#yea I’ve gotta drop this fic now that I know we have the same brain worms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunar-lair · 4 years

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Uh,,ok so like,,,,,,,I had this? Idea? And I just wanted to know what people thought of it before I actually wrote it, so uh. Yeah

(Sidenote, this is basically an outline/bulletfic? Like it's Mostly fleshed out in terms of concept but that doesn't mean it's a full Fic yknow? I plan on...hopefully, eventually...writing this Fully. I just wanted to get input on just how off base my characterization is and shit...hehe. Also my excuse for any weird writing is that I wrote this in the bath and I was trying to go Fast so my water wouldn't get cold. Anyways notes over bye)

Named 'Cleaved Apart, Cleaved Together': abt The Split and how the two were separated (physically AND emotionally) and then how they bond again after Remus is accepted and the boys like,,,,,,accept each other as Bros again

At first I was thinking No Fusion but also like,,,I really like the idea of them fusing again on accident when they're really super happy or in sync

So after a Lot of bonding-chilling in the Imagination, just fucking around with each other, and even talking thru shit together-they finally manage it.

They were just in the common room with all the other sides, maybe setting up for a movie night or something?

They came rushing down the stairs, talking frantically together about a new idea they had while pushing each other lightly with every silly tease and making jokes about old shenanigans that only they could really understand

(Patton and Janus could remember days before The Split, when the two were one.

Janus could still remember them shouting not to be seperated.

Patton still hated the fact that it was basically his decision to keep them apart.

Thank the Lord they were close again.)

The two finally stepped into their usual spot in front of the tv, chatting with each other and the others

Eventually, they ended up talking about some stuff they'd made together. Some plans they'd been making together. They finally told a joke at the same time that got them falling over each other laughing,

And then it happened.

There was a flash of light and then-and then-

It wasn't King. It wasn't Creativity, the original.

But it was them.

Patton and Janus only sat there, teary eyed with dropped jaws, and Virgil and Logan began questioning what the FUCK was up, how are two sides fusing-?

And Roman and Remus sat there, tearing up before laughing a moment.

"Roman."

"Remus."

Two almost-different voices right after one another, happier than any of them had ever heard them.

"We need to talk about this separately though, hm?" Roman, with a laugh.

"Yeah."

Another flash and he was gone, replaced by the brothers again who shook their heads, in a bit of disarray.

"Was that ok?" They asked at the same time, staring at each other.

"We don't have to be him anymore...I mean, we're our own people now Remus."

"Yeah, but that was FUN!" Remus replied, throwing his arms around Roman.

Roman laughed. "Then maybe every now and then?"

And Remus just laughed back. "Why the Hell not!"

They finally turned at the sound of a sniffle.

Janus was crying, and Patton wasn't really much better. Logan and Virgil seemed bewildered, though Logan a little less so.

"Janus? Patton? I understand you remember original Creativity more vividly than we do, but I do not understand what elicited sadness. Are you alright?"

Janus gave a watery laugh, wiping away some tears. "God, I couldn't be better."

Remus and Roman stopped, their smiles finally dropping. Roman reached forward, arm just a few inches in front of Janus. "Did we...do something wrong?"

Janus smiled again and shook his head, tugging on Roman's arm. "Come here you dork."

Patton pulled Remus in along with them and they all ended up in a little cuddle pile, Logan and Virgil joining in too, on the outside, bc Bitch, We're Worried Too.

Remus looked up at them, just Confused. "Then what's up??"

Janus and Patton's smiles dimmed a bit, and Janus began with a sad smile; "It's...simply a long story."

"That long story short, though, uh…" Patton continued, rubbing a hand on his neck nervously. "Wellll...the Split was really scary…"

Janus chuckled. "Exactly. Imagine the friend you've known since you were born splitting into two all of a sudden with ear-ringing screams to match."

"And then, after that…"

"You...decided to split those sides of him...just because one wasn't as perfect as the other."

Patton looked down and held Remus a little tighter. "...that was...mostly my decision."

Janus gave him a Look that simply meant 'we've talked abt that Way too much dude' and moved on. "But either way...it was...well…"

"Neither of you remember it, but...you...didn't want to be split."

Janus smiled again, sweet as honey. "And even after all we did...you two still managed to stick together."

"And even if the person you make now wasn't who he used to be-and it shouldn't be, really-it was like…"

"...seeing two...old friends you used to know meeting again."

"Or seeing two pieces of a whole come together again to make something even more than what they started with."

Janus teared up a little again, gripping them a little tighter. "It's so great to see you two whole again."

Remus and Roman had memory upon memory of feeling...empty. Like there was a piece missing of them. Like nothing they made was quite right. And since they had started to bridge their gap, they'd finally felt that emptiness filling up.

Janus and Patton could remember so, so many times where the two of them had missed their brother, where they told them something wasn't right-especially in the beginning.

Even Logan had memories of trying to figure it out with Roman.

Virgil remembered plenty of days where Remus just seemed off, but couldn't explain what was wrong, and...no matter how little Virgil understood, he would sit with him and try to ward it off anyways.

Remus and Roman laughed, eyes teary, and locked hands between them all.

"Yeah.

We're glad too."

And now for my myriad of Notes:

I was actually thinking of just some kind of melding shit for the fusion bc I thought it would be Cool but then I realized it was Thomas' brain so it'd probably look like the shit from SU. Big F :///

Sorry for any inconsistencies, I was giving .2 shits at the time and also In The Tub, so

Me, a bitch who has siblings but isn't very close to them emotionally: *shaking my phone wildly* hoW THE FU CK DO I WRITE BRO THERS INTERACTING S O F T L Y-

I'm Certainly planning on more stuff coming from Virgil and Logan, we can't leave them out

I'm Aware that 80% of this isn't canon, but,,,,last I checked we didn't really care here? So??

For the scene after Roman and Remus defuse, I'm honestly thinking more of smth where the two go to one of their rooms and talk it out and THEN go back to the commons to check on The Boys and o h sh it why are Janus and Patton crying-

Answer: they thought they'd fucked everything up for them but they didN'T! FUCK YEA!!!

Idk how to explain,,,Why they're emotional abt this actually

Like...idk. Um...they both care for both of them and didn't want them to be separated Permanently bc they Knew they didn't feel right w/out each other?

Ok that works

Anyways but uh

Then Logan and Virgil get to ask some questions and THEN we get to the part where Janus and Patton explain why they are In Tears

Also Logan wasn't as old as Pat and Jan when Creativity split, so he doesn't really...remember it

Virgil was probably Very New tbh

The opening scene is ABSO LUT ELY going to Extremely metaphorical and sad and like 'two pieces of a whole cleaved apart' yknow

Gotta make angst to make that fluff!!

Also don't ask me why Janus falls apart Even Harder than Patton does here man, I think he's just On The Mind and I'll make our dad friend more emotional in Post, I Promise

Also pls hmu if the shit I've managed to put here so far is So Out There it's Impossible, I've written Janus one (1) time and I have written Remus zero (0) times ok

Also Remus and Roman don't...really remember much of the split. They remember feeling whole and then empty and whole again, and they have some of OG Creativity's memories, but the Split and moments following are...Foggy. Rightfully so, aswell, tbh.

Also how I imagine it going is like,,,,the boys are split, they hang out for a bit, and then they're taken by their respective Parent(ish) and are taught Entirely Differently and therefore grow to dislike each other!!!!!!!

patton has oh so much to regret.

They could've been Brothers...

Oh my God they could've been Br ot her s...............

