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#like Dean isn’t a terrible name or anything
pixydustworld · 1 year
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The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.
By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!
At 2:17 her motion was denied.
“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”
“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”
“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.
“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”
Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).
Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."
"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"
She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —
"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."
"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."
"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”
“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”
“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”
Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”
“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.
“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”
“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”
Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.
"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."
Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"
“Piss off, Malfoy.”
“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”
“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”
“You think I’m angelic?”
“No.”
"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"
"Shut up."
At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.
At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.
“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”
“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.
“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”
"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."
Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.
"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."
Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.
"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."
Then, he left.
“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”
Hermione threw a book at his head.
Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.
“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.
Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”
“Marry me instead.”
Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”
“I’m your best option.”
“I have many options —
“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”
“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”
“Alright then. Marry me.”
“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”
“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.
“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.
“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.
He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”
Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”
“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”
“Never?”
“Never.” She agreed.
He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”
“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”
He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.
“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.
Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.
“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”
“You truly want to help me?”
“I’ve only offered several times.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”
“Maybe I want you all to myself.”
Hermione's eye twitched.
"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."
She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.
"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."
She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.
Not him.
How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.
Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.
“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive.”
“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”
“Good thing we share an office.”
“I’m not easy to love.”
Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”
He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.
“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."
“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."
As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.
"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."
Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.
It was a small ceremony.
Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.
Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.
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startanewdream · 2 years
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The ink fell over the parchment. Ginny looked at the black dot with a frown before resting the quill. Words hadn’t come for the last ten minutes and she doubted she would feel inspiration any time soon to write back the letter.
And if there was something that Ginny hated was doing things because she was supposed to. She would write to Dean when she felt like it.
But without the letter to distract her, there wasn’t anything else. Not for the first time that week, she wished summer would be over already; at least at Hogwarts she would have things to distract her, and she would be far away from prying eyes—
“There you are,” a voice said, and she raised her head to meet Harry. He was grinning at her; his black hair was windswept as if he had just gone down from his broomstick—which he had, she realised, noticing the Firebolt that Harry let rest against the tree trunk. She couldn’t help but think that Harry should fly more; there was something charming in the way he looked afterwards, and he shone as if he were bringing all the warmth from the sun with him. Or, at least, the scent of his cologne when he sat next to her on the ground. “Not fancy flying today?”
Ginny shrugged.
“Hermione wasn’t up to it.”
“She never is.”
“I wasn’t either.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sick?” She shook her head, and Harry let out a breath, as if he had been truly concerned about her health; Ginny almost smiled with it. “Then—” He lifted his hands as if to get away from her. “There is only one explanation for that. You are not Ginny.”
The corner of her lips trembled. “Is that so?”
“I have everything figured out. Polyjuice Potion.”
“Oh, no, nobody grabbed any strand of my hair.”
“They might have taken while you were distracted—you lose a lot of hair, did you know that?”
“I do not!”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but—” He jerked forward, his hand running through the extension of her hair, fingertips brushing her face; she couldn’t help the goosebumps that arose on her skin, jumping to get away from him.
“Oh, sorry.” He looked suddenly embarrassed. “I just—look, hair?”
It came out more as a question than anything. Ginny looked down to see Harry was holding a few strands of her hair that had fallen from her head indeed. Her skin still felt too raw, but she forced herself to ignore this.
“Fine, maybe someone could have taken my hair,” she said placatingly. Harry breathed out evenly now, clearly glad that she wasn’t mad with him. “I guess you need to ask me the security question we previously agreed upon for situations like this.”
“Oh, that question,” Harry agreed, nodding with a fake somberness that almost made her laugh. “I remember the question, of course.”
“I’m waiting.”
“Oh, right—what’s your signature spell?”
“That’s a terrible question. Draco Malfoy could answer you this question, trust me.”
Harry smirked for a moment, as if imagining that scene. “Fair enough. Wait, let me think—at least there isn’t a pet secret name—”
“What—oh, no.” She threw him a sympathetic glance. “You heard Mum’s security question from Dad?”
Harry gulped. “Yeah, and I would trade anything in the world to forget it.”
“You and I, Harry, you and I.”
He smirked suddenly. “No fun of pet names, are you? Dean never called you Gin-Gin?”
“Only if he didn’t want a girlfriend anymore,” she snorted, eyes narrowed, which only made his smirk increase. “Ginny is all I can accept.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Ginny is already your name, that doesn’t count.”
Ginny sighed heavily. “No, it’s not, prat.”
“What is it then?”
“Ugh. It’s Ginevra.”
“Ginevra,” he repeated, the word sounding foreign in his voice as it always did when someone would say it aloud. “Ginevra,” he tried again, a smile curving up his lips now.
Annoyance flooded her. “I need to remind you I have a signature spell—”
Harry raised his hands in defence. “I wasn’t making fun of you! It’s—it’s nice, actually.”
“No, it’s not,” insisted Ginny. Harry was frowning now, not looking as if he agreed with her. “You still owe me a security question, come on.”
He mouthed her name once again, smiled once again, but relented. “Er—what did Fred and George send you before you started Hogwarts?”
She laughed with the memory. “A toilet seat. Mum confiscated it, though.”
“Madam Pomfrey confiscated mine, they tried sending me one also.”
“Repeating the same idea? Tsch tsch.”
Harry was still smiling; it was a nice smile, carefree and easy, the kind he has most favoured ever since coming to the Burrow. If anyone would ask her, Ginny would sincerely say that Harry was made to smile like that, without any gloomy cloud over his head.
If he had smiled in her presence like this, a few years ago, she’d have taken it as a sign of fate, certain that Harry was finally starting to reciprocate her feelings, and then—then Ginny would have done nothing, because she would blush and her ability to talk would be gone.
She sighed. She had moved on, and if Harry’s smile was a sign of anything, it was of how great they worked as friends.
“Ginny?”
She glanced back at him. The concern was back at Harry’s eyes, and she couldn’t help but notice how more attentive he was, especially to her; last year she had talked him down when he’d forgotten about her possession by Voldemort, unable to look past his own problems. In a way, Harry had really matured since then.
“What’s wrong?”
If they were friends — and they were, Ginny told herself sternly, just friends and she was glad about this, she was —, she knew like she ought to be honest with him.
“I’ve been feeling a little down since the letters from Hogwarts came,” she admitted, biting her lip.
“The booklist annoyed you?” he tried, looking at her to gather her reaction. Ginny gave him a small smile.
“No, not exactly. I’m just… a little disappointed, I guess.”
“Then—” He glanced at his broomstick, suddenly flustered. “You wanted to be Quidditch captain?”
Mortification filled her. “No, I mean, yes, someday, not—I knew you would be the captain, of course, it was you or Katie, there was no way it could be Kirke or Sloper, and Angelina and Alicia have graduated so the only reasonable choice was—”
“Ginny?”
She pressed her mouth shut for a moment. “I’m babbling, right?”
He nodded somberly. Ginny fought an urge to hide her face between her hands.
“Anyway, no quarrels about captainship, you truly deserve it.”
Harry frowned. “I didn’t even play last year.”
“You did, you won a match, and I told you that your ban would lift as soon as Umbridge was out.”
He tried for a smile. “I guess Professor McGonagall doesn’t care for Umbridge’s decrees.”
“No,” she agreed, but the mention to Professor McGonagall sent that doubt through her anyway. Harry probably saw in her face, for he sat closer, watching her intensely. He was really close, his pinky finger touching hers; it was only a brush, not really as if he was aiming to hold her hand, but Ginny felt warmth spreading through her cheeks anyway, and she found herself blurting out: “I’m upset over not being made a prefect.”
“Oh.”
He straightened his back, pushing himself a bit far from her; Ginny let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
“You wanted to be a prefect?”
“That’s it—no. Fred and George would tease me non-stop, it seems a bit boring from what I’ve seen from Percy and Ron, and I swear I can deal with Mum’s obvious disappointment, but also—Bill was one, so prefects can be cool, right? And I may get in a little trouble because of my temper, sure, and I’m not a perfect model student like Hermione, but then—”
“Then neither Ron nor Hermione have a clean record and yet they were both made prefects,” Harry finished for her with a strange smile.
“Yeah,” she agreed, a little baffled. “How did you know?”
“It’s what I thought last year,” admitted Harry. “I never knew whether I wanted to be prefect or not—never really thought about it—until I saw the letter and there was no badge for me.”
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
“It was one of the few things I didn’t yell about last year.” His attempt at self-depreciation was met with a hard unimpressed stare by Ginny. Harry shrugged. “I wouldn’t be a good prefect. I usually have… other things in mind."
"So you are okay with it now?"
"Yeah." Harry nodded, watching something she couldn’t. “It helped to find out that my father wasn’t one.”
“Well, Dad wasn’t either.” Ginny bit her lip for a moment, hesitating for a heartbeat. “From what Sirius told us, I got the idea that he and your father were like Fred and George.”
“That’s a good definition.”
She glanced at him; Harry looked wistful, but not unwilling to discuss the subject as he always seemed to be when Hermione mentioned Sirius around him.
“Pranks, detentions and just making everyone laugh?”
“A little bit, though I saw… I heard they could get a bit carried away sometimes. But they got over it, they became… better people.”
“So there is hope for Fred and George also?” she teased.
“They are not that bad.” Harry looked at his Firebolt for a moment, and Ginny suddenly remembered it had been Sirius who had gifted it to Harry. “He was a Quidditch player also. My dad, I mean. Sirius—Sirius once said I fly as well as my father did.”
“Well, Sirius always said you look just like him.” She smiled, waiting until Harry returned it. “Was he a Seeker also?”
“I—I know he played with a Snitch, but no, I never… I never asked—”
“That’s okay,” said Ginny reassuringly. “When we get back to school, we can search through the records.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Hermione we are planning to go to the library before school has ever started.”
Harry joined her conspiracy. “Only if you don’t tell Ron, he would never forgive me.”
Ginny laughed heartily. Harry’s eyes sparked as he watched her reaction, his fingers twitching as if he were refraining a movement.
“I think my dad would have liked to meet you,” he said, voice warm, and then there was a flush in his cheeks. “Not just you, I mean, Ron and Hermione, and certainly Fred and George.”
“They would be best pals,” agreed Ginny. “Mum might not approve, though.”
“She seems to be okay with the twins now.” He bit his lips. “Between us, they are the kind of example I wanna follow.”
“Fancy opening a joke shop?”
Harry laughed. “Maybe not, but they are doing what they love, right? They didn’t care about grades or badges at Hogwarts, and I guess it doesn’t really matter afterwards.”
“Hmmm.” She thought about it for a moment, strangely aware that Harry was watching her. “I’d rather be the girl sending toilet seats than forbidding others from doing it.”
He grinned, satisfied. “You and I both.”
They fell in silence then, but Ginny thought it was a nice silence then. For some reason, when she was with Harry, there never seemed to be any tension in the air, nothing heavy between them.
She let her gaze wander to the garden, enjoying the peacefulness of that summer day, and regretted ever wishing that the summer would end sooner.
“Do you wanna fly?” she asked.
Harry nodded eagerly. “Always.”
“Good. You better watch out. I might not want to be a prefect — but I'm setting my goals to steal your Captain badge next year."
Harry winked at her. “I will try my best."
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themainspoon · 4 months
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Just found out that I didn’t get into my Universities paid summer internship program, and I’m heartbroken. This would have let me work in the field I’m studying to be a part of, it would have let me get my name on an actual academic paper, it would have given me a ton of useful experience, and it would have allowed me to produce knowledge instead of simply receiving it (something I’ve wanted to do since the beginning of my first year). I have just missed a huge opportunity, and it feels terrible.
(Big long emotional self reflective post below. I don’t expect anybody to undergo the emotional labour of engaging with this post, this is mainly just me thinking out loud into/onto something. It isn’t really a rant or a vent, I’m not trying to blast my emotions at others so I can feel better, and I’m not just pointlessly rambling. However, this is all personal IRL stuff, you have no obligation to engage with it.)
Now I’m just kind of left with several months of nothing until the start of March next year. This also once again highlights one of my biggest personal issues, which is that the entirety of my self esteem is built upon my academic success. I do well, and in university I actually receive affirmation. My success actually gets noticed (unlike my experience in school), I have good relationships with my tutors and professors, and I seem to be well liked by most of them. I was directly told by my academic advisor that it will be tragic if I don’t continue onto a masters degree after completing my bachelors, and I’ve made it onto the deans merit list twice!
For the first time in my life I’ve felt like I have actual meaningful talent, like I have value. I’ve come to believe that I am actually intelligent! Back when I was younger if you asked me what my best qualities were I wouldn’t have been able to answer you. I was a neurodivergent kid who grew up in the world of the primary and secondary education system, who bounced between professionals and “professionals”, who lived under the control of the biomedical gaze, and who was only able to understand themself through the language of the medical discourses that defined me by my hardship and suffering. I grew up trapped within systems that only focused on what I couldn’t do.
And so when I found myself in a system in which what I COULD do was the focus. When I found myself not being defined by my inability, but instead affirmed for my ability, I began to develop an ego and some actual self esteem. However, the issue is that when your entire positive sense of self is built upon one thing, when that singular thing is challenged (as it just has been) it is not simply a piece of your positive self image that has been challenged, it is the entirety of your self worth that gets challenged.
I know I’m not stupid, I know the fact that I didn’t get selected doesn’t mean that I wasn’t good enough (just that somebody else was better suited for the position). But this still feels like failure, and the entirety of my self esteem rests on my lack of failure.
