about exactly?” You whisper, holding your breath as you await his next words.
“Well, I was thinking all about how sweet your cunt is and how I couldn’t wait to come home and devour you.”
Somehow you hadn’t registered that Joshua walked you back until the counter pressed into your lower back, trapping you between it and Joshua’s firm body.
“Hmm…then I guess lunch is served whenever you’re ready to eat,” Tilting your head up, your lips brush against Joshua’s. You shift your leg forward, knee brushing against the crotch of his sweatpants. A grunt slips out of him when you make contact with his half-hard cock and he surges forward, lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. 
Joshua’s soft lips move against yours, his hands cupping your face to keep you close. Your hands trail up Joshua’s thick arms, tracing every ridge and dip of muscle. You’ve never been shy about how much you enjoy the new gym rat era he and a few of his friends have entered, making sure to be very obvious about the way you appreciate the new muscle he’s worked on gaining. He also doesn’t hide just how much he loves how the bulkier version of him turns you on, your boyfriend flexing for you so the muscles tense and loosen a few times under your fingertips.
Those same strong arms move to hold your waist, holding onto you as he swallows every pant and tiny whine that you let out. Joshua’s tongue wraps around yours and sucks, the kiss descending into lewd territory as Joshua grinds against your thigh still wedged between his legs.
The kiss feels like it goes on forever, which is in no way a complaint. Joshua’s hands wander all over your body, hands skating down to grab at your bare thighs and up to your ass, grabbing a handful to bring your hips impossibly closer. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, feeling your cotton panties clinging to you with each shuffle of the fabric. 
Joshua seems to read your mind as he finally moves a hand under your apron and into the waistband of your shorts and panties, his finger grazing your pussy making you jolt and buck into his hand.
“Would you look at that? You’re fucking drenched just from my kisses?” To illustrate his point, he pulls his fingers from your shorts, holding the wet digits up to showcase your juices to you both.
“Fuck, yeah, I need you so badly. I missed you so much.”
Joshua hums, popping his fingers into his mouth, eyes closing as he sucks them clean, savoring your flavor. The scene is enough to have you rubbing your thighs together, easily recalling just how good his tongue feels when it’s on you.
“Mmm, I missed you too, baby. And speaking of, I’m starving, so I think I’m ready to eat now.”
Joshua plants his hands on your hips and turns you around so his front is pressed against your back, walking with you out of the kitchen and around to the island, leaving kisses on the back of your neck as you go. When you reach the side of the island that you usually sit to eat at, Joshua’s nimble fingers untie your apron and lift it over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your shorts and panties come next as he slides the fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.
Your boyfriend makes a sound of appreciation at the sight of your bare ass, big hands squeezing your cheeks before landing a firm smack on one of them. He helps you up onto the island, sitting you near the edge. Joshua pulls up a stool in front of you, spreading your legs wide, and letting out a low whistle.
“Look at all of this, so messy and sloppy all for me.” Joshua leans forward and places kisses on the inside of your thighs, inhaling your scent as he does, small moans rumbling in his throat.
A few whimpers slip out of you with each kiss over your hot skin, Joshua’s breath hitting your core only serving to make you wetter. Joshua loves eating you out, always talking about how good you taste and how much he loves the way you smell when you’re dripping for him.
He doesn’t leave you waiting for long this time (another thing Joshua loves is to tease you, but he seems to want you bad enough to spare you this time) as his tongue finally licks at your clit, the muscle flattening and adding much-needed pressure. 
A squeal of Joshua’s name tumbles out of you as he licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit - once, twice, three times, each go making you twitch underneath him. Your legs almost snap shut, but his firm grip keeps them open.
“Nuh-uh, keep your legs open, baby girl. I haven’t even started eating my meal.”
Your eyes stay trained on him as his hands grab the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you. You lie on your back in a more comfortable position, hands trembling as they hold onto the front of your shirt in anticipation.
“I’ll never get tired of eating you out, you know that? Never get tired of how fucking sweet you taste on my tongue.” To further his point, Joshua’s thick tongue slips into your pussy, lapping at your gummy walls, letting his nose brush against your clit.
“F-fuck!” Your hands dart down, fingers threading through his brunette strands, tugging at the root as he tongue fucks you on the kitchen island. 
Every grunt and groan that Joshua lets out is deep, deep enough that the vibrations can be felt throughout your whole body. You can’t help but thrash underneath him, loud obscene slurping sounds fill the room as he works. Joshua’s hands keep your thighs pinned down, preventing you from nearly falling off the counter while his face presses closer to your cunt. 
He eats you out like a man starved, a week without your pussy proving to be much too long away for him. The tip of his tongue is still buried inside of you, flicking at your walls at an almost impossible speed. 
Fire begins to quickly pool in the pit of your stomach, nails digging into Joshua’s scalp which only spurs him on more.
“Shua, b-baby so good!”
“Mmph?” You can’t quite hear what he says but it sounds like it has a questioning tilt at the end.
“‘M gonna cum!”
That must’ve been what he was getting at because he picks up the pace and moves his hold on you to the sides of your thighs and makes you wrap your legs around his head. Joshua uses this new angle to force you to rock your hips against his face, leaning into you so far that when you glance down, all you see is the top of his hair which you’re still holding onto for dear life. 
Rolling your hips you go with his movement, desperately riding his face. Joshua lets you, his tongue drilling into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
When you do cum, you stiffen almost painfully as heat spreads through your body, your thighs squeezing around him like a vice, holding him in place. Your boyfriend happily continues lapping at your sensitive core, murmurs of praise accompanying his coos of delight.
“So fucking tasty,” Joshua sighs as he pulls back, finally taking in air through his mouth. He glances at you, watching your chest heave as you catch your breath. Without a second thought, with your hole still clenching around nothing, Joshua shoves one of his thick fingers into you, drawing a gasp out of you. 
“Shua!?”
He has the audacity to blink up at you, faux innocence on his face along with your juices still shining on the bottom half of his face.