Patton and Janus at 3 am crying over the fact they separated the boys at the Split be like:

Anyways!! My whole point is that Hopefully any problems will be Fixed when I actually write it but I just wanted to get the concept out there and uh,,,,,,yeah

Anyways uh *shuts my door* yea that's that,,,thanks for coming to my ramblings ig

(I'm so sorry I can't put a read more, I'm on mobile,,,)

#sanders sides #ts deceit #ts remus #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #creativitwins #catch me crying over the twins 24/7 #ts logan #i forgot logan;;#i wrote the whole og idea in google docs on a ideas doc #it ended up......Way longer than i anticipated #also f for us mobile users in the chat #trash talks #long post #lots of text #sorry;; :'(

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eccentriccowboy · 5 years

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Assassin// pt. 3

Synopsis: Luke confronts his target with the help of y/n and her secret weapon.

Can you tell I’m not good at synopsis’?? that was god awful just read the god damn fic ok

Pairing: Slow burn bestfriend!Luke x reader

Warnings: None besides my lack of proofreading.

Word Count: 1.9 k

Notes: Im so so sorry this took so long to write life has been all over the place for me at the moment.

part 1 and part 2 here!!

also i cant stop staring at calum leaning back on michaels arm and just wow what couple goals. and also ashton glaring back at them bc michaels touching his man.

*****

As the number of players dwindled down Luke was beginning to become more and more anxious. I better not mess up now, like I usually do, Luke was thinking, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. I need another win. At least I’ve won twice, unlike Y/N.

Y/N. Fuck. She(He/they, idk who you are) is so focused on winning this year, it’s adorable. Part of me, the part that can’t stop thinking about her smile, or her laugh, or the way she says my name, wants to help her win; even if that means I lose. But the logical side of me is telling me that’s stupid, she hasn’t even shown she likes me back.

But she did kiss me on the cheek earlier today. Thinking about it made Luke’s heart clench tightly, a small smile at the memory tracing his lips. But she’s done that before, it probably wasn’t anything special, just a way of saying thanks. Luke reasoned with himself. But this one was different, it felt different. And she left so quickly afterwards. Was she nervous? Does she feel the same?

Luke shook his head, his feelings getting the best of him. He should be focusing on how to get Calum out. He’ll deal with you later. Luke turned on his side, trying to get more comfortable in the hopes of finally finding sleep. After a long while, he drifted off to dream, the feeling of your soft lips against his cheek never leaving his mind, no matter his state of consciousness.

*****

Luke woke early that morning to the sound of his phone ringing loudly. He quickly reached over to his nightstand, his heart clenching when he saw your name flash across the screen.

He ran a hand through his curls, even though you couldn’t see him, before pressing the ‘answer�� button.

“Yea?” he answered, his voice hoarse from his sudden awakening.

“Hey,” you replied, trying your best to not focus on how low and gruff his morning voice sounded. Damn it, he’s gonna be the death of you.

“Whya calling me so early?” he asked. “Not that I’m mad or anything, just like, wondering,” Luke cringed internally at his awkwardness, but thankfully enough you giggled.

“Well we’ve got Calum to get out, don’t we? Times a tickin’.“

Luke chuckled. “God damn, Y/N. You really wanna win this year, huh? You know this game could go on for weeks, really.”

You shrugged. “So what if I wanna be victorious a bit early?”

“Fair enough,” Luke agreed, “But what’s the plan? I can tell you’ve already made one up.”

You smirked mischievously. “Open up your door and find out,”

*****

Luke’s eyes widened. He didn’t know you were already here. He quickly rushed out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants before looking himself in the mirror and splashing water on his face.

He jumped to his door, opening up to see you and a guest waiting, smiling at each other. Luke’s jaw dropped, disbelief riding over him that you would go this far.

There in front of him stood Mali-koa, Calum’s sister, who he hasn’t seen in well over six months.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Y/N,” Luke laughed, bring Mali in for a hug. She laughed along with him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Once they stepped back from the hug, Luke ushered you two into his apartment, still in disbelief you’d go as far as to fly in Mali for this game.

Luke flopped on the couch, jiggling his knee in excitement, “I see you have brought a secret weapon,”

Mali laughed at that. “Is that all I am to you?”

The two of them dove into conversation, catching up like old buddied. They had grown up together, so seeing each other was always a pleasant occasion.

Meanwhile, you were a bit too busy trying to distract yourself with your phone to get your mind off of Luke, who was sitting two feet away. Shirtless.

It’s not like you haven’t ever seen him shirtless before, it just caught you off guard. Here you are trying to organize a plan to help him yet you could not stop staring at the line of silver necklaces that laid against his broad chest.

Mali and Luke’s conversation had drifted to this year’s game of Assassin. He had started to ask her about the plan, but apparently she didn’t know, either.

This led to you, the Puppet Master, if you will. You began to explain the plan, a rather simple one compared to the amount of work(going through trash) it took to get Michael and Ashton out. For this one, you really just get to sit back and watch the plan unfold.

*****

It started with a text. A short, quick one from Mali to Calum. Hey there, lil bro. Want a surprise gift?? You smirked as Mali sent it, waiting for Calum’s reply.

It did not take long for the response. Calum texted back a quick what? and just like that the plan was in action.

Mali revealed what was happening, or what Calum would think was happening. Wellll, I may or may not be in LA right now to visit you...

You giggled, knowing already that Calum won’t be able to turn this down. You kind of felt bad, taking advantage of Calum’s family connection just to win a game, or in this case for Luke to win, but to be fair, the Hoods were an easy-going family; And technically, you didn’t specifically tell Mali too come here to help trick her brother into losing, you more so just knew she was planning on visiting her brother soon and suggested she fly on the closest available day possible.

Mali boarded the next possible flight right after you two talked, knowing it’d be hilarious to not only trick Calum, but get to brag about it afterwards. And hey, she gets to see her brother, who she hadn’t seen in ages.

Calum started screaming at Mali over text, clearly showing his excitement over her being here. After countless texts, blowing up Mali’s phone, she suggested the two meet up. Calum immediately agreed.

They agreed to meet at a bar that was close to Mali’s hotel, the plan setting in place perfectly.

Luke started to get giddy with excitement, tricking his best friend bringing his great joy. He couldn’t believe he fell for this so easily.

Right when the three of you were getting ready to walk out the door, Mali’s phone rang.

“Shit, it’s Calum.” Mali answered the call, her bright face slowly falling. “Gimme a minute, ok?” she told the caller.

She put her hand over her phone, blocking out her next words. “He fucking remembered the game. He’s asking if I can just meet up with him at his place.”

Your face fell, the thought of the plan failing hitting you hard. But you did not get Mali to fly all the way over here just for a family reunion. Nuh-uh, Luke was going to get Calum out.

Luke was as determined as you are. “Tell him his place is really far from your hotel, you’re tired.”

Mali quickly reiterated the lines, going on about how much she did just to get here. Calum hesitated, but reluctantly agreed.

“Fine, just don’t post anything about where we’re gonna be. And for the love of god Mali, don’t you dare fucking talk to Luke,” he said before hanging up the phone.

Mali laughed, the adrenaline of this plan settling in. “Let’s go get that bastard out.”

*****

Kicking it in the passenger seat of Luke’s rental car was by far the easiest part of the night. The three of you had driven over to the bar, but you had stayed in the car, locked in and safe away from Calum, your attacker.

Meanwhile, Mali had walked into the bar, where she waits for her brother. Luke, on the other hand, was waiting in the men’s room, waiting for the queue from you to run and get Calum.

It wasn’t long until you saw Calum’s car pull up to the bar, right next to the rental. You slumped down in your seat, keeping your eyes trained on Calum’s body as he walked quickly into the bar, his head checking behind his shoulder, paranoid that Luke was here. And, oh boy, should he be.

You called Luke on facetime, wanting him to film when he got Calum out. He answered from the boys bathroom, and automatically knew what you were calling for. Excitement took over his features, and your heart warmed at his smile. You smiled back, and told him Calum had just entered the bar.