It reminds me with a discussion I had with my therapist in which we were talking about my self esteem, and she asked me what things I liked about myself. I told her that I like to think that I’m pretty smart, and that I do well in subjects that I care about. She accepted this, but then she threw me a curveball: “What else do you like about yourself? What else do you think you’re good at? What are the other pieces that form your positive self esteem?” I couldn’t answer her, I had nothing to say, because the answer was that there wasn’t anything else.
Right now I am experiencing the effects of building your entire self esteem upon a single factor. My advice? Don’t do that, because even the smallest challenge to that idea will deal significant emotional damage to you, and it feels like shit.
I don’t know what to do now, I feel like this should be a wakeup call for me to find other sources of self esteem, to find other ways to feel like I matter, to find other things I’m good at, to discover that I have value in other ways.
But I’ve spent the vast majority of my life feeling like I don’t, like I was an issue to be solved, being told to try harder, do better, work harder, I experienced life of never feeling like I was good enough. I know that everybody is supposed to have inherent value, and that I am supposedly good enough simply by being me, but on an emotional level I feel like I can’t accept that. It feels like toxic positivity bullshit, “love yourself!!1!” feels like unhelpful bullshit, because my self-love is conditional, and it always has been. How can I “love myself” when I have not earned my own love, when I do not deserve my own love? I am told to love myself, but I don’t, and I don’t want too.
Why would I?
I’ll be ok, I always end up being ok. It just fucking sucks to be reminded that you aren’t exactly a well adjusted person, and that you don’t know what to do about that.
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mayasdeluca · 2 years
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Lord I just saw the gifs with the conversation of Marina asking Jack, it’s just terrible, he’s gonna make claim, and the whole situation and his requests are fcking cringe, this ain’t gonna end well, we know it, they know it.
And we know he’s gonna be a boy
Let’s see how Danielle feels after they ruin it…
Also, his acting is so bad jfc it makes everything so much worse and unwatchable and now we are stuck forever with this trio, that’s so disrespectful and offensive, both for the storyline and the actresses that looks bad with his weird octopus arms and crazy uncoordinated jazz hands and squinting eyes, trying to play mysterious a la James Dean….no No no this is bad acting why whyyyyyyyyy they directors let him go fluid….smh
Acting coach anon here btw…if you missed me 😝
I hope they never gonna give them a menage a trois or move Jack into Marina apt cause they “may need help”, this is not looking goooooooooood nope nope nope
I can’t I just can’t…
It’s especially the way they did it for me, the endless sperm conversation that took all the Marina screen time ohi ohi awkward and so centered towards Jack, wtf thought was a good idea not just in term of the story but insert a subpar actor with two pretty amazing one in every scene, you can’t compare the caliber of talent and it become unbalance, he acts out and Danielle and Stefania have to compensate for his flamboyance…. I’ll stop here…
Yeah he’s already playing father and the sperm isn’t even out yet!
For me this is super triggering and uncomfortable as much as the assault storyline….
How they don’t see it’s beyond me…ugh
It is just me?
Anyway I hope you are well!
Acting coach anon!!! I did miss you! I hope you're well. I feel like people also asked you some things over the last few weeks/months but now I forgot D: but I'm glad you're back!
I'm glad to hear your thoughts on this mess because I totally agree haha. I was thinking the same thing, they're definitely going to make him a boy. And if by some chance Jack dies in the finale or at some point before the baby is born, of course they're going to name him Jack. But even the way Jack was talking about wanting to leave him a legacy or whatever I was like...oof. Definitely gonna make him a boy which is tragic. I want a mini Carina :( though the storyline is ruined anyway.
It's interesting because they had him say that he'll be "Uncle Jack" but he was very much also saying things that felt more than Uncle like. And he didn't even seem 100% that he wanted to donate? So I feel like that's also going to play a factor and then he's also going to end up using that as second guessing and realizing he probably wanted more than just an Uncle and I really just don't want any of this mess.
The acting really is something else and I feel like it's just getting worse and worse. It definitely never used to be like this or I would've noticed from the start so I just don't get why it's happening now. And especially in emotional or serious scenes like how do they just let him do that? They don't say anything to him??? It's so odd. I wonder if Danielle or Stefania (hopefully) direct an episode next season they'll be like dude we love you and all but easy with the hand motions 😂
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horsegirlhob · 3 years
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Every day I thank god that I had a name in mind for years before I started using it because I was very into supernatural while I was just starting to transition and knowing me there is a substantial chance I would have named myself Dean if I hadn’t liked the name Dylan since I was like 8
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jungkxook · 3 years
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—pour up. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  
⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.
⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛
also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!
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There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.
Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.
You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.
Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.
Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.
That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.
“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.
His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.
Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.
“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”
“Much.”
You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).
“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.
“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.
You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”
“Amaze you?”
“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.
“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”
“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.
As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”
You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”
“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.
“As if.”
“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”
You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”
“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”
“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”
Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.
The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.
Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.
“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”
You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”
“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”
At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”
The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”
“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”
“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.
“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”
“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”
“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.
“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”
Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.
“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.
“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”
He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”
He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.
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That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.
So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.
Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).
You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.
Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.
You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.
“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”
“Looking for someone?”
The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.
“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”
You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”
Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”
There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.
“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.
Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.
Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.
“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”
The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.
“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”
Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”
You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.
“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”
Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”
The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.
By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.
Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.
Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.
Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”
You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.
“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”
The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”
You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”
There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
“Come here and kiss me.”
Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.
A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.
You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”
He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).
The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).
“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.
“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”
Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”
“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”
You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”
Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.
“Noticing what?”
“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.
Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”
“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”
Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.
“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”
“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”
“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”
At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”
“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.
The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.
As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.
“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”
“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”
His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.
“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.
You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.
“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”
“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.
Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.
“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.
Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.
“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.
You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.
“Time’s up,” he says.
Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.
“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”
“Help? How?” You question.
“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.
Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.
“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.
Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.
“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”
You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?
Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.
“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”
You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.
“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”
It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.
“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”
Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.
“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“So badly,” You whimper.
This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.
“Spread your legs,” he says.
You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.
“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”
You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.
You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”
“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”
Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”
Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.
Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”
When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”
At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.
“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”
“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.
“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.
“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”
God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.
“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”
Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.
“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”
Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.
“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.
“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”
You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”
Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.
“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”
“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.
Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.
“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”
Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.
“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”
Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.
“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”
He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”
Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.
“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”
“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”
He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.
In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.
“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.
“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.
“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”
Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.
You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.
“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.
“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.
The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.
“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”
“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”
“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”
Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.
“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”
You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.
“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”
“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.
Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”
The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.
“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”
“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”
“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”
You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.
“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.
Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”
You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.
“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”
You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”
The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.
“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”
You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.
“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”
“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”
“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?
“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”
His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.
“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”
You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.
“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”
His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.
“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”
You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.
“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”
You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.
“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.
“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”
You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”
His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.
“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”
With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.
“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”
You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.
“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.
You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.
“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”
Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.
“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.
You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.
“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”
You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.
“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.
“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”
He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.
“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.
You nod hurriedly, humming in response.
“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”
You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.
“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”
His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.
“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.
You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.
“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”
You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.
“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”
“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”
You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.
“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”
His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.
With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.
“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.
You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.
“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” he quips.
“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.
“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.
“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”
You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.
“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”
“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”
“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.
“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”
You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.
“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”
Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”
You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.
“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”
Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.
“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”
Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.
“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”
You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.
“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”
Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”
Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”
He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.
“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”
The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.
“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”
“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”
“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.
He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.
“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”
“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.
Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.
“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”
It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”
He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”
You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.
“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”
He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.
“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”
Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.
“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”
You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”
Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.
You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”
“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.
He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.
The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.
But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.
“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”
The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”
When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.
“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”
“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”
You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”
“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”
Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 
Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.
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You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.
It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.
“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.
Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.
The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.
Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”
You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.
“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.
“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”
Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  
“I━ I━” You stammer.
“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”
Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…
“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”
“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.
“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”
“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”
The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.
You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.
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bing-bang-bingo · 3 years
Text
- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel
- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”
- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles
- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas
- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”
- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna
- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”
- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell
- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere
- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”
- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean
- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”
- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach
- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”
- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket
- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”
- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay
- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe
- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad
- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself
- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.
- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”
- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*
- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.
- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him
- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)
- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”
- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.
- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)
- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.
- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.
- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.
- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.
- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.
- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”
- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”
- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”
- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead
- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.
- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.
- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.
- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.
- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas
- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”
- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.
- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.
- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.
- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself
- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.
- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.
- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept
- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.
- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean
- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye
- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.
- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.
- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”
- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”
- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas
- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue
- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.
- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy
- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain
- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again
- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean
- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”
- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”
- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon
- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”
- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands
- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*
- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark
- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.
- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror
- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.
- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer
- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).
- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*
- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)
- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)
- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas
- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.
- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)
- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.
- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.
- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas
- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”
- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas
- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck
- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.
- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps
- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”
- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.
- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.
- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously
- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues
- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”
- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands
- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”
- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.
- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.
- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken
- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.
- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.
- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”
- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.
- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas
- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble
- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.
- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness
- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”
- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”
- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas
- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING
- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”
- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”
- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.
- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters
- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.
- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.
- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time
- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape
- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”
- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”
- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot
- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.
- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas
- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back
- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”
- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.
- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.
- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.
- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.
- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.
- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself
- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.
- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”
- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back
- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.
- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”
- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.
- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.
- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.
- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer
- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.
- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean
- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”
- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”
- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.
- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.
- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.
- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack
- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left
- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”
- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now
- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.
- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.
- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever
- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels
- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”
- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.
- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.
- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)
- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”
- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying
- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*
- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)
- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean
- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay
Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more
8K notes · View notes
tom-holland-parker · 3 years
Text
I Wanna Wear Your Tie
Request: Can you please do a professor tom x student reader, she’s of age of course, and he takes a liking to her for being so smart and he can barely contain himself with every outfit she wears. And one day after class he asks her to hang back and things get very SMUTTY?
Warning: 18 + SMUT (oral, choking, vaginal sex), student/teacher relationship, cursing, age gap (legal)
Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader
Word count: 4081
Masterlist
Tom knew from the first time you walked into class he was going to have a hard time. Not because you were a trouble maker, he heard from your other professors that you were an extremely bright and well rounded student, but because you liked to wear the shortest sundresses he’d ever seen. Tom knew he fucked up by developing a crush on his student. It was immoral and he could lose the job he worked so hard to get. 
Tom had been staring at the email all weekend, debating all his choices. He knew the right thing to do was to report it and let the school handle everything, but a big part of him told himself to do otherwise.
Dear Professor Holland,
I want to wear your tie while you fuck me
Love Y/N
Tom let out a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes, refreshing his inbox once more in hopes you had sent another email, an explanation or maybe even an apology, anything that would avoid him having to send the response that he had drafted Friday night after he received your message. Of course as the hours passed he knew that hoping was pointless, Tom sighed looking over his drafted email for what seemed like the 100th time before hitting send. 
Ms. Y/L/N
In regards to your last email I have no choice but to report it to the school. I do, however, acknowledge that you are one of my highest scoring students so it is only fair that I give you a chance to explain yourself. Please meet me in my office Monday after class
Professor Holland
Little did Tom know you were freaking out, spending Saturday nursing your hangover from partying Friday night. It was a drunken mistake, you would’ve never sent the email had you been sober but leave it to the vodka to let you do something stupid.
You had one day to come up with some apology and still couldn’t find the right words. Countless drafts saved in your notes app, but none good enough to express the regret you felt by sending that email. Of course time wasn’t on your side and the hours moved faster than usual. Finally it was Monday afternoon and you sat in your door waiting for your final class of the day, his class
“Maybe if you just tell him it was a mistake he’ll understand” Your roommate Kendra laughed as she looked at your computer, you’d been rereading the email for hours, hoping it would go away. Glancing at the clock you sighed, “I have his class in an hour, how am I going to face him”
“You could skip”
“I’m already in enough trouble as it is I can’t skip class” You sighed, closing the laptop as you moved to put on your shoes, “I’ll just give the best apology he’s ever heard of and hopefully it’ll all work out”
Kendra chuckled, “who knows maybe you’ll get exactly what you wanted”. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll text you after class”
///
Tom watched as you entered class, his eyes trailing over your outfit, you were wearing his favorite dress, white with blue flowers. He chuckled at your innocent appearance but frowned when he noticed you taking a seat in the back instead of your usual seat in the front.
You showed up to class right on time, looking at your feet to avoid any eye contact with Tom. It was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was that stupid email. It didn’t help that he was wearing a tie today, the same tie you’d imagine him gagging you with on most nights. You shook your head trying to focus on forming an apology that wasn’t absolutely pathetic
“Alright class is over, If you have any questions about the assignment you can” his gaze shifted towards you, “email me”
Your eyes widened as you distracted yourself by putting your things in your bag. As if the universe wanted to see you completely embarrass yourself in front of the teacher you’d been crushing on all semester, you piled out the class with the rest of the students, trudging down the hallway towards his office. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, pacing back and forth as you tried to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you knocked on the door 
“Come in” You heard his muffled voice from behind the door. You took a deep breath as you twisted the door knob walking into the well lit office. 
“Hi Professor, you said you needed to see me” You say trying to seem innocent. He cleared his throat pointing to the leather seat in front of his desk, “Please have a seat” 
Slowly you make your way to the seat, placing your bag on the floor as you stare at him. Tom took a deep breath, opening the email as he passed you his laptop, “When I get an email from my brightest student I expected a question about her latest essay not this”
Your face heated in embarrassment as you handed him the laptop, “Professor I’m so sorry I was very drunk Friday night and I know that isn’t an excuse but I didn’t mean to send that. If I could take it back I would just please don’t report this”
Tom watched as tears slowly began to trail down your face, “y/n I’m not going to report you”. 
