#‘I probably didn’t want to scare you’

[snoopychris]

TA!matt discovering camgirl!reader online

warnings: masturbation, kinda sub!matt, matt's kind of an ass, cammy used in place of y/n

11:03am

“ok… professor thomas isn’t here today. you guys are stuck with me. i’m not legally… allowed to teach so just. do whatever. you can leave if you want.” matt speaks, his voice booming clearly throughout the room. the tests you had taken the week before were sitting face down in front of each seat. you’re almost scared to look at your grade. your friend, melissa, takes her seat next to you, flipping her page over instantly.

“78. how’d you do cammy?” she asks, glancing at the marks on her paper before you flip yours over. 65. “what the hell?” you whisper, looking around the room. nobody else seems to be freaking out over their scores. you make your way to matt’s temporary desk, setting your paper down. “a 65?” you mumble, glancing between matt and the paper. he sets his phone down on the desk, looking up at you. “well, yeah. your determinants were wrong and you did the wrong method. i was being generous with the grade.” 

you shake your head in disbelief, glancing over matt’s features. “i didn’t… i was so confident in… is there anything you can do for me?” you whisper, biting your lip so hard that it begins to bleed. matt shakes his head, flipping through his textbook. “do the problems on page 117. give them to me on friday and ill use some of those as proof that you know what you’re doing. daddy’s money can’t pay its way through college” you scoffed at his words. sure, you had a lot of materialistic things, always having the best backpack, the best notebook, dressed in the best clothes, but was always from your own pocket. “that’s not fair.” “oh no... you actually have to work for something for once. crazy isn’t it?” matt replies, looking back down at the papers he was grading. 

it feels like the walk of shame on your way back to your seat. when you sit down, melissa elbows your ribs, making you chuckle. “i mean shit, cammy, i’d give anything for him to talk to me like that. at least he’s hot though, right cammy?” “i’d never ever think that man was attractive. i would never. ever. do anything with him. matter of fact. hit me if i ever do.” 

11:03 pm.

matt had been going through the worst dry spell of his life. chris and nick had been making fun of him for it nonstop. he just felt desperate. in the back of his mind, he knew what he was doing was pathetic and probably frowned upon by some people. a wednesday night isn’t typically spent looking through a camgirl website hoping that one of them is cheap enough for him to afford them walking him through an orgasm. he was twenty two years old for gods sake. he shouldn’t be doing… whatever this was. the girls on his screen were all beautiful. they all had a confidence he wishes he could have. he didn’t judge the girls on the other side. he’s been desperate for money too. it’d be a lie to say that he hadn’t considered pornography. the scrolling continued for a while, only coming to a halt when he saw a free livestream.

on the other side of the city, you were growing bored. there can’t have possibly been that many other cam girls available at this time on a wednesday night. you had been live for about an hour, talking to nobody other than yourself. your face was hidden from the camera, only your lips and lower body visible. still, with no audience, you tried your best to make it seem like you were doing anything. a bullet vibrator sat near your clit, attached to your fingers by a holster. it was off, and you weren’t doing anything other than moving it in circles. maybe this whole free thing hadn’t been the best ideas. your face brightens slightly when a user finally joins. mateo81. “hello mateo… y’got yourself a private show tonight. everybody’s too busy for me.” you pout, your voice covered by a voice changer. they were common on this app. 

matt thinks it’s almost too corny. then again… you look good. just his type. and free. he would’ve paid if he had too. was it too good to be true? he should find out right? matt puts the website on full screen, typing a message out in the chat. completely free? NSA?

“completely free mateo… no strings attached.” you smile, tapping your bullet vibrator on the camera. “unless you wanna tip. i do a free stream every once in a while… you got lucky today and got it allllll for yourself. you’re gonna be such a good boy for me aren’t you?” you whisper, your voice like silk. usually matt’s not into this stuff. he’s not submissive. there’s something about you that’s making him do it all. he types another message, swallowing roughly. he doesn’t even remember getting as hard as he is right now. please. so hard rn. he pushes his boxers down, staring intently at the screen. every word you say is like a potion, drawing him further under your spell. he hopes there’s no antidote. 

you chuckle as you turn your vibrator on, holding it on your clothed clit. you bite your lip, holding back a small moan as you await another message. how much for you to take it off? you giggle once more, shrugging your shoulders as you press your tits together with one hand. “just gotta ask nicely baby…” you smile, slipping the small panties—if you could even call them that— off of your figure. 

matt watches with full attention as you do so, fisting his cock faster and faster. he wasn’t trying to cum so fast, but he had gone so long without any form of release that he felt like he had to. besides, it’s not like you’d see him. the precum that was coating his tip is rubbed away gently when matt rubs a thumb over his slit, biting the hem of his t-shirt as he reaches his first orgasm of the night. he doesn’t send a message regarding his cum coated hand, but opts to send one anyway. tits look nice. he hopes he doesn’t sound too pathetic or weird. 

your top is quickly discarded, gently jiggling your breasts on the camera for the person watching over the screen. matt groans at the sight, his sticky hand beginning to move up and down again. you continue to rub the vibrating toy on your clit, letting out small whines and whimpers. you always made it a point to not fake moan like other cam girls. you’d rather be authentic than seem fake and money hungry like some girls on the app were. 

“you’re doing such a good job… wish i could touch you right now. bet you’re dripping aren’t you? you dripping out of your dick over the fact that i’m fuckin myself with this toy for you?” matt could hardly type at this point with how covered in cum his hands were. he didn’t even remember having a second orgasm. or a third. but he knows that he did.  your words were making him feel something so different than anything he’s ever felt before.

with shaky hands, he types a yes, sending it to your screen—wherever you are. you chuckle at the message , pouting your lips for your sole viewer. “such a good boy mateo. so so good… fuck i’m gonna cum… gonna cum for you okay? do it with me yeah? unless you’ve already done it… won’t judge you…” he nods even though you can’t see him, meeting his climax once more. you whine loudly as you release, your body squirming as the feeling takes over. “f-fuck.” you whisper, pressing a small lip gloss kiss to the camera. matt chuckles at the sight, using his discarded shorts to clean himself off. 

his computers pointer moves to the follow button, clicking it as he begins typing a message in the chat. this was fun. do it again sometime? i’ll actually pay haha. he sighs of relief when you nod on camera, giggling quietly. “i can’t wait. i gotta go now. have to pee and all. i’ll see you next time okay, mateo?” you smile, turning your live stream off. matt feels a pang of sadness when he audibly says goodbye and gets no reply.

he glances at his clock, noticing that the minutes are just ticking by. there’s still a pile of math tests on his desk waiting to be graded. he throws his head back and groans, standing up to wash his hands before sitting back down at his work area. the first test he grades is almost a perfect score. 98%. he always tries to avoid names when grading test to avoid any unintentional bias. he chuckles to himself when he reads the name after he’s done grading it. cammy.

you whine as you shut your laptop, walking into the kitchen. you’re still in minimal clothes after putting your top back, but it’s decent enough to be seen by your roommate. he walks into the room, clapping slowly at your performance on the other side of the wall. “you did great, cammy. truly. always put on a show! you get this months rent yet?” he asks, handing you a cloth towel for you to wipe off any sweat with. you chuckle at his words, downing the water bottle in your hand. “free show tonight tucker. y’shoulda seen em! all… one of them! the art of camming is dying and i am going to bring it back. mark my words.” tucker chuckles at your words, grabbing his own water from the fridge. he pops it open, taking a long swig before ruffling your hair. “no judgement here. i support your whore career so long as you support my music career.” you can’t help but smile at his words, knowing he’s being genuine. he supports you in everything that you do. he always has. “yeah whatever. you’re such a good role model.” tucker rolls his eyes as he opens the fridge once more, grabbing some precooked pasta to heat up. 

“did you ever get that math test back? i got an 85. i think that matt guy really likes me or something cause i did so much shit wrong and yet here i am” you shake your head at his question, putting on a tshirt that was thrown over the couch. “no he doesn’t like me much. in fact im probably the last person on his mind 24/7 and when i am on his mind its probably all about how he dislikes me and how bad of a linear algebra student i am.” you shrug, taking a bite of your roommates pasta. “im sure that’s not true.” “oh no. it’s definitely true. there is absolutely no way that I am on his mind right now.” matt got through the stack of papers faster than he had expected. he used your nearly perfect example as an answer key of sorts. he began getting ready for bed, properly this time, knowing that he had an early start to his day with a few morning classes, followed by his nightly internship. he needed to find more time for himself. as he nestles into bed, jellycats at his side, he stares up at the ceiling for a few minutes. his mind keeps drifting back to the camgirl from earlier. cherry. he hopes she’s okay right now. that she’s had a good meal and that she was safe, wherever she was. it was all that was on his mind. the only person on matt’s mind was you. and it had absolutely nothing to do with your mathematical abilities. in fact— he wasn’t even thinking about your test grades anymore. you were absolutely on matt's mind right now, even if neither of you knew it.

tags(reply/message to be added!): @mattsstarlet @oopsiedaisydeer @marrykisskilled @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @cykss @throatgoat4u @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @jetaimevous @muwapsturniolo @sturnsrecord @13hoax @whore4mattsturniolo @sophsturns @chrissweetheart @cl1tlover3000 @applecidersturniolo @babytrapsosa @backwardshatnick

dividers by rose @bernardsbendystraws !

[chaosartic]

Throw away the caution! | LN4

word count: roughly 2k

warnings: overprotective brother Max Fewtrell, mutual pinning (a bit), Oscar is confused most of the time, bad writing (yes it requires a warning)

summary: Lando (annoyingly) has a crush on non other than his best friends younger sister, Y/n Fewtrell. It was his well kept secret. Why? Because he knows how overprotective Max is of you. What happens when Carlos and Oscar find out about it? Will a drunken night out celebrating a race weekend change their relationship?

a/n: Originally this was supposed to be a one shot but I’m turning this into a mini series. They’re probably going to be three parts. Please note that english is not my first language, I’m sorry for any mistakes in advance.

Lando and Max have been through a lot together as long as both of them can remember. And for just as long Lando has known y/n, Max slightly younger sister. What started as a harmless friendship slowly turned into something more, at least in Landos eyes.

It wasn’t until he was a teenager that he admitted his feelings to himself. He kept them hidden and a secret from everyone. At first he thought that they’re just temporary. The girl he used to climb trees with and joke around for hours grew into a beautiful young lady after all. But the feelings only grew stronger.

Lando was well into his twenties when he talked to someone about his crush, it was no other than his friend and ex teammate, Carlos Sainz. At first he tried to talk Lando into admitting his feelings to you but that was without success. Carlos tried to figure out if the feelings are both sided but he simply didn’t see the Fewtrell siblings enough for that.

He was the silent emotional support through everything after that, trying to get them together alone as much as possible without Max noticing. After all, Carlos didn't know how he would react to the news of his childhood friend loving his younger sister. There were a few close calls in the past but as far as anyone was concerned neither Max nor y/n knew about Landos feelings.

If anyone would ask him why he doesn’t confess his answer would probably be along the lines of wanting to concentrate on his career first. In truth he was scared of your rejection and your brother's disappointment. He and Max are friends after all and it might feel like some sort of betrayal to the older Brit.

Lando was currently in London since he had to be back at the MTC for his pre-season training and meetings. He loved being in his home country even if that meant that winter break was over. It means that he gets to spend time with his friends. Like this evening for example.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You hate being late. It wasn't even your fault that a meeting with your boss ran over the scheduled time or that traffic today was worse than the past few days. You were meeting up with your brother, childhood friend and his teammate. And while Max assured you that your late arrival wouldn’t be a problem, anxiety and guilt still washed over you. You navigate your car without a problem down the familiar street to your brother's appartement. The night was cold but with a clear sky, a rare occurrence.

“You know you don’t have to get me anything when you come around.” Max greets you at the door as soon as he sees the flowers clutched in your hand. “Yeah yeah” you wave him off. The apartment was quiet, too quiet for the normal chaos that erupts when Lando and Max are together.

Max notices your confusion. “They got caught up with work stuff too. That’s why I told you not to worry.” He grabs the flowers ready to put them into an improvised vase while adding, “they should be here any minute though.”

“You could’ve added that little detail in your sentence,” you sternly joke with him. He pulls you into his arms mumbling something about next time he will. You missed this, the familiar feeling of being in your brother's arms. Work has been hell for you recently and you didn't get to spend much time with your family or friends. That’s why you didn't think twice about coming around tonight to spend a relaxing evening with your brother and an old friend of yours, Lando.

Before you could do anything else the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the McLaren drivers. “I’ve got it,” you said to Max before walking towards the door. When you opened it, you were a bit surprised when you saw only Oscar standing there. “Hey Oscar. Where is Lando?” you ask him after you let him into the flat. “Oh, he’s still parking the car or something,” Oscar said, “he’ll be here shortly.” You nodded your head at his explanation, softly closing the door behind him. You didn’t lock it though so Lando could get in easier.

Max came out of the kitchen to greet Oscar. While the two aren’t that close they still get along well, spending their evenings occasionally in bigger groups together. The Aussi was quickly accepted into the little group of you three after he joined Lando as his new teammate two years ago. You went back into the kitchen grabbing drinks for everyone while the boys already chatted about racing. The table was set, the ordered food waiting on the counter. There is only one thing missing now.