“What? I want seconds.” He shrugs, adding a second finger which has you cursing, senses on overdrive. Joshua’s plush lips are back on your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth, ignoring the way your nails dig into his hair again, tugging on his soft locks. 
“Ngh, Josh-Joshua! Please!”
“Please what, baby?” He mumbles, lips still suckling on your clit, your legs quivering as they rest on his shoulders. His fingers have no trouble finding that soft squishy spot inside of you that has your eyes crossing, the squelching sound of your wetness ringing in your ears.
“I’m - I just…” You trail off when your boyfriend curls his fingers, the overstimulation derailing your train of thought as you feel another orgasm hurdling toward you. Joshua smirks up at you, loving the way he can literally watch as your brain short-circuits for him - because of him.
His lips go back to your clit, suctioning around the bud. His fingers delve into you faster, your velvety walls hugging his digits, coating them in more of your sticky arousal. Sweat beads at your hairline and tears prick your eyes as Joshua throws you into another orgasm, electricity coursing through your veins and a choked, desperate cry of Joshua’s name tumbling from your lips. 
“Yeah, just like that, good girl.” He purrs against your overworked pussy, slowly dragging his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, only for the sound to be replaced by a loud wail, Joshua’s slick fingers rubbing rough, frantic circles against your clit. 
“Shit! Fuck, Shua I’m - fuuuck!”
“Come on baby girl, one more. Make a mess all over the fucking counter.” The pads of his fingers drag against your clit, body arching as you flail your hands, scrambling across the marble of the counter looking for something to ground you.
The sensation borders on painful, the sensitivity too much to handle as the pleasure builds and your muscles spasm. When you cum this time, it knocks the wind out of you, your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Joshua leans down, eyes watching with glee as you squirt all over his hand and arm, getting your mixture of arousal on his shirt. He even cranes his head down, mouth open to drink up the remaining spurts of your release.
He rubs lazy circles over your puffy clit, letting you ride out the rest of your orgasm until your hoarse voice begs him to stop and he does, but not before wiping up as much of your wetness as he can on his fingers and popping them into his mouth once again.
“Fucking hell, Shua!” You huff out when you’ve finally sucked enough air back into your lungs.
“What? I told you I was starving.” His cocky grin earns him a half-hearted kick to his shoulder using the minuscule amount of energy you have remaining. He catches your leg, placing a soft kiss on your ankle before he straightens up and sits back to admire your ruined state.
“Are you going to help me up or leave me here for the rest of the day?” 
“I should eat all of my meals in the kitchen, but I suppose I can help you down.” Joshua laughs at your half-hearted threat to kick him again and offers his hands to you. He helps you sit upright and slowly slides you off of the island. 
When you’re back on shaky feet, you move to pick your bottoms up, but he stops you by pulling you against him.
“Wh-”
“Oh, you don’t need those. I’m gonna order some lunch for us, but I need dessert before it gets here.” He presses his hips forward, his rock-hard dick pressing against your ass. Joshua once again envelops you in his warm embrace, lips skirting against the shell of your ear. “That okay with you, baby?”
Between the orgasms he pushed out of you only minutes ago and the dip in his voice, wetness collects between your legs again, pussy clenching at the thought of Joshua fucking you for real.
“That’s more than okay with me,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “I’m feeling pretty empty myself and am dying to be stuffed.”
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kooki914 · 7 months ago
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I'm beginning to go through severe Deltarune withdrawal, so I made this handy dandy template everyone can use to make predictions! Both for things they WANT to see, as well as things they DON'T want to see (if there's any unpopular opinions you have about prev chapters, this is the place to air it out LMAOO)
I included the blank image above, but if you're working in something like paint it might help to instead get the version with a background, or if you prefer, I have layered versions for Photoshop and Paint dot net as well!
If you use this template, feel free to @ me here on tumblr so I can see your own cards, and please don't erase my name from the title or anything like that, just add your own where the "Y/N" at the bottom is. Oh, and I made custom stamps for using the bingo when the time inevitably comes.
Happy bingo making!
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wondroustailsofffxiv · 1 year ago
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There is a re-occurring quest of sorts in Final Fantasy XIV called ‘Wondrous Tails’, and it is given to you in Idyllshire by a young Miqo’te named Khloe Aliapoh. Specifically, she gives you an empty journal and asks you to write down the stories of your past and future adventures so that she can share them with everyone she meets!
By re-completing past content, you can earn stickers in order to make lines across a card in a style similar to bingo, with each finished line netting all sorts of prizes once the journal is turned in. In much the same way, ‘Wondrous Tails of FFXIV’ is a multi-month event that utilizes a prompt-filled bingo card format in order to encourage participants to tell the stories in an environment with minimal restrictions and maximum possibilities.
This event is open to both visual and written media, and anyone that participates with at least one valid entry is entered for a raffle that takes place after the end of the event. However, participants do not need to worry about raffle entries or its few restrictions if all they'd like to do is take part and have fun!
> The next iteration of Wondrous Tails of FFXIV will start on March 15th and end on June 15th! <
For more information about the event, start/end dates and whatnot, please check out the links found below!
About | FAQ | Rules | Bingo Card Template | AO3 | Carrd | Picker Wheel Links
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channieskies · 1 month ago
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𝕴: 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊
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Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)
Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy
AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU
Word count: 3408 [Reading time: 14 Minutes ]
Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society
Synopsis: Discouraged after a breakup and eviction. You return home to New Orleans just to find out the life you have been living has been a lie. Maybe all those scary stories your grandmother told you as a child were indeed true.
CHAPTER INDEX
You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 
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A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.
Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.
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If anyone asked you how life was going, you in turn would have to reply, “Fuck my life! This is complete and utter bullshit.” The large eviction notice sitting on your apartment door in bright red letters, set your face aflame for many reasons. One; Embarrassment. Two; Disbelief. Three; Now you were fucking homeless. The only evidence of your two years of living here was scattered amongst trash in the hallway. A few of your nosier neighbors stood outside their doors to watch the dismantling of your life (and quite possibly your mental health) unfold in the sweltering heat of the swampy Louisiana summer. “Fuck, where the hell do I go..” You asked yourself under your breath. Being homeless was not on this year's bingo card.