You looked at him in disbelief, “Seriously”
“but you’re not getting off that easily” He closed his laptop, “You’ll be spending the week and your weekend helping me grade papers”
You let out a sigh of relief, “thank you professor I’m really sorry it ever happened”
Tom chuckled, “You’re one of the smartest girls in my class. I would hate to see you get in trouble because of one drunk mistake” You wiped your tears away, feeling yourself relax now that you knew you weren’t going to be in too much trouble. “After all you’re only young once, just try to keep your thoughts in a diary and not your emails”
You chuckled, picking up your bag as you got up to leave, “will do professor”
///
Tom instantly regretted his decision. Don’t get him wrong, having the extra help was amazing but it was hard to concentrate when all you wore were short dresses. He spent all week sitting at his desk, too afraid to get up for fear that his body would betray him and you see the hard on he was trying desperately to get rid of. Seeing you in class was hard enough but when he watched you in what seemed like your natural element it changed something in him.
He watched as you sat on the couch in his office, your hair tied back and your glasses slowly sliding down your face, every once in a while you had to push them back in place. Tom couldn’t help but smile at the faces you made while reading the essays, a look of annoyance when you read over an obvious mistake or the way your eyebrows furrowed when you wrote the feedback. He tried his hardest to keep his laughter inside whenever you got distracted and drew little faces in the margins. He hated to admit it, it made him feel terrible, but he was a professor falling for his student
“Professor I’m not sure about this” You said getting up from the couch as you walked towards his desk. Your voice knocked him out of his trance as he watched you hand the paper to him, “See the evidence goes along with the topic sentence but the explanation is still choppy” 
You watched as Tom took the paper from you, your breathing hitching when his hands grazed over yours. You shook your head reminding yourself that you were already here because your stupid feelings and if you kept letting yourself indulge in what was supposed to be your punishment you were going to end up in the deans office.
“I see what you mean,” Tom said looking over the paper, “just circle the paragraph and place it in the pile and I’ll look over it later.” He looked up, surprised to see how close you were to him, your chest inches away from his face. It was just his luck that you decided to wear a low cut dress today.
“Okay” You replied, taking the paper from him as you slowly moved back to the couch. Tom glanced at the clock noticing how late it was getting, “Well it’s getting late and you probably want to spend the you weekend somewhere way entertaining than here so you can leave, punishment over”
“Are you sure? I still owe you two more days and it doesn’t feel fair to end my punishment early” You said, grabbing another paper. You weren’t sure if you wanted to stay because it actually felt unfair or if you really just wanted an excuse to keep spending time with him. 
“Well if you insist, '' he chuckled, a part of him happy that you weren’t eager to leave, “But we can finish this tomorrow afternoon, I’ll walk you out”
You gathered your things, meeting Tom at the door where he waited for you, his hand resting on your back as he guided you out the room, locking the door behind him. “It’s dark, I’ll walk you to your car, Where are you parked?” Tom said looking at the parked cars on the street
“I don’t drive” You said awkwardly, “But my dorm is only a few blocks away from here I don’t mind walking”
Tom shook his head, “No way I’m letting you walk, it's too dangerous, I’ll drive you.” You watched as he took his keys out his pocket unlocking the black BMW parked across the street.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way” you looked down on your feet, here you were again too flustered to even look at him. Tom chuckled at your nervousness, “Don’t worry about it. I insist on it.” Your breath hitched as he placed his hand on your back again, guiding you towards the car.
It only took a few minutes for him to get to your dorm building, “well here we are” He said, parking his car before looking at you. You glanced at him nervously, “Thanks Professor”
“Call me Tom” he chuckled, “But only when were alone”
You wanted to punch yourself for feeling butterflies but you couldn’t help it. “Well Tom” You laughed, calling him by his name felt weird, “thank you”
He watched as you moved to grab the door handle but froze, “Oh I forgot to ask you about your assignment”
“What’s up?” he shrugged. “Well I know you wanted us to write about how the author uses the women in his novel to display power but I can’t write about that. The author clearly doesn’t see the woman as symbols of power he sees them as sex objects, which is shown multiple times throughout the text so I can’t write about something that isn’t true”
“So you don’t believe sex is a form of power?” Tom questioned trying not to smile at the way your brows furrowed in concentration
“Of course I believe sex is a form of power but for the author to display women having sex as a symbol for powerful femininity the woman would have to own their sexual desires and wants”
Tom chuckled, “If you really feel so strongly about that then write about it, I’d love to hear more about what you have to say about owning your sexual desires. Seems to me you know a lot about that” 
“Oh my god” You hide your face in your hands, “I didn’t even realize-”
“Don’t be embarrassed, if you can’t joke about it then you’ll let it eat you alive” Tom chuckled
“Well” you smiled, “I should probably get to writing”
“Yeah you should”
You both didn’t even noticed the way you both began to slowly lean into each other, the tension in the car growing thick
“Goodnight professor”
“It’s Tom” He said with a smile
You scrunch your nose, “Goodnight Tom”
Your faces were inches away from each other. He couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at your lips before looking back at your eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do the same, “Goodnight y/n”
You both stayed silent, letting the tension take over. Your lips grazing over each other. The kiss was slow at first but it soon progressed into passionate open mouth kisses, both of you giving into your desires.
Your hands reached to grab his face, shocked at how soft his cheeks felt. “Wait wait wait” Tom said, pulling away slowly. 
You caught your breath, wiping your lips as you moved back into your seat, “I should probably go”
Before Tom could say a word you were out the car rushing towards the dorm building. “Fuck” he said to himself as he leaned back into his seat. He knew he’d fucked up, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when he kissed you.
///
When you knocked on Tom’s office door the next day you were even more nervous than you were Monday. You were too embarrassed and instead of facing the problem head on you did what you did best, ignored it. 
You spent the afternoon on the couch, headphones on as an excuse to block out Tom. If you had a question you didn’t ask it and when you had a comment you didn’t say it. It was pure torture for you and Tom, yet you both chose to ignore the elephant in the room.
As the hours passed and the sun began to set Tom’s patience was growing thin. He couldn’t pretend like the kiss never happened, and if he was being honest with himself he wanted more.
You sighed in frustration, as hard as you tried to concentrate on the papers in front of you, you just couldn’t. Thoughts about last night flooded your brain making it hard to concentrate on even the simplest sentences. You threw the paper on the couch, ripping your headphones off, “I’m sorry but this silence is killing me, can we just get this awkward conversation over with”
“Alright well” Tom stared at you, unsure what to say. Yes he felt wrong but he also didn’t care. He got a taste of you and now he wanted more, “I apologize for what happened, it was completely unprofessional on my part”
You cleared your throat trying to find the right response, “yeah, well, I'm sorry too, we were both in the wrong and it shouldn’t have happened and I’m really hoping we can just move past this” 
“Yes I agree” Tom nodded his head, “So how are those papers coming along?”
You shrugged, sitting down in the exact leather chair you’d sat in on Monday, “There needs to be a study group or something, I mean if this is the writing skills of our future world leaders I’m honestly a little concerned”
Tom chuckled, his hands instinctively reaching for his tie, something you noticed he did subconsciously. Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fluttered, “god get a grip girl” You thought as you blinked your lust filled thought away.
Tom smirked, noticing your reaction to the way you reacted to him, “Yes well not everyone has an easy time with writing as you do”. He touched his tie again, this time tugging on the knot a little.
Your breath hitched as your brain went foggy. A low chuckle leaving his mouth as you shook your head, “Well I’m not that great of a writer, I mean I have countless drafts that no one sees”
“Really?” Tom played with his tie, loving how much the simple habit affected you, “How many drafts did you make before you sent that email?”
Your eyes widening in surprise, “no drafts. Drunk me is the best writer”
Tom smiled, getting up from his seat as he moved to stand in front of you. You watched as he leaned against his desk. You bit your lip as you leaned back into the chair, enjoying the way that Tom seemed so much taller than you.
“You know you probably shouldn’t say that to your professor”
You smirked, “There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t say to my professor” You were playing with fire but the heat felt too good, it made you want to know what the burn felt like. “Fuck it, what’ve you got to lose” You thought to yourself as you smiled.
“Oh yeah?” Tom’s eyebrow raised in question as he leaned down towards you, his face only inches from you, “things like what?”
You smiled bringing your lips close to his ear, “Like how much I want you to fuck me”
The groan that left Tom had your thighs clenching together, “Yeah you definitely shouldn’t tell me that.” You chuckled as you leaned back in the seat, Tom’s eyes moved over your body like you were a work of art, “but then again as a teacher I probably shouldn’t want to fuck my student so badly”
Your lips parted in surprise as Tom smirked, his fingers gently trailing up your thigh. Your breath hitched in anticipation but a disappointed sigh left your mouth when his hand didn’t move past the hem of your short dress. “If this happens no one can know”
You nodded your head as his hand grabbed your chin, keeping your head in place and forcing you to look into his eyes, “Words darling”
“No one finds out” You gulped, your body frozen. You could feel yourself getting wet from the power he held over you. The feeling of his having control over you was intoxicating
“And you understand that I will never use this against you? You can leave right now and I will forget this ever happened and we can go right back to our normal professional student-teacher relationship”
“I understand professor” You nodded, wanting nothing more than for his hands to be all over you. 
“Good girl” He smiled, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “Now go sit on my desk and spread those legs”
You smiled, quickly doing as you were told. Tom chuckled, amused by your excitement. You watched as he got on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he places kisses up your thighs, occasionally leaving a mark that would stay for days to come. “You’re so wet, all this over a couple of kisses?” He teased
Before you could answer Tom moved your underwear aside, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. You moaned, your hand instinctively reaching for his hair. “I knew you would taste good,” He said, licking his lips. He ate you like you were his last meal, licking and slurping you like a starving man. 
You’d never been more thankful that the school was empty on Saturdays, no one around to hear the moans that Tom was coaxing out of you. “Oh god” Your hips shamelessly bucking against his face as he pulled your legs onto his shoulder.
“Tom please” You whimpered as his tongue slowed down to a teasing pace. He groaned, his large hand slapping your thigh, “It’s professor.” His voice was demanding and powerful. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers stretched you, toes curling as he effortlessly found your g-spot. “Professor please I’m gonna cum”
“Cum for me baby” He moaned, “I want your cum all over my face”
His fingers moved faster as you reached your breaking point, loud moans leaving your mouth as your back arched. You could feel Tom smirking against your clit as your legs began to slightly shake. 
“You sound so pretty when you cum” Tom said as he stood up, your cum making his face glisten in the last bits of light that came from the windows of the office. You couldn’t help yourself, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer as you licked your cum off his face. 
“Someone’s eager” He joked as you kissed down his neck. “Hmm I can’t help it, you just look so sexy with my cum on your face. Plus I’ve been wanting this all semester so are you gonna give me what I want or am I gonna have to get it from someone else”
Tom’s jaw tightened as he grabbed your wrist, “Don’t be a brat or I’ll edge you all night and leave you with nothing”
You whimpered as Tom pulled you off the desk, “Now if I remember correctly,” you watched as he loosened his tie, “You wanted to wear this.” You nodded your head, watching as he took off the blue and white tie, taking a deep breath as he placed it around your neck. 
“And as much as I love you in this dress, I think I’d prefer for you to be out of it” He smirked. You chuckled, turning around so he could unzip the dress, letting the fabric pool at your feet. Tom’s arms snaked around your body he pulled your back into his. His fingers playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling the sensitive area. You bit your lip, rubbing your ass against his hard on, your pussy desperate for more attention.
“Professor” You wined, “I want you”
“So needy baby” He chuckled against your skin as he kissed up your shoulder and neck, “Don’t worry, you’ve been a good girl I won’t tease you too much”
Your head rested against his shoulder as his hand twisted the tie, making it tighter around your throat, “Is this okay?” You nodded, wincing when his hand roughly slapped your ass, “Come on sweetheart you're smart enough to know that when I ask a question I expect an answer. Now use your words”
“Yes Professor” You said moaning as his hand gently rubbed the area he’d just hit. Tom quickly unbuckled his pants, pushing them down as he aligned himself with you. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock on your clit, loving the low whimpers that escaped your mouth as your hips jolted up. 
Tom’s grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down into the desk as he bottomed you out. You moaned loudly as he began to thrust into you, “This is what you wanted right? Your professor fucking you like a slut”
You gripped the desk, trying your best to keep your balance. Tom gripped the tie again, the fabric pulling your head back. “Faster please Professor” You begged as you moved your hips. 
His hips sped up as his hand moved in front of you tracing figure eights on your clit. You became light headed from how tight the tie was but you couldn’t care less it all felt too good. “Sir Please It’s too much I’m gonna cum”
“Go on baby cum on my cock, give it to me” Tom sped up, becoming needier as he came closer to cumming. He pulled your body into his, fucking up into you as he kissed the harsh line where the tie met your skin. The sensation was too much for you as you came, your walls squeezing Tom, milking his cock of all his cum as he came shortly after you.