You still had a slightly anxious feeling that you couldn't shake off. Maybe it was because you would spend the evening in such close proximity to Lando. You haven’t said it to anyone out loud but you knew what the butterflies in your stomach meant. While you didn’t want to admit it to yourself just yet, you couldn’t hide it anymore. You were crushing hard and of course that person has to be your brother’s best friend.

“Hey mate”, Landos voice rans out through the apartment. He came into the kitchen with a wide smile, dimples showing on full display. He quickly pulled each of you into his arms as a greeting. His arms lingered around you for a bit longer, both of you silently enjoying the feeling. “Come on guys, the food is still warm.” Max called out while putting the boxes in the middle of the table. His voice was a bit rougher than usual, almost like he was hiding his emotions. You didn't notice it nor did Lando. Oscar however did notice it and for a millisecond a confused look crossed his face. It was gone before anyone could really notice it.

The four of you sat down at the table, a comfortable silence washing over the room. You sit next to your brother across from Lando. You noticed him looking at you a few times out of the corner of your eye. The butterflies in your stomach were running wild, but you hoped that it didn’t show. As much as you like the idea of being together with the Brit, you knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not only because of his career but also because of your brother. You and Max were close and you know his overprotective sides when it comes to the topic of boys being around you. He was always a bit worried about them, maybe given the fact that he raced professionally. It didn't help that you know most of the formula one grid. He was scared of someone using you for your connections, he would not mention this fear though.

You aren't sure how Max would react to the news of you crushing on his best friend nor did you want to find out anytime soon. You talked about everything over dinner; racing, the upcoming season, video games and just what everybody did during the break. You remembered about a year ago when you were all sitting at the same table. Oscar was still new to the group and quite shy, but he opened up which was good to see.

“All right, how about we talk about something different than just racing,” you said. “Not everybody’s life depends on it.” You jokingly added, knowing that the boys love nothing more than to talk about it, especially when they were off for a few weeks. At some point the conversation shifts, now the talk was all about. testing and the upcoming season. “I have a question guys,” Lando suddenly said. His cheeks are a bit pink, unusually so. Your eyes looked over to Oscar slightly, he looked just as confused as you felt. It almost seems like Lando was shy about something perhaps not knowing what to do with the situation. “Do you have anything planned during the weekend when the season starts?” He finally blurted out after a longer pause.

“Not that I could think of,” you replied, looking at your brother. He also shook his head no. “Why do you ask?” “How about you come to watch it?” It was actually Oscar who voiced the question, his eyes always flickering up to you. It was almost like he was saving Lando from something, maybe embarrassment. “For sure,” Max answered quickly, not having to really think about it. The three men turn their heads to you waiting for your answer. “I’m not sure if I can get time off,” you said. “And also don’t exactly have the money for this trip.” You said shyly.

“Sweetheart, do you really think you have to pay?” Lando asked. You look at him shocked, did he really just say that? “I got it covered. Don’t worry about that.” He added quickly. Maybe it was your imagination, but he looked a bit embarrassed about saying it. Max looked at his best friend, confusion all over his features, shaking his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.

“Please y/n, it would mean the world for both of us,” Lando added, pointing at him and Oscar. He was almost begging at this point. You didn’t know why it was so important for him to have you there. A small part if you wanted to believe that it is because he also had a crush on you. But honestly those were unrealistic expectations. No, Lando could never have a crush on you. That’s for sure.

“Okay okay,” you gave in with a small smile. “I’ll see if I can get a few days off so I can join you in Australia,”you said. You see from the corner of your eyes that your brother has a sour look on his face again. An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. ”Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m done.“ You try to ignore the look on Maxs face by changing the topic.You took both plates and put them into the dishwasher. You miss the way Oscar looks at both Max and Lando. Ever since this conversation started he has had a slightly confused look on his face, not that you noticed.

It was only a few days after that night when your request for the time off was accepted. That night you spend an hour or maybe two on FaceTime with Lando. He was back in Monaco preparing for the testing in Bahrain. It may have been a few days since that call but you can still see the way he smiled when you shared the news. It was one of the best things ever.

You already talked with Max about when you were leaving to Down Under. While you were more than excited to be in the paddock, see the race and talk to some of the drivers that you know, you couldn’t shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. It felt like this little trip would change everything but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because recently you and Lando have talked almost every night, intensifying your crush on the curly haired man. And even though you were nervous you couldn’t wait to see him in person again in Australia.

part 2 (coming soon)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I hope you enjoy it! Any feedback is appreciated!

Requests are open! Want to be added to the taglist? Feel free to reach out.

[quokkicidal]

How you match with skz…

Genre: Fluff, Imagine

Warnings: Reader is implied afab in Jisungs

Summary: Your matching things w/ skz!

Requests open

Masterlist

.•♫•♬• . •♬•♫•. .•♫•♬• . •♬•♫•. .•♫•♬• . •♬•♫•. .

Chan:

Matching hoodies. Chan and his hoodies, but wait, what if you had one. No need to imagine because he already bought you a matching one. if he shows you one he likes, he asks if you want one, and of course you say yes. He gets so giddy when you say yes and buys them right away. When they arrive, he washes them and stands by the dryer so they’re still nice and warm when he takes them out. Literally is so sweet and hugs you after you put it on.

Minho:

Matching cat beanies. This man loves his cats the way fish love water, so of course you’re getting matching cat beanies. Before he buys them he sends you a picture. “Do you want to be the orange cat or the black cat?” Which ever you choose, he’ll get the opposite, so you’re more of a pair than fully matching. Although, his cats don’t seem to like it that much. He sends you a video of Dori being scared of him while he has it on.

Changbin:

Matching gym bags. We all know that he loves the gym, and he loves you. So, that concluded in him buying matching gym bags for you guys. Even if you dont go to the gym, he still wants to match. If you don’t go to the gym, of course you’re still gonna use it. You’ll use it when you go on trips for your cloths. But if you don’t go to the gym. He’ll make sure that everyone sees that you have matching bags. “Oh you like my bag, me and my partner have matching ones.” He’s so proud of it. He also makes you do the heart flexing pose, iykyk.

Hyunjin:

Matching necklaces. I believe that Hyunjin is definitely a jewelry giver. Like he will buy you a necklace with a heart on it. Oh and on the back of that heart are his initials because he thinks it’s sweet that wherever you go, he’s with you in some way. Of course your initials are on the back of his for the same reason. Every time he sees you he touches the necklace and turns it around to see his name. When he’s away on tour, he’ll turn his around and kiss where your initials are, subtly hoping that you’ll start thinking of him.

Felix:

Matching socks. This man loves subtle romance, if you can even call matching socks that. He doesn’t buy not one, not two, but probably twelve packs of matching socks. You always tell each other when you’re wearing them so it makes it even more fun. Sometimes he will literally take his shoes off just to show you. On days he wears them, he’ll text you, “Wear the chickens today,” or “the dogs have dogs on them.” When he gets back from tour, you WILL be getting more socks from the places he’s been.

Jisung:

Matching phone cases. It would probably be a clear case, but you guys have matching stickers and Polaroids in them. If he’s ever overseas and needs a little pick me up, he can just look at the picture of you in the back of his phone. Sometimes he’ll even be dramatic to the other members saying, “I MISS MY WIFE!” He acts like you’re away at war or something. The other guys are so used to it by now.

Seungmin:

Matching nothing cuz he doesn’t want to (you guys have matching note books that he picked up in japan). He usually uses his for journaling/song writing, but whenever you have yours out, he’s doodling in it. Sometimes you wonder how some of the drawings got in there cuz you didn’t see him do it. Little do you know, sometimes he takes your journal and draws and leaves little messages so you can see them on a random Tuesday.

Jeongin:

You guys actually have a lot of matching stuff believe it or not. Whenever he buys something he thinks, “Oh Y/N would like this too.” Like that man picks up matching perfumes/colognes, hats, jackets, shoes, you name it. Whenever he posts his ootd on intsa, he makes sure he takes some pictures with you too, that’s why he has a new lock screen almost every week.

[lila-lou]

✨The smarter choice - 1/8✨

Summary: The pull was undeniable—every glance, every touch, a spark. Dean was everything you shouldn’t want, yet resistance was futile. Teaser

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 8819

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The sounds of pots and pans clanking echoed through the kitchen of the bunker as Sam wiped down the countertops, his broad frame moving smoothly through the space. He hadn’t even noticed his older brother lurking nearby—Dean was always the one who loved to poke fun, and today, he was feeling particularly mischievous.

"You sure you want to bring her here, Sammy?", Dean’s voice rang out, teasing but with an edge of curiosity. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching his younger brother intently. "I mean, the bunker’s great and all, but it’s not exactly a romantic getaway".

Sam didn’t miss a beat. He was used to his brother’s banter, though that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy him. "Dean, we’ve been over this. She’s not like—".

"Not like who, Sam?", Dean interrupted, smirking. "She’s not a hunter like us, right? Just a normal girl, who doesn’t actually know what she’s getting herself into?".

Sam shot Dean a glare, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. "She knows. I’ve told her everything. She’s not freaked out".

Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a grin. "Oh yeah? You sure about that? You sure she’ll be able to handle—", he motioned vaguely with his hand, clearly meaning the life they led—"all this? The monsters, the blood, the nightmares?".

Sam was about to respond when he heard the familiar buzz of his phone from the counter. He quickly wiped his hands on a towel and checked the screen.

It was you.

"Hey, I’m on my way. Should be there in 20. See you soon :)".

Sam smiled softly at the message, his heart warming, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, who suddenly took a step closer, narrowing his eyes.

"See, now that’s what I’m talking about", Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The great Sammy Winchester, the smooth talker. Getting some girl to text you emojis and all. You sure you're ready for her to meet this version of the family?".

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. He wasn’t embarrassed by his brother’s antics—well, not totally—but he was more concerned about how you’d react to it all. You’d been really understanding about the supernatural stuff, but Sam knew meeting Dean was a different matter.

"I’m serious, Dean. She’s not like other people. She’s not going to freak out". Sam looked at Dean with a raised brow, as if daring him to argue.

Dean chuckled, his arms uncrossing as he pushed off the doorframe. "Yeah, we’ll see. It’s just… funny to me. You spent four weeks talking about her and now—", he grinned, "now I get to meet her. What’s she like? You know, aside from being really into you?".

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’ll find out in twenty minutes, won’t you?".

Dean smirked and shrugged. "Guess I will".

Sam turned his attention back to the counter, his heart still thumping with the excitement of seeing you. He really did want you to meet his brother. He had been so careful about introducing you to this world, and now, with you so close, he hoped you wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

But deep down, Sam knew the biggest challenge wasn’t the monsters or the blood—no, it was whether or not Dean would scare you off. That was always a risk when it came to Dean.

Dean’s grin widened as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. His gaze shifted to Sam, that playful glint never leaving his eyes.

“But give me something Sammy”, Dean began. “She probably a little nerdy, huh? You know, like you”. He snorted, clearly amused by his own joke. “I’m picturing a cute, bookish type, glasses the size of saucers, maybe even a ponytail, and some kind of vintage sweater”.

Sam rolled his eyes, trying his best to stay patient with his older brother’s antics. “Dean, you’re not even close”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at his brother’s expression, which was somewhere between fond and embarrassed. “Oh, I know I’m close. You’re basically saying you’re dating a female version of yourself, right? So… same height, same awkwardness, same love for dusty old books, and all the same nerdy stuff that makes you… well, you”. Dean made exaggerated air quotes with his fingers. “You’re probably gonna end up sitting in a corner, playing board games, or—God forbid—watching documentaries together, right?”.

Sam sighed, fighting a smile. “She’s not like that, Dean. She’s…”. He paused, trying to find the words. You were a bit of a nerd—he loved that about you—but there was a lot more to you than that.

Dean was still going strong. “Yeah, yeah. I bet she doesn’t even know what a real hunter is. Probably thinks all this is just some Halloween stuff, huh? Well, good luck with that”. He laughed at his own words, clearly enjoying every second of getting under his brother’s skin. “Can you imagine it, Sammy? You, with your little nerdy girlfriend, sitting there, all cute, surrounded by textbooks and… and cats. So many cats”.

Sam shot him a glare, but it was impossible to hide his amusement completely. “You’re ridiculous”.

“Just tell me one thing. She tall? You know, like… as tall as you?”. He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying getting under Sam’s skin, the older brother’s usual role. “Or is she one of those tiny, cute types you can just—”.

Before Sam could answer, his phone buzzed, cutting him off. His thumb quickly tapped on the message, and he read your text aloud, clearly amused.

“I’ve knocked like five times, Sam. Are you ever going to open the door?”.

Dean’s grin only widened as Sam read your message aloud, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. Dean, of course, wasn’t about to let up. “Guess she’s not the patient type, huh?”, he teased, leaning a little further into his brother’s space. “Maybe you’ve got yourself a little firecracker, Sammy. Or a tall one”.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile creeping up at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a handful sometimes”.

Dean leaned in, his voice taking on a more exaggerated tone. “A handful, huh? What, like a tiny, cute handful with her oversized glasses and a love for knitting?”. He chuckled, clearly relishing the thought of you fitting the quirky, innocent image he had concocted.

Sam was about to retort when his phone buzzed again. He quickly glanced down at it, his heart skipping a beat as he saw your name flashing on the screen once more.

“Sam, are you seriously just gonna leave me out here? Open the door!”.