Sweat trickled down your neck, a bead slowly making its way down the center of your back. Your nerves were frazzled. You pat your pocket for a cigarette, just to be reminded that you didn’t have any, it was just an old habit you couldn’t shake. You heaved a heavy sigh and picked up what was left of your life -a few boxes of clothes and the picture of you and your mother and did the walk of shame down the long open corridor. Aside from the other two boxes you needed to get, this would be one of the last times you’d get to walk this oh so familiar hall. But maybe it would be a good thing that you didn’t live here anymore. So many of the memories here were shared between you and your ex here. so. Maybe you could escape the constant reminders of what used to be.
Some of the neighbors that peeked out the doors gave you sympathetic smiles but one woman hid her child's face from you so that they wouldn’t know what failure looked like, at least that's what you felt like to you. The lady you regarded as your apartment grandma, just shook her head as she tsked at you and that hurt almost as much as being put out of the place you called your home. The walk to your old beat up car felt like the longest mile. This must be what it feels like to be given the death penalty. Doom. Dred. 
This was an actual existential crisis. Where did you go from here? What do you do? What other choices do you have but to travel back to the place you thought you’d long left behind? That was your dilemma now. The box weighed heavy in your arms, making it feel as if you were trudging through sludge on the way to your car; or that could have just been your shoes actually melting against the blacktop. Who knows?
You could certainly feel the heat from the asphalt through the hole in your five dollar, bargain bin, walmart sandals as you put the lone box on the roof of your hatchback. Sighing, you traced your fingers over the dented roof of your rust colored 1982 ford fiesta. Life has been kicking your ass these last few months. First, you went through the biggest breakup of your life. Two years of wasted time, spent with a man who did nothing but lie, cheat, gaslight, and isolate you from the people you loved the most. He was a dick and you were better off without him, all but financially. You depended on his half of the rent, because the cost of living, even in this piss poor, podunk town with a population just over five-thousand, was astronomically high. Even living here in a motel turned into an apartment, if you could even call it that, was out of your budget by almost six hundred dollars. You fucking shared a kitchen with all the other apartments, for some fucking reason there was no elevator, and yet rent couldn’t be reasonable? 
Second, you'd lost your job. According to your boss, two flat tires wasn't an excuse not to get to work on time. You barely made it through the door before he promptly fired you and sent you on your way. You scooped ice cream. It wasn’t like you were doing life saving surgery or nurturing the young minds of the future. There was no need to fire the best employee they had, just because you couldn’t get there on time. You had a spotless attendance record other than that. For fucks sake! You’d shown up sick (masked up), and worked through it. And when your grandfather died, you showed up to work and took the almost three hour drive home to be with your mother after the fact. But missing two hours of work for your tires to be changed? That was the breaking point? You hated this god-forsaken town and its dumb as fuck residents. The sun felt like it had beef with you today too, much like your landlord, ex, and former boss, it was beating down on you relentlessly. “Fuck, dude, do I owe you money too?” You cast your gaze towards the sky, asking it a question like it had the balls to answer it.
“No. Well- at least I don’t think you do.” Your body tensed at the voice that spoke a few feet away from where you stood. You knew it, all too well in fact. It belonged to one of the people that you loved the most, but pushed away for your scumbag of an ex. You hadn’t seen him around these parts in a while, even though he had been frequenting the town long before you moved there. It was like he felt you were in distress deep down and decided to show up. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case. You didn’t dare turn around, feeling the sorrow overtake you, even if you could hear the smile in his warm voice. 
“But you do owe me an explanation. If that counts.” 
Your shoulders dropped, you knew he was right. You put your best smile on and turned around to greet him. You could fake happiness for a few minutes. You’d been doing it for months now, what were a few more moments? Your eyes nearly bugged out your head, it has been a few months, but did people change that drastically? Have you changed that drastically?
“Chr- what? Loo-Look at you.” You couldn’t contain the shock you felt seeing his appearance. He had always been muscular, but never this buff. He was always on the lean side, always athletic, now it looked like he could lift your car with you and your boxes in it. He wasn't any taller, but he's filled out tremendously since the last time you saw him at your grandfather's funeral almost a year ago. “Ho-how?” 
There was no reason to ask if he'd been working out, it was pretty obvious half his free time was spent in the gym somewhere and the other in the tattoo parlor. He’d gone from someone who only had thoughts of getting a tattoo, to someone whose arms were completely covered in them. You stood there awkwardly gawking at the man, unsure of if it was appropriate to hug your old friend or not. Or if this was even your old friend or not, his face was the same, but everything else seemed like he body swapped with someone with a bit more edge to them. He was far from the goody-two-shoes, curly-haired, dimpled, student athlete you’d met at freshman orientation.
He laughed, tossing the two boxes you left upstairs next to the other  on your roof before enveloping you in a hug that warmed you from the outside in. It was too hot to be this close, sharing body heat, but somehow you didn't mind since it was him. 
“I've missed you.” He squeezed you so tight you felt like you might pop. You had forgotten how much comfort you'd get from hugging your best friend. He was the epitome of a warm home with the fireplace burning. He always smelled of ginger and sea water, like a day on the beach with fruity spritzers somewhere in the sunny land of Australia that he hailed from. One thing you never forgot about Chris was how he had the kindest eyes that contrasted perfectly with his large nose and equally pouty lips making his face uniquely his. No one looked or smelled like Chris to you. He was him, no one else compared.
You were suspended in his arms for what felt like forever. Only the tips on your toes were planted on the ground as he held you tightly to his body. He only decided to put you down when you cleared your throat out of awkwardness. He chuckled lightly, the sound of it rumbling in your chest as he gently sat you back down. 