He kept you on facetime as he quietly opened the bathroom door and tiptoed his way around the wall, peaking around to see Mali and Calum hugging. Mali was smiling over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her brother, and as she opened her eyes she made eye contact with Luke, sending him a quick thumbs up.

Right as they were pulling away from the hug, Luke ran up from behind, placing both hands on Calum’s shoulders. Calum looked behind him, bewildered, before realization struck.

“Fuck, No! You’ve gotta be kiddin me!” Calum wailed. Luke broke out in a fit of laughter, you along with him. Mali giggled as well, wrapping her arm around her brother’s shoulders.

“Sorry, lil bro, Y/N’s got a devious brain, that one” Mali remarked, making you laugh harder over the phone.

“Fuck you, Y/N” Calum laughed. “I was planning to get you out tomorrow,”

“Well not anymore!” Luke hollered, ecstatic over his win.

“Well now you’ve gotta go up against her,” Calum reminded him, crossing his arms.

Mali laughed. “Good luck with that, she seems pretty determined this year.”

“Now get out of here, let me enjoy some time with my sister without you asshole” Calum said.

Luke said his goodbyes, before looking to you on facetime. “Alright, we only have the one car. So I say, I’ll drive us to my home, we can kick it there. No attacking the other. The game will start again tomorrow. Deal?” Luke questioned.

“Deal,” you agreed. “Let’s order some food.” you said, before hanging up and waiting for him to come back to the car.

Before he entered the rental, he reminded you of your deal, as if you didn’t just make it 30 seconds ago.

“Yes, I understand. Now just take me home. I’m tired.” you replied, the adrenaline from your plan succeeding wearing off.

He got in the car, a small smile still on his face, making you smile a bit, too. You leaned against the car window, admiring the man seated next to you. You two drove in comfortable silence, until he finally said: “Thank you for today. The plan and stuff, it was- it was really cool.” He smiled, turning his eyes away from the road to face you.

You smiled back, keeping eye contact until he had to face the road again. You kept looking at him, until you slowly drifted off to sleep in the passenger seat, only coming to consciousness once more later. When Luke had tucked you into his bed, pressing a small kiss to your forehead, the feeling of his soft lips on your forehead becoming engrained into your memory.

*****

thanks for reading!!

taglist for Assassin: @cashtonspicelatte @curlious

@wrappedaroundcal @teenswithbrokensmiles @lu-fakebetch @northangerpark

@summertime-acoustic @yasminesflowers @oh-annaa @that1girlmary

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hannahindie · 6 years

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The Grass Is Always Greener

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, Dean Word Count: 7,358 Warnings: Alcohol, weed, language, cracky goodness, so much smut. Just...just filth. Like a pinch of plot towards the end, but it’s like...guys, it’s just...you shouldn’t read it if you’re under 18. Hell, you maybe shouldn’t read it if you’re over 18. I mean, for me, anyway. It could be worse. But it’s all over the place, and there’s just a lot of it. So....here you go. A/N: This was written for @squirrel-moose-winchester‘s Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge. I’m gonna apologize ahead of time that there is more smut than crack, but it just...it just happened. I think I blacked out for part of it. Anyway, hopefully the cracky-ness is cracky enough!

Also, I had this amazing anonymous request: Prompty things challenge for you!! Scenario: Sam and Dean. Drinking (heavily) in the bunker. Sam pulls out weed. What do they do next? Also please include somehow, tank tops, honey, bad tv movies, whiskey, potato salad, giggling, toast, fuzzy slippers, silk, chores, falling,sleeping, and pie. :) Have fun with that!! So, scattered throughout this fic, is every single one of these things. I’m sorry if you weren’t expecting a ton of porn to go with it, but I hope, if you read this, you laugh as much as I did when I was trying to figure out how to get them all in there.

This was beta’d by my beautiful twinny @pinknerdpanda and my sweet, sweet @amanda-teaches, who also helped me name this crazy thing. This was a doozy to write, and you guys helped so much. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated it, especially while I was sick and had the fever brain.

“Shhh!”

“You shhhh! You're gonna wake her up!”

“I'm not the one theater whispering as if it's actually how real people whisper.”

I roll over, the urgent whispers outside my door waking me from the light sleep I'd managed to finally fall into.

“What do you call what you're doing? Listen, we jus’ gotta sneak in there, I'll grab it, and...and she’ll never even know.”

“W-w-what? Of course she's gonna notice!”

“Dean...listen...she's not gonna smoke it. She jus’ took it from that kid to scare him when we were interrogating him the other day, she’ll never even notice.”

“Dude, are you trying to make up for that time you smoked oregano? Ya don't have anythin’ to prove, man. Le’s just go drink some more.”

“Are you scared of Y/N? Is that it? ‘Cause I think you are.”

“S’bullshit! I ain't scared of shit.”

My door opens enough to let in a sliver of light, and I squint against the brightness. Two shadowy figures fill the doorway, jamming together as they both try to walk in at the same time.

“Can you get out of my way?”

“I was going first, you move!”

“Oh my God, you're actually the worst.”

A few mumbled curses later, Sam’s large form pops through the doorway, nearly colliding with the foot of my bed.

“Where are we even supposed to look, Sam? It could be anywhere in here.”

“I know exactly where to look.” He moves over to my dresser and pulls open the top drawer. His shoulders hunch when it squeals along the track, and I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling at the face I know he is making.

“How d’you know it's in there? You jus’ wanna go through her underwear drawer.”

“This is where she keeps secrets, Dean. And I know because I know things. I drink and I know things.”

“Okay, Tyrion, you don't even drink enough to say that. How d’you know where she keeps her secrets?”

“Tha’s my secret.”

I hear him rummaging around, the light on his phone on but not pointed at any specific place as he shifts things in the drawer, and I consider interrupting him, until I hear him gasp.

“Did you find it?” Dean’s whisper has become less of a whisper and more like a normal speaking voice.

“Umm, no, not yet. Just...gimme a minute.” I hear whatever is in his hand hit the wooden bottom of the drawer, and then the sudden violent vibrating of plastic as it reverberates through the room. “Oh, fuck.”

“What the hell, man? Turn it off!”

“I don’t know how I turned it on! Shit!”

I can’t hold it in anymore, and laugh.

“AH!” Sam screeches, and his phone flies out of his hand and nearly hits Dean in the face. “How long have you been awake?!”

I sit up and rub my eyes, blinking as Dean flips on the light, “Long enough to know you're both idiots.” I shift so my legs hang over the side of the bed, groping for my fuzzy slippers with my feet. I sigh contentedly when they slip into the soft, fuzzy material, then stand and shuffle sleepily to my dresser. Sam snorts and I give him a not so scathing glare. “What?”

“Those slippers are ridiculous.”

“You're ridiculous. And also a liar,” I accuse as I reach into my drawer and switch off the offending noise maker, “because I know you know how to turn this off.” Sam’s jaw drops and Dean looks at him with a mixture of curiosity and offense.

“What's she mean by that?”

“S’nothing, she's just...she's just playing around.” He gives a nervous laugh and I grin.

“Oh, playing around is one way you could put it.” I wink at Sam and Dean’s nose scrunches.

“I don't like what's happening.”

“You don’t have to. Now, both of you take your drunk asses back to the living room, and pour me a glass of whiskey so I can catch up to you two assholes. Go. Now.” The two of them shuffle out of the room, and I dig around in my dresser for a tank top and shorts. I grab the contraband Sam was looking for and walk down the hall and into the living room, where Sam and Dean are talking in hushed whispers.

“What are you guys whispering about?”

Dean looks up, a glint in his eyes, “We were just wondering how often you slept with no pants on.”