Sam couldn’t hold back his laughter now. “Alright, alright”, he muttered to himself as he pushed off the counter and made his way toward the door, shooting Dean a look over his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous. Just wait and see”.

Dean was unbothered by the warning, following his brother with his eyes.

Sam ignored him and reached for the door, his excitement growing. He finally swung it open to reveal you standing outside, your hand raised in the air as if ready to knock once more.

You looked up at him, the tiniest hint of impatience in your eyes. “You know, I was starting to think you were ghosting me, Sam”, you teased, a playful smirk curling at the corners of your lips.

Sam stepped aside quickly, scratching the back of his neck with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Dean was…”. He glanced back toward the kitchen, choosing his words carefully. “…distracting me”.

You shook your head, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “It’s fine. But seriously, don’t keep me waiting next time. I was starting to feel like a door-to-door salesperson”.

Sam chuckled, gesturing for you to step inside. As you walked past him and into the bunker, you couldn’t help but glance at cavernous walls. The space felt huge, even more so because of your height. Not even reaching Sam’s chest, the bunker seemed almost overwhelming. Still, you moved forward with confidence, curiosity lighting up your features as you carefully stepped down the metal stairs.

“Whoa”, you said, pausing for a moment to glance back at Sam. “This place is… something else”.

Sam smiled, pleased by your reaction. “Yeah, it’s a bit much at first, but you get used to it”.

As your feet touched the ground, you ran your fingers along the edge of the war room table, taking in the ancient, heavy atmosphere of the place. Just as you were about to comment on it, the sound of footsteps echoed from around the corner.

Dean appeared, beer in hand, his usual cocky grin plastered on his face. “Well, well”, he said, his voice light and teasing as he approached. “What do we have here?”.

But the second his eyes landed on you, something in him shifted.

You turned to face him, and for a moment, Dean simply stared. He hadn’t been expecting someone like you—not even close. You were small, barely coming up to his chest, and the contrast between your petite frame and your confident presence was magnetic. The high-waisted jean shorts you wore showed off your curves in a way that made his throat go dry, and the fitted top you paired them with hinted just enough at your gorgeous figure.

Dean’s brain went blank for a split second.

“Uh…”, he started, his usual charm stuttering as he tried to find words. “You’re… uh… not what I expected”.

Sam cleared his throat, stepping forward and giving Dean a pointed look. “Dean”.

“What?”, Dean shot back, still unable to tear his gaze away from you. He gestured vaguely with his beer. “She’s definitely not nerdy”.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused as you crossed your arms and looked up at him. The size difference was almost comical, but you didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “And what exactly did you expect?”. There was a playful edge to your tone, but something in the way you held his gaze sent a strange jolt through Dean’s chest.

Dean blinked, quickly scrambling to recover. He leaned casually against the wall, lifting his beer to his lips. “I don’t know. Glasses, books, maybe a little cardigan or something”. He smirked, though it wasn’t quite as sharp as usual. “I mean, you’re dating Sam”.

Sam groaned softly, running a hand down his face. “Dean—”.

You cut him off, your smirk widening as you tilted your head. “Sorry to disappoint”, you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “No glasses. And I left my cardigan at home”.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I can see that”. He took another swig of his beer, though it did little to cool the sudden warmth spreading through him.

Sam stepped in then, clearly eager to move things along before Dean could dig himself deeper into the hole he was making. “Alright, let’s sit down. Y/N’s probably hungry”.

“Hungry? Or thirsty?”, Dean quipped, holding up his beer. “I mean, I could—”.

“Dean”, Sam interrupted sharply, shooting him another warning glare.

Dean held up his free hand in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Food it is”. But as he turned to follow Sam toward the kitchen, he couldn’t help but glance back at you one more time.

You caught him looking, your lips curving into a small smile that sent his pulse racing.

What the hell is happening? Dean thought as he dragged his eyes away.

For all the teasing he’d thrown Sam’s way, he wasn’t prepared for this. You weren’t nerdy, awkward, or shy. You were gorgeous, confident, and way more than Dean had been ready for.

And something told him this was just the beginning.

The sound of your light footsteps on the bunker’s floors seemed to echo louder than they should have, or maybe that was just Dean’s heightened awareness of your presence. He tried to shake it off, forcing his thoughts back into his usual easygoing rhythm.

“So”, Dean began, his tone casual as his eyes flicked between you and Sam. “Sammy here been bragging about his cooking skills yet?”.

Sam sighed, already sensing where this was going. “Dean—”.

“Oh, come on”, Dean pressed, walking a little faster so he could fall into step next to you. He gave you one of his signature grins, the one that usually worked wonders on just about anyone. “He didn’t warn you that his idea of fine dining is throwing together a salad and calling it a meal?”.

You glanced up at Dean, amused by the way he towered over you. “Actually”, you said, your voice laced with playful curiosity, “he told me he made something special tonight”.

Dean arched an eyebrow, glancing toward Sam as they all entered the kitchen. “Special, huh?”. His eyes darted to the oven, catching sight of the lasagna baking inside. The smell was already wafting through the room, rich and savory, instantly recognizable.

“Lasagna?”, Dean asked, surprised despite himself. He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest as he turned his attention to Sam.

Sam ignored the jab, moving to check on the lasagna. “Figured you’d be less… disruptive if I made something you liked”, he said, adjusting the oven temperature and glancing at his watch to time it perfectly.

Dean smirked, picking up on Sam’s strategy immediately. “Oh, I see what this is. You’re trying to keep me quiet. Feed me comfort food, and I’ll behave, is that it?”.

Sam didn’t answer, which was all the confirmation Dean needed.

You laughed softly, leaning against the counter opposite Dean. “So lasagna’s your weak spot, huh?”, you teased, your tone light but curious.

Dean turned his grin back to you, his green eyes narrowing slightly in playful suspicion. “Depends”, he said, dragging out the word. “You any good in the kitchen? Or are you more the ‘microwave and hope for the best’ type?”.

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with an amused smirk. “I can hold my own”, you replied, not missing a beat. “But if I’d known I’d be competing with this”, —you gestured toward the oven— “I’d have brought something to prove it”.

Dean chuckled, impressed despite himself. “Well, that just means you’ll have to stick around long enough to show us, huh?”.

Sam gave Dean a pointed look as he turned from the oven to grab plates and utensils. “Dean, maybe try not to scare her off within the first ten minutes”.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just being friendly, Sammy”. He turned his attention back to you, his grin softening into something a little more genuine. “I’m not that scary, am I?”.

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Not yet”, you replied, enjoying the banter. “But I’ll let you know if that changes”.

Sam rolled his eyes, setting the plates down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “Alright, dinner’s almost ready. Can we all just… focus on eating like normal people?”,

Dean gave you a conspiratorial wink before turning his attention back to Sam. “You’re the one making the rules, chef”.

You caught the dynamic between them easily—Dean’s teasing, Sam’s patient exasperation. It was clear they had their differences, but there was no denying the bond between the two brothers. And as Dean reached for another nearby bottle of beer, cracking it open with ease, you found yourself wondering just how much of Dean’s charm was a front, and how much of it was the real him.

The next few minutes passed smoothly—or as smoothly as they could with Dean in the mix. As Sam checked on the lasagna one last time, you busied yourself helping him set the table. You grabbed utensils and napkins from the counter, moving around the space with ease as though you’d been in the bunker a dozen times before.

Dean, leaning against the counter with his beer, watched you with casual interest. “So, Y/N”, he started, his tone light, “if you’re not a hunter, how’d you end up with my nerdy little brother here?”.

You glanced up at him, amused by his bluntness. “We met at a bookstore, actually”, you replied, placing the last fork down. “I was looking for a gift for a friend, and Sam swooped in to save me from picking the world’s most boring biography”.

Dean snorted. “Of course he did. Let me guess, he probably gave you some twenty-minute lecture on obscure historical facts before you even realized he was flirting”.

You smirked, shooting Sam a playful look as he turned back from the oven. “It was more like fifteen minutes”, you said with a shrug. “But to be fair, he was right. The book I was about to buy sounded awful”.

Sam sighed, shaking his head but smiling all the same. “I wasn’t trying to lecture. I was just being helpful”.

“Sure you were”, Dean shot back, his grin widening. “Bet you even pulled the puppy-dog eyes, didn’t you?”.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it made Dean’s chest tighten in a way he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t sure if it was the way you seemed so at ease around them, or the way your laugh lit up the room, but something about you had him hooked.

“Sam’s told you about… you know, all the crazy crap we deal with, right?”, Dean said, changing the subject as he leaned in slightly,

You nodded, your expression growing a little more serious. “Yeah. He’s been easing me into it. It’s… a lot, but I’m getting there”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed. “And you’re not freaking out? Most people would’ve run for the hills the second they heard the words ‘demonic possession’”.

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s a lot to take in, sure, but Sam’s been really patient about explaining things. And honestly? I think what you guys do is incredible. It’s scary, yeah, but also… kind of amazing”.

Dean blinked, caught off guard by your sincerity. He wasn’t used to hearing people talk about their work like that, especially not people who weren’t hunters themselves. “Huh”, he said after a moment, a crooked grin forming on his face. “You might be tougher than you look, short stuff”.

The nickname made you laugh again, and you couldn’t help but shoot back, “Careful, Dean. I may be small, but I can hold my own”.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that”, Dean said smoothly, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “Bet you’ve got a hell of a right hook for someone your size”.

“Maybe”, you replied, a playful glint in your eye. “But you’ll just have to take my word for it”.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from where he knew it was headed. “Dean, maybe stop interrogating her and let her breathe for a second”.

Dean waved him off, his attention still fixed on you. “Relax, Sammy. We’re just getting to know each other”, He leaned back slightly, his tone turning more casual. “You got a day job, or are you just spending all your free time keeping this guy out of trouble?”.

You smiled at Dean, enjoying the banter. “Actually, I’m a fitness coach”, you said, leaning casually against the counter.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his grin widening. “A fitness coach?”, he repeated, his tone equal parts impressed and intrigued. “Didn’t see that one coming”.

You laughed softly, folding your arms as you looked up at him. “Why’s that? You don’t think I could handle it?”.

Dean tilted his head, giving you a quick once-over, and while his expression remained playful, there was a genuine curiosity in his eyes. “Oh, I think you could handle it just fine”, he said. “But man, Sammy must have his hands full. What, you got him running laps between cases now?”.

Sam sighed, clearly trying to stay out of the conversation, but you were quick to play along. “Not yet”, you said, shooting Sam a teasing look. “But I’m thinking about it. He could probably use the cardio”.

Dean barked out a laugh, his head tilting back slightly. “Oh, I like you”, he said, pointing at you with his beer. “You’re a smartass. Sam needs more of that in his life”.

You grinned at Dean’s comment, enjoying the playful energy in the room. “Oh, trust me, he gets plenty of sass from me”, you said with a smirk. Turning to Sam, who had been quietly tolerating Dean’s antics, you reached up and pressed a quick kiss to his bicep—the highest point you could easily reach without him bending down.

“Just kidding”, you mumbled teasingly as Sam gave you a soft, amused smile. He leaned down slightly, brushing a kiss against your forehead in return, his hand grazing the small of your back as he murmured, “Thanks for putting up with him”.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you grabbed the last glass and placed it on the table. “I think I’m handling it just fine”.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the two of you, the ease of your affection and the way Sam looked at you. There was something about the way you and Sam moved together—comfortably, naturally, like you’d been part of this world for longer than the few weeks you’d actually been dating—that made something twist uncomfortably in Dean’s chest.

Dean took another sip of his beer, the cool bitterness doing little to chase away the nagging feeling in his chest. He leaned back against the counter, his posture relaxed, but his jaw tightened subtly as he watched you and Sam. There was something about the way Sam looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—that made Dean’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

Not that he’d ever admit it. Hell, he barely even admitted it to himself.

It wasn’t like he was jealous. Dean Winchester didn’t do jealousy. No, this was just… him being protective. Yeah, that was it. He was just making sure you were really who Sam thought you were. Making sure Sam wasn’t setting himself up for another heartbreak. It had nothing to do with the way you smiled when you looked up at Sam, or the way your laugh seemed to linger in the air, soft and warm.

Dean cleared his throat, forcing his gaze away from you. He focused instead on the beer bottle in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. “How long until dinner’s ready, Sammy? I’m starving over here”.

Sam shot him a glance, clearly catching the faint edge in Dean’s tone. “It’s almost done”, he said, moving to check on the lasagna. “You can survive a few more minutes”.

Dean smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, good thing you went all out. I wouldn’t survive another night of your rabbit food experiments”.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it made Dean glance up despite himself. “Rabbit food?”, you teased, looking between the brothers. “That´s about your love for salad?”.

Sam sighed, shooting Dean an exasperated look. “He’s talking about the one time I made a salad with kale”.

“It wasn’t a salad”, Dean shot back, pointing at Sam with his beer. “It was punishment. Nobody eats kale by choice”.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t bring a kale smoothie, huh?”.

Dean couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips. “You’d better not. I’d kick you out on principle”.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, busying himself with pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

Dean’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself grounded. He wasn’t jealous. He was just… protective. Yeah, that was the story he was sticking to.

Dean watched you as you moved around the kitchen, effortlessly fitting into the bunker like you’d always been there. It was unsettling how natural it all seemed. His eyes followed you, and he took another sip of his beer, determined to shake whatever it was that had him so off balance.