“It's been a while.. hasn't it?” you mumbled. Why were you being so weird about this? Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. Why the hell would you even say something stupid like that? Of course it had been a while. It was your fault you lost contact in the first place. He tried for months to get a hold of you, but you dodged him and his attempts to get you. Your ex justified you cutting your college best friend off with "I don't like the way he looks at you. It's like he could and would eat you up. Then he looks at me like he wants to kill me.” Looking back at it now, it was probably for good reason. Chris always had a good read on people, your ex was now included in that.
“A while? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?” He raised an eyebrow. He had gone from someone you saw damn near everyday to this being the first time you'd seen him in almost a year. Pushing away your refuge and comfort person was the biggest mistake you'd made in this life, besides dating any of your scuzzball exes of course. “A year, give or take a few weeks maybe. It's been almost a year since we've last seen each other.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you, “But all that matters is where we go from here, yeah? I would love to be petty and say that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me, but since you no longer have a place to stay that isn’t your moms…let's start off a new chapter.” 
He cleared his throat and took a step back from you. His shadow casted over you, giving you some relief from the scorching summer sun. A gentle breeze blew past, sweeping his seaside scent over your senses, transporting you to a better time and place where all of your time was spent in the comfort of his presence. He made you feel at peace, even if you knew your life had gone to complete shit over the last year. He made you forget about all your misfortunes. 
“Hi, I'm Christopher. I wanted to offer you a helping hand, since you have all these boxes. Would you like me to help you put them in your car?” 
You giggled, it felt like the first time you'd met him all over again. His accent sounded just as thick, his eyes shining just as bright, his smile just as warm as it was all those years ago. You dotted your forehead with the back of your arm in an attempt to get at least some of the sweat off, then rubbed it on your ripped jeans. You extended your hand, taking his much bigger one in yours. His hands were always so warm and this handshake was no exception. You slowly shook hands as if this was the first time you’d ever done so.
“It’s nice to meet you, Christopher. I’m Y/N.” You couldn’t help the smile that painted your face, maybe this was as good of time as any to start anew with your old friend. 
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“You mean to tell me, you want me to believe you gave up all that money and your corporate job, to… teach?” He laughed, his lopsided dimples showing as he stuffed a few fries in his mouth. He’d convinced you to go get lunch with him at some out of town diner. It was on the road back to New Orleans and right now you’d do anything to get out of this shithole you were currently occupying space in. Running into your ex wasn’t something you even wanted to think about, let alone do. It’d be best to go back home to where you came from. Then at least you wouldn’t be living in your car or going through the trash of places like this after closing looking for food. Plus, Chris was back home. What was a better incentive than that?
He leaned back in his seat, “Yeah. Not long after your grandpa’s funeral I did a few volunteer hours at this home for disadvantaged youth. That led to me traveling to a few different warring countries to help build shelters and teach the youth some valuable skills.” He shrugged, “I found out that I loved it. Helping to mold youth with my own hands. They are the future after all.” 
You rolled your eyes, there goes that goody-two-shoes act. He hadn’t changed as much as you thought. “I took a month off work to decide if that was really what I wanted to do, and the rest is history.” He sipped his strawberry milkshake before speaking again, “What about you? Huh?”
You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 
He nodded for you to continue. You chewed on your lip, fearing that honesty was going to make you seem far more pitiful than you were trying to let off. “Shit has been bad since I left New Orleans.” you paused to take a breath, feeling like the weight that had been dragging you down for over a year now was slowly being lifted off your shoulders. 
“I miss my mom, my friends, you…” You sighed, “I miss the city and all the shit we used to get into, the fucking food..” You had been pushing the food around on your plate for the last ten minutes, how the fuck did they mess up a club sandwich and fries? Plus your coke was flat and scarily see through. 
“I have to admit.. The food here used to be better.” His words sparked a memory. He did travel down to St. Martinville quite a lot back in college. You never knew the reason, it wasn’t like he had family here. “How about this- since this was my suggestion in the first place, I’ll pay for the bill..” He was going to do that in the first place, you knew him. Even if it had been a transformative year for him, he was still the same Christopher. “Then, when you get settled and back at home, you can treat me to a meal.” He leaned in as if he had a big secret to tell, “I still have a weak spot for your cooking, if you want to go that route and skip going out all together. That would also prevent me from purposely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu out of spite.” 
You laughed, appreciating his understanding of your current financial predicament. You had enough to get gas on your way back to New Orleans, but that was about it. There were moths in your bank account with how bare it was at this point.
“Cook you a meal? Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You agreed, almost too easily. “It’s been a while since I flexed in the kitchen, though. My boy-,” You sighed, you still hadn’t gotten used to saying what your relationship with that man was now that you were no longer together. “My ex didn’t like cajun or southern food very much. Truthfully, he didn’t like anything with seasoning or didn’t come from a fast food restaurant or out of a bag.” 
You started to play with the food on your plate once again as you recounted your experience, “Last time I cooked for him, he said it was too spicy and that I was trying to poison him. He got so angry he threw the plate and it dented the drywall. His issues are why I’m not getting anything back on that stupid deposit. That and my late rent..” You felt annoyed. Why had you put up with your ex and his foolishness? He was a paranoid man child with anger issues and you sat by and let him treat you poorly, expecting that one day he might change. He didn’t, he was incapable of doing that, it wasn’t in him.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s in the past and we will leave him there. You can get back to being the old you, find whatever parts of you that you feel went missing since you left town. You know I’ll have your back through it all.” Chris always had a way of lifting your spirits, making you feel as if everything could be alright, even if the current circumstances said otherwise. “It’s a long drive back home, you should get going.” He grabbed your hand over the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
“Wait- aren’t you coming back with me?” He shook his head, looking down at his hand on yours, thumb tracing patterns on your skin. He took a moment before he spoke as if thinking deeply about what he wanted to say before uttering a word.