“At least one of you should know that answer.”

Dean gapes at Sam again, “Seriously, dude, what is she talking about?”

I grab the glass of whiskey they had obediently poured for me and throw it back, grimacing at the burn, “If you can’t figure it out by now, sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about it. Now, let’s get me caught up so we can get to what you were looking for.”

“Y/N...I don’t think that’s how you make potato salad…”

I turn around and point the wooden spoon at Sam, flinging bits of potato in his direction. He flinches and wipes a piece of rogue tuber from his cheek. “My grandmother taught me this recipe, and it has been passed down for generations.”

“One...I don’t think potato salad has existed for generations, and two, I’m pretty positive no recipe includes honey.” I look back at the bowl and frown, then back at Sam.

“I don’t have any mayonnaise. Honey’s the next best thing.”

“That sounds wrong.”

I shrug, then give another squirt of honey in the bowl, “Sweet potato salad.” I snort and Sam rolls his eyes.

“That's not how that works!”

“Not how what works?” I turn to see Dean sauntering into the kitchen, one of the joints I had taken from the kid balanced loosely between his thumb and pointer finger.

“She doesn't have mayonnaise so she used honey instead.”

“Ha! Sweet potato salad!” I giggle and he takes a drag, breathing out slowly, sending a cloud of smoke directly into Sam’s face, “If you were higher, you'd appreciate our jokes more.”

“I don't think there's enough weed in this world to make me think your jokes are funny.”

“That’s harsh, Sammy. Here, have some more. Clearly, you have not imbibed enough.” Sam snatches it from Dean and wanders off, smoke billowing behind him. “Don’t smoke all of it, Jesus!”

“It’s alright, we’ve got more.” I go back to stirring the potato salad, reaching for the paprika.

I feel him walk up behind me, barely grazing my back as he leans over to see what I’m doing. “What was that earlier?”

“What was what?”

“You know, with Sam. The whole ‘you should know how to turn off a vibrator’ thing?”

I snort again, popping a potato into my mouth, “I think you know perfectly well what that was.”

He grabs my elbow and spins me around, “Yea, but what was that?”

I lick honey from my thumb as I look up at him, “Nothing. Sometimes I like to blow off steam.”

He groans quietly, pushing me against the counter, “You can’t say things like that when you’re licking honey off your fingers.”

“I can say whatever I want whenever I'm licking honey off anything I want,” I say with a wink. I lean closer, standing on my tiptoes so that my lips are almost grazing his. “You know what I think?”

“What?” he whispers, his hand resting gently on my lower back.

“You're jealous.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” he scoffs.

I turn back to the bowl of potato salad and grab some bowls and forks, “Omaha. Silk restraints. Magic fingers.” I look over my shoulder to find his normally tan face a bright shade of red. “One time deal, you said it yourself. ‘It'll be too weird, we were drunk.’ Do you remember saying that?”

“Well, yea-”

“Exactly. Sam and I have a casual, no strings attached arrangement. He doesn't think it's weird.”

“I'd bet he doesn't think it's casual and no strings attached.”

I roll my eyes and turn around, shoving the bowl at him, “Maybe not! But he doesn't think it's weird. And what we do is no stranger than you wearing my underwear and having me tie you up with silk ties.” He stares at me, his mouth open but silent. “I'm not high enough for this conversation. Can we please just go eat sweet potato salad and watch bad, made for TV movies?”

He nods, “Yea, sure.” He turns and walks out of the kitchen without another word.

I need more whiskey.

“What the hell did we just watch?”

“I think it was Sharknado 5.”

Dean tilts his head to look at Sam and I on the couch, “I hate both of you.”

“You didn't have to stay in here, you know.” I can feel Sam shift uncomfortably next to me and stifle a giggle. He frowns, knowing that I am taking great pleasure in teasing him.

“Yea, well, you seemed pretty sure we should all watch this movie.”

I shrug, “I thought you would enjoy it more. I mean, aren't you a fan of whatserface?”

“The blonde chick with the robot arm? Oh, hell no. Tara Reid lost her appeal after the first American Pie movie. Nope, gross. Although I will say, the Hoff being able to function after that cheeseburger video is pretty impressive.”

I let my hand creep up Sam’s leg and stop at his thigh. He clears his throat, “Well, I think it's time to, uh, go to bed.” He shifts, but stays seated, his obvious need to be somewhere else thwarted by his even more obvious reason as to why.

“Yea,” I agree, my hand slipping even further, gently palming him through his jeans, “it's time we go to bed I think.” I grab the whiskey bottle with my unoccupied hand and relinquish my hold on Sam as I stand up. “One for the road?”

Dean stands up and stretches, his shirt pulling up to show off a little span of tan skin and fine hair trailing from his belly button to just under the edge of his jeans. I can feel the heat crawling up my cheeks as I stare, and he chuckles.

“You done?”

I clear my throat, “Quite.” I hold out the bottle to him and he shakes his head.

“Nah, I think I'm gonna cut myself off this time. You okay to get to bed?”

I nod, “Yea, yea, I'm good. I am gooood.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “Alright. G’night, guys.” He stumbles away, turning the corner and disappearing into the dark hallway.

“You are the worst.” I look over to see Sam stand up, the reason for his discomfort obvious as I stare at his bulge. I take a giant swig of whiskey, and sway a little as I look up at him.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I dunno, fondling me and then immediately checking out my brother is on the list, I think.” He steps closer, towering over me as he tries not to smile.

“You aren't mad?”

“Nah, I guess not. You aren't my girl, anyway.”

“I’m...I’m not?”

“I heard you talking to Dean. Just a casual way to blow off steam?”

I duck my head, “I...you...I'm sorry…”

He tucks his knuckle under my chin and forces me to look up at him, “I didn't say anything to tell you otherwise. No need to be sorry.” He drops his hand and it lands on my hip, his thumb rubbing the exposed skin between my tank top and the elastic band of my shorts. “You can do whatever you want, I just hope I'm allowed to be in on it every once in awhile.”

“Can we do whatever I want right now?”

Instead of answering, he dips down, his lips crushing mine as he pulls me into him. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he practically crushes me in his arms. His tongue traces the crease of my lips, gently parting them so that we can explore each other. This isn't the first time this has happened, but something seems different. It's more desperate, like there's something more to lose if we go through with it this time.

“Sam…” his lips move down my neck, sucking and leaving marks as his hands move down to grasp my ass. His mouth moves back up, nipping at my earlobe, and I gasp as his voice, deep and rough from the alcohol, rumbles against my ear.

“Did you want to do something else?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

I press myself against his denim clad bulge, wiggling my hips and making him moan, “What do you think?”

Suddenly, my feet aren't on the floor anymore and I squeal, wrapping my arms around Sam’s neck and my legs around his waist as he strides quickly through the bunker. I take the opportunity and begin running my fingers through his hair, kissing along his neck and along his jaw. He stops suddenly, pushing me against the wall and holding me there, “If you don't stop, we aren't going to make it to my room.”

I grab the hem of my shirt, balancing against him as I pull it off and toss it to the floor. The look in his eyes changes; the playful glint is replaced with dark lust. His hand snakes between us, rubbing against my clothed mound as he kisses me again, all teeth and tongue and quiet moans.

“We should...we should go to your room now,” I manage to moan out, my hips thrusting to meet his hand.

“You mean, you don't want me to fuck you in the hallway? Afraid Dean might see?” I let out an involuntary whimper; the thought of Dean catching us is more appealing than worrisome. “Not afraid...you sound like you want him to catch me fucking you out in the open.” If my panties weren't wet before, they're absolutely soaked now.