But then you leaned over toward him, close enough that he caught the faint scent of whatever perfume you were wearing. Your thigh brushed against his, the contact sending a jolt of heat up his leg. Before he could react, you tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I fucking hate kale”, you whispered, your voice low enough that Sam couldn’t hear, but there was no mistaking the teasing lilt in your tone.

Dean froze for a second, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process the sudden proximity, the soft warmth of your leg against his, and the quiet intimacy of your words. Then, almost involuntarily, a grin broke across his face, quick and genuine.

“Good”, he murmured back, his voice equally low. “Means I don’t have to kick you out after all”.

You laughed quietly, the sound sending a ripple of something warm and unfamiliar through him. Dean blinked, his grin fading slightly as he tried to steady himself. He cleared his throat, shifting slightly as he sat down at the table. He told himself it was nothing—just the heat of the moment, the way your laugh had hit him, or the accidental brush of your thigh. It didn’t mean anything. He could shake this off, no problem.

Except it wasn’t nothing. Not with the faint trace of your perfume still lingering in the air or the way your mischievous smirk had seemed to sear itself into his brain. Dean shifted again, leaning forward slightly in his chair to subtly adjust himself under the table, hoping like hell neither you nor Sam noticed.

Sam, thankfully oblivious, placed a plate in front of Dean and another in front of himself before sitting down next to you. “Alright, dig in”, he said, shooting you a small smile. “Let me know what you think”.

You grabbed your fork, glancing at Sam with a grin. “No pressure, right?”.

Dean snorted, hoping to distract himself from his predicament. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry. This is probably the best thing Sammy’s ever made. Not that the competition’s stiff or anything”.

Sam shot Dean a dry look, but you laughed, your shoulders shaking slightly. The sound sent another ripple of heat through Dean’s chest, and he focused hard on cutting into his lasagna, the knife scraping against the plate.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence”, Sam said sarcastically, turning his attention back to you. “I’m glad someone appreciates the effort”.

“I think it’s great”, you said after taking a bite. “Seriously, Sam. This is amazing”.

Dean grunted in agreement, though his focus was less on the food and more on keeping his gaze off you. The way you leaned forward slightly when you laughed, the way your lips curved around your fork—it was too much, and he knew if he let himself keep staring, he was going to lose whatever shred of composure he had left.

“So, Y/N”, Dean said, forcing himself to speak, his tone casual as he leaned back slightly in his chair, “You like it?”. He gestured vaguely around the bunker, doing his best to sound normal despite the tension knotting his shoulders. “I mean, it’s not exactly… cozy”.

You glanced up at him, your eyes warm. “It’s definitely different”, you admitted. “But honestly? I think it’s kind of cool. It’s like something out of a movie”.

Dean smirked, though he avoided looking directly at you for too long. “Yeah, well, wait until the pipes start rattling in the middle of the night. Real cinematic experience”.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He just hates doing maintenance”.

You laughed again, and Dean felt his resolve waver. He grabbed his beer, downing half of it in one go just to have something to do with his hands.

The meal continued, with Sam and you trading stories while Dean chimed in occasionally, mostly to toss in a sarcastic comment or crack a joke. But the whole time, that nagging feeling sat heavy in his chest, and he couldn’t shake the heat pooling low in his stomach.

It was going to be a long night.

The meal wrapped up smoothly, though Dean spent most of it trying to keep his focus on his lasagna. By the time the dishes were done, Sam had his sleeves rolled up, his hands wet from drying the last plate, and you were leaning against the counter, chatting idly with him about your plans for the next day.

Dean lingered nearby, his fifth beer in hand, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but on you.

Finally, as Sam dried his hands and set the dish towel aside, he stepped close to you, his palm brushing down the small of your back in a way that seemed almost instinctive. “Ready to call it a night?”, he asked gently, his voice low, the kind of tone that was meant just for you.

You glanced up at him, reading the softness in his eyes. Sam wasn’t one for late nights, not unless a hunt demanded it. His mornings usually started early with a run or a workout, and you knew he valued his sleep schedule more than most.

But you? You weren’t tired at all. You were used to staying up late, whether it was working on plans for your clients or just relaxing with a spicy book or a show.

Still, you smiled at Sam, your hand brushing his briefly. “Sure”, you said lightly. “If you’re ready, we can head to bed”.

Dean, who had been pretending to check the contents of the fridge for the last few minutes, glanced over at the exchange. Something about the way Sam’s hand stayed at the small of your back made his jaw tighten again, though he quickly covered it with a casual tone. “Wow, Sammy, calling it a night already? It’s barely nine. You getting old or what?”.

Sam shot Dean a look, but there was no real annoyance in it. “Some of us actually like starting the day early”, he said, his hand still resting gently on you. “Not all of us are night owls”.

Dean smirked, leaning back against the counter with his beer. “Night owl? Please. I’m just making sure the world doesn’t fall apart while you’re catching your beauty sleep”.

You laughed softly at that, glancing between the brothers. “So what, Dean? You stay up all night patrolling the bunker or something?”.

Dean’s grin widened, his eyes flicking to yours with a spark of mischief. “Something like that”, he said, his tone easy. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on things around here”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Ignore him. He just watches bad movies and eats junk food when he should be sleeping”.

“Hey, classics aren’t bad movies”, Dean shot back, pointing his beer bottle at Sam. “And nachos at midnight? That’s living, Sammy”.

You grinned, folding your arms. “I think I’m with Dean on this one. Nachos at midnight sounds way more fun than an early morning run”.

Dean’s smirk turned into a full grin at your response, his eyes glinting as he looked over at you. “Finally, someone around here with taste”.

Sam rolled his eyes at your comment, though there was no mistaking the fond smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, you two can bond over junk food another time”, he said, his hand brushing gently against your back again. “I’ll leave you to it, Dean”.

You glanced back at Dean, your smile softening as your eyes met his. “It was nice meeting you, Dean”, you said warmly, your voice genuine. “I can see where Sam gets his sense of humor now”.

Dean blinked, caught off guard by the way your words—and that smile—made his heart skip a beat. He forced a grin, though it felt a little stiff. “Yeah, you too”, he said, his voice a bit quieter than usual. He gave a small nod, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer than he intended. “Goodnight, short stuff”.

You chuckled softly at the nickname, turning back to Sam as he led you toward the hallway. Dean stayed rooted in place, leaning back against the counter with his beer as he watched the two of you disappear from sight. The sound of your voices—low and comfortable—faded as you headed down the hall.

For a long moment, Dean just stood there, staring at the empty space where you’d been. He let out a long breath, running a hand over his face before muttering under his breath, “What the hell, Winchester?”.

He downed the rest of his beer in one swig, the bottle clinking softly against the counter as he set it down. Shaking his head, Dean turned back toward the fridge, already looking for something to distract himself from the way his heart had stubbornly refused to settle all evening.

But the image of your smile—soft, genuine, and directed at him—lingered, refusing to fade. And no amount of nachos or bad movies was going to fix that.

Inside Sam’s room, you looked around, taking in the neat, utilitarian setup. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it had a certain comfort to it that matched Sam’s personality. The shelves lined with books, the neatly folded bedding, and even the scent of him lingering in the air—it all felt cozy and inviting.

Sam moved across the room, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a simple white shirt. He handed it to you with a soft smile. “Here”, he said, his voice low and gentle. “This should be comfortable for the night”.

You took the shirt, your fingers brushing his briefly as you gave him a small smile. “Thanks”, you said, though there was a slight edge to your voice that you hoped he didn’t pick up on. You’d been dating for weeks now, and while things between you and Sam were great, there was a tension simmering under the surface that you couldn’t ignore.

Sam hadn’t made a move to take things further, not once. No matter how many nights you spent together, how much time you spent in his arms, he never seemed to push for more than kissing and light touches. It wasn’t that you didn’t respect his pace; you did. But you were only human, and lately, the frustration had started to build.

And tonight? Tonight was unbearable. You couldn’t explain it—maybe it was the lingering energy from dinner, the way Dean had looked at you with that mischievous grin, or the way Sam’s hand kept brushing against the small of your back. Whatever it was, it had you wound tighter than a spring, and your body was practically humming with need.

You turned away from Sam as you began to undress, your fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. You tried to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks, aware of Sam sitting quietly behind you, his presence filling the room. The air felt heavier than usual, like a current of unspoken tension buzzed between you.

You slipped off your top next, leaving your bare skin exposed for a moment. You weren’t wearing a bra—something you’d normally think nothing of, but tonight, it felt impossible to ignore. The cool air brushed over your skin as you reached for the oversized white shirt Sam had given you, the fabric soft in your hands.

Pulling it over your head, you let the material fall into place. It was so big on you that it nearly reached your knees, the hem swaying slightly as you moved. The sleeves hung past your wrists, making it look more like a dress than a shirt, and you couldn’t help but glance down at yourself, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips.

When you finally turned back around, Sam was already in bed, propped up against the pillows with a book in his hands. His eyes flicked up as you moved, and for a brief moment, you caught something in his expression—a flicker of something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You good?”, he asked, his voice soft as he closed the book and set it on the nightstand.

You nodded, climbing into bed beside him and pulling the covers up to your lap. “Yeah”, you said quietly, though your voice felt strained. You couldn’t shake the awareness of him next to you, the way his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, or the warmth of his body so close to yours.

He reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into. As he settled back into the pillows, you found yourself lying rigidly on your side, staring into the darkness and trying to will away the storm of frustration building inside you.

The shirt you wore smelled like Sam, wrapping you in his familiar, comforting scent, but it only made things worse. Your body was on fire, and every little movement—his hand brushing the covers, the sound of his breathing, the shift of the mattress as he adjusted his position—felt like a spark igniting something deeper within you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip as you tried to focus on anything but the ache that had settled low in your stomach. Sam’s steady, calming presence had always been enough to soothe you, but tonight, it wasn’t working.

And the worst part? You had no idea what to do about it.

Meanwhile, in the war room, Dean sat slouched at the map table, his boots propped up on the edge as he cradled a large glass of whiskey in one hand. The amber liquid caught the dim light, casting faint shadows that danced on the tabletop. He swirled the drink absentmindedly, staring into the space ahead of him but seeing nothing—nothing except you.

He let out a heavy sigh, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a long sip. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of you leaning toward him in the kitchen, your thigh brushing his, the warmth of your breath on his skin as you whispered, I fucking hate kale.

It wasn’t just that, though. It was everything—the way you moved, the sound of your laughter, the way you fit so effortlessly into the space that had always felt so cold and utilitarian. And, of course, the way you looked at Sam, the softness in your eyes that made it so damn clear how much you cared about his brother.

Dean scowled at the thought, tipping back his glass and draining the rest of the whiskey in one go. He set the glass down with a muted thud, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His jaw tightened as he scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

It’s nothing, he told himself. Just a little admiration. She’s cool, that’s all.

But the ache in his chest said otherwise.

The thought of you in Sam’s room, wrapped in his arms, made Dean’s stomach twist in a way that felt uncomfortably close to jealousy. He clenched his fists, shaking his head as though he could physically dislodge the thought from his brain.

“This is ridiculous”, he muttered under his breath, reaching for the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another glass. He stared at the amber liquid for a moment before taking another sip, the burn doing little to drown out the frustration bubbling inside him.

He didn’t get it. You were with Sam—his brother. You were off-limits, plain and simple. And yet, there was something about you that felt like a punch to the gut every time you smiled.

Dean huffed, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. The faint creak of the bunker’s pipes echoed in the distance, a reminder of how quiet and empty the place felt most of the time.

But you’d brought a kind of energy into the bunker that Dean hadn’t realized he’d been missing. And it was driving him insane.

Dean drained the second glass of whiskey, letting the burn spread through his chest as he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze drifted to the door that led to the hallway.

“Get a grip, Winchester”, he muttered to himself, shaking his head again. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of footsteps entering the war room. His first instinct was to expect Sam, coming to lecture him about something—or maybe just checking on him—but when he turned, he froze.

It was you.

You stood in the doorway, looking a little out of place, your bare feet pressing softly against the cold floor. Your hands fidgeted at your sides as you tugged your hair behind your ear, mumbling, “Sorry, I was just looking for the bathroom. Didn’t mean to interrupt”.

Dean’s gaze lingered, the whiskey in his hand forgotten as his eyes took you in. You were wearing Sam’s oversized white shirt, and on your smaller frame, it hung loosely, nearly brushing your knees. But the cool air of the bunker seemed to cling to you, and he couldn’t help but notice how the faint chill had tightened your nipples against the fabric of the shirt.

He forced his gaze back to your face, his throat tightening. “Uh… yeah”, he said, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter. “Bathroom’s down the hall, second door on the left”.

You gave him a small smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks”, you murmured, your voice soft. But instead of immediately leaving, your eyes flicked to the map table, then to the glass of whiskey in front of him.

Dean followed your gaze to the glass of whiskey in front of him, his lips curving into a slow, teasing smirk. He leaned back in his chair, his green eyes flicking back to yours as he lifted the glass in a mock toast.

“Don’t tell me you’re a whiskey girl”, he said, his voice light but carrying that unmistakable edge of mischief.

You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile as you stepped further into the room, your bare feet making the faintest sound against the cold tiles. “Maybe I am”, you replied, your voice soft but with just enough challenge to make his smirk widen. “What’s wrong with whiskey?”.