“I have a few things here to take care of here and after that, I’ll be back. I won’t give you time to miss me, I promise.” 
You couldn’t help the shy smile that graced your face at his words. “I’ll just be here overnight and then I’m heading back.” He sat back again, fingers slowly slipping away from yours to rest on his lap. “That will give you time to settle back into your old room. You know your mom hasn’t touched it since you moved.” 
You chuckled, she was a sucker for nostalgia. If she felt that was a way to keep a part of her baby with her, then she could rightfully do that. “So come up with a meal plan. I’ll pick you up when I get back tomorrow and we can go grocery shopping and I’ll introduce you to my roommates.” Chris had been living alone the whole time you’d known him. It had something to do with his allergies or something of that nature. Why all of a sudden did he have roommates?
“Oh? Is this the same guy who didn’t want to live off campus with me because of ‘allergies?’ That you?” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders before looking you square in the eyes and answering. 
“Couldn’t shack up with the girl I like, now could I?” Did your heart just flutter? You shook it off. Brushing his comment off as just a flirty little joke. Christopher was a flirt, even if he’d vehemently deny it if you asked.
“Please.” You laughed, “The girl you liked? You must be referring to Suzy. Wait- no, Rebekkah with two ‘k's’.” You mocked the girl's annoyingly chipper voice while waving two fingers in the air like she used to when telling people how to spell her name. “Wait- no, not her either. What was her name? Oh Kimberly, the red head with the thick thighs and fat ass. You had the hots for her so bad you tripped over your own feet looking at her, not just once either. Didn’t you break your laptop like that?” His cheeks tinted with a soft shade of pink.
“You said you wouldn’t bring that back up!” He whined. This tattooed, buff, grown man just whined. And you couldn’t deny, it was cute as shit.
CHAPTER INDEX ⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER
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© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』
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mamawasatesttube · 8 months ago
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10 for timkon from my favorite timkon writer, please? if u have the time?
10. "I won't let you."
“Go away,” Kon pleads.
His voice is raw, his breath rasping in his throat; he’s crouched amid the rubble, hidden behind a half-demolished wall, all curled up with his knees tucked to his chest. He’s clutching his head so hard his knuckles are pale. Tim looks at him for a long moment, thinking.
If Kon really wanted to, he could push him away with a brush of TTK, could prevent him from taking a single step closer. But he’s too terrified of himself to even think about using his powers on Tim right now. It’s funny—just half an hour ago, before the attack started, he was laughing as he rotated Tim in the air (“See, Bart, it’s a ro-Tim-sserie! Get it?!”).
Tim steps closer. “No.”
Kon scrabbles backwards, his back hitting the dusty corner. “Get—get back! It’s not safe, Rob, please!”
“I’m perfectly safe here.” Tim keeps his voice level as he plops down on the ruined floor next to Kon. “It’s just you and me.”
Kon’s face twists with anguish. “Yeah, that’s the problem—I know you’re not this stupid! She—she tried to m-mind control me, and—and I barely fought it off! What if—if—”
He breaks off for a second, his chest heaving with barely-controlled panic. Tim’s heart aches, just from watching him.
“I could hurt you. Again. Or—or worse—Rob, you have to leave, because—because if I kill you I’ll never, ever forgive myself, I—I’d probably just k—”
“Kon-El.” A note of sternness creeps into Tim’s voice. It does the trick; Kon’s panicked rambles choke off before he finishes that sentence. They both know what he was going to say. “You’re not gonna hurt me.”
Kon’s eyes flick up to meet his, a flash of inhuman blue. All too quickly, though, they drop back to the dust-strewn floor, and Kon bites his lip. “…How’re you so certain?”
“Because,” Tim says, as though it’s simple. It is simple. “I won’t let you.”
Kon inhales sharply. A look of shock, then incredible relief smooths over his features, and he lets out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “You have kryptonite? God, Robbie, you shoulda led with that, I—it’s a lot easier knowing you could put me down if you have to—”
Tim whips around on him, glaring with the full force of his cowl. His friends joke about it, but the thing is pretty damn unsettling when he needs it to be. And right now, he needs it to be. “Put you down?” he hisses, horror rippling through his stomach and radiating all the way down his legs. “I would never.”
Stunned, Kon stares at him, lips slightly parted, eyes too bright. As Tim watches, his lower lip wobbles just a touch. “I… then what do you mean, you… you won’t let me?”
Oh, for the love of—
Tim reaches for him. Cups his face in his gloved hands, strokes his thumbs over Kon’s cheekbones, and pulls him closer. Presses their foreheads together, cups the back of Kon’s neck. Kon’s eyes are wide as he stares into Tim’s; Tim counts it as a victory that he doesn’t try to pull away.
“How did you fight the spell off earlier?” He rubs his thumb over the back of Kon’s neck, aching inside where it can’t show. Kon doesn’t understand just how precious he is. Maybe that’s Tim’s fault, for struggling to tell him out loud often enough. He’ll work on it.
Kon sucks in a breath. Bites his lip. He still doesn’t pull away. “I… thought really hard about… being my own person,” he finally mumbles. “And about—about what I fight for. What I wanna protect.”
“Bingo.” Tim smiles at him, pets his cheek. “And what do you want to protect? Wouldn’t having it right there make it easier to fight her off again, if she even got the chance to try?”
Kon’s eyes widen. He sucks in a breath, and his lower lip wobbles again. There’s a smear of dust on his cheek from Tim’s glove. Tim tenderly thumbs it away.
“Oh,” Kon whispers, and then—
A net of TTK wraps around Tim and hauls him into Kon’s lap, and then Kon’s arms wrap around his waist as Kon buries his face in his neck. Tim can feel him trembling.
There we go, Tim thinks, pleased. He cradles Kon’s head to himself, strokes the back of his neck again. “See?” he asks. “I told you. Perfectly safe.”
“You have got to stop ruining sweet moments by saying ‘I told you so,’” Kon mumbles into his neck.