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes narrowed as he contemplates what he wants to do. “I could eat you out right here, but if he caught us, maybe I'd have to share.” His hand slips up the leg of my shorts, and under the elastic of my underwear. I gasp as one of his thick digits pushes inside of me and he begins moving it slowly. “On the other hand, if the thought of that gets you so turned on-”

“Just take me to your room, Sam. Please…” my voice is barely above a whisper, but he smiles at how wrecked I sound. He isn't wrong; the last few times this happened, it was sweeter, gentler. I don't know if it's the alcohol or the weed, or a combination of the two, but this...I don't have words for this.

Then he starts walking, and it's then I realize that his hand is still in my shorts, and he's still pushing and pulling, in and out, every step he takes adding to the thrust of his hand. My arms wrap tightly around his neck and the thought occurs to me that not only is he strong enough to hold me up with one arm, he's also coordinated enough to keep fingering me while high and walking down the hallway. Add that to the list of things I didn't realize was such a turn on. A drawn out moan escapes me and he chuckles, a low, throaty laugh. “We aren't going to make it past Dean’s room if you do that.”

Then he stops, dead in the hallway. Fuck.

“What...what are you doing?” Dean’s door is closed, and Sam’s eyes are trained on it like a beacon. Without a word he turns so that my back is towards it. “Sam…”

He pulls his hand from my shorts, then rips them off in one fluid motion. I hear his belt clinking and can feel his knuckles brush against me as he undoes his pants, shimmying them down so he can kick them off. He pushes me against the door and the wood is rough against my bare back.

“I’m going to give you what you want.” I gasp as he nudges my entrance, “But you have to be quiet.”

“I don't think-”

“Oh, you will,” he practically growls as he pushes further into me, “because I don't think I'm ready to share just yet.”

I bite my lip to keep from crying out as he bottoms out, my eyes wide. He takes a deep breath, as if he's trying to control himself, then slowly begins to thrust again. He switches which arm is holding me up and puts his free hand on the door to steady himself. Just the sound of his heavy breathing is almost too much paired with his slow, dragging pace and I clutch at his shoulders, my head falling back against the door with a quiet thud. I flinch, but Sam doesn't seem to notice as he ducks his head down to kiss along my collarbone, nipping and sucking his way along my neck and up to my jaw.

His lips drag along the shell of my ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Do you think Dean knows we’re out here?” He pulls out almost all the way, “Do you think he is picturing what you look like while I fuck you?” He punctuates his question by slamming back into me, pushing against the door so it doesn't rattle in the frame. I can't answer, afraid that if I do, I'll be too loud. “You aren't answering. Do you think he knows,” he pulls out again, “that I'm fucking you,” he slams back in, grunting quietly into my shoulder, “right against his door?”

I can feel the coil tightening, his motions and the picture he's painting pushing me closer and closer to the edge. “I...I don't...maybe…” I can't form a coherent sentence, not the way he’s dragging in and out of me, and my head drops forward, resting against the soft flannel shirt he's still wearing.

“If he does know, if he can hear us,” another deliciously slow thrust, “I'd bet he’s getting off to it. Imagining what you look like, how you bite your lip, how it feels to be surrounded by your warmth. I know I've thought about it more than once, spilling over my fist in the shower…”

That's all it took. The fire deep in my belly bursts into flame, consuming me as the coil snaps. My teeth sink into Sam’s shoulder, hoping that his shirt is thick enough to muffle the loud cry that is involuntarily leaving me. His thrusts quicken, but his hips start to stutter and I hold onto him, riding him through his own release as he groans out my name.

He pulls back and looks at me, sweat trickling down his temple and towards his neck, and smiles.

“You are the worst,” I giggle whisper, and he shrugs.

“You like it.” He starts walking towards his room and I start laughing.

“Sam, put me down! You're leaving my clothes!”

He keeps walking, his grip tighter so I can't wiggle free, “I'm not finished with you yet.” He kicks the door open to his room, then shuts it with his hip. “You can get your clothes later. You won't be needing them for awhile.”

I can't say I'm unhappy about this turn of events.

I wake up, my throat dry and my body aching for some sort of refreshment. I slide out from under Sam’s arm, and grab his shirt off the back of the chair where it had landed earlier. He groans and rolls over, and I stare at him for a moment, taking in his long form as it stretches the full length of the bed.

I sneak out and leave the door cracked behind me, then turn towards the kitchen. Before I can take a step, a hand covers my mouth and I end up pressed against the wall. I have somehow managed to forget everything I know about self defense in my half asleep state, and only manage to weakly slap at the arm holding me against the wall.

“Shh, it's me!” The hand disappears from my mouth, and I glare at my would be assailant.

“Dean, what the hell?!” I give him a playful shove and he grins, his moss green eyes glinting in the low light of the hall.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you! I’m thirsty, I'm getting a drink.”

He shrugs, “I’m hungry, thought I'd get a snack.”

“Oh, well, then we can go together.” Suddenly, he's standing far too close, and I realize how little clothing I'm wearing.

“Not exactly the kind of snack I was thinking about.”

“W-w-what do you mean?”

He takes another step, and his body presses against mine, “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He fingers the buttons on Sam’s shirt, his eyes roving from my face to where it's hanging open down to the third button. “You expect to just fuck right outside my door and not expect consequences? Seriously?”

“We thought you were asleep!” I rush out, panicked.

“I'm gonna stop you right there. Sammy knew damn well I wasn't asleep, and, even if I was, do you really think you were being that quiet?” His hand slips under the soft fabric and he squeezes my breast, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “I could hear every little moan and whimper that was coming out of you. Not like I haven't before, but knowing you were just on the other side of that door…” he trails off and brings his gaze back up to meet mine.

“Listen-”

“I get it, you and Sam. I'm not blind, I can tell. But I also know neither of you have done anything about it, and I owe Sammy some payback.” He leans down and wraps his lips around my nipple and I can't help but groan; his tongue is sinful, and he hasn't even done anything yet. His tongue swirls around the pebbled skin, and I can feel goosebumps run down my arms and legs. He lets go with a quiet pop, and puts his forehead against mine. “You've gotta be quiet, that's the rules.”

“Then how’s Sam gonna know?” I draw a sharp breath as Dean’s hand wanders under the hem of my shirt, his fingertips brushing along my wet entrance like a feather.

“Oh, he’ll know.” His fingers move up and down, the rough pads gentle against my sensitive skin. With each pass, they move a little deeper, but then he pulls back, his thumb barely grazing my clit as he plays, his forehead still pressed against mine.

“Dean…” We shouldn't do it...but he's right. And honestly, the way his fingers feel against me right now, common sense isn't playing a part. “Please…” He slips one finger inside, curling and twisting it while he pushes in and out, and suddenly his mouth is on mine, swallowing the moan I can't hold back.

He tastes like whiskey, and his five o’clock shadow is rough against my face. It's one of those delicious burns, and I open my mouth for him, our tongues meeting as he explores. It's different than kissing Sam, almost softer, but there's a hidden edge I can't quite put my finger on. I nip at his bottom lip, and it's his turn to groan into me. He pulls away and smirks, then drops to his knees in front of me.

“What are you doing?”

He raises a brow as he looks up at me, “Do I really need to answer that question?” Both hands are under my shirt now, and he pushes my legs further apart. He ducks under my shirt, and I cry out as his tongue drags along my folds, working in tandem with his fingers as he adds another one. “I said,” he mutters against me, sending vibrations to my core, “you've gotta be quiet.”

I drop my head back against the wall, my chest heaving. He laps at me, making happy little grunting sounds as he moves. I can already feel the warmth building in my belly, and I bury my fingers in Dean’s hair. “I'm not gonna last much longer, Dean,” I whimper. He lifts one of my legs and puts it over his shoulder, and the change of angle nearly pushes me over right then. He sucks my clit into his mouth, his fingers pistoning in and out, and then suddenly the world goes black. He doesn't stop, and I tighten my grip on his hair, riding his face as a second orgasm rips through me.