Dean chuckled, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Nothing”, he said, his tone teasing. “Just didn’t expect it. I mean, you’re walking around in Sam’s shirt, looking all cute and innocent, and here you are, eyeing my drink like you’re ready to steal it”.

Your cheeks warmed at his words, but you refused to let him fluster you. Crossing your arms, you leaned slightly against the edge of the map table, meeting his gaze head-on. “Maybe I was just wondering why you’re sitting here all alone in the middle of the night”, you shot back. “Doesn’t seem like your usual scene”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed by your quick comeback. “Huh”, he muttered, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “What about you? Thought you’d be in bed, snug as a bug with Sammy by now”.

You hesitated, glancing toward the hallway before looking back at him. “I couldn’t sleep”, you admitted, your voice quieter now.

Dean tilted his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine curiosity. “And you ended up here, instead of the bathroom”, he said, gesturing around the room. “Lucky me”.

You laughed lightly, tucking your hair behind your ear again as you glanced at the map table. “I guess so”, you said, your smile lingering as your eyes returned to his. “But seriously… is whiskey your midnight snack now, or what?”.

Dean chuckled, reaching for the bottle and pouring a small amount into the empty glass beside him. He slid it toward you, his smirk returning. “Why don’t you find out?”.

You glanced at the glass, then back at him, your brow lifting slightly. “Is this how you get all your guests to stay up late with you?”, you teased, taking the glass in your hand.

Dean leaned back in his chair, watching as you reached for the glass. His lips parted slightly, and without even thinking, his tongue darted out to wet them, a habit he couldn’t seem to shake whenever his nerves got the better of him—or when his thoughts strayed somewhere they shouldn’t.

His gaze flicked downward, almost involuntarily, landing on the curve of your chest beneath Sam’s oversized shirt. The fabric shifted slightly as you raised the glass to your lips, the movement drawing his attention like a magnet.

Dean’s eyes lingered for a second too long, his grip tightening around his own glass as he caught himself staring. He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze back up to your face. You didn’t seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you were just too good at hiding it. Either way, it only made the tension in the room thicker, more suffocating.

You set the glass down. “What?”, you asked, your voice casual but with a glint of curiosity. “You’ve been quiet all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?”.

Dean smirked, trying to mask the heat crawling up his neck. “Nah”, he said, leaning back again and taking another sip of whiskey. “Just thinking”.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “About?”.

He hesitated, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He wanted to say something cocky, to deflect like he always did, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he shrugged, his voice dropping slightly. “About how you’re a hell of a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for”.

Your eyes widened slightly, the soft flush in your cheeks deepening as you let out a quiet laugh. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment”, you said, your tone light but tinged with something warmer.

Dean tilted his head, his smirk softening. “You should”.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was charged, heavy with unspoken things that neither of you seemed ready to address. Dean’s chest tightened as he watched you tuck your hair behind your ear again, the movement so simple yet somehow mesmerizing.

You bit your lip lightly, your arms wrapping around yourself as an involuntary shiver ran through you. The cool air of the bunker combined with the cold tiles underfoot wasn’t doing you any favors, and the oversized shirt you wore didn’t provide much warmth. You glanced away from Dean, suddenly feeling more vulnerable under his gaze.

Dean sighed softly, setting his glass down on the table with a quiet clink. The sound drew your attention back to him just in time to see him stand up, his broad frame now looming over you. He wasn’t as tall as Sam, but he felt larger somehow—his shoulders broader, his presence more commanding. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken energy as he closed the space between you in just a few steps.

“Here”, he muttered, his voice low and rough as he reached for the flannel he’d been wearing. The movement made his biceps flex beneath his gray T-shirt, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles shifted. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care—as he slipped the flannel off his shoulders and held it out to you.

Before you could say anything, Dean gently draped it over your frame, the fabric settling around you like a warm cocoon. It smelled like him—faintly of whiskey, leather, and something distinctly Dean. You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat as you realized just how close he was.

“Can’t have you freezing to death on my watch”, he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge replaced with something warmer, almost protective.

Dean tugged the flannel tighter around your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your arms as he adjusted it to make sure you were warm. The gesture was meant to be casual, maybe even brotherly, but as he shifted closer, his hips inadvertently brushed against your belly.

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t mean to react, but the unmistakable press of him against you—even through his thick jeans—sent a jolt of heat rushing through your body. Your gaze flicked up to his face, and you saw his jaw tighten, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came.

Dean froze, his hands still resting lightly on the flannel draped around you. He’d felt it too, the way his body betrayed him at the worst possible moment. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to push down the flood of sensations threatening to overwhelm him.

For a second, neither of you moved. The tension that had been simmering between you all night boiled over, the air crackling with an intensity that made your pulse race. You weren’t sure what to do—what to say—but your body seemed to have a mind of its own, leaning ever so slightly closer to him as if drawn by some invisible force.

Dean’s hands dropped from the flannel, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a half step back, his expression unreadable as he looked away, his jaw clenched tightly. “You should, uh…”, he started, his voice rough and uneven, “you should probably get back to Sam”.

His words felt like a bucket of cold water, and you blinked, stepping back yourself as you clutched the flannel tighter around you. “Right”, you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I should”.

Dean nodded, still avoiding your gaze as he grabbed his glass from the table and drained what was left in one swift motion. His other hand raked through his hair, and he let out a slow, shaky breath. “Goodnight, Y/N”, he said, his voice softer this time but still laced with tension.

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, you turned and walked toward the hallway, your bare feet padding softly against the tiles. As you disappeared around the corner, you couldn’t help but glance back once, catching a glimpse of Dean standing there, his shoulders tense, his head bowed.

Dean didn’t move until he was sure you were gone. When he finally sat back down, his elbows resting on the table as he buried his face in his hands, he muttered to himself, “What the hell are you doing, man?”.

But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the ghost of your touch and the warmth of your body against his lingered, driving him closer to the edge than he cared to admit.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick

[wtfisgoingonirl]

Why everything is well planed and A doesn’t matter

First of all, may I remind you that we have witnessed this before. The sh*t is repeating. It’s like listening to a broken record.

The elevator pic, probably old. We don’t see L’s face. They’re standing next to each other doesn’t imply couple. The pics of A in the background at the hotel pool. Not a coincidence. We have seen her on a lounger soooo often, that I’m actually scared she will get skin cancer from all the sunbathing. Talking of her in the background, that is were she belongs. Sorry, no offense, but she just seems (unsym)pathetic. I know its unreasonable, but I’m so very tired of seeing her and she really gets on my nerves.

Second, N following A out of the blue, is such a clear sign something is still off. Maybe it is the last straw to get her the attention, recognition or whatever she wants, so she will eventually leave N and L alone. I’m not sure N following her on IG will work out. Only a few people are interested in A. Many people already assumed she was with L but that didn’t get her anywhere.

At last, whatever was the reason for the confusing messages we got this month, it had to be done. „Let’s get this done.“ is what L said to A entering the Boss Event.

N and L are not mocking us. In fact we just got the selfie pic at SAGs. The pic is crystal clear, so we are able to see their faces on the screen of the mobile. That was arranged also.

Why? Because N and L know that the reappearance of A is a bitter pill to swallow for the fans. 

I predict: We will get a happy ending soon.

Stay strong! Peace!✌🏻 

[car-o-line]

Hi! Would you be able to do a Catnap/Theo Grambell x reader where they're uh I wouldn't say friends but more than acquaintances. They both shared a disdain for the factory they call home. Reader is both dreaded and intimidated by the bigger bodies so when Theo becomes Catnap they both feel lonelier than ever now that they never can cross paths. You may add anything you'd like😊thank you!!

4TH POPPY PLAYTIME POST IN A ROWWWW, sorry I’m totally not like obsessed with it or anything..nope, nah, Nuh uh, nada.

Catnap(Theodore) with a acquaintance reader who’s scared af as him :P

You and Theo never talked that much in the orphanage.

Yes, while you both knew each other by name and face you both never had many talking interactions. And if you did, they were short and or silently playing with toys beside each other.

It was like that until one day you realized that you hadn’t seen Theo at all that day. But when you asked one of the scientists they told you that Theo had gotten into an accident, that he had grabbed a grabpack and accidentally electrocuted himself with it.

This startled you and you were worried for your poor classmate(since you both are probably the same age and are in the same class as well.)

But really you wouldn’t actually see the real “Theodore” ever again. And you had to accept that.

So when the “Hour of Joy” came about, you were scared but you knew you had to hide, so you did.

The Prototype didn’t notice you and brought all the other orphans down to the lab, leaving you by yourself.

After that you just wandered around the playcare before coming across a file.

A file named “Experiment 1188.”

It told you everything.

You were horrified, how could such a young boy be turned into such a beast?

Since you knew Theo- Catnap. Stayed in Home Sweet Home, you decided that you’d sleep somewhere else. Just to make sure that your chances of running into Catnap were extra low.

Little did you know, Theodore actually had no intention of killing you.

He knew you weren’t with the other orphans in the labs, the Prototype told him. So that meant you were either dead or roaming around a the Player.

He knew it was the latter because even if he isn’t near you, he watches you from afar once you’re in his sight. You know he doesn’t always stay in Home Sweet Home right?

Actually the reasons he won’t kill you are quite simple:

1: He knows you. And he thinks you’re a nice person.

2: He knows you HATE the factory because every time you drew a picture you’d never draw the real place in the background, you’d only draw fake houses because “a fake place is better than here.” So he doesn’t even want to think about how much you have it now.

3: The Prototype knows you’re around but he never told Catnap to hurt you in anyway, so he decided that he’ll just keep going with keeping you okay until the Prototype says otherwise.

The Prototype is fine with you being around because he himself knows that you have a hatred towards the factory.

Anyway, there were a few times when you were literally starving, but once you continued on suddenly a pack of fruit snacks appeared, I wonder where that came frommm..

Catnap watched you from afar even if you aren’t in Home Sweet Home. So when he senses that you’re in distress or in danger he’ll silently protect you or quietly give you supplies when you aren’t looking.

Overall even if you both don’t talk much you do realize that the original Theodore is in Catnap somewhere, and Catnap realizes that he actually misses playing with you, even if it isn’t communicating playing.

[reomikagekin]

Hi! after Wiege i got heartbroken so can i request a modern time scenario where the reader writes a love letter but accidentally gives it to another person? Requesting for Luka and Ivan hope you're having a good day:)

(if u meant it in a different way please let me know!! Its 6am so I might have understood it differently😭)

Misdelivered Feelings

You never expected writing a love letter to be so nerve-wracking.

It wasn’t even supposed to be a big deal—just a simple, honest confession. You had spent far too long harboring feelings for him, and you figured this was the easiest way to finally let them out. No pressure, no awkward stammering—just ink on paper, saying all the things you were too scared to say aloud.

But somehow, fate had other plans.

Because the letter didn’t end up in his hands.

Luka

You were expecting nervousness when you handed over the envelope. What you weren’t expecting was Luka staring at it in complete silence, his usually unreadable expression giving way to the faintest flicker of surprise.

“…This is for me?” His voice was unusually soft, and his fingers twitched as if debating whether to open it.

No. No, no, no. You hadn’t meant to—your stomach dropped. Luka was perceptive; he had probably already noticed the name inside wasn’t his.

You reached for it in a panic. “Wait, that’s not—”

Luka turned away, already peeling open the envelope.

You watched in horror as his sharp gaze scanned the words, his expression impossible to read. Then—unexpectedly—he laughed.

It wasn’t mocking, but something about it made you shiver. Luka’s laugh was rare, and when it did come, it was always laced with something unreadable.

“So,” he mused, tilting his head at you, “who was this really meant for?”

Your face burned. “No one! Give it back!”

Luka held it just out of reach, looking far too entertained by your distress. “I should keep this,” he hummed. “It’s very sweet. Would be a shame if it ended up in the wrong hands again.”

“Luka.”

He smiled—princely, polished, but with an undeniable edge of mischief. “Relax, I’m not that cruel,” he said, finally handing it back. “But you should be more careful. Someone else might take it the wrong way.”

You snatched it from him, resisting the urge to crumple it in your fists. He was still watching you, his usual distance replaced with a rare glimmer of amusement.

“Whoever it’s for,” Luka added, tone unreadable, “they’re lucky.”

Then, without another word, he walked away, leaving you standing there—your heart pounding for an entirely different reason than before.

---

Ivan

Ivan blinked down at the letter in his hands.

You had barely finished handing it over before realizing—too late—that something had gone very wrong.

“Uh,” you started, reaching for it. “That’s not—”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, holding it out of your reach. “You’re giving me a love letter? How bold.”

Your soul nearly left your body. “No! That’s not—It’s not for you!”

Ivan grinned, clearly having too much fun at your expense. “Is that so?” He made a show of turning the envelope over in his hands, tapping it against his palm. “Should I open it?”

Panic seized you. “Don’t you dare—”

Too late.

His sharp eyes flickered over the words, scanning the page with quiet interest. He read quickly, his expression unreadable—until something in it shifted.

“…Huh.”

Your heart pounded. “What?”

Ivan tilted his head, amusement still lingering on his face, but something else settling in his gaze—something thoughtful.

“Just thinking,” he said, tapping the paper against his lips, “you must really like this person.”

You swallowed hard. “I—”

“I wonder if they deserve it.”