Tim laughs, squeezing Kon’s shoulder. Just like that, he knows—his clone boy will be okay.  
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ghoularaki · 9 months ago
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baby's breath | 4
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↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.
↠ word count: 3,068
↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith
↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm
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The twinkling fairy lights were your only source of illumination in the otherwise dark room. After Erwin shut off the lights and left you to your own devices, you sat in the silence for who knows how long. Anxiety had your muscles twitching, antsy to do anything.
Blowing air out your nose, saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth from the gag. You didn’t care if it added more to whatever pain Levi promised, you reached behind you and fiddled with the belt. Your fingers caught on the tongue and pushed it forward until the gag loosened. Clutching onto the leather you ripped it away from your mouth. Stretching your jaw side to side, you tried to alleviate the soreness. Wiping the spit from your lips, you surveyed the crate.
Both men weren’t stupid and the crate was given a different lock so you couldn’t easily slide it open. Even then, only your fingers could make it through the wiring. Forgoing the order the stuffed animals were arranged in, you rifled through them to find something, anything, to pick the lock with. Your attempts were futile.
Desperation crawled at your throat. Twisting your body so you were leaning on your forearms, you used your heel to kick at the door. The door rattled, but besides that, did not budge. Erwin was sure to hear the noise, but chose to ignore you. It could have been hours since Levi left and Erwin quite literally kept you in the dark, so the need to escape grew. Levi’s threat still rang in your ears.
You weren’t going to go with your belly up.
Frustrated, you used both feet to kick the door. Grunts left your throat from the strain. You were quickly becoming exhausted. The toxin hadn’t completely left you and it has been days since you ate something. Your energy was depleting.
Tears pricked your eyes again. Anger at yourself consumed you as you screamed and kicked the door one last time. Fragile flesh was nothing against metal. Bruises started to form at the bottom of your feet. The room was quiet besides your stuttered breathing.
Giving up on escaping the crate, you looked around the rest of the room. A soft, yellowish glow spread through the space. Shadows that crept from the corners offered you little insight to what all the room had to offer. Squinting, you tried to make out if there were any vents you could possibly climb through. You found nothing.
There were the windows, but who knows if they could even unlock and the strength of the glass. If all the windows were bulletproof, you were screwed. The crate was placed too far from the window for you to even try to get to the locks.
Sitting on your knees, you look up at the canopy placed above the cage. The pink netted cloth was attached to the ceiling by a screwed in hook.
Bingo.
Just as you were about the slip your finger back through the wiring to tug on the canopy, you heard the front door open and slam shut followed by two hushed voices. Levi’s back home.
That anxiety came back tenfold. You were basically served to Levi on a silver platter. A part of you wanted to go back to your plan with the canopy, but time was limited and you rather not be caught trying to escape. Who knows what Levi was going to do right now, let alone with an escape attempt on top of it.
So you laid in wait. Waiting for the man to burst through the frame and get his revenge. God did you wish there was a clock in the room. The anticipation was getting to you and maybe that is exactly what he wanted. For you to torture yourself with hypotheticals.
You knew both men were still inside the house, their footsteps giving it away. From what you assumed, they were sticking to the kitchen, possibly making dinner. At the thought, your stomach rumbled.
As if he heard you, Erwin came into the room and flicked on the lights. Your pupils constricted. His form permeated through the space and suffocated you. Forced into a small cage only furthered his large stature. He walked further in. His face became more apparent the closer he got and that expression of disappointment was long gone.
Cold. The best word to describe Erwin would be cold. Not in the literal sense, but all the warmth had been drained from him like coffee left out for too long. You could still drink it, but any pleasantness evaporated. A blank slate stuck on his face.
His socked feet thundered towards you. No matter how much he tried, Erwin was not a man who could soften his steps. But he didn’t care: you weren’t a frail, feral animal to him. More likened to a misbehaving child.
Crouching down at the crate door, he still had a height advantage. The glare didn’t leave your face. Erwin wasn’t swayed.
“I see you took off the gag.”
You didn’t respond. You refused to give him what he wanted.
Erwin merely sighed. “The more you resist, the harder it will be for you.”
Of course he didn’t have an ounce of regret in him. In his eyes, he did what he had to protect you for the sake of his own ego. Knowing his attempts to reach a hand out for you would be disregarded, he unlocked the crate with a key. This one was smaller compared to the ones to the doors.
You forced yourself further into the crate. As much as you despised being in the small space, the knowledge Levi was waiting for you was worse. Having none of your stubborn behavior, Erwin gripped your wrist and tugged.
A grunt left you as you collapsed in front of him. With one hand on the floor and kneeling in front of him, you scowled from under your brows. He tugged you closer until you were nose to nose.
“For your own sake, behave.”
A part of you was tempted to bite him as well, but you knew you would surely be found in a landfill if you did. Keeping your teeth and words to yourself, you gave him a small nod.
Pulling himself up, Erwin didn’t let you go. His hand moved from your wrist to your nape. Softly, he massaged the tight area, but it offered no solace. You knew full well his hand was a temporary leash. A warning.
Your whole being shook. The want to beg and plead crawled up your esophagus. Maybe to tug on his heart strings and his need to protect you, convince him to shield you from the big bad wolf that is Levi, but it’s futile. You knew that well as whatever relationship those two had trumped Erwin’s rationality.
So like a lamb to the slaughter, you were dragged into the dining room. Sat at the right side of the table was Levi in all his glory. His face gave nothing away. On the table was an array of food, the plates and cutlery set picture perfectly.
“Where’s her gag?” Levi said. You looked down to see his hand was neatly wrapped.
“How do you expect her to eat with a gag on?” Erwin teased Levi, but the man found no amusement in the statement.
He clicked his tongue at that. Erwin was right, even though the darker part of Levi wanted you to starve.
Coming closer to the table, you noticed there were only two plates. Your brows furrowed in confusion. How were you expected to eat? Though your question was quickly answered when Erwin pulled the chair to the side. The metal plate on the floor, there was already a pair of handcuffs linked in the semi-circle welded into the steel.