I finally relinquish my hold on him and he drops my leg, standing up so that he's still up against me. I'm pretty sure it's the only reason I'm able to still be upright.

“You alright?”

I nod weakly, “I would say I'm more than alright.”

“Good.” He backs up and I walk to Sam’s door.

“So you're okay with-” my thought is interrupted when I see Sam, sitting up in bed, the blankets pooled around his waist. “Sam? Did you hear…?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, and his muscles ripple down his back as he shifts. He stands up, and it's very obvious that he heard us. “What do you think?” He walks closer to me, seemingly oblivious to Dean standing right behind me, “One Winchester not enough?”

“Listen, man, it's my fault. It wasn't her idea-”

Sam’s gaze shifts from me to Dean, and the older Winchester, in a surprising turn of events, stops talking. “It's alright, if that's what she wants…” He reaches out, his fingertips brushing the buttons like Dean’s had done only moments before, “Is that what you want? Both of us?”

What is happening? “I...I don't know…” My mind may not know the answer, but my dripping cunt does. I squeeze my legs together, trying to find some sort of friction, and Sam notices the movement.

“I think you do know.” He fingers the buttons some more, as if contemplating what he should do with this information, then slowly begins to pop them open. He slides the shirt apart enough so that just a small part of my breasts peek through, and my mind is racing. The look on his face, the slow, calculated movements...it's Sam, but it's not, and for some reason it's one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

He looks back to Dean, his expression softer than earlier, and, though I can't see his brother’s face, I know they're doing that silent conversation thing reserved only for those close enough to understand it. He nods, then looks back at me, the corner of his mouth turned up. His hand traces up the edge of the shirt, his fingers slipping under it at the shoulder. He carefully slides it off, pushing it down my arm, and his other hand repeats the motion on the other side. The shirt slips off and hits the floor, and he takes another step towards me. I can feel his arousal pressing against my stomach.

Suddenly, his lips are on mine, desperate and hot. There's no gentle exploration this time; his tongue pushes its way against mine hungrily, and his large hands grip my bare ass, pulling me roughly into him. He bites at my lip, pulling gently before letting go and traveling lower, planting sloppy kisses along my jaw and down my throat. He spins me around so that my back is against him, one of his hands roughly cupping a breast while the other travels between my legs, spreading me apart as Dean watches.

“You're already so wet, Y/N...wet, and warm, and tight.” Dean gives a strangled groan as we lock eyes and Sam plunges inside of me, two fingers moving in and out as his thumb rubs my clit. “What do you think? Should we let Dean in on this, too? Say the word, and we won't. It's up to you.”

I can't think, not with his rough fingers dragging in and out, and the obscene noises they’re making as he continues his ministrations. “Y-yes…” my wrecked voice is quiet, but they both hear me. Sam walks backwards with me as Dean follows, needlessly shutting the door behind him.

He turns so that I'm facing the bed and he pulls himself free. I look over my shoulder in time to see him lick his fingers clean, slowly and deliberately, and my mouth drops open; this is a Sam I've never seen, and I can't say I wouldn't like to see him again.

He steps out of my line of sight, and I feel a different set of hands running down my back, gripping my hips before traveling to the globes of my ass. He turns me to face him and Dean’s eyes are dark with lust. “How do you feel about me going first, sweetheart?”

I finally find my voice as I grab his belt buckle, “I think you're wearing too many clothes.” I make quick work of it, and, as he shimmies his jeans down his legs, pulling his boxers with them, it seems like everything is going in slow motion. This is going to change things, major things, and I'm left wondering if any of us are ready for it. Then Dean is pulling off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and suddenly the moment is over and I feel everything ten fold.

Dean gives me a gentle push backwards and the backs of my legs hit the bed. I plop gently onto it and shimmy backwards as he stalks towards me, like I'm some kind of prey. He grabs my ankles, smooths his hands up my calves and up to my knees, then pulls my legs apart. His fingers trail up my thighs, brush past my aching core, and move up to hips as he positions himself between my open legs.

“I think it's time we get to the main show, don't you?” he asks with a smile, and I can feel him, hot and heavy, against the inside of my thigh. He reaches down and strokes himself a couple of times, then slowly eases in.

I gasp, and, though he's not quite as big as Sam, it's still enough to burn as I adjust to his size. “Oh...Dean…”

Despite being filled by Dean, I still can't help but wonder where Sam is. I roll my head to the side and find him sitting in his desk chair, legs sprawled and dick in hand as he watches, his eyes narrowed as he focuses on me. Dean starts to move, slow but deep thrusts that pull my attention back to him. “How's that feel, huh? Feel good?”

“Mmhmm...so good.” He looks down at me, his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves, and I would give him anything in that moment. Absolutely anything. I grab the backs of my thighs and pull my knees closer to my chest, and he goes even deeper.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, you're gonna kill me…” he moves my hands out of the way, replacing them with his own, and pushes, spreading my legs further apart as he bears down.

I roll my head again to look at Sam and see that he's mesmerized by the way my tits are bouncing, stroking himself in time to every move. I reach up and start plucking at my nipple, grabbing a fistful of tit as I roll my stiff bud between my fingers. When he finally looks up and meets my eye, a look is all it takes.

He quickly moves from the chair to the bed, kneeling on the floor by my head. Despite his roughness earlier, he smooths the hair from my face, kissing me deeply and swallowing the moans coming out of me as Dean continues to thrust, then moves down and captures my nipple in his mouth.

“Sam...fuck…” He bites gently, flicking his tongue in time with Dean, while still stroking himself. “Dean...I need...can you…” I can't form a coherent sentence, not with both of them touching me, but he seems to understand.

“Flip over, sweetheart,” he pulls out and lets my legs drop, and I roll over onto my belly. He grabs my hips and yanks my ass up, teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Dean, please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me, and quit teasing.”

He laughs, and I nearly come the moment he slams back into me. He's not as gentle this time around, picking up speed as he nears his own climax. I look at Sam and lick my lips, and he understands immediately what I want. He stands up, dick eye level, and I wrap my lips around him. Each thrust Dean gives causes my mouth to go further down his shaft, and he groans when he feels himself hit the back of my throat.

He grabs a handful of hair and begins practically fucking my face, and for a moment all you can hear is the pornographic sounds of skin slapping skin, muffled moans, and the wet sucking of my cunt swallowing Dean’s dick.

“I'm gonna come, Y/N,” Dean grinds out, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. Sam pulls away from my mouth and steps back, and I look over my shoulder at him. “Come with me, I wanna feel it.” He reaches around and starts rubbing my clit, and I start pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with my own.

“I'm so close, Dean, please...don't stop…” He slams into me two more times and I'm done for. I come, hard, and Dean grabs my hair as he spills inside of me, growling and cursing under his breath. He pulls out slowly, and I collapse onto the bed, unable to hold myself up anymore.

I feel the bed shift as Dean stands up, and then again when Sam slides in next to me. I open my eyes to see him looking at me, his hazel eyes like sunflowers. I smile and he tilts his head.

“What?”

I shrug, “Just...you have really pretty eyes.”

Sam smiles back, a genuine smile that I rarely get to see, “I think we've sexed you into madness.”

I shake my head, “Not possible. I've still got at least one more in me.”

His hand slides across my thigh, and he dips a finger along my folds. “As wet as you are, I'm not sure there's enough friction for you to even enjoy it,” he says with a laugh, pressing his thumb to my clit.

I arch my back and close my eyes as his thumb makes lazy circles, “You'd be surprised.”