Your body went limp, leaning against the desk so you didn’t fall to the floor. Tom sighed, pulling out of you, groaning when he saw his cum leaking out your abused hole. “You did so good” Tom whispered as he kissed up your spine, “Such a good girl for me”
You slowly got up, turning around to face him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom smiled, picking you up and moving you to the couch, where you sat cuddled in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, still placing kisses all over your body
“I’m cold” You said, your head resting against his shoulder. He chuckled, quickly grabbing his jacket from his chair before returning to your tired body. You laid in his lap with his jacket wrapped around you, Tom’s hand running up and down your spine as he kissed your forehead.
You glanced at the clock, “it’s getting late”
Tom sighed, “let’s just stay like this for a little while, then we’ll get you dressed and I’ll drive you to your dorm”
1K notes · View notes
dothwrites · 3 years
Note
13 and 20
13. and 20.--Detective AU and Teacher AU
---
Castiel represses a sigh as he stands up straight. His spine pops as he subtly stretches out the kinks in his aching body.
He'd thought that he was a reasonably fit man, but bending over and scrubbing at filthy floors and tables every day is playing hell with his lower back.
The bell rings, and Castiel curses under his breath as he moves back against the wall. Less than thirty seconds later, all of the doors near him burst open and a flood of teenagers courses into the hallway.
Castiel's had a lot of unpleasant assignments in his life, but going undercover at Carver Edlund High School is among the worst. He thought that he'd seen some of the worst that humanity had to offer: murderers who cared nothing for the pain of their victims, kidnappers who plunged families into turmoil for years, robbers who were willing to kill just in order to get a few quick bucks. But upon seeing the horror show of the cafeteria after a group of freshmen finished lunch, Castiel has to start reevaluating his list of atrocities.
The tardy bell rings, and Castiel sighs as he steps out in the hall. He rolls his eyes at the debris that the students have left behind and grabs his push broom to start clearing it away.
Going undercover at Carver Edlund wasn't Castiel's first choice of assignments, but with several students ending up in the hospital due to drug overdoses, something drastic had to be done. Castiel's job is simple: gather as much intelligence as he can about where the drugs are coming from. If possible, he's to find the dealer and shut the whole production down.
In theory, it's a good assignment. Success here would mean a potential commendation, maybe a promotion if the operation is big enough. But the reality of the situation is much different. Castiel's been masquerading as a member of the maintenance team for a little over a week, and he's no closer to finding the source of the drugs than he was when he started.
His captain had ultimately decided to send him in as a member of the janitorial staff for access reasons: as a janitor, he has keys to every door. Not even lockers are safe from him. There's no place in the school off-limits to him. Unfortunately, it also means that his opportunities for questioning potential suspects are limited: no high school student wants to have long conversations with the janitor. He's reduced to sweeping around gaggles of kids, hoping that they'll just so happen to let something slip.
His plan hasn't worked. So far, he's learned about the latest TikTok challenge, who's rumored to have slept with who, and who on the football team is getting suspended, but drugs? Either these kids are savvier than he gives them credit for, or they don't know anything.
"Oh, sorry, 'scue me... Oh. Hi, Steve."
It takes Castiel just a second too long to respond to the name. Part of that is because he's still not used to answering to his cover name, and part of that is because he's still not sure how to act around Dean Smith.
He braces himself before he turns around, but that still doesn't prepare him for the sight of Dean Smith leaning against the wall. Looking at him is like looking into the sun, if the sun was in a dingy hallway with flickering florescent lights and questionable stains on the floor. Even with those inauspicious surroundings, however, Dean Smith, with his sandy hair, vibrant eyes, freckles, and bright, crooked grin, stands out.
"Hello, Dean." Castiel allows the hint of a smile to cross his face. He'd called Dean 'Mr. Smith' exactly once before Dean had put a stop to it.
"Oh, no," he said, grimacing in distaste, "I get enough of that from the kids. Just Dean, man." Castiel hadn't argued, and the slightly stuffy Mr. Smith became Dean.
"Another beautiful day cleaning up the debris of the world?" Dean gestures towards the small pile of dirt and dust that Castiel has managed to collect.
"It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it," Castiel answers.
No doubt his superiors would be screaming if they could see him right now. Zachariah, his Captain, would sneer, You're there to catch drug dealers, Novak, not to play nice with pretty boy teachers, but Zachariah isn't here right now. Plus, it's not like Castiel's making any headway on the drug dealers, so he might as well indulge his crush with a guy who's miles out of his league.
Dean is the kind of good-looking that gets noticed by modeling companies in the line at the cafe. Castiel has found himself wondering, more than once, what a guy like him is doing substitute teaching. It's obvious that Dean is smart, and he doesn't doubt that he could have a job doing whatever he wanted. Still, Dean's being a substitute teacher works out well for him, so he doesn't complain. Not if it means that he can be just a little closer to him.
Maybe if Castiel wasn't undercover and wearing an unflattering jumpsuit with the name 'Steve' stitched across the front pocket. Maybe if he were dressed in his customary suit and had a badge and gun to flash around. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
"Don't talk to me about dirty jobs," Dean says, his voice entirely too low and insinuating for the circumstances. Heat blooms underneath Castiel's collar.
"Well, I'm not sure what else to talk to you about," he confesses. He resents the broom handle in his hands.
Dean shrugs. His smile is still carefree, but there's something else in his eyes when he says, "What about any books that you've read lately? TV shows that you've watched?" His eyes flash to Castiel's, and his tongue flirts with his lower lip as he asks, "Restaurants that you'd like to go to?"
Castiel's heart stutters. For a second, it sounded like... But that can't be right. Dean can't be inviting him out. Guys like Castiel don't go out with guys like Dean. That's just the way the world works. Maybe if he was Detective Castiel Novak, but now when he's Janitor Steve.
He takes a second too long to answer. By the time that he's managed to figure out that Dean is serious, Dean's expression has shuttered. He flashes a painfully fake smile at Castiel. "Hey, man, don't worry about it. I'll catch you later, okay?"
He's turning to go, and fear grabs at Castiel. He knows that if he lets Dean walk away, then everything will change between them. No more jokes, no more stolen conversations in the hallways. They'll become nothing more than vague, uneasy colleagues, at least until Castiel's assignment ends and he disappears forever from Dean's life.
The indignity of his assignment and the frustration of his ineptitude rises in Castiel, and bursts out of him in a quick call. "Dean!"
Dean turns around. Hope flickers in his eyes before he hides it. "Yeah?" he asks. The carefully blank tone in his voice is like a knife twisting in Castiel's chest.
"I like Italian food," Castiel answers. He offers a hesitant smile towards Dean, hoping against hope that Dean will accept his overture.
After a second, Dean's smile spreads slowly across his face, as bright as the sunrise. "Yeah," he says, nodding slowly, "yeah, I think we could do that."
---
Dean's heart dances in his chest as he walks away from Steve.
He did it. After weeks of ogling and tentatively flirting, he finally asked out the hot janitor.
Steve is a lot more than a pair of pretty blue eyes and a five o'clock shadow that makes Dean's lip yearn for stubble burn, though. (Though Steve does fill out a jumpsuit better than anyone Dean's ever seen. One day, he was lifting a desk onto the dolly so that it could be moved, and Dean thought his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. Between the thick thighs attempting to pop the seams on his pants, and the biceps rippling, Dean hadn't known where to look.) Steve has a wicked sense of humor, an innate sense of kindness, and he's caught every single one of Dean's literary references (the pop culture ones, not so much. Seriously, who's never seen Indiana Jones?). There's more to Steve than meets the eye, and Dean's itching to peel back the dozens of layers.
He ignores the tiny voice in the back of his head (which sounds like an alarming mix of Sam and Bobby) saying Don't get too involved. This is a temporary thing. Dean frowns and tries to tell the voice to shut the fuck up.
He's only here for as long as it takes him to figure out who's bringing drugs into the school. At the first viable lead, he'll be yanked out, and Dean Smith, substitute teacher, will die, to be replaced by Agent Dean Winchester of the DEA.
Because of the environment, there are multiple law enforcement agencies working on this case. There's state police, the DEA, and maybe even a few FBI agents sniffing around. It's naive to believe that there aren't other agents working in the school, but he hasn't come across any yet that he knows of. He's not entirely sure; he lets Bobby deal with all of the inter-agency bullshit. He has his mission and his cover, and Bobby, as his handler, can navigate every other pitfall.
Beyond small talk and leading conversations, Dean hasn't tried to get close with anyone. Every smiling face could conceal an undercover agent or a dealer. With suspicion everywhere, it's best not to succumb to temptation.
Which makes his attraction to Steve all the more intriguing.
Just thinking of the other man sets off a series of fireworks in the pit of Dean's belly.
This is probably a terrible idea, doomed to failure, but Dean is going to enjoy the ride while it lasts.
Whistling, he goes back to the classroom and prepares for his next class.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
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Season 16 (Part 1)
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Summary: After being captured by Michael while Dean was under his control, the reader has spent a very long time locked away waiting for someone to come and find her. When the day finally comes that the door opens, it’s not a familiar face she’s greeted with. Somehow the impossible is standing right in front of her but there’s no time to think about that. Something is terribly wrong and the reader needs the help of this strange young man if she wants to stop what Michael’s put in motion and have a chance at seeing Dean alive again...
Masterlist
Pairing: Dean x reader
Square: Free Space
Word Count: 3,600ish
Warnings: language, SPN season 15 and series spoilers, injury, mention of main character deaths, mention of torture, angst, fluff
A/N: This series takes place post season 15 and follows canon (i.e. if it happened in the show, it happened in this story’s universe). This series is told between the reader and Dean’s POV. This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story bingo!
________
Reader’s POV
You just about had a heart attack when the door opened. It’d been such a long time since it’d been opened. Years and years and years. You’d lost track of the days quickly but it was long enough for you to accept that it’d been a very long time. Long enough to accept that when Michael took over Dean and threw you down in the windowless little room, Dean didn’t win that fight.
The only thing keeping you going aside from the spell Michael had put up to keep you permanently trapped, body stuck in time, was the desire to save Dean. Or what was left of him. You’d been alone for years, body having taken a beating by Michael when he first captured you. You were still covered in bruises, broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, pain in every breath. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. Solitude, cut off from the world, that was your main form of torture. Dean though...who knew what hell he was going through trapped with a psychopath like that for all these years.
You readied yourself, a dark figure walking inside the room. The room was pitch black to a certain point before you were trapped under a bright light you’d yet to figure out how to turn off. The figure stopped as their feet hit the brightness, a pair of brown boots and slim dark jeans all you could make out. They mumbled something and you felt the air shift slightly. You dared to reach at hand out to where the invisible wall keeping you trapped had been.
Your hand waved right on through it and you suddenly felt cool, clean air hit you. The person jolted when you sprang up, running away as you bolted for the door. You followed them up a flight of stairs and straight out into the foyer of a very nice house. You could see it was a man now and tackled him, straddling his hips and grabbing your knife from your waistband of your loose shorts, holding it to his throat. He breathed hard as you stared at him, cocking your head.
He was the spitting image of Dean. Mostly. His eyes weren’t green and there was something about his nose that reminded you of your own. The biggest tell of all though was the genuine fear in his face, the confusion. 
“What’s your name,” you said. You held up the knife for a moment and tucked it away when you saw he was only focused on it. The young man, no more than twenty years old, took a deep breath. You yelped when he threw his legs up and wrapped them around your waist, yanking you off of him. He scrambled to his feet but you were on his tail, grabbing at his jacket. He spun around and popped you in the face, sending you to the floor.
You whined and cupped your cheek, the young man frozen in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.
“Who punches their own mom!” you shouted. He ran out the door and you went after, growling at your bare feet as he took off down the gravel driveway. “I’m gonna find you!”
You stomped your foot on the cool concrete front path, glancing to your right and spotting a sports car. You jogged back inside and found a pair of women’s sneakers, a little too big but you tied them tight and found some keys on a front table. 
About two minutes later you were pulling up beside the guy on the road and hopped out of the car, the man running into the nearby treeline. You pulled out your knife and threw it, catching his jacket and pinning the sleeve to the tree trunk. He stumbled and fell down as you walked over, staring up with wide eyes. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. 
“Can you at least tell me your first name?” you asked. He shook his head and you crossed your arms. “I bet your name is Lyle, isn’t it.”
“How’d you know that?” he asked, voice a bit higher than Dean’s but it made you smile, something warm and familiar to it.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think recently. Lyle is my top name for a boy if I ever had one,” you said. “So. Lyle Winchester.”
“That’s not my name,” he said. He stood up and pulled out the knife, carefully holding it out to you.
“You look just like Dean and me. You’re my son...somehow,” you said.
“Fine. My name is Lyle and that’s all I can say about myself,” he said. “I’m serious.”
You recognized the tone, that edge to it, the roughness but laced with an undercurrent of worry. Part of you wanted him to tell you everything about him but you knew he couldn’t, instead letting yourself give him a simple nod.
“I’ll make you a deal Lyle. I won’t ask questions about you that you can’t answer if you tell me how and why you got me out of there and answer anything else I want to know about this little situation.”
“Or else what?” he scoffed.
“Or else someday when you’re a teenager I won’t let you do anything. Lyle.” You took the knife from him and put it away, taking a deep breath. You stepped back out to the road, leaning against the car. You shut your eyes, something heavy draped over you. You peeled one eye open, Lyle leaning back against the car next to you in a blue flannel and dark gray t-shirt. His black hooded jacket was over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, wrapping them around yourself. You squeezed your eyes tight, shuddering before warm arms embraced you, Lyle almost as tall as Dean holding you close to him. “How did you know I was down there?”
“I can’t answer that,” he said.
“What year is it?” you asked.
“2089.” You froze, staring up at him. “Well, 2089 where we are right now is.”