Erwin’s hand drifted to your shoulder and pushed you onto the floor. Your knees cracked against the hardwood.
“What are you doing?” Panic caused your voice to pitch and crack.
Levi answered instead of Erwin, “Since you wanted to act like a shitty mutt, you will be treated as such until you can prove otherwise.”
The large man bent down with you under the table to lock you into the restraints. You attempted to pull your wrist from his grasp, but it did little. The cuffs were luckily padded and didn’t bite into your skin. With your still free hand you pushed against Erwin, but he easily grabbed it and threaded the leather until you were immobile.
“What the fuck!”
At both men’s feet, you were forced into a kneeling position. Your wrists were chained to the floor with about three inches of leeway. So no matter how much you tried to sit up straight, you could only hunch over. The plate faced the head of the table, but you could twist your body slightly away.
Testing the constraints, you tugged and tugged. Metal scraping together filled the room along with your labored breaths. Erwin hauled himself from the table. Back on his feet, you heard him rummaging through something and a wet slop of food being plopped on a dish. Water filling a container could also be heard.
Erwin popped back into view but this time with two metal bowls. One of them had rice with steamed vegetables, and the other had water. He placed them in front of you. He must be joking.
Your jaw ticked as you grinded your teeth together, “What the fuck is this.”
“Your food. Eat.”
The way the food was placed, you couldn’t kick it away from you like you wanted. “I’m not fucking eating like this!”
A whimper filled the room as Levi kicked you in the ribs. From your place, you couldn’t see his face. “Quit your yapping. Either eat or don’t, but if you starve it’s not our problem.”
Erwin offered nothing to Levi’s harsh words. Stewing in your own humiliation and anger, you heard both men pick up their forks and start eating. From your place you could smell their food which had an array of seasoning. Staring down at your own bowl, you glowered bitterly at your plain dinner.
Your stomach rumbled again reminding you of the neglected organ. Nausea wanted to creep up so with quivering lips you bent over to eat out of the bowl. Breathing shakingly out your nose, you ignored how your eyes stung. You were so sick of crying. Luckily, both men couldn’t see you make a fool of yourself.
Moving your head over, you stuck your tongue out to lap up the water. It would be more efficient to pucker your lips and suck it up, but the thought of them hearing the slurping noises was too much to handle. So in your own head, it took you a little too long to realize the socked foot brushing against your thigh.
Jumping, you departed from your food to watch Levi’s foot creep closer up your leg. You attempted to squirm away but he quickly used his other foot to press into your hip, immobilizing you completely. Watching in horror, he kept up with the movements.
“How’s the project going?” Levi asked, Erwin none the wiser to what was going on under the table. Of course they were going to talk about school now. Possibly to mock you.
There was silence, before the other man answered. “Not as smoothly as we would like. Some of the girls aren’t taking too kindly to the change.”
Huh?
“Reminds me of someone.”
Erwin chortled before covering it with a cough. You would have said something if it weren’t for Levi growing more bold. To dig in his words, the heel of his foot found your crotch. You smothered your groaned when he rubbed against your clothed slit.
Your food was long forgotten, barely half eaten. Dragging further up, his heel caught your clit and you weren’t able to bite back the whimper this time.
“Hush,” Levi commanded.
“As I was saying, our cargo hasn’t been as big as last month. Eld has been able to wrangle some girls into place, but who knows how long that will last.”
Levi clicked his tongue, “I will visit this weekend.”
Rubbing further, Levi didn’t slow down his strokes as you strangled to keep your noises in. Helplessness filled you. Any time you attempted to squirm away, he followed. There was only so much you could move in the constraints.
Wetness started to soak your panties and thin pajamas. Levi could surely feel it through his own sock. Unwillingly you bucked at his leisure pace. He didn’t want you to cum that’s for sure. This was to purely torment you.
Erwin spoke after another bite, “Let’s hope there won’t be a repeat of last time.”
“I agree. I fucking hate cleaning blood out of clothes. Shit always stains.”
You shivered at the words. He must have felt it as he pressed harder into your clit. You were completely pinned down. Despite the little stimulation, the want to cum washed over you. Another whine stuck in your throat. All you needed was a little bit more.
Right when you almost fell into him, Levi pulled away. Your hips spasmed at the lack of stimulation. Clenching your eyes closed, you slumped over and your forehead hit the cold floor. What the fuck was wrong with you?
“I can clean it up.” Levi spoke, a little more far away. He must have stood up.
“Are you sure?” Erwin asked, the floorboards creaked as he went to Levi. Mostly to take the plate from his grasp.
“Yes. Take her back to the crate.”
Plates clacked together above you and Erwin came back in view. Embarrassed, you clenched your thighs closed in fear a wet patch could be shown.
“You barely ate.”
“Not hungry,” You mumbled.
His thick brows pinched together, but he didn’t respond as he released you from the leather restraints. Grasping your upper arm, he tugged you from your kneeling position. Shuffling from under the table, you faced Erwin. That antsy feeling hasn’t left you. Levi half-hazardly stroking you under the table couldn’t be what he had in store.
Turning your head, you gazed at Levi who stood at the sink, flipping the faucet to run the plates under the water. The man locked eyes with you and your shoulders scrunched up at the intense glare. A promise deep in his grey irises.
Erwin directed you away from the man. Down the hall, you looked into the window in the corridor. Twilight swallowed the sky. Between the foliage, you saw how the neighbors flicked on their own lights. The home was a speck in the distance, but their lights radiated. If you saw them, they could see you.
A plan forming in your head, you go almost limp as you let Erwin drag you back to your prison. The man didn’t think much of your sluggish behavior as he shoved you in the crate. A tiny, gold key—the same as before—taken from his pocket, he locked you inside.
“I hate putting you in here.” He had the audacity to look worn.
“Then let me out.”