The words made you blink. There was something strangely sincere about the way he said it, as if he was actually considering it, weighing the worth of the person in your mind.

Before you could answer, he handed the letter back with a slight smirk. “Be careful next time. You wouldn’t want the wrong person getting it, right?”

His eyes lingered on you for a second too long before he turned away, walking off as if nothing had happened.

And yet, as you stared at his retreating figure, you couldn’t help but wonder—

Did he actually mean that?

[minxmut-cafe]

BEAR WITH ME ?? | 02.

Pairing: Bear hybrid Namjoon x Ferret hybrid reader

Word count: 10k words.

Authors note: HERE IS THE CONTINUATION !! LET'S GOOOO.

Warning: Smut, Vaginal sex, oral sex (M & F receiving), hybrid sex, mentions of death, mention of heat, feral Namjoon, size kink, spanking, mating press, mentions of various sex positions, reader being a menace, Namjoons a gentle giant, rough sex, cunnilingus, idiots in love, reader is immature, Namjoon is suffering, HUGE size difference (Imagine gyomei and shinobu). Masturbation, Namjoons a boob guy. Titty analysis :)

Synopsis:

"Namjoon spots a Tiny ferret hybrid getting pushed around by a bunch of hyena hybrids and decides to intervene. Little did he know that would lead to a series of interesting, traumatising and hilarious memories, some of which he's convinced were attempted murder attempts."

Namjoon frowned at his phone, staring at the empty notification bar.

Nothing.

Not a single text. No missed calls. No chaotic voice messages filled with unhinged rambling.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

At first, he was relieved.

After the hell he went through last night, he figured maybe some space would be good.

Give him time to reset, to push certain thoughts out of his brain.

But as the hours passed, that relief slowly turned into something else.

Unease.

By the time another day rolled around with still no sign of you, Namjoon was officially concerned.

You never went this long without contact.

Were you sick?

In trouble?

Or worse—avoiding him?

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

No.

No, that didn’t make sense.

If you were mad at him, you’d tell him—probably in the most dramatic way possible.

So where the hell were you?

Frowning, Namjoon pulled out his phone and dialed your number.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Then went to voicemail.

Namjoon’s stomach twisted.

Something was wrong.

And he was going to find out what.

The moment Namjoon opened the door to her place, the scent hit him, Namjoon froze.

His brain short-circuited.

Because fuck.

Fuck.

This wasn’t sickness.

This was something else entirely.

A deep, primal part of him recognized it instantly.

Heat.

The realization slammed into him like a truck.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The disappearance. The radio silence. The way his instincts immediately reacted.

Because he wasn’t just a man.

He was a bear hybrid.

Territorial.

Possessive.

And, when faced with the scent of a fertile, needy female—

Oh, fuck.

His grip on the soup container tightened.

He needed to leave.

Right now.

Before his instincts did something stupid.

Namjoon didn’t even get the chance to think.

One second, he was frozen in place, brain malfunctioning.

The next—

She was on him.

Tiny arms wrapped around his waist. A small, trembling body pressing flush against his.

Namjoon locked up.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

Because fuck, she was burning up.

"J-Joonie," you whimpered. "It hurts..."

His breath hitched.

His instincts screamed—urging him to hold you, soothe you, claim you.

But he couldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

"I—I couldn’t find anyone," you continued, voice thick with frustration and something dangerously close to desperation. "No one I trust. No one I want."

Namjoon swallowed thickly.

His heartbeat was a thunderous roar in his ears.

But then—

Then you curled into him, fingers gripping his shirt, voice barely above a whisper.

"I’m scared, Joonie..."

His entire world stopped.

"If I don’t mate..." You shivered violently. "I could get sick. Really sick. Aplastic anemia can—"

Namjoon growled.

Deep.

Instinctual.

Dangerous.

Because no.

No, no, no.

That wasn’t happening.

Not to you.

Not on his fucking watch.

Namjoon moved before he could think.

The soup was forgotten, placed on the nearest surface as he bent down and lifted you into his arms.

You gasped softly, fingers clutching at his shoulders, but you didn’t fight him. If anything, you melted into him, whimpering as you buried your face against his throat, your whole body trembling.

His jaw locked.

Fuck.

He had to be careful.

Because he could smell you.

Feel you.

And his instincts were howling.

But he shoved them down and carried you to your bedroom, placing you gently on the bed.

Then he stepped back, inhaled sharply, and forced himself to focus.

"Do you want me to mate you?" His voice was low, steady—but beneath it was something rough. Something dangerous.

Your breath hitched.

"J-Joonie—"

"Listen to me." His gaze locked onto yours, serious and unyielding. "I’ll do it. I’ll take care of you. But you need to understand—"

He exhaled sharply, fists clenching at his sides.

"I’m not doing this just to get you through your heat."

His voice was softer now, rougher—tinged with something real.

"I have feelings for you," he admitted. "I want you. Not just because of this. But because it’s you."

Silence hung between you, thick and heavy.

Then—

"Do you understand?”

Namjoon barely had time to react.

One second, she was sitting there, eyes wide and dazed.

The next—

"Oh, fuck that—"

You lunged.

Straight for his belt.

Namjoon caught your wrists just in time.

"Whoa—!" He gritted his teeth, barely managing to hold you back. "Answer first."

"Joonie, please—" you whined, struggling against his grip. "It hurts—"

His jaw tightened.

Fuck.

You were desperate. Burning up.

And all he wanted to do was give in.

But not like this.

Not without your words.

"Say it." His voice was low, rough—his patience hanging by a thread. "Tell me you understand.”

Your breath was ragged, your body trembling. But this time, it wasn’t just because of your heat.

"I understand," you whispered. "And I feel the same way."

Namjoon’s grip on your wrists loosened.

"I’m not just saying this because I’m—" you exhaled sharply, biting your lip. "—because I’m horny beyond saving."

A muscle in Namjoon’s jaw ticked.

"I’ve felt this way for months," you admitted, voice dropping to a whisper. "Ever since you—"

You swallowed hard.

"Ever since you dry-humped me in your sleep."

Namjoon froze.

His brain short-circuited.

"It took everything in me not to ride you stupid," you continued, eyes blown wide with lust and something deeper. "And now I can’t take it anymore—"

You yanked her hands free and lunged again.

This time, Namjoon let you.

Because his instincts?

They snapped.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt, desperate and shaking.

"Come on— Fuck—stupid thing—"

Namjoon exhaled through his nose, watching as you struggled. Your whining only made it worse, your heat-drunk frustration making his instincts snarl.

When you finally got it undone, you yanked his pants down in one go.

He barely had time to step out of them before you were reaching for his boxers.

He shed his flannel and shirt, tossing them aside.

And that’s when you froze.

Your breath hitched.

"Oh..."

Namjoon clenched his jaw, fighting every instinct screaming at him to grab you, flip you over, and—

You pulled his boxers down.

And your mouth dropped open.

You practically drooled.

"Holy shit."

You barely had time to blink before Namjoon moved.

A startled whine left your lips as he pushed you back onto the bed.

"Joon—!"

Your protest died the second his mouth crashed against yours.

He kissed you deep—messy, desperate, sucking on your lips and tongue like he was starving.

You whimpered into his mouth, arching into him as his hands tore at your clothes.

Fuck, this was so much better than he had ever imagined.

Namjoon barely had a second to breathe.

He pulled back, panting, about to say something—

And then you moved.

Before he could react, your mouth was on him.

"Fuck—" His entire body jerked.

You were a menace.

And you were perfect.

Your body, your sounds—everything about you made his instincts snarl.

His hands trembled as he buried them in your hair, hips twitching at the feeling of your hot, wet mouth—

This was so much better than his imagination.

And he never wanted it to stop.

Your mouth stretched wide, barely able to take half of him.

The rest you palmed with both hands, fingers stroking up and down his thick length while your other hand squeezed his balls.

Namjoon groaned, head dropping back, his massive hands tightening in your hair.

"Fuck—" His voice was wrecked, deep and ragged.

But what really did him in?

The way you looked up at him.

Big, glossy eyes, lips stretched around his cock, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head—

He twitched in your mouth, barely restraining the urge to thrust deeper.

Namjoon let you have your way, let you suck him just how you wanted—until he couldn’t take it anymore.

With a deep growl, he tore you away, a strand of spit connecting your lips to his cock.

You whined, eyes dazed and needy.

"Joon—!"

"Baby," he panted, cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your wet lips. "This is your first time. Your first heat." His voice was wrecked, strained. "I really don’t wanna blow my load before I even get to fuck you."

You whimpered, squirming, but he shushed you gently.

"Spread those pretty legs for me," he murmured, eyes dark. "Let me stretch you out first."

His fingers traced down your trembling body.

"You’re so fucking tiny," he muttered, voice thick with desire. "I’m gonna have to be real thorough to make sure this cunt can take me."

And then, with a wicked smirk, he pushed you down and spread your open.

Oh, you threw a fit.

Because of course you did.

"Excuse you—!" You tried to sit up, indignant. "I was having fun, you big fucking—"

Smack.

A sharp gasp ripped from your throat as Namjoon's palm cracked against your ass, the impact sending a delicious sting through your body.

You froze.

Namjoon, towering over you, let out a low, dangerous rumble.

"Behave," he ordered, voice deep, dripping with authority.

Your mouth opened. Then closed.

You gulped.

Maybe... maybe you could let him have his way.

For now.

You pouted up at him, lower lip jutting out in protest. "Meanie," she mumbled, but still, you spread you legs for him.

Namjoon chuckled darkly, large hands gripping your thighs as he settled between them. "You’ll survive," he murmured, gaze locked onto the slick mess between your legs. "Now be good and let me take care of you."

And then—

You choked on a gasp when he pressed a single finger inside.

What the fuck.

"Joon—" your back arched, nails digging into the sheets. "Why the fuck are your fingers so big?!"

Namjoon only smirked, gripping your hip to hold you still as he worked his finger in deeper, watching the way your tiny hole stretched around it. "And you think you can take my cock just like that?" he teased.

Before you could snap back, he pulled you to the edge of the bed, got on his knees, and lowered his mouth to your soaked cunt.

You barely had time to react before his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard.

"Ah—!" You jerked, hands flying to his hair.

He licked, sucked, kissed you like he was savoring his favorite meal.

And then—

Another finger.

Your gasp turned into a whine, legs trembling as he slowly pushed it inside alongside the first.

"It hurts," you whimpered, hips twisting as you tried to adjust.

Namjoon growled against you, sending vibrations through your core. "Shh, baby," he soothed, lapping at your clit. "Let me make it better."

Namjoon was a menace.

He sucked you clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the swollen bud, then gently bit down, just enough to make you jolt.

"J-Joon!" You gasped, thighs trembling around his head.

He only hummed, sending another shudder through you.

Your poor clit—already abused from your own desperate attempts to get off before he came over—was throbbing, overstimulated, but he showed no mercy.

His fingers worked in tandem with his mouth, curling, scissoring you open as he stretched you out.

You were still so tight, sucking his fingers in with every push, every thrust.

"Shit, baby," he groaned, kissing your clit before looking up at you with lidded eyes. "Did you play with yourself the whole day?"

You flushed, trying to turn your face away, but he curled his fingers just right—

"Ah—!"

"You did, didn’t you?" he murmured, smirking against your thigh. "Poor thing. Still wasn’t enough, huh?"

You mustered up whatever bratty energy you had left and threw a weak, "Fuck you," his way, breathless and trembling.

Namjoon chuckled—a deep, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine—before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

"Wrong," he murmured against your skin, licking over the fresh bite mark possessively. "It’s me who’s about to fuck you."

You whimpered.

And he grinned.

Namjoon was merciless.

His fingers pressed against that devastating spot inside you, curling, rubbing, pushing just right as his tongue tormented your clit. His pace never faltered, never slowed, dragging you higher and higher until—

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—!"

Your back arched off the bed, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashed through you.

It was soul-crushing.

It left you shaking, thighs trembling around his head as wave after wave of pleasure wracked your body.

Namjoon growled against you, pinning your hips down as he dragged out every last aftershock, licking you through it, savoring the way she twitched beneath him.

When you finally slumped against the bed, boneless and panting, he grinned.

"Good girl," he purred, lips brushing against your inner thigh. "Now, let’s see how many more you can give me before I fuck you open."

Namjoon wasn’t satisfied with just one.

He added another finger, stretching you out further, making you whimper at the burn.

"Shh, baby," he cooed, kissing the inside of your thigh as he slowly thrust them in and out. "You’re taking me so well."

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling, scissoring, fucking you open as his tongue never left your clit.

The second orgasm hit faster than you expected—your breath hitched, your back arched, and you cried out, body shaking as pleasure wracked you.

"That’s it," Namjoon groaned, voice thick with arousal, watching the way you clenched around his fingers. "Give me another."

And you did.

By the third orgasm, you were a mess, tears pricking at your eyes as you gasped and whined, your body overwhelmed but still desperate for more.

Only then—after you were a twitching, overstimulated wreck beneath him—did Namjoon finally consider fucking you.

He smirked, kissing your inner thigh one last time before murmuring, "Think you’re ready for my cock now, baby?"

Namjoon kissed you deeply, swallowing your soft whimpers as he sucked on your tongue, making her melt beneath him.

His lips trailed down, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. He focused on every little spot that made you shiver, nipping, licking, savoring the way your breath hitched.