“Lyle. It was 2018 when Michael took me. That’s not possible.”
“I can’t answer that either.” Tears welled up in your eyes and he hugged you again. “Sorry.”
“Dean was thirty nine the last time I saw him and it’s seventy one years later? He is dead. Sam is dead. They’re all dead so explain to me how the fucking hell I have a son with Dean!” you shouted. You pushed him away and ran your hands over your face. “Years. Fucking years I’ve sat down there waiting for him to come and get me. Him or Sam or someone. Fucking seventy one years!”
“Y/N,” he said, sounding a bit awkward but he cleared his throat. “I can’t answer everything because I don’t know everything. But I exist and that should tell you something.”
You wiped off your face with his sleeve and looked around, turning back and staring at him.
“I’m at the start of whatever this is and you’re way down the line,” you said. He nodded with a slight smile.
“I don’t understand it but this, where I’m from, this has already happened to you.”
“You’re from the future then,” you said.
“Not exactly,” he said. 
“A different universe?” He looked at you like you were nuts and the air shifted, Lyle freezing. You turned and saw Jack, a smile on his face. “Jack?”
“Hi Y/N,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a big hug, a little bit of ache inside you easing finally. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just on pause.”
“Jack I don’t understand fucking anything. What’s going on?” you asked. He pursed his lips and sighed.
“Well you already figured out Lyle is your and Dean’s son. I didn’t think I could slip that one past you. But it had to be him that came and saved you.”
“Why?”
“Dean’s in heaven. Has been for 69 years.” You broke away from him feeling like you’d had a punch to gut and making you breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that with the whole decades worth of trauma thing happening right now.”
“Did Michael…” you trailed off.
“No. A piece of rebar on a vamp hunt,” he said.
“He what?” you said.
“Yeah got pushed back on it. Sam was okay though. Oh and Dean had a dog for a few months.”
“Dean fucking died from that? That’s what kept him down?” you said. Jack nodded and you looked down, blinking your eyes. “Disregarding what is going on in my head right now about that, why didn’t you heal him? Or Castiel?”
“Well Cas was in heaven helping me rebuild after he sort of died and I brought him back. I kinda am the new God,” he said with a smile.
“I’m proud of that but again, why didn’t you come down here and heal Dean?”
“I’m sort of hands off in that regard,” he said. You were about to go off on him for that when it hit you.
“Jack how long have you known I was alive,” you said. 
“2020 when I took over, I got these extra-”
“You knew I was alive and  left me in a hole in the ground for over seventy years?” you said. 
“Like I said, I’m hands off,” he said. 
“I was your fucking mom! I took care of you! I protected you! I almost died for you more than once and when you find out I’m still alive you say fuck that bitch, she can deal with it on her own? What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shouted. You slapped him in the face, Jack pouting as you sank down to your knees. “I want Dean.”
“Y/N.”
“I want Dean and Sam.”
“Y/N-”
“I want Dean!”
“I can’t-”
“Fuck you! You’re as every bit as evil as that devil father of yours after all,” you said. You forced yourself to your feet, tears prickling in his eyes. “Oh did I hurt your feelings? Tough fucking shit! Do you realize that I have not only been stuck waiting for years but my body got stuck too. I’ve been sitting with broken ribs for seventy years. Every single breath excruciating.”
You yanked up your shirt, deep purple and black skin radiating across most of your abdomen. Jack reached out a hand and you moved back, dropping your shirt.
“I thought you were hands off. I don’t want your-” you said before warmth trickled through you, the pain gone, body feeling so strange at being without it. 
“I don’t have to touch to heal you,” he said quietly. He swallowed and bowed his head. “I tried to let people live their lives without my interference and sometimes they’re messy but I’ve come to realize recently that’s wrong. A bit of help here and there is good. It gives people hope and maybe I should have done things different.”
“My family’s dead and I don’t want to wait around decades more to see them again in heaven. You’re going to-”
“No I won’t. Lyle’s life counts on you doing exactly what you’re supposed to as do your two other children’s. I can’t just put you in heaven. You can’t die right and you have to wait to see Dean until things work themselves out. Lyle’s going to be with you for a while and help get some things settled. It’s already set in motion so go with it,” he said.
“Jack I want Dean. Please,” you said. “Please Jack. Just five minutes.”
“Would you rather have your family back in the near future, alive, or would you rather have your and Dean’s souls torn apart and you never see him again, dead or alive? Rather he over there doesn’t exist? Rather no one exists?”
“I didn’t say that. Of course I would rather have them back alive-“
“Then be patient.”
“Jack. You gotta give me something. Something please.”
“I’ll talk to Lyle, tell him he can loosen up some. But I can’t tell you what to do. You have to follow your gut. Listen to Lyle and it’ll work out,” said Jack. You squeezed your eyes shut, Jack carefully resting a hand on your shoulder. “Do you hate me?”
“I hate that our family was ripped apart. I hate that you didn’t tell the boys I was alive once you knew. I hate that the last time I saw Dean alive we argued. I think what I hate most of all is that you treated us like everyone else. We’re not, Jack. We’re your family. All of us deserved a chance at normal and we didn’t get it.”
“Sam did.”
“How many years did Sam live without us? Without his brother?” you asked. Jack glanced down and you nodded. “You said you became God? Why didn’t you get rid of the monsters altogether Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have that power.”
“I thought...I thought it was the natural order.”
“Yet you know there are other universes with no monsters at all. You could have taken the monsters away. Shit turn them human for all I care. The boys didn’t have to keep hunting after you took over. You could have been hands off and changed that one fact and saved so many lives, improved so many lives.”
“No. I couldn’t have changed it. Not back then.”
“Why the hell not?” you asked. He pulled his hand away and you found yourself in some clean clothes, Lyle’s jacket folded on top of the car.
“Because when I became God, I learned a lot. It sucks knowing that certain things have to happen and that I had to ignore when Sam prayed to me in that barn because things had to happen this way.”
“But why?”
“Because if I didn’t, if I’d intervened then and there, this universe, all of the ones I’ve been busy rebuilding, the way I’ve been rebuilding heaven...it’d be gone. Destroyed and I wouldn’t be able to put it back. It’s a temporary pain even if it doesn’t seem like it. So please, Y/N, please, listen to Lyle. Work with him. It’ll work out and things can be okay. You can have everything you ever wanted and more. You can have the freaking apple pie life and the no monsters and all of it but please understand you have more shit to go through first and whatever happens, do not let Lyle die.”
“He’s my son. I wouldn’t let that happen to him,” you said. Jack nodded and you grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. “You’ve grown up Jackie.”
“I’m still a baby by God standards,” he said.
“The guys take care of you after I was gone?” you asked. 
“Yeah. I missed you though,” he said. “I accidentally killed Mary and sort of lost my soul for a bit. Things got bad for a while.”
“Do you see Kelly in heaven sometimes? Mary?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “Kids can fuck up and your parents will forgive you.”
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Y/N. If I could snap my fingers to fix it all, stop it from ever happening, I would.”
“I’m going to trust that it had to be this way,” you said. “But give me a ballpark figure here. When do I get the guys back?”
“That’s relative. You’re going to end up breaking the space time continuum so it’s hard to answer that correctly.” You stared at him and he shrugged. “Not too long. A few days at most. I promise.”
“Wait is that how we have a twenty year old son?” you asked.
“Yes. The next time you see Dean he’ll be younger than the last you saw him. Just trust your gut and Lyle. Next time I see you I hope things are much better,” he said. You opened your mouth but he disappeared. You shook your head and turned around, Lyle now wearing his jacket, standing closer to the passenger seat door. For a long while you both simply stared, Lyle looking as if he’d just had his own long conversation with Jack. 
“You can call me Y/N if that makes it easier,” you said. He nodded and you took a deep breath, going to the driver’s side. “So. What’s the next move?”
“Jack just said after I got you out we had to go to Lebanon. He didn’t tell me anything more than that,” he said.
“Any idea where we are?” you asked.
“San Antonio,” he said. “So we go North?”
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Mind taking the first shift driving? I sort of haven’t slept in like seventy years.”
“No that’s fine,” he said. He walked around the front and you made your way to the passenger side, climbing in and sighing. He got behind the wheel and took a deep breath. “You and dad run a construction business.”
“That’s nice,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Dean’d be real good at that kind of thing. He’s really smart.”
“I know. Most guys can’t call up their dad for help on their architecture homework,” he said. 
“You go to college?” you asked, Lyle nodding. “Do you know about...this stuff?”
“I’m still not convinced I’m not insane. I just got home on a friday night. We had dinner and everyone went outside to have a bonfire in the backyard. I went in to use the bathroom and Uncle Jack stopped me before I could get back outside. He said a lot of crazy stuff I didn’t believe but the fact you were in that basement...you and dad are only like forty but you’re obviously too old right now to have had me when that would have made sense and Uncle Jack said space and time is gonna break and-”
“Lyle,” you said, holding up a hand. “Relax. I just want to know, do you know what hunting is?”
“Dad doesn’t go hunting,” he said, narrowing his eyes. You smiled and nodded to yourself. “We don’t even own a gun.”
“I doubt that. But that must mean that something happens to the monsters along the way too.”
“What do you mean monsters? And why were you kidnapped in a basement? And what the fuck is going on? You’re supposed to be my mom that runs the family business and you kick ass in your soccer league in the summer and you can’t cook to save your life and that’s okay cause you’re really good at baking and pies and shit and I just don’t understand who you really are.” His face was flush, eyes fighting back tears. You smiled, reaching over and cupping his cheek.
“You’re a good guy Lyle. We obviously did something right,” you said, wiping away a stray tear that fell. “It’s scary. It’s really scary. I’m not your mom yet but I will be someday. I promise I will tell you everything you don’t know when I catch up to your time. Dean and I will. But we need to go to Lebanon and the faster we can go there and figure out what we have to do, the faster we can get you back home where you belong.”
“But can’t you-”
“This world isn’t safe, Lyle. It is very unsafe for a Winchester especially. Please drive now,” you said. You put on your seatbelt and he closed his eyes. “Please.”
“I was supposed to be having a smore right now,” he said.
“I know. But saving the world is kinda cool,” you said. 
“I don’t want to save the world. I want to go home and not see my mom be beat to shit. I want my dad to go back to teasing me at dinner and not being dead,” he said. 
“If we do this right, you can go back to that really soon. It hasn’t happened for me yet. We can talk all about this when you come back. The night you come back we can talk through it all. But we have to get going. The sooner we go, the sooner it goes back to normal.”
“It’ll never be normal again.”
“Yes it will. I promise.”
“How do you-“
“Because I just had this really bad thing happen to me but someday I’m going to have you and everything I ever wanted with Dean. So it sucks right now but it’ll be better eventually. I know it will. You’re here so I know it’ll be normal.” He nodded and wiped off his face, starting the car up again.
“Y/N. Are you okay after...you know...being down there beat up all that time?”
“Not really,” you said. He took off his jacket and handed it to you. You stared before he rolled his eyes, laying it over your front.
“Sleep. I can drive.”
“Lyle.”
“Y/N. Rest. It’s safe. I got this.”
“You take after your dad.”
“Take after someone else too,” he said. You smiled and nodded, resting your head on your shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”
“Egg and-”
“Cheese on a biscuit, two breakfast burritos, extra hot sauce and a small hot latte.”
“At least my road trip order didn’t change,” you said, quickly relaxing and falling asleep for the first time in ages.
_______
A/N: Read part 2 here!
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Talk Dirty to Me
Summary: You and Dean test pickup lines on each other, taking the sexual tension between you to a new level.
WC: 1,610
Warnings: smut-adjacent? Not exactly explicit, but definitely mature content. Dirty pickup lines and thoughts, sexual tension, smidge of sexy touching, playful banter and fluff
A/N: A submission for #AmandasFlirtyDirty30 (using prompts 5, 42, 46, 55, 58, & 60 I think? I lost count!) I was initially trying to squeeze in as many pickup lines as I could (courtesy of Google), and I kind of love that it got away from me. Credit to New Girl and Nick Miller for the last line. Gif by @dancingalone21 
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"Nice dress, sweetheart.”
You turned to smile at Dean, surprised at the compliment. “Thanks, Dean—”
“Can I talk you out of it? ‘Cause I bet you’d look even better without your clothes on.”
Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head and scoffed.
The two of you had stayed up late one night, falling down a rabbit hole of looking up cheesy pickup lines that soon grew raunchy. It had started out harmless, as most things do. A playful challenge that had become a game of sorts—each of you striving to find a line that would make the other crack. You’d memorized as many as you could, trying to slip them into conversation without warning so you could boast when the other cracked a smile. The game had taken a turn somewhere along the way, and you were slowly losing your mind from the sexual tension emanating between you and Dean.
But you weren’t about to be the first one to crack.
You tilted your head and sauntered toward him, noticing the way his eyes shamelessly raked over your figure and lingered on the sway of your hips. An impish smirk played on his lips as he waited for you to retaliate.
“That shirt looks great on you. As a matter of fact...” You paused, voice soft and sultry as you skimmed your fingers over his broad chest. “So would I.” 
“I bet you would. Y’know, if you’re ever feeling down...I’d be happy to feel you up.”
“Well, Dean, I know you’re busy today, but can you add me to your to-do list?”
“You’re in luck, sweetheart. I don’t feel like doing anything today—except you. I’d do you.”
“I might just have to take you up on that. So, is that a mirror in your pants?” You snaked your arms around his waist, slipping your hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Because I can see myself in them.”