His forehead hit against the crate as his blue eyes engulfed your form. “We both know I can’t do that.” He lingered for a moment, before standing back up. “Goodnight, Princess.”
Just as earlier today, he flicked off the lights and left you alone. Back to square one. At least you weren’t wearing the damn gag. Glancing down, the offending item was gone. You were perplexed. When did they grab it?
Heaviness weighed down your bones. Yawning, you curled up into the stuffed animals. As a strange sleepiness took over your tendons, you gazed up at the canopy. The golden hook taunted you, but you needed to be patient. Eyelids drooping, you promised yourself to escape as soon as possible.
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A door creaking awoke you from your slumber. Discombobulated, you blearily glanced around. You were still in the crate. Blinking heavily, the whole room was shrouded with black. But that’s not what caught your attention.
Oh so sluggish, your eyes dragged to the door. The hallway light must have been turned on. Standing in the doorway was a figure blanketed in shadow. You sucked in harshly.
Your heart quivered and thumped at the innate reaction of being watched. From the stature alone it had to be Levi. Though, you couldn’t see his features at all. Somehow in the night, the fairy lights had turned off.
Levi didn’t move, not even when you noticed his presence. Weakly, you moved further into the crate, but it did little. Your body was at war with itself. That same heaviness still clung to your bones, but your heart rattled.
You struggled against yourself, terrified of what will happen if you fall back asleep. Dragging your hand to your face, you rubbed your eyes in hopes to alleviate your tiredness. Levi only stood there. As you crumpled in on yourself, he leaned against the frame, as if to take you all in.
He did love seeing you squirm.
The edges of your consciousness whittled away until the whole room swirled. Fighting against the sleepiness made you dizzy. Your vision swimmed. Sinking down, Levi stayed stagnant.
Whimpering, you sagged back into the stuffed animals. Their suffocating arms consumed you. Cotton and fluff choked you as you were dragged back to sleep. As the world caved in on itself, Levi didn’t leave the doorway. Watching.
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Gasping, you sputtered as freezing cold water entered your lungs. Your body spasmed as you scrambled to find your footing. You went to wipe the water from your eyes, but you couldn’t move your arms.
You tugged upwards, but your arms were tied tight behind your back. Your legs were also bound at the ankle with leather cuffs similar to the ones in the kitchen. From under you was concrete painted a darker shade of grey from the water. Blinking, the sun blared down at your confused eyes.
Frantically you looked around to see Levi standing above your form. On your side, you tugged yourself to kneel to be less vulnerable. In his hand was a hose. Droplets dripped onto the grass. You eyed the hose and then him. Adrenaline had overtaken your system, shaking from terror and the cold.
“You really think I was done with you, Pet?”
109 notes · View notes
all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 10 months ago
Text
Crazy, Stupid, Love
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.
Note: this happens in the begining of season one
Word Count: 9k
Pairing: Dean x F!Reader
Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing
Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo
A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!
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Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.
Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.
“Oh great, another one.”
That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.
It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.
“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”
Ugh.
Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?” 
A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.
Alone together.
-
There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.
All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.
And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.
“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”
It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.
At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.
Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…
He immediately rushed without thinking.
“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back. 
“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”
At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.
He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.
“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”
The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.
Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”
“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.
Dean was waiting for it.
The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown. 
“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor. 
He reached for the wound.
It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.
With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.
“Oh, you’re dead.” 
The rest happened quickly.
Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.
“Please stop…”
Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.
The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.
A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.
Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.
"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.
"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed. 
Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.
"Y/n-" 
"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?" 
"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.
"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.
"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"
The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.
"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.
"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.
"Why not?" 
Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"
Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.
"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.
In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"
Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.
"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."
Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."
Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.
"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"
"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."
"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"
"Oops!" 
-
The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.
About what happened.
It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.
The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.
A 67 chevy impala.
It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.
The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…
Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."
"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.
The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast. 
Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.
"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."
With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.
“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”
It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.
It was probably better that way.
Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.
“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”
“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”
"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”
“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”
As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.
"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”
It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.
“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."
Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.
“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”
Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.
“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.
“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.
For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.
And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.
Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.
“Have you had it long?”
She was still not looking at him. "What?"
“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.
“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.
“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.
"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...
He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-
“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”
A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”
-
The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.
Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.
Don't fall in love.
And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.
A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.
“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”
“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”
These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.
“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."
“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.
“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."
"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.
“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.
“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”
His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.
Obviously.
She was not special.
“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.
“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.
“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”
"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.
“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”
Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.
Dean refused to look at her anymore.
It was too much.
“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”
Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.
One.
Two.
One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.
Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.
No one tried to catch her.
-
“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”
"Oh." 
Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.
“Dean.”
“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.
“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”
Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.
Finally, Dean came out.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.
“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.
“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”
Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"
“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”
“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”
“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.
“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."
Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”
“She’s in love with me.”
Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."
"Oh."
“Do you like her back?”
At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”
A silence followed his words, but not for long.
“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”
“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.
“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.
Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."
“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”
This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”
“Okay, and then?”
"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”
He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.
"And?"
“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”
“Dean.”
Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.
“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”
At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”
To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.
“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”
-
Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.
And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.
It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.
"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”
After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.
Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.
Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.
“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.
“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.
“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.
“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”
An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.
There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-
“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.
“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.
“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.
Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”
Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.
“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”
“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”
This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.
Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.
“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”
“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.
“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.
“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”
Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.
“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”
“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"
“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”
Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.
The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.
“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of ​​being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.
A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.
“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.
“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”
“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.
-
“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”
The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.
Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.
“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”
“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”
“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”
Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?
Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.
“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”
“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.
“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”
“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”
“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.
She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.
“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”
“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”
Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”
A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?
“Your uncle… What's his name?”
“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”
“Y/n.”
“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”
“Bobby.”
It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”
“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.
“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”
“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.
“What? Something's wrong?”
“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”
“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.
“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.
“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”
“Not… Really?”
“Dean.”
Silence.
“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”
“Not really?”
“Dean!”
“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”
For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.
“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”
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