He props himself up on his elbow, looking down as his hand teases my entrance, a finger dipping in and back out, tickling my clit and moving down. I open my eyes to see Dean walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, well, I thought my part here was done, so I was just gonna go back to my room.”

“I want you to watch.”

“What?”

I wiggle my hips against Sam’s hand and sigh, “You heard me.”

“Okay, then.” He moves to the seat Sam was just occupying and sits down. Sam settles in on the other side of me so I can see Dean and continues what he was doing. Dean watches with hooded eyes, and I roll my head so that I can see him better. Despite just getting off, he's already half hard again.

Sam slips a finger inside me, and I groan, never losing eye contact with Dean. His cock twitches and I can tell he wants to touch himself. I nod, and his hand wraps around his dick. Sam adds another finger and I can't concentrate on Dean, all I can feel are his two large digits pumping in and out of my wet cunt.

“Sam, that feels so good,” I mewl, breath catching at how full I feel. “Lay on your back.”

“You sure?”

I nod, and he rolls over so that he's laying on his back instead of his side. I reach down and stroke him, though he doesn't need much help at this point. I plant a knee on either side of him, then line him up and sink down. I take a minute to adjust to his size.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You feel so fucking good.”

I laugh as I begin to rock back and forth, “We just did it a little bit ago!”

“I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how amazing you feel. Fuck…” I add some bounce to my gyrations, and glance at Dean, who is watching my every move as he strokes himself. Sam's hands grip my hips and I know there will be bruises in the morning; in all honesty, I kind of hope there are.

“Shit...Sam, I need more, please.”

He plants his feet on the mattress and begins fucking into me as hard as he can. I lean back on my palms, aching for a final release. Dean is watching me hungrily, his eyes on my tits as the bounce with each thrust. Must be a Winchester thing.

“C’mere, Dean,” I pant out as Sam’s thumb finds my clit again. “You're almost there, aren't you?”

“Fuck...yea…” he walks over to stand next to me, and I suck him into my mouth, twirling my tongue around his head as Sam pounds into me. Dean buries his hand in my hair, grips it as I move, and it's like Sam can't stand the thought of sharing me. He moves faster, lifting me almost off his cock before slamming me back down on it. I add a hand to work with my mouth and Dean cries out, a strangled moan as he comes in my mouth, hot and thick. “Holy shit.” His voice is wrecked, but I don't have time to respond. The build up I've been feeling finally hits the edge of the cliff and I'm about to fall off of it.

“Sam, I'm so close…ohhh, I'm going to...I'm coming, Sam!” My legs tighten against him and I clench around him as he also comes, milking him of every last drop. After the high of it wears off, I roll off of Sam, sighing at the sudden emptiness of him pulling out. He puts his arms around me, and though he's like a furnace, I can't help but hold onto him.

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, “Well...that just happened.”

I smile sleepily, nuzzling into Sam’s side, “Yea, it sure did.”

“Are you okay?”

I nod, “I'm not sure my legs work anymore, but who needs legs?” Both of them laugh, and it gives me hope that tomorrow won't be weird.

“We can always carry you around.”

“Mmmhmm…”

And then I'm asleep, lulled into sweet dreams against Sam’s solid form and the sound of the two brothers quietly talking.

I wake up to Sam’s large body curled around mine, his hand cupping my breast gently as he sleeps. I smile, happy to wake up with him beside me, then look around to find the room is empty besides us; Dean is gone. I carefully slip out of Sam’s grasp, and take a shirt from his dresser. As I'm slipping it on, I trip over one of his boots and hit the floor. I curse under my breath and wait for him to ask if I'm okay, but he is still passed out. Surprising, for a hunter, but after last night, not unexpected. I gather myself and limp out of the room, making a mental note to make a place just for shoes.

The bunker is quiet, and the kitchen is empty when I get to it. I shuffle around, regretting not wearing my fuzzy slippers, and put the coffee on. I pull out the toaster and toss a couple of pieces of bread in, then lean against the counter and wait for both things to finish.

“I smell coffee.” I look up to see Dean in the doorway, hair sticking every which way and eyes half closed.

“You do. Do you want toast to go with it?”

“Pie. I want pie.”

I laugh and nod my head towards the fridge, “There's still some apple in there, have at it.” He makes a happy grunt and detours towards the fridge. I pour a cup of coffee for both of us, butter my toast, and move over to the table to eat. Dean sits down in front of me and proceeds to eat the pie straight from the pan.

“Dean, listen-”

“I know, I should have gotten a plate, but I'm hungry and it's my turn to do the dishes so I don't really want to-”

“No, that's fine, I don't…I don't care about that. I meant about last night.”

“Oh. Yea, right.”

“It was great.”

“Yea, it was.”

“But…” I stir my coffee again, staring at the way the creamer swirls in the darkness of the bitter liquid, “it can't…we can't do that again.”

“Mmm.”

“It's just, it’s Sam, Dean. It's always been Sam. And I love you, I do, and you are good, but it just...it can't happen, okay?”

He sits quietly for a moment, and the euphoria I felt last night is gone. It should have never happened; the major change is coming right now. Not later, now, and I'm not ready for it. Then he looks up and smiles.

“I know it's Sammy. You two have been dancing around it for ages. I get it. Can't say I regret last night, but I understand.” He picks my hand off the table and brings it to his lips, kissing the top of it gently, “You're an amazing woman, and you and Sam...shit, you guys are perfect. I also can't say I'm not a little jealous, but I'll get over it. You deserve each other, you know?”

We’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sam is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as Dean drops my hand like it's burnt him.

“I, uh...I gotta go.” He stands up to leave then grabs the plate of pie, “I'm just going to take this with me. And then it's my turn to do dishes and laundry so, uhhh, if you need me, I'll be doing chores. For the rest of my life.” He disappears around the corner and Sam walks over to the coffee pot.

“Sam…”

“What?” He pours a cup of coffee, then leans against the counter as he drinks it.

“About last night-”

“Yea, I get it. Can't happen again. It's fine.”

“Sure, but that's not exactly what I was going to say.”

He sits his mug down a little too forcefully, then crosses his arms across his chest, “Listen, it's fine. When I woke up and you were gone, I knew. I'm not surprised that Dean got the girl, I just figured after last night-”

“Are you jealous?” I ask with a nervous laugh, and he frowns.

“You aren't my girl, so there's not really any reason to be jealous, right?”

I stand up from the table and walk up to him, putting my hands on his crossed arms. “What if I want to be your girl, though?”

His expression softens, “Do you?”

“Of course! I told Dean that as much fun as last night was, you are the one I want to be with. I love Dean, but not like that. You're the one I want to be with.”

“Really?”

I nod, “Really.”

He pulls me into him, wrapping himself around me and I sigh happily. He kisses the top of my head, and I smile up at him.

Maybe this isn't going to be so complicated after all.

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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years

Text

The College Years - Sophomore Year (Chapter 30) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The Booty Call Boy”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Malia Tate & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Cursing, mention of sex.

Author’s Note: Malia was not getting enough love or attention in this fic, and I think she’s hilarious sooooo.

Summary: Stiles and Y/N fill in Scott on their theory about who summoned the rabisu to Beacon Hills, only for Scott to divulge a startling secret about the summoner's connection with the Pack.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Chapter Thirty - Chapter Thirty-One

Stiles had his weight pressed firmly against both Scott and the rolling stand that held his IV drip, as they did laps in the hall around the hospital. It had been eight days since he was attacked outside of his house; ending up in the hospital with deep defensive wounds on his hands, forearms, and shin, a broken wrist, a lacerated liver, a perforated intestine, a massive loss in blood, and a swollen brain that had left him in a coma for four days. In the four days since he had been awake, Stiles and Y/N had figured out what had been attacking Beacon Hills: a demon from Ancient Mesopotamian mythology called a rabisu.