“Were you gonna send me an invitation for the party between your legs in the mail, or are you gonna give it to me in person?”
You tossed your head back, bursting into a sudden fit of laughter. “That one was kind of terrible.”
“Yeah, well—if you could read my mind, you’d need a shower and a cigarette. Sometimes things get a little jumbled when, you know...”
“You’re too busy daydreaming about bending me over every piece of furniture in this place?”
“Exactly. It’s like you can read my mind.” His forest green eyes glided to your lips, lingering briefly before he gazed at you from beneath his long lashes. “Now, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?”
“Maybe I’m not as nice as you think. Life is always a little more fun when you’re a little more...naughty.”
His smug attitude softened as he pulled you closer, playfully squeezing your hips with his large hands. He traced his fingertips along the edge of your jaw, gazing at you thoughtfully as his thumb caressed your chin. Each action was gentle and unhurried, conveying a deep sense of adoration. 
“Can I borrow a kiss?” he murmured. “I promise I’ll give it back.”
You swallowed thickly, captivated by his gravelly voice. You could just imagine the obscene noises he’d make if the two of you just...gave in. The sincere praises he’d whisper in your ear with each languid roll of his hips, while the weight of his robust frame pinned you to the mattress. The guttural sounds that would surely spill from his lips if you asked him to fuck you against the wall—rough and animalistic. The strangled moans you might hear if you dropped to your knees and sucked his cock like the good girl you desperately wanted to be for him. Not to mention the tantalizing ways he could call out your name...
Husky. Dripping with so much lust, it could make your toes curl before his calloused hands even grazed your skin.
A breathless plea. Soft and rich with devotion. A longing sigh that tickled your skin.
Firm and authoritative. Something that made you crumple to your knees, eager to obey his every command...
Dean curled a finger under your chin, tilting your face up as he raised an eyebrow. “Bowing out already? ‘Cause I was just getting started.”
“Not a chance.” Wracking your brain for another line, you ghosted your fingertips up and down his bicep, noticing the way he shuddered. “You know, I might not go down in history, but I’ll definitely go down on you.”
“In that case, I’ll kiss you in the rain so you get twice as wet.”
Realizing the bar had been raised a notch, you bit your lip and decided to push the conversation a step further. You carded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his locks and massaging his scalp every so often. His eyes fluttered closed and you continued the ministrations a little longer, feeling a twinge of pride at having the brave and mighty Dean Winchester melt beneath your touch.
“Hey, Dean...” He hummed lazily in response. “I have 206 bones in my body. Want to give me another one?”
His eyes snapped open, making the suggestive smile you wore twitch in amusement. His gaze was slightly unfocused, but it grew darker as he considered the idea.
“Well, are you a doctor? ‘Cause I’ve got a bone for you to examine—a big one I might add. Maybe it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”
“Maybe. I was feeling pretty off today, but you turned me on.”
“I’ve got a dirty mind. And, right now, you’re running through it...naked.”
“Running’s not really my style. Are you a trampoline, though? Because I wanna bounce on you.”
His lips parted as he gazed down at you, undoubtedly imagining the same scenario as you. His breath trembled, erratic puffs tickling your skin as he exhaled. You could feel the warmth of his body, your torso now flush with his, not realizing the two of you had continued gravitating toward each other. 
Before you could get too caught up in the moment, Dean let out a low whistle. “I gotta be honest, Y/N—I love the sound of that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he rasped. “So, uh...i-is your name Medusa? Because you’re making me rock hard.”
You shivered involuntarily, deeply affected by the gritty edge in his tone. You clenched at his words and pressed your thighs together, unable to mask how much you enjoyed his dirty line. How much it turned you on, pretending you were the reason he was “rock hard.” 
Knowing the two of you were dangerously close to crossing the line you’d been flirting with, you squirmed out of his arms and took a step back.
Dean cleared his throat, glancing at his crotch before briefly meeting your eyes again. “I’m officially uncomfortable now. Thank you.” 
“I guess that’s a sign I’m winning.”
“Not a chance, sweetheart.”  
He focused his attention on a nearby chair, trying to appear nonchalant as he shoved a brazen hand down his pants to adjust himself. When his hand reemerged, you licked your lips upon seeing the large bulge in jeans.
“Are you sure about that?” You inched forward, standing toe-to-toe with him as you slowly dragged your hand down his chest and stomach. “Because it looks you’ve got a situation going on. Maybe you should admit I’m right so you can go take care of it.”
“He may have a mind of his own, but my dick and my willpower are two entirely different things. Besides...you’re the one staring. Maybe you should admit I’m winning so you can help me take care of it.”
Although you had expected a cheeky comeback, his words didn’t match his constrained demeanor. There was an air of submission in his tone—like he was secretly leaving it up to you to end all of this. To make the first move and put you both out of your misery.
He was putty in your hands, and both of you knew it.
You leaned into him, briefly nuzzling his neck as you molded your body against his. While holding his gaze, you traced the outline of his erection with your finger and firmly palmed it through his jeans. His knees buckled and he let out a strangled moan, leaning heavily against the wall behind him for support. His lashes fluttered, struggling to stay open as his carnal eyes swept over your face. You couldn’t help but smirk, relishing the way his tongue wet his lips before he captured the bottom one between his teeth. What you wouldn’t give to have his mouth lavish your skin with any act of passion he saw fit…
Warm, needy open-mouthed kisses that could make you arch against him. Gentle, featherlight kisses that would surely give you chills. Sharp, playful nips with his teeth that made you shiver with anticipation, just thinking about how he could mark you. And his tongue—oh, the ways he’d make you come undone with his tongue alone. 
“Hey, Dean...” you whispered, leaning forward to suck his earlobe between your teeth. He groaned softly, chest heaving with each ragged breath he took.
“Yeah?”
“Even though you’re not a dentist...I bet you could give me a filling.”
“Fuck,” he breathed. Dean tipped his head back, a faint thud making him flinch when he bumped the wall.
“Oh!” You automatically reached out to rub his head, and began cackling with guilt. “Crap, Dean, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he panted as he hungrily surveyed you with a grin. “This game isn’t gonna end well for either of us...but the whole middle part is gonna be awesome.”
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I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #1
I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m doing this and the more I put it off the less I’ll want to do this. So. Let’s start.
The fist thing we see is Jared Padalecki, em Walker, driving. He’s vaguely smiling and there’s the sun behind him. He seems happy. He’s driving a truck, for some reason my mind goes to Twilight. I’d rather watch that. At least there are vampires (not dressed like clowns) there. Anyway. Walker is meeting someone. He’s meeting his wife! “Look at you!” she says. The camera makes us look at him. He looks like this
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I am unsure whether we’re supposed to see this as sexy or cool. It looks frankly ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m just not American enough to appreciate the aesthetic of this. But I didn’t go through 15 seasons of Americana-in-British-Columbia for nothing. If a character appeared like this on Supernatural, it wouldn’t be presented seriously. It would be played for a chuckle or in a light-hearted way at least. Not even Dean Winchester would find this hot.
The Padaleckis tell something to each other. Apparently he needs to go home with the kids and his parents because it’s game night. My mind immediately goes to Game Night the episode and I am sad now. But Walker lifts my mood in its own weird way.  He doesn’t know the rules because every time she tells him the rules, he blacks out. I would make a fun quip about this, but the truth is that I relate to him a lot right now because I blacked out during the entire scene. I’m not sure what they said other than the game thing because I wrote it here. I already forgot the rest.
Anyway. What we’re supposed to get from this scene that they’re Very In Love (see that soft warm light?), and that he’s anxious because he’s not great at being a father because he’s shit at games apparently, but his wife is like ~don’t worry so much~ because she’s a kind, understanding wife. He tells her to be safe, because the Texan countryside is dangerous or something. She needs to stay on a route he approved for some reason. Is she traveling with supersoldier serum in her car? Is Hydra going to murder her? [cue the Marvel snipers shooting me to death because they don’t want Marvel to be associated to this]
Later, everyone is having fun playing fake monopoly, but Walker (whose mannerism is just Jared, he’s not even trying) is apparently too stupid to understand a game for kids. Plot twist, this is anti-cop propaganda because it says cops are dumb.
“Et tu Brute” Jared says when the kids point out he broke a rule so they get an extra turn. I thought I was safe from hearing Jared speak Latin! I thought I was safe! I am never safe!
Emily (Gen) suddenly texts him “SOS. Answer” which is OMINOUS! Oh my god! Aren’t you feeling the tension. The rest of the family keeps playing fake monopoly. Someone throws dice. Are we supposed to go “oh! The dice are ~symbolic because someone’s playing dice with her life” or have I been watching too much good tv.
She is running somewhere in the countryside, wearing a white shirt (is this the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown?). She says something is not right. He’s worried. Then he hears gunshot and her scream. He does the Alarmed Jared face, presses lips together and does a Upset Jared face.
Then he goes out, tries to call her again, and again, does a Jared Upset Sniff--
Oh! We actually see her! She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the stomach. Her white shirt is definitely the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown! Ah the blood coming from the stomach! How terrible! Her phone is ringing but she cannot reach it. She is definitely alive right now, though. She’s breathing heavily because of the wound, which is breathing, which is the opposite of being dead.
He decides that she’s dead, and lets out the already infamous manly scream of anguish.
It would be sad if it wasn’t that literally one second ago we saw her wounded but alive. Her turning out alive in the season finale or so will shock everyone. Nobody will have seen it coming. Who wrote this? They should have just shown the ringing phone and her bloody hand/side, making the audience assume she was dead, instead of showing her breathing. Now the audience is gonna assume she didn’t actually die, and wonder “why didn’t he call someone or went looking for her” but apparently Jared’s characters have forgotten that, like, ambulances are a thing. Jared’s manly screams of anguish are more important than common sense.
I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m n
We’re just 4 minutes in, guys. Why am I doing this?
Eleven months later, says the screen.
It’s night, outside a house. The son is waiting for him. The daughter doesn’t think he’s coming. On the porch there are two men, one is his brother and one is apparently his former partner, now new boss. He’s dressed like you’d expect a normal person to be dressed in a casual Texan night, hat and tie and all. If you are law enforcement in Texas and don’t wear a cowboy hat at any moment, you will be executed. That’s what the death penalty in Texas is for.
Somebody arrives, but to the kids’ disappointment is some dude whose function is to tell us the men’s names. The brother is Liam, the cop dude I forgot.
Walker is being sad on the back of his truck and drinking alcohol, which is the only way television can express a man having trauma. Holy shit - he reminisces of his wife like this is some emotional Lord of the Rings scene in a place where Elves live except this is not the Lord of the Rings and is just ridiculous, look
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She’s seen running towards the gazebo, then she turns
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This is exactly shot like the scene where Arwen has a vision of her son. Flowy hair and all. I cannot take this seriously.
He smiles sadly. Then a cop car arrives.
Mexican Lady Cop(TM), whose function in the story is to be a Mexican Lady Cop(TM) asks for his licence since he’s drinking alcohol in a public place.
“You ask so nicely” drunk Walker says. Ew. “Yeah, they train the girls special” Oh! Can you see? She is the Feminist Icon who Takes No Shit from the Dude! I’m so excited. I am slowly losing the will to live.
She drives him home on the police car. His legs don’t fit. At least this is realistic.
He does exposition in the car, including “I needed to visit a ghost instead”. There-there was no need to say it. What’s the demographic they’re aiming for? Five year olds? Do they have to spell everything out loud?
“It’s been a while since I had an actual conversation” he says, which supposedly explains why he’s making awkward exposition, but it’s just bad writing. At least they acknowledge it’s bad writing.
She figures he’s law enforcement coming back from an undercover mission from some drunken ramble he makes. This is worse than the Sherlock phone cable port thing.
She says she just got promoted from state trooper, ehe she will work with him wink wink nudge nudge. Is she going to be a cop-buddy-character slash love interest except when they’re almost about to realize they’re into each other, his wife comes back and draa~ama? I can already see it.
He goes home, makes some Jared grunts, and falls asleep on the couch.
Next morning, he goes out and jogs to where he left the truck. He puts on a cowboy hat which is supposed to be an artistic shot.
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I’m slowly dying. He makes some Jared Deep Breaths, at least this made me laugh.
Wait, he’s now wearing a black hat. He’s in mourning, see? What.
He drives to his father’s ranch. His father is Super Not Impressed. It’s awkward. They took about horses. Mitch Pileggi is thinking that at least the other show was more exciting and there was Jensen Ackles in it.
He gets into his parents’ house and the dogs run to him, he does the Jared Dog Chuckle. He hugs his mom. He hugs his son - “August, my boy!” he says, like a normal person his age says.
He hugs his brother and they joke-wrestle and he says “I’m still the big brother” and did I mention I’m dying inside. I just can tell this is SUPPOSED to be reminiscent of Dean and Sam’s first meeting at Stanford in the pilot except Jared is the big brother now. Ew.
We learn that the brother is a DA and gay. All pilots suffer from Forced Exposition Syndrome but it’s like this isn’t even trying.
He goes to work and hugs (very manly hug of course) his friend-now-boss, who is called James. James asks him if he’s good and he’s like yeah I’m good, which our I’m Fine Lie Moment #1. Some things never change.
Enter the case of the week - a cop offered roadside assistance but he was assaulted. We’re already starting with a “Oh No Poor Cop :( Someone Doesn’t Like Cops And Gets Violent” plot. Yay.
Ta-da! Mexican Lady Cop appears, cowboy hat and all. James says she’s Walker’s new partner. My heart cries while Walker says “figured you’d be a guy” and she replies “so did my mom”. The feminism is so strong :’) She’s such a strong female character :’) I’m so happy :’)
Then Walker makes such a quintessential Jared thing with his mouth that I need to stop this here and take a break.
It’s been 13 minutes. So much still to go. I’m bored. Why am I doing this.
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bijoharvelle · 3 years
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a coda of sorts for 15.18 Despair. MAJOR HUGE SPOILERS for the episode so please proceed with caution if you haven’t watched yet (has anyone not watched yet??) angst with a hopeful ending.
Here’s what doesn’t happen: Cas smiles and laughs through his tears and says, “You changed me, Dean.”
There’s a beat of uncertainty but through it, Dean steps forward. He walks towards Cas. This is an angel of the Lord who followed him from Hell, who came when he called and betrayed his trust and earned it back. An angel who gave up an army, a Host, his Grace, the favor of his brothers and sisters, all for Dean. So Dean steps forward and hesitantly puts a hand to Cas’s waist. “Why does this sound like a goodbye?” he asks.
“Because it is.” Cas voice shakes and shatters and he leans into Dean’s touch. He presses one hand, palm bloody, to Dean’s shoulder and cups it there. “I love you,” he says, and it’s sure and strong. They’re called love confessions but this feels more like an absolution, like a benediction. 
Dean can feel the press of Cas’s hand as he tries to push him away, out of the way, because there’s a teeming wall of void that’s opened behind them but Dean holds his ground.
They meet in the middle, Dean holding Cas at his waist and the collar of his trench coat and kissing him like he needs it to breath. He can feel the shudder-shock of Cas’s breath in the kiss, shaky inhale to clipped exhale. There are tears on Cas’s cheeks pressing into his own and Dean, stupidly, thinks, I’ve never seen him cry. He’s seen Cas’s blue eyes go glassy and red, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen them spill over.
One of his hands moves to cradle the back of Cas’s head, fingers in that fucking hair of his and when Cas breaks the kiss, Dean holds him there, keeps him close. Their noses bump, foreheads brush, and Dean doesn’t know if he’s crying or if it’s just Cas’s tears on his face. “Don’t do this, Cas,” he says and it’s begging. I’m not one for praying because in my books it’s the same as begging. “Please. Castiel.”
Before he knows what’s happening, cold air rushes to fill the space that was once Cas. Dean sees just the edges of the Empty’s tendrils, black and shimmering and all-consuming. He turns on the balls of his feet just in time to watch the rift against the wall close up.  
Here’s what doesn’t happen: Cas tells him that it is a goodbye and Dean shakes his head, hard. “No,” he counters, “No. This isn’t happening.” And he puts himself in Cas’s space, curves his hand around the back of his neck. He holds him there and meets his eyes, like he had with Jack, just a few months ago. “You’re family, Cas. We don’t give up on family, even if looks like there’s nothing left.”
“Dean--”
But Dean rushes to cut him off. “I love you,” he says and he can feel his cheeks getting hot, his throat thickening. “Okay? Cas. I love you. And I need you here. Cas, please.” 
Cas smiles, beatific, and Dean can’t help but think that he’s beautiful, incandescent. An angel of the Lord, here with him. “I love you too, Dean,” he says and he’s smiling, the tone in his voice is almost laughter. “Please remember that. I’ve loved you, all this time.” He presses his hand to Dean’s shoulder and Dean remembers, for a brief moment, Hell. He remembers Cas reaching down and pulling him out.
When the Empty reaches out, when it takes Cas, Dean isn’t ready. He screams and dives for the eddying mass of nothing but you can’t put your hands on something that isn’t. The wall closes back to its industrial brick and Dean is alone, pounding until his knuckles split.
Here’s what happens: Sam is feral with worry as they make the near eight-hour drive back to the bunker. Jack has his phone, calling everyone Sam can think of between trying Dean and Cas over and over again. Dean’s phone keeps ringing out to his voicemail. The calls to Cas drop as soon as they get placed. 
The car is still running, thrown into park at an angle up against the bunker’s entrance and once they’re inside, both Jack and Sam are screaming for Dean and Cas. Sam is sure that he’s going to find Dean’s phone on the floor, shattered, with all those messages and calls collecting, just like Eileen’s. He doesn’t know what to expect of Cas.
He and Jack end up skittering into the basement together, trailing a ragged, scorched scratch-mark on the wall. And then, they find him.
“Dean!” Sam shouts and slides to his knees. He takes his brother’s face in his hands and makes him meet his eyes. Dean’s chest is working, eyes wet and red and Sam’s heart sputters. “What the hell happened, man?” He handles Dean gently because he thinks he has an idea. Thumbs come up, to brush away the tears, like Dean always did for him when they were kids, when they weren’t kids.
“Cas is gone,” Dean gasps out. “He’s gone, he’s really gone.” And he pitches forward, shaking. His fingers bite into Sam’s shoulders so hard he’s sure there will be bruises and all Sam can do is cradle his brother to his chest.
Jack drops to the floor, burying his face into Dean’s shoulder and letting out his own grief. Through it all, Sam sits and holds his brother, puts his hand to the back of their kid’s head and tries to keep them all together.
It takes awhile. He has to coax Dean to his feet and then up into the kitchen - his brother looks like a man possessed, like a ghost, like a ghoul, like something already dead. Jack follows him like a lost duckling, trailing behind Sam as he settles Dean at the table and then makes coffee because it’s something he knows how to do.
“Dean,” he says softly, once they’re all sitting together with steaming mugs. “You gotta tell us what happened.” And he knows, he understands. He remembers just yesterday - God, was it only yesterday - how it felt to know that if you say it, if you acknowledge it, your whole world will fall apart and you’ll be useless. I can’t go there. But they need to know, so they can make a plan.
It comes out in halting spirals, in between whining breaths and deep shudders. More than once, Dean trails toward guilt, toward shame, toward I should have done something, why didn’t I do anything. Sam redirects him as firmly as he can manage.
He’s known about Cas’s feelings for years - in fact, he’s pretty sure Cas had only just discovered it himself when he came to Sam. They didn’t talk about it often but when they did, Cas was gingerly ecstatic at just being near Dean, just sharing space with him. He would have been content to follow Dean through the rest of his life without having said a word.
When Dean finishes, tells them that the Empty took Cas and Billie disappeared, he folds his arms on the table and buries his head. Jack, sitting next to him, puts a hand to his arm and fits his face into Dean’s shoulder. Sam watches as, slowly, Dean shifts one hand to cover Jack’s.
Sam lets them have a moment, let’s them mourn and revel in the mourning, but then he dips his head and says, “Dean, this is good.”
His brother picks his head up so fast he almost brains Jack.
“It’s the Empty,” Sam rushes to explain. “We know how it works. We know what it wants. We know exactly where Cas is and how to get there.”
Dean blinks through new tears tessellating his lashes. “You... You mean get him back?” His voice is shot to hell and it breaks when he says him, like he was going to say Cas’s name. But for the first time since they split up last night, Sam thinks he sees something like hope blossom over Dean.
“I mean get him back.”
Dean didn’t tell Sam, word for word, what Cas said but Sam has always known that his brother operates from love. He was the kid, after all, who Dean raised. Dean wiped his tears and kissed his skinned knees and proofread his essays and taught him about cars and girls and drinking and their father. Sam is alive and the person he is today because of Dean’s love.
So it’s tragic and terrible and it hurts. He hurts for his brother and Jack, he hurts for Cas and Eileen and Donna and everyone else, but he’s also, suddenly, alive with the gift that Chuck and the Empty have given them.
Sam watches as Dean realizes it in degrees. He straightens his shoulders back and wipes a hand down his face. He looks to Jack and, so tenderly, reaches out to clear away his tears too. And then, Sam watches as his brother smiles. “Hell yes, we’re gonna get him back.” Dean watches Jack until the kid tries for a smile and then he turns to Sam and he sees there’s a smile already there.
The thing that Chuck doesn’t understand, that the Empty can’t understand, is everything the Winchesters have ever done, has been family. And it’s been for love. So taking these cosmic entities out with love as the power chord running under their mission...
Well, let’s just say they’ve got work to do. 
-
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What if hallucifer stayed with Sam throughout the whole show? What if cass didn't really fix the problem, but only took the pain away?
Sam walks out of that hospital knowing he's not alright. Knowing he's never gonna be alright. He gets into shotgun, dean smiling next to him warmly, Lucifer smiling at him from the back seat. Cold dead eyes.
Lucifer is there with him when dean and cass get blasted to who knows where. Crowley tells him he's all on his own, Lucifer laughs next to him.
He meets Amelia, but eventually she leaves him. He doesn't blame her, who would want to be with a guy who talks to air and barely sleeps? He starts drinking a lot after that.
Dean comes back, from purgatory apparently. He doesn't know about lucifer, Sam never told him, didn't want to make himself a bigger burden for his brother. So he lies, tells him he was with Amelia this whole time. Dean gets angry. Sam knew he would, but it's easier this way.
Lucifer is with him when they find the bunker, commenting on the ugly lamps. Sam snickers, dean looks at him weird, but doesn't say anything.
Lucifer is with him when he completes the first trial. He looks down to Sam who is covered in blood. He points to the dead hellhound. "I knew that one." He says. "Her name was Ashley."
Lucifer is with him when he goes to hell to rescue bobbys soul. "I did not miss this place." Lucifer whispers next to him. A shiver goes down Sam's spine.
Lucifer is with him when he's just about to finish the last trial. Lucifer always keeps quiet when Sam is completing trials, something about "purification." Sam doesn't really know, he mostly blocks him out.
He's there when dean comes and stops him. He's yelling at Dean, telling him to go, leave them. But dean cant hear him, he knows he cant hear him. Sam doesnt know why Lucifer even tries.
Lucifer is in the back seat of the impala when Sam wakes up. He doesn't remember getting into the impala. He remembers passing out in the mud in front of the church. His clothes are clean now though. Lucifer is quiet.
Lucifer has stopped talking to him, he just hovers now. It's driving Sam mad. He's not used to the strange silence, but he doesn't suspect anything weird until he starts losing fragments of his day.
He starts noting down time frames that he loses. He started when he was researching in the library at 2:45pm, blacked out, and came to in the kitchen at 3:14pm. Lucifer stays out of his way. Sam sometimes thinks he has a look of pity on his face, but that can't be right, can it?
Sam eventually asks dean about this. His brother just brushes him off. Lucifer continues to hover.
Crowley comes and saves him. Sam kicks the angel out. He opens his eyes to see Lucifer staring at his brother. "I guess sammy has a thing for kicking angles out."
Deans starting to get suspicious. Sam's zoning out more and more. Eyes glazing over as he just listens to Lucifer ramble on about nothing. About everything.
"You good Sammy?" Dean asks him one day while they're eating breakfast. Sam answers too fast. Dean only gets more suspicious.
Dean eventually finds out, Sam knew he would sooner or later. He finds dean with alcohol more often now. A look of guilt is permanently stuck on Sam's face.
"Its not your fault Sammy." Dean always tells him. Sam is finding it harder to believe him.
Sam zones out more often. The only thing that can bring him back is deans touch. Deans heavy hand on his shoulder bringing him back down to earth, grounding him. Deans always looking at him with this sad smile. Sam feels like he's failed him.
Lucifer is with him when he finds out dean got the mark of Cain. "Oh that's a nasty little thing." Lucifer comments next to him. Sam has taken to ignoring him, it eases deans mind.
Dean is getting worse and worse. And so is Sam. Dean is slowly losing care for Sam and he's not there for him anymore. He's not there to ground him, to pull him back.
Sam starts zoning out for longer periods of time. Dean doesn't seem to care, only rolls his eyes. Lucifer watches perched on a chair next to him. "Does big bro not love you anymore?" Sam flinches.
Lucifer is there when dean dies.
Lucifer is there when Sam finds the note. "Aww big brother left you." Lucifer laughs.
Sam is spiralling. Lucifer talks to him more and more as Sam searches for his brother. No-one is there to ground him anymore. No-one is there to help him. One day Sam accidently talks back to Lucifer. Lucifer looks shocked for half a second before that cold smirk comes back to his face.
"Its been years since you talked to me Sammy." Lucifer says one day as Sam is reading a book on demons. "I missed our little talks." Sam slams the book shut. "Shut up." He hisses.
Lucifer is right there as Sam ducks down to avoid the hammer. "I never knew why Alastair liked this one." Cass appears. Thank god. Sam falls back against the wall and helplessly covers his ears. He knows it won't block him out. "Sure he ripped apart a lot of souls in hell, but a hammer?" Sam hits his head against the wall. "Shut up shut up shut up." Lucifer laughs at him. Cass pays him no mind.
Lucifer is there when the darkness is unleashed. "Ooh aunty." He says next to Sam. Sam flinches, dean places a hand on his arm. All three stand there and watch.
"You know, I find it really uncomfortable that your brother has a thing for my aunt." Lucifer says one day. Sam looks him right in the eye. "Shut up, Lucifer." Sam hasn't looked directly at Lucifer for at least 3 years. Lucifer smiles coldly at him as dean walks up to Sam, worry and fear etched into his face. Palms out towards him like he's trying not to scare off a frightened animal. Sam doesn't feel too far off from that.
Lucifer is with Sam when he goes to see real Lucifer. Sam thinks he's going crazy.
"So, you're still seeing me huh?" Real Lucifer asks him. Sam sucks in a breath as Lucifer stands to the side of the cage. "Oh c'mon Sam. I've been inside that head of yours. There's nothing I don't know about you." Real Lucifer smiles down at him. Or is it fake Lucifer? Sam doesn't know anymore.