"So you think that Sam Wirths summoned the rabisu to Beacon Hills?" Scott asked, as he escorted his best friend around the hospital.

"I don't think, Scott, I know. He fits the bill. You know I have an eye for evil and this kid screams ‘evil’."

"He went to Beacon Hills High with you guys, and then he went off to Berkeley and was literally in my Mesopotamia class with me, Scott. It has to be him." You said, as you walked along with them.

"Okay well if it was Sam, then we should talk to Malia." Scott suggested.

"Why should we talk to Malia about Sam? We talked to him so little in high school that my Dad didn't even think to mention that he was the one who had died. Did she even know him? He was so quiet.. she would've walked all over him with her little coyote paws." Stiles joked.

"Yea, she knew him. You remember.. they hooked up for a couple of months during our first semester. He lived next door to Malia and Cora." Scott told the two of them.

Stiles stopped in his tracks, leaning heavily on the IV drip. "Malia dated Sam last year?!"

"How did you not know about this?" Scott asked, turning around to look at his friend, raising his hands in the air.

"Why would I know about that? It's not like Malia and I are incredibly close anymore, not since we broke up." Stiles said, glaring at Scott.

"Okay, why don't we just get Malia down here and see what she knows?" You suggested, as you took Stiles' elbow and continued leading him down the hall back to his room.

Scott and Melissa helped Stiles get back into his hospital bed. Stiles had made the hospital room his own: taping the crime scene photos, lamassu stencils, and pictures of you and him and the Pack to the wall next to his bed.

"Well, kiddo, you took three laps around the floor and your vitals are still good, I think Dr. Dunbar might release you tomorrow morning." Melissa said as she looked at Stiles' heart rate monitor.

"Thank god. I am going crazy being trapped inside here. I hate waiting around to hear that the next part of the plan has worked and no one has gotten hurt. I mean, when everyone was out painting the lamassu's last night, it was nerve-racking. My nerves were severely racked." Stiles rambled on to Melissa.

"I know how you feel, Stiles, but I've gotta tell you, just because you won't be here, doesn't mean that you'll be out there with them. You had three major surgeries just over a week ago, your arm is broken, and you were in a coma five days ago. You're gonna be confined to your house on bedrest for at least another month." Melissa broke the bad news to Stiles.

"Another month, Mom?" Scott asked from next to Stiles' bed.

"I don't know what to tell you guys, I don't make the rules, I just pass them along to the Sheriff." Melissa grinned and walked out of the room, letting Malia in as she opened the door.

"Okay what's going on? Stiles said it was life and death... and yet you're here eating Jell-O." Malia looked at Stiles, comfortably sitting in bed, wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants and hospital socks, and eating a cherry Jell-O cup.

Stiles put the gelatin treat down on the table, and pushed the button that placed the bed in a more upright position. "It is life or death, Malia. What happened between you and Sam Wirths?"

"Okay, I'm leaving." Malia turned on her heels.

"Malia! Malia wait." Scott ran over and closed the door. "What Stiles should have started with was that Sam was the guy who Sheriff Stilinski and Parrish found in his house with his heart ripped out."

"I know. I heard. Did you guys not know it was him? It’s not surprising, he was pretty weak... and annoying. I thought about killing him sometimes." Malia shrugged, took Stiles' Jell-O cup off his table, and sat down on the chair, putting her feet up on the edge of Stiles' bed. Stiles' jaw dropped and he looked around for similar outrage. "Why does any of this matter though? Parrish said that he didn't think it had anything to do with the attacks." Malia said in between mouthfuls of Jell-O.

"Well, I think it does. The rabisu need someone to summon them and we think that person was Sam." Stiles clarified.

"Makes sense, I mean, he was in that Mesopotamia class with Y/n, right?" Malia asked, nonchalantly.

"Oh my god, seriously?! Yes, yes he was, Malia. You never thought to mention that to anyone in the past few days?" Stiles raised his voice, frustration apparent in his tone.

"I thought Y/n would know. They were in the same class."

"Y/n didn't go to Beacon Hills with us, how would she have known who he was?!" Stiles yelled.

"Okay, alright... Malia, can you just tell us what happened between you and Sam?" You interjected, trying to stop the ex's from bickering.

"Or really anything about Sam, I didn't really know him in high school. Did he have a bad relationship with his parents or a sibling, or do you think he was just messing around with the stuff that he learned about in class and he got caught up in something he didn't understand?" Scott asked Malia.

"No, I mean, we didn't talk much, but when he would, he never said anything bad about his family or anything." Malia said, throwing the empty cup into the trash by the door. "And, I don't know, he had only been in the class with Y/n for a month when I dumped him."

"So you dumped him? Were there bad feelings about all of this?" You asked the blunt were-coyote.

"I don't know... Listen, I was in Comm 101 with Sam last Fall and he recognized me from Beacon Hills and he started sitting next to me. He followed me around like a puppy dog, and had a big crush on me. When I found out that his dick was big, I started having sex with him pretty regularly." Malia explained.

"Oh my god." Stiles threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes.

Malia looked at you and mouthed the word 'huge'. She then extended her hands from each other to demonstrate how big Sam's penis was. "Okay.. yea." You snickered. "Then what happened?"

"One night I let him be on top, and when I orgasmed, I lost it a little and my eyes turned blue, and I guess that he saw."

Scott cut her off. "Wait, wait, he saw your eyes?"

"Yea, only for a second, but then I had to explain to him what I was, well what we all were-" Malia continued.

"Jesus, Malia, you never thought to mention any of this?" Stiles asked.

"I'm telling you now." Malia replied, matter-of-factly. Stiles slumped in his bed and began biting at his thumb. "Then he became kind of obsessed with the whole supernatural thing, and he was all like 'let me be part of the pack, I could be useful to you all, I love you, blah blah blah' and as good as the sex was, that got really annoying after a few weeks, so I dumped him."

"WOW." Stiles yelled.

"Uh, yea... okay, was he pissed? I'm assuming he was pissed." You asked.

"Yea, I guess. He sent me some really pathetic hand-written letters saying he had gone to therapy and was doing poorly in his classes, but he was learning more about the supernatural and he still loved me and he just wanted to be with me and help the Pack and oh my god, he sent me like twelve of those and they were so irritating."

"That sounds unstable." Scott said, a worried look taking over his face.

"He lived next door to you, right? Did you ever run into him?" You asked.

"Yea, he'd wait for me sometimes, but that stopped when I started bringing Eric home to have sex with... The last time I saw him, he was waiting outside my apartment the day I moved out. He was all 'I'll see you this summer in Beacon Hills, maybe if something comes up this summer that the Pack is having trouble with, I could help.' And I just lost it on the little loser. I was like, 'Sam, you don't even know how many things we've come up against and defeated with ease without ever needing your help. Just get away from me, it's becoming pathetic.' and I left."

"That was harsh." Scott said.

"That was progress." Stiles corrected.

"Okay, well, Sam sounds..." You began.

"I think fucking crazy is the word you're looking for, Y/n." Stiles interrupted. You raised your eyebrows and nodded slightly. "I need to talk to my Dad and see what kind of stuff they found at Sam's house."

"Was there anything else, Malia?" Scott asked, worried of what her answer would be.

"Nah, I think that was it." Malia folded her hands behind her head and pushed Stiles' leg towards the middle of the bed with her foot.

"Ow! Okay, wow. Can she leave now?" Stiles complained to Scott. Scott nodded and walked out with Malia.

You walked over and sat on Stiles' bed. "Your dick is definitely bigger than Sam's." You told Stiles with a grin.

"Damn right."He pouted. “She ate my Jell-O...”

29 <- - > 31

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