Lucifer is with him as he gets tourted by the British men of letters. Always sending words of encouragement, towards Toni.
Lucifer is sitting on the steps. "Ah remember our lovely time down under?" He asks, titling his head to get a better view of what the lady was doing. "Ooh blowtorch. You never did like fire huh?" Sam screams. He can bearly hear Lucifers laughter over his own screams of pain.
Dean comes and saves him. Hands all over him as soon as they're out. Lucifer rolls his eyes at them. "Mother hen." Sam tenses up.
Lucifer is there when their mother leaves them. "I guess everyone hates ya huh Sammy?" Lucifer smiles at him. Dean doesn't react, doesn't even look at him.
"Never did like the brits." Lucifer says one day. Sam smiles. Deans hands are on him straight away.
Lucifer is there when Jack is born. Lucifer is there when cass is killed. Sam thinks he's seeing double, two Lucifers talking to him at the same time.
One Lucifer stays with him, one goes with his mother. He's not sure which is which. So he asks. Lucifer laughs at him. Dean doesn't put a hand on him.
Dean always stands closer to him after that, he's always making sure that they're touching, that they're shoulders are brushing. Lucifer gets annoyed at dean. Tries to hurt him. Sam sleeps less and less, just in case, just in case one day Lucifer succeeds.
Lucifer sits right next to Sam one day, getting all up in his personal space. Dean isn't in the room. Sam silently sobs.
Lucifer is always hovering around Jack, making terrible remarks about the kid. Sam snaps one day. "Leave him alone!" Lucifer smiles at him, Jack looks up at him like a confused puppy, and dean is dragging him out of the room, his fingers digging into his shoulder blade.
Jack has started to avoid him after that. Dean tells him not to worry about it, but it breaks Sam's heart. Lucifer laughing at him for it all the time is not helping.
Lucifer is there when the vampires get him. Cheering to the side of the cave. And Lucifer is there when he wakes up. He didn't know that it was the real Lucifer.
Lucifer is with him when he makes it back to Dean, both of them. Sam only knows which one is real beacuse everyone is looking at that one. Sam feels like he's failed Dean, again.
Dean hugs Sam, but it doesn't feel real, it doesn't feel right. Lucifer pokes his blood caked neck, Sam jerks away from dean. Dean looks at him with heart broken eyes.
Deans hand is on him all the time now. Holding his arm, brushing their shoulders together. It makes Sam feel jumpy.
Sam makes sure Lucifer stays in this world. He doesn't know which one he trapped, but he hopes it was fake Lucifer. Real Lucifer is easier to deal with.
Lucifer is there when real Lucifer is killed. Sam smiles at him.
"So much for your win Sammy." Lucifer says one day while Sam is sitting in the darkness of his room. "Sure you killed me, but you lost your big brother." Sam wishes he could punch him.
Lucifer is there when Sam gets dean back.
Dean makes a comment on his beard. "Don't listen to him Sammy." Lucifer says as dean walks off. "I think you look good." Sam shaves his beard off after that.
Lucifer is there when Michael possesses dean again. He's laughing the whole time. Dean won't help him, can't help him. Dean is gone.
"Let him in the box Sam!" Lucifer suddenly snaps at him one day, making Sam jump. "Get rid of Michael!" Sam starts to cry. It's too much, not even deans touch is helping him anymore. It feels wrong, alien.
Nick attacks him, Lucifer is cheering him on. "Ah I wish he was my true vessel!" Lucifer exclaims as Sam's vision darkens.
Mary is dead, Jack is gone. "Bye bye mother Mary." Lucifer sings. Sam flinches, dean doesn't care.
"Oh so you can't put your brother in that box, but you sure as hell can put my son in?" Lucifer is yelling in his ear. Sam punches the air. Deans hands on him don't help.
Chuck comes back. Lucifer snarls at him, never stops yelling at him. It's hard for Sam to pay attention to anything, he can't hear anything over Lucifers yelling. Deans hand is on his shoulder the whole time, but he seems out of it.
Lucifer was quiet for a while after God killed Jack. Sam counts his blessings.
Lucifer is there when they rendered chuck powerless. He seems to have a grateful look on his face.
Lucifer isn't there when dean dies.
Lucifer isn't there when miracle dies.
Lucifer is there when Sam's on his death bed. He's standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest. He waves, and Sam's vision fades.
Sam's free.
Sam's finally free.
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Text
New Life Pt.2
Word Count: 1,730
Characters: Young!Derek Hale, Zach Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore (brief), OC Characters, Reader
Pairings: Zach Salvatore x Platonic!Reader 
Warnings: angst, small fluff, TW: death
A/N: okay! since my other series is coming to an end, I decided to start this one up again. This series is a crossover between The Vampire Diaries and Teen Wolf, taking place after the Hale fire, in Mystic Falls. You do not need to know anything about Vampire Diaries to read this series, nor do you need to know much about Teen Wolf.
A/N 2: This series is sort of a pre-series to another series that I have planned after this one, which will take place around season 3 of teen wolf, and around season 4-5 of Vampire Diaries
Masterlist         Series Masterlist
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“Happy birthday (Y/N)!” you heard your mom’s voice as she walked into your room, waking you up.
You smiled softly, wrapping your arms around her.
“Thanks, Mom,” she stroked your cheek softly before kissing your forehead.
“Come get ready, there’s a surprise for you downstairs, okay?” she said.
You nodded your head before she hugged you once again.
“My baby’s growing up,” she said to herself, before leaving your room.
---
Your body shot up in your bed as you opened your eyes, taking deep breaths. You were still in your room at Zach’s house. You let out a shaky breath before looking at the clock. It was only 4. There was no way you were going back to sleep now.
You continued to sit on your bed for a while, taking a breath while you thought back to the events of the past year. It had already been one year, something you seemed to have trouble gripping. It was now April 16th, your 16th birthday came.
You changed your clothes, trying to keep your mind off what today was as you tied up your hair, leaving a note for Zach that you’d be out on a run. Music and running always seemed to help clear your mind. You raised the volume as high as it would go, plugging in both headphones before you walked out of the house.
---
“Mom?” you walked downstairs, finding your boyfriend instead of your mom.
“Jay, what are you doing here?!” you exclaimed happily, while he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“You thought I was gonna forget your birthday?” he smirked, making warmth flutter throughout your body.
“I’m really happy you’re here,” you felt a slight blush on your cheeks.
“I wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, come with me.”
---
You dug your nails into your hand, walking into school.
The only thing you could think of was your mom. You knew what happened was all your fault and your mom was the one who had to suffer because of your dumb mistakes.
“Hey, happy birthday, (Y/N),” you heard Dean’s voice from behind you as you turned to face him.
“Uhm, thanks,” you gave him a tight smile.
“You idiot!” you saw Emily yell at Dean, before smacking his arm.
“Ow!” he exclaimed.
“Don’t you remember last year? She doesn't want to celebrate her birthday this year!” Emily whisper-yelled, and seemed to forget about you standing right there.
“Em, leave him be. I’m fine. But we need to get to class,” your and Emily’s relationship was confusing to most people.
The two of you hated each other, but were always the first ones in line to protect one another from anything or anyone. Sometimes, she would annoy you, but other times you were grateful, not that you’d ever admit that to her.
Emily wrapped her arm around your shoulder.
“You don't have to pretend to be so brave,” she squeezed you in a tight hug while you groaned.
“Emily, really, get to class,” you saw Derek approaching you, looking a little upset.
Oh, great 
“I was under the impression that you were gonna give me a ride to school today,” he started.
“Oh, what made you think that?” you were slightly annoyed by him while he groaned.
“Because! I asked you last night! You said that you’d give me a ride,” he replied.
“Okay, wolf-boy, calm down. It was an accident,” you rolled your eyes, leaving Derek standing there with his mouth open, in shock.
Just as he thought the two of you were becoming friends.
You walked into your first-period class, sitting in your seat.
----
“Mom?” you groaned softly, putting your head up as you squinted your eyes, looking around the dark room.
“Mom!” you felt the ropes tied to your wrists and ankles as panic began to rise in your chest.
“Mom!” you cried out again.
“(Y/N)! I-I’m right here,” she cried out.
The lights flipped on, while you saw your mom in front of you, tied to a chair with blood dripping from wounds.
Your eyes watered immediately, as you tried to pull yourself out of the ropes, screaming out for your mom.
“(Y/N), calm down,” your mother’s voice remained calm while you cried softly.
“Mom, you’re bleeding,” you cried.
“I know, I know, kiddo. Just stay calm,” she said softly.
“W-Who… Who did this?” your voice was shaking as you saw a familiar figure walk into the room.
“J-Jay… what are you doing?”
---
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” you peaked your head up, hearing your teacher call your name.
“Yes, sir,” you cleared your throat.
“What’s the equation?” you flipped through your notebook, before reading it aloud.
“A squared plus B squared plus C times x plus D times x plus E,” your teacher gave you a look before looking back at the board.
“Did you just fall asleep?” you heard Derek whisper to you.
“Shut up, I’m trying to learn,” you replied.
“What's going on with you? Really? You're acting differently,” he asked.
“Shut up, Derek,” you said again.
“Derek, (Y/N). Detention,” you rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw before glaring at him.
His face softened before he leaned back in his chair.
“Now, open up to page 384…”
---
“You got me detention! I’m allowed to be mad at you!” you slammed the door shut as you and Derek entered the Salvatore house.
“I already said sorry! I just wanted to know what’s wrong-” 
“Have you ever considered that you’re my problem?! You with your constant blabbering! I couldn't care less about you and your life!” you yelled at him, while he flinched.
Your face softened before you clenched your jaw.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed.
“Don’t… I’ll leave you alone,” you could feel guilt immediately washing over you as he walked away, going to his room while you heard the door close.
“(Y/N)?” Zach walked to you, looking concerned.
You groaned softly, before shaking your head.
“I was being dumb,” you replied softly.
“What’s wrong?”
---
“What did we ever do to you?!” you screamed, watching as your boyfriend tied a cloth around your mom's mouth, holding a knife to her throat.
“She killed my parents!” he yelled.
“N-No, you’re getting it confused, o-okay?” you cried.
“So your mom isn’t an ex-hunter?” he scoffed.
“S-She… She is but she never did anything wrong!” you cried.
“My family was innocent!” he yelled. you saw his eyes glow grey, while he growled at you.
“Tell her what happened, Mrs. (Y/L/N)...”
---
“(Y/N),” you heard Zach knock at your door as you wiped your tears, sitting up.
“Is Derek okay? I-I didn't mean to scare… I would never hurt him,” you said softly.
“I think he was just surprised. But he’s fine. He’s actually asking how you’re doing,” Zach sighed.
“I’m fine,” you shrugged.
“Do you think I forgot what today is?” he sat down on your bed next to you.
You looked down, keeping your focus on your hands.
“What happened… what happened was terrible, and there's no way to fix it or make it go away,” Zach started.
“Zach, stop,” you shook your head, blinking back your tears. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your words.
“I-I…” your voice cracked as you dug your nails into your palms.
“Every time I close my eyes, I can see my mom dying. I-I can see Jay killing her,” you buried your face in your lap, trying to hold back your cries.
“You never told me that before,” he said.
“I thought you’d be mad at me,” you said softly.
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“B-Because… you were ready to propose to my m-mom, and then I got her killed,” he caressed your back, trying to calm you.
“It wasn’t your fault. Things happen for a reason,” you knew he wouldn't be able to convince you it wasn't your fault, so you just nodded your head.
“How about you get some rest?” he kissed your forehead softly while you nodded before he left your room.
---
“Your family killed people. That’s why they’re dead,” you spat.
“(Y/N), just stop. Jay, I-I’m so, so sorry,” your mom apologized.
“No! It’s too late! They're dead!” he yelled.
“Jay, please. The past is the past. Please don’t hurt her,” you begged.
“She killed my parents and I had to watch. Now you’ll know how it feels,” you screamed out while he dragged the knife into her throat, while you watched the blood drip from her throat, her body going limp.
You cried loudly, screaming out as you pulled as hard as you could, trying to break free of the ropes.
“(Y/N)? Oh my god,” Stefan ran to you, taking the ropes off as he gasped, looking at your mom.
You fell into his arms, sobbing as he wrapped his arms around your shaking figure, trying to calm you.
---
You stood in front of Derek’s door, debating on whether or not to go in or not. You felt guilt for what you did to him, but were never one that was good with confrontation.
You froze in front of the door, before it opened, Derek’s surprised look in front of you.
“(Y/N),” he replied.
“Hey! Uhm, well, I just wanted to say…” you started, your voice drifting off.
He crossed his arm, leaning against his doorway, with a small smirk on his face.
“Well, don’t strain yourself,” he muttered.
You gasped, smacking his arm lightly before shaking your head, earning a small chuckle from him.
“I wanted to say sorry for snapping at you, okay? You don’t have to be an asshole,” you replied.
“Wow, thank you for that, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been on you,” you could hear the sarcasm in his voice as you rolled your eyes.
“I’m trying to be nice,” you scoffed.
“Oh, yeah, I forgave you hours ago. It’s just fun to see you like this,” he laughed.
“Derek!” you started.
“I know it’ll kill you to talk about. Now, what do you say we just go to a movie, and you pay, okay?”
“Oh, god, yes,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder before the two of you made your way downstairs.
“Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” you raised an eyebrow, before he gave you a look, walking out of the house with you.
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