All the while, his fingers never stopped—still scissoring you open, still stretching your tiny, tight cunt, making sure you were as ready as you could be.

"You’re so fucking small," he murmured against your throat, voice husky with need. "Gotta make sure you can take me, baby."

You whimpered, clutching at his shoulders, aching to finally feel his cock inside you.

Namjoon groaned at your desperation but took his time, gently pushing you back onto the bed, adjusting you until you were comfortable.

Then, with a tenderness that almost contradicted the heat in his eyes, he grabbed a pillow and slid it beneath your hips.

"Gotta get the angle just right," he rasped, running his hands up your thighs as he settled between them. "Don’t want you hurting, sweetheart."

He pressed a kiss to your knee, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

"You ready for me?"

Namjoon groaned as he pressed your thighs to your chest, spreading you open completely beneath him.

"So tiny," he murmured, voice thick with awe and restraint as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Gotta go slow, baby. Gotta stretch you open real nice for me."

He started by rubbing your clit with his tip, letting it glide against your sensitive bundle of nerves. The soft, teasing friction had you squirming, thighs trembling as you whined beneath him.

"Shh, just relax," he soothed, replacing his cock with his fingers, circling your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. "Let me in, sweetheart."

And then, he pushed.

"Fuck—" you gasped, eyes widening as the head of his cock finally slipped inside.

Namjoon gritted his teeth, groaning low as your walls clenched around him.

"Shit—so fucking tight," he ground out, barely able to move. "Baby, you gotta—fuck—loosen up for me, okay?"

You tried. You really did. But it wasn’t just the length—it was the thickness that had your brain spinning.

Namjoon exhaled sharply, sensing her struggle. He paused halfway, his breath shaky as he reached down and resumed rubbing your clit, slow and careful.

"You're doing so good," he murmured, pressing gentle kisses to your ankle, your knee. "Breathe, baby. Relax for me."

You whimpered, eyes fluttering as his fingers worked you over, coaxing your body to ease up.

And when you finally did—when you gasped and you walls fluttered, relaxing just enough—Namjoon took advantage.

"Good girl," he groaned, slowly sinking the rest of the way in.

Bottoming out in one, deep thrust.

Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep, measured breaths as he stayed completely still inside you.

Fuck.

You were so tight, so unbelievably warm around him, clenching down like you were trying to keep him locked inside you forever. If he moved—if he so much as twitched—he might embarrass himself and blow his load way too soon.

So he focused.

Okay, Namjoon. Think of something else. Think of anything else.

One bear paw. Two bear paws. Three—

Fuck, she’s so tiny.

Four bear paws. Five bear—

Shit, the way she’s squeezing me—

Six bear paws. Seven—

“Joonie…” you whimpered, shifting slightly beneath him.

His jaw clenched.

“Baby, don’t—” he warned, voice strained.

You blinked up at him, dazed and needy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as you squirmed.

“Feels so good…” you mumbled, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

Namjoon choked. His arms trembled as he barely held himself together.

Eight bear paws. Nine—

Your walls fluttered around him, and he felt it.

FUCK.

He dropped his head to your shoulder, panting heavily as he groaned, voice muffled against your skin.

“Baby,” he rasped, “you gotta—give me a second—”

You giggled breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in deeper.

Namjoon whimpered.

Whimpered.

Like a bitch.

Your giggle was downright wicked. Even in the throes of pleasure, you were still a menace.

Namjoon’s entire body tensed when you clenched around him on purpose, her tiny hands dragging down his back, teasing him, taunting him. He could feel the way you were testing him, pushing him to his limits.

“Joonie,” you whispered in his ear, your breath warm and teasing. “Are you… whimpering?”

He growled.

A low, deep, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against your skin.

Your laughter immediately cut off.

Namjoon lifted his head slowly, eyes dark and filled with something feral. You swallowed hard, realizing maybe—just maybe—you had pushed him a little too far.

“Baby,” he said, voice thick with restraint. “Do you want to walk tomorrow?”

Your ears twitched, and you suddenly remembered that oh yeah, you were currently impaled on a massive bear hybrid’s cock, and antagonizing him might not be the smartest decision.

But then again…

You grinned.

“I mean… do I really need to?”

Namjoon lost his last shred of self-control.

His hips snapped forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs as he buried himself deeper than you thought was even possible.

Your laugh morphed into a strangled moan.

“J-Joon—oh fuck—!”

He pulled back slowly, deliberately, before thrusting into you again, his thick cock stretching your walls to the limit. You screamed, fingers scrambling for purchase on his broad shoulders.

“T-Take it back—!” you gasped, eyes wide, already overwhelmed. “I take it back—!”

Namjoon chuckled darkly, leaning down to kiss your neck, sharp teeth grazing her sensitive skin.

“Too late, baby,” he murmured. “You asked for this.”

And with that, he fucked you.

Namjoon fucked you stupid.

He pulled out almost all the way, just leaving the tip in before slamming back inside, his thick cock stretching you open over and over again. Your walls clenched around him so tightly, so hot and wet that it made him see stars. His grip on your thighs tightened, nails digging into your soft skin as he fucked you into the mattress.

His cock hit your g-spot every time, his thick tip pressing against your womb with every deep thrust.

You we're gone.

Eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open as breathless moans and little whimpers spilled from your lips.

Namjoon grinned, breathless and wrecked, leaning down to take a stiff, sensitive nipple into his mouth.

The tits he had so carefully analyzed just days ago? Yeah. He was all over them now—sucking, licking, teasing with his tongue before switching to the other, his free hand kneading the soft flesh like he was trying to memorize it.

Between sucks, he grinned against your skin and murmured, “Not so mouthy now, huh?”

You whimpered, legs trembling around him.

Namjoon chuckled darkly. “What happened to all that attitude?”

His thrusts quickened, hips snapping against yours, the wet, obscene sounds of their bodies meeting echoing through the room.

You tried to respond—maybe to sass him back—but all that came out was a pathetic little moan.

Namjoon groaned, feeling primal at the sight of you beneath him, completely wrecked.

“Aw, is my filthy little girl too dumb to talk now?” he taunted, sucking another mark into her skin. “Too stupid to tease me anymore?”

You whimpered, back arching, nails scratching down his back.

Namjoon grinned wickedly.

“You must be real dumb to tease a bear hybrid when you’re this tiny,” he murmured, thrusting deep and holding it, making you squirm. “Did you forget what I could do to you?”

You clenched around him so tight he nearly choked.

Namjoon growled.

Oh.

You liked that.

His instincts snapped.

He pinned you down, laced your fingers together, and fucked you senseless.

You were in actual heaven.

This was everything you had dreamed about, everything you had fantasized about late at night with your hand between your legs. But this? This was so much better.

Namjoon’s sheer size overwhelmed you, his massive frame towering over you, caging you in, making you feel so small beneath him. His thick arms flexed as he held himself up, his weight pressing you deliciously into the mattress, your fingers laced together above your head.

His cock stretched you open, filling you so perfectly that you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—just feel.

Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his pace brutal, his thrusts deep and overwhelming.

“You’re so small,” he gritted out, staring down at where they were joined, mesmerized by the way you struggled to take him. His cock was glistening with your slick, and the sight alone nearly made him lose his mind. “How the fuck are you even taking me?”

You moaned, tightening your fingers around his. “I—I don’t know,” she gasped. “But don’t stop—don’t stop—”

Namjoon growled, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you harder, hips slamming against yours, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the air.

“Don’t plan on it,” he murmured against your throat, nipping at your pulse. “Not until I make sure this tiny cunt is properly bred.”

Your brain short-circuited.

B—Bred?!

You clenched around him so violently that he choked, thrusting deep, his breath stuttering.

Namjoon groaned, pulling back to look at your flushed, fucked-out face.

“Oh,” he purred, grinning. “You liked that.”

Namjoon chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with amusement as he thrust deep and stayed there, grinding his hips against yours.

“Does my pretty little darling girl have a breeding kink?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, teasing.

You let out a pathetic little whimper, your hands clawing at his back. “Shut up,” you gasped, but your body betrayed you—clenching down around him like you desperately wanted him to fill her up.

He smirked, kissing you softly—too soft for how brutal his thrusts had been, the contrast making you dizzy. “Oh, you do, don’t you?” he purred against your lips. “You want me to breed this tiny cunt of yours, huh? Fill you up nice and full?”

You whined, trying to move, but Namjoon wasn’t having it.

“Uh-uh,” he growled, pulling you up against his chest, his thick arms caging you in. He wanted to see you. Wanted to watch your face as he wrecked you.

He knew you were close. He could feel it.

And fuck—so was he.

Your constant clenching had him rutting into you like a feral beast, barely holding himself back.

“You bounce on my cock so perfectly, baby,” he groaned, guiding your hips. “Come on, cum for me—milk my cock like a good girl.”

And you did—so perfectly.

Your body tensed, then trembled as you came, your walls squeezing him like a vice, pulsing around his cock. You were so tight, so warm, and fuck—he could feel every little flutter, every little tremor as you moaned his name, you voice breaking into little gasps and whimpers.

Namjoon cursed, his grip tightening on your hips as he chased his own high, rutting into you like a man possessed. “Fuck, baby—just like that,” he growled, his voice wrecked, his restraint snapping.

His thrusts became sloppy, desperate, his cock twitching inside you. He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in, his instincts screaming at him to fill you up.

And then—he did.

Namjoon groaned, long and deep, as he came inside you, spilling himself into you with shuddering, wrecked thrusts. His cock throbbed with every pulse of his release, and he made sure—fuck, he made sure you took all of it, staying deep, pressing his hips flush against you.

For a moment, all that could be heard was y'all heavy breathing, your soft little whimpers as you trembled in his hold, completely wrecked.

Namjoon chuckled breathlessly, pressing a lazy kiss against your temple. “Told you I’d stretch you out, baby.”

Namjoon slowly pulled out, groaning at the way your walls clung to him, reluctant to let him go. And fuck—that was the prettiest creampie he had ever seen.

His cum dripped from your swollen, twitching hole, glistening as it leaked onto the sheets. And the best part? You were gaping, your tiny cunt stretched open, still pulsing around nothing, as if begging for more.

Namjoon groaned, his cock twitching at the sight. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured, running his fingers along her inner thigh, watching as his release slowly dripped out of you. He was mesmerized, transfixed, and so fucking tempted to stuff it back in—

You whined, shifting slightly, and Namjoon immediately snapped out of it. He chuckled, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You blinked up at him, dazed, cheeks flushed, lips parted. And then—you smirked, albeit weakly.

“Dunno,” you mumbled. “Kinda feel like I just got rearranged.”

Namjoon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he reached for the nearby towel. “You did just get rearranged.”

You giggled, wincing slightly when you tried to move. Namjoon gently shushed you, cleaning you up with soft, careful touches. His eyes softened as he watched you, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face.

“Rest, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

And you did—without a single complaint—because, really, after getting fucked that good, what else could you do?

Namjoon chuckled as you climbed onto him, your tiny body latching on like a determined little koala. He barely had time to settle against the pillows before you were smooshing her face right into his chest—burying yourself in his tiddies like they were your personal pillows.

He huffed, amused. “Comfortable?”

You let out a pleased little hum, rubbing your cheek against his warm skin. “Mhm. Very.”

Namjoon shook his head, wrapping his arms around you, his large hands rubbing up and down your back. You were so small compared to him, his shirt swallowing you whole. It was kind of adorable—annoyingly so.

“Feeling better?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded, sighing contentedly. “Mhm. You’re warm.”

Namjoon smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. Then, after a beat, “And your tiddies are great.”

He groaned, head thudding against the headboard. “Oh my god.”

You giggled against his chest, the sound so smug it made his ears burn. But he didn’t push you away. If anything, he held you closer, letting you cuddle up as much as you wanted—because, well...

You were his now.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

Namjoon felt his heart clench as you looked up at him with those big, expectant eyes, your lips brushing against his chest in the softest, sweetest kiss.

“I’m really happy you feel the same way, Joonie,” you murmured, your voice smaller than usual. “I was... worried you didn’t. That’s why I ignored you for two days.”

His brows furrowed, a pang of guilt hitting him square in the chest. “You—what?”

You pouted, rubbing slow circles over his pec absentmindedly. “I didn’t know if you liked me back. And if you didn’t, I was gonna have to move on, y’know?”

Namjoon stared at you, utterly baffled. “Are you serious? You thought I didn’t like you?”

You blinked up at him. “Well… yeah?”

He exhaled sharply, pressing a hand over his face. “Baby, I’ve been down bad for you.”

Your ears perked up. “Wait—really?”

“Yes, really!” He groaned, sliding his hand down to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I literally lost my mind over you. I was suffering.”

You gasped, scandalized. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Namjoon gave you a flat look. “Says you, the one who ignored me for two days instead of talking to me.”

You opened your mouth to argue—then promptly shut it, realizing he had a point.

“…Fair,” you mumbled, sheepishly nuzzling back into his chest.

Namjoon sighed, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re a menace,” he muttered.

You grinned against his skin. “But I’m your menace now.”

He chuckled, hugging you tighter. “Yeah… you are.”

Namjoon nearly choked on air when you poked his chest, looking up at him with that mischievous glint in your eyes.

“So… when can we do it again?”

His face heated instantly. “What?”

You grinned, propping your chin on his chest. “I mean, I’m all stretched out now. I think I can finally ride you properly.”

Namjoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “honey, give me five minutes to recover before you start planning round two.”

But you were relentless.

“Oh, oh! Or you could, like, manhandle me,” you continued excitedly, completely ignoring his suffering. “Maybe a full nelson or doggy—oh, you have to mount me at least once before my heat’s over!”

Namjoon felt his dick twitch, and he swore he saw his life flash before his eyes.

“And,” you added, dragging a finger down his chest, “you should let me actually suck you off properly this time. Y’know, since you were being a big ol’ meanie and stopped me.”

Namjoon exhaled sharply through his nose. “I stopped you because I was two seconds away from busting before we even started.”

You snickered. “So now you can last, right?”

Namjoon groaned. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggled, looking entirely too pleased with yourself—then tilted your head, suddenly thoughtful. “Oh! Wait—does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”

Namjoon blinked. “I—”

You gasped dramatically. “Namjoon! Are you telling me you knotted me but you won’t date me?”

His jaw dropped. “I DIDN’T KNOT YOU—”

“Oh my God, you used me for sex—”

Namjoon grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together to stop your nonsense. “I’m your boyfriend, you menace,” he grumbled.

You hummed happily, looking way too smug despite your squished cheeks. “Good. Now let’s talk about the full nelson.”

Namjoon let out the most suffering sigh.

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 06.

saturday

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: mentions of IKEA, awkwardness, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~2.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should ꕥ a/n: hi guys! thank you so much for reading my work. i just wanted to apologise for the shorter chapter and that it took longer to update than usual. i was planning to post this originally around valentine's day but university started and things got a tiny bit busy. [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

Pouring salt and lemon juice on an open wound would’ve felt like a walk in the park compared to asking for any kind of help or favour. You always handled everything independently and on your own way. You were ready to drop everything on the spot and lend a hand to those who asked but always made sure to deal with your problems by yourself. Among other things, this aspect of yours was a mixture of stubbornness and pride.

So, imagine how embarrassed you felt on that sunny Saturday morning, with your phone pressed to your ears as you anxiously waited for your call to be answered. It’s so dumb, they just got back from the case yesterday. I should hang…

“Hey pretty girl, what’s up?” Derek’s usual playful tone cut through your thoughts, stopping you from pressing the little red icon. You were relieved that you weren’t the one to wake him or at least judging by the lack of raspiness in his tone, he was already up.

“Are you perhaps… free today?” you asked as you quickly paced back and forth in your unusually empty bedroom. One of your cats, who was still very much a kitten, energetically chased after your feet, causing you to come across even less collected, since you had to look out for the little furball too if you didn’t want to accidentally step on him.

“For a woman like you, I’m always free.” Hummed the man at the other end of the line, immediately easing your nerves a bit. You rolled your eyes and let a playful smile spread across your face, which was wiped off just as quickly.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake Nick...!” before you could’ve said anything else, like probably an explanation for why you were calling your colleague, a low scream escaped your lips. “Sorry, my cat is just devil’s incarnate, and he decided it’d be fun to claw his way up on my bare legs.”

“For a moment I got scared that it wasn’t really me you were looking for.”

“Impossible, you know you’re always on my mind, handsome.”

You learned quite early on that Derek’s flirty demeanour was part of his personality and it was never serious when it came to the team. Even in amongst you, he knew that not everyone was open to suggestive comments or playful dirty talk. He made sure to never make anyone feel uncomfortable. Luckily, you were completely okay with this and even became a ‘partner in crime’.

“Okay, out with it. Why did you call?”

“Ah, I need a favour. I know you guys just came home yesterday and it’s totally okay if you say no…”

“Babygirl, I don’t even know what to say no to.”

“Yeah right, sorry. I need to buy a new bed because my last one was older than me and a few weeks ago it decided to end its life, which I can understand. So, I’ve been sleeping on the sofa. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call it sleeping. And I know that I am even funnier when I’m sleep deprived but now that I’ll soon be back in action, it’d be nice to be well rested, you know. And yes, I could just walk into an IKEA, choose a bed and ask for a delivery, but…” You were definitely rambling and overexplaining yourself, as you did whenever you got flustered or felt awkward. Just like when you gave Reid a gift, you still haven’t recovered from that. The others quickly got used to this, given that they already had a yapper in their company. However, it didn’t mean you weren’t self-conscious if you noticed what you were doing.

“Let me stop you right there. You need help with taking home and putting together a bed, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be there in an hour, but I’m bringing help. These muscles can do a hella lot of things but getting a whole bed to the 7th floor is different.”

“Of course. Thank you, Derek.”

After the call ended, you stood in one place in the middle of your room, trying to calm yourself down, contemplating your life. Asking for a favour shouldn’t make you feel like you’re being hunted for sport. But it did, especially since it included one of your co-workers.

Originally, you planned on getting this done with your brothers, but both were out of the country for two more weeks. You’ve read so many past case files where it later turned out that the UnSubs were previously in one of the BAU member’s homes as maintenance workers or something similar that it made you a tiny bit paranoid. This is one of the reasons why you preferred to fix everything you could by yourself. It was to avoid letting unknown people into your flat. You weren’t that worried about Morgan’s unfamiliar friend though, given that you completely trusted the profiler.

Well, colour you surprised when an hour later as you hopped into the backseat of the black Range Rover Autobiography, you were met with passenger princess Spencer Reid.

“Oh… Hi.” your voice got awkwardly high-pitched. You avoided looking at him both directly and through the rear-view mirror. You weren’t quite prepared for this scenario. It was bad enough that the anxiety caused by being afraid of becoming a nuisance for Derek filled your entire body, now Dr Asshole was there too. And you appreciated the help, you really did. But now this also meant that the man with whom you had an indefinable relationship will enter your home. The home, which was so obviously, undeniably you. It was almost like a piece of your bare soul on display both in a good and bad way.

“Hi.”

“So, IKEA?” clarified Derek before things could’ve gotten even more uncomfortable.

“Yes. I already chose which one I’d like so I won’t be taking up much of your time, promise,” you said and as proof, you held up your phone, with the website open and the specific furniture on the screen.

“Oh, Tonstad was mentioned in a travel brochure I’ve read a few years ago when I was looking for places to visit.” After Spencer took a glance at your phone, his eyes almost literally lit up. He enthusiastically explained what the name of the chosen bedframe and mattress meant. His hands were just as expressive as his mouth. It was sweet, how he probably wasn’t aware the constant movement of his fingers. “It’s a little Norwegian village and was the administrative centre of the old municipality of Tonstad from 1905 until its dissolution in 1960. In 1960, it became the part of Sirdal, and it continued to be the administrative centre there.”

Weirdly, his slightly rambling, lengthy explanation somewhat put you at ease. It was one of those rare moments when his facts weren’t undermining your professional ideas and theories. These facts were simply just facts, it was interesting listening to them, and he was able to keep your attention so much so, that you didn’t even notice how curiously you stared at him.

However, he did. Since you had no reason to use contact lenses on an early Saturday when you weren’t working, those damned glasses were on you again. The sight basically magnetized his gaze to your face through the rear-view mirror, automatically triggering the memory of his weird dream about you from a few weeks before.

For a quick, passing moment he became annoyed. The genius didn’t quite understand why a simple object, invented around the 13th century—with its precursors dated back to the Eastern Han Dynasty in China—had such an effect on him. Spectacles have been around for a few hundred years now, it was quite literally a basic, everyday necessity for almost half the population. At times even he himself had to wear it. So then, why in the hells did you have this weird, unexplainable effect on him? It wasn’t fair, how you were able to cause a ruckus in his extraordinary brain without even trying.

Much to his dismay, he was very well aware how you looked at him from behind. The way the Sun shined on your irises captivated him. All your attention was his. And he had to come to the unfortunate conclusion that he very much liked this.

×××

“Is it okay if I let out my cats now?” you asked the men in your bedroom that got cluttered and chaotic rather quickly. They were in the midst of putting your bed together, however, it didn’t go as smoothly as they planned. Derek wanted to use a simple thing, called common sense, and build the bedframe how it seemed right while Reid insisted on strictly following the manual which he already read and memorised word for word. On top of that, they didn’t let you help them, not even a tiny bit. The one thing that both agreed on was that you’re not going to do anything physically exhausting while you still have a healing wound on your side.

“You have cats?” asked the doctor and he even turned his precious attention from the wooden parts to you.

“No Reid, I just prefer to eat and drink from a bowl on the ground.” the sarcastic reaction came out before you could even register it and, in a way, you almost immediately felt guilty about it. He was there to help you. There was no need for hostility. But you were very much on edge, more than usually, since this was the first time they were in your home. You were aware of the fact that just by looking at the environment you created as a home, he was able to profile the shit out of you, and you didn’t like this at all.

You had various kinds of potted plants everywhere—all safe for your pets—, even on top of stacked books that were scattered around the living room. Your dish rack was filled with colourful mugs, plates and bowls, most of them had different patterns and shapes. You bought the majority of those from artisans who set up stands at different fairs. All of them were unique but the colour scheme matched nicely, making your kitchenware organised and fun at the same time. Some were made to look like a blooming flower, some had animal or geek features on them. Penelope was over the moon when she first saw it, so much so that it wouldn’t have surprised you if she sneaked a few out of your place at the end of the occasional get-togethers.

The bookshelf at the wall between your kitchen and living room immediately caught Reid’s attention, but assembling your furniture was the main priority, so he forced himself not to pay much attention to it. Secretly though, he hoped he could take a closer look at what you read and by what system you organised your books, just so he could possibly get to know you more without having to engage in your usual bickering.

Before the doctor could’ve answered your last sentence, you took a swift turn and left your bedroom. A few minutes later the sound of long, drawn-out meows filled the small flat.

“Yeaaah, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” you answered to your pets in a high-pitched tone. The first one to run out of the bathroom was an adult, slightly chubby black cat with deep, amber eyes. You found her and her brother—the sweetest little calico, who was still chilling in the cold sink, even though you opened the door for him to leave—on a hot summer’s night, during a storm that was one of the worsts you’ve ever seen or experienced a little more than two years ago. The kitten named Nick, is an entirely different story. You found him in a dumpster, near your apartment, squaring it up with a raccoon. He hasn’t calmed down ever since. “But I locked you up for your own sakes. And it was only for half an hour.” To this, another long meow was your answer, to which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They were dramatic, for sure.

“Should I consider my win on the last case as a result of you, not having a bed?” Reid’s voice almost made you jump; it was so sudden. He was leaning to the doorframe, curious eyes diligently taking in every single tiny detail of you and your surroundings. You were in the process of taking the sweetest little prince out of the sink. The long-haired calico was rather scaredy and hated unfamiliar people but was a total lovebug for those whom he knew. Unfortunately, the tall profiler wasn’t amongst these persons, so the cat’s instincts took over and, in a blink, he clawed his way out of your warm embrace to hide behind the washing machine.

“Shit! Daisy…” you yelped as you became more and more aware of the tingling, hot pain that spread across your upper and lower arms.

“Ah, I… Khm. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I knew he is afraid of strangers, I should’ve left him alone, but I felt guilty about locking them up for the time you got the bed to my room.” you explained the situation while you started to clean the shallow injuries with some warm water. There were only a few scratches, luckily, but they burned like hell. “The other two will be okay, though. Jordan usually sits on top of the cat tree and judges everyone while Nick brings doom and destruction to all things in existence.”

It didn’t require much brain power to put two and two together, Spencer almost immediately recognised the connection between the names of your cats, however, he didn’t mention a thing. He wasn’t sure how you’d react, and he didn’t want to start a fight. Up until now you’ve only met each other outside of work when the team went out for drinks and even then, you tended to avoid interacting with him. So, instead he silently reached for the soft, salmon-coloured towel and handed it to you, his watchful gaze never leaving your figure.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i hope it isn't a problem that this fic is getting longer, i'm just taking slow burn seriously (only thing i can do lmao) taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[silverbrain]

Play Me Like a Love Song

Summary- Jealous Xavier makes mc play the piano while he.. yeah, that piano card gave me some ideas.

NSFW, Minors Do Not Interact

Xavier had been teaching you the piano for quite some times now. Ever since he had held that breathtaking performance for you, you had asked him to play for you. Xavier accepted, a little shy at first, but soon warming up when he saw how your eyes lit up watching him enjoy his hobby.

Soon, you had joined in. Xavier sat beside you patiently, watching you as you focused on the finger movements. He didn’t realize his hawk eyes were only making you more nervous, but eventually you had got used to it and had become quite good.

It’s another day when you’re practicing the piano in his apartment. Xavier was probably lazing around somewhere, usually on the couch in the living room. He had quickly gone from teacher mode to appreciator when you had found your bearings around a few songs. You didn’t notice him creep up behind you, footsteps as quiet as a cat.

He stands, watching you for a few moments, eyes roaming up and down your body as your deftly play, an admiring look on his face. Finally, he moves closer, resting a hand on your shoulder.

You jolt. “Xavier! You scared me?”

He chuckles. “What happened to your Hunter senses?”

“Didn’t realize I was prey here”, you scoff, before turning back to continue where you had left off.

He quietly takes a seat beside you, watching your fingers fly over the keys. You raise an eyebrow. It’s been days since he’s observed you like this, and it’s making you nervous.

You press a wrong key, and make a series of mistakes, the serene piece sounding awkward.

Xavier simply looks at you. “Go on. Pretend I’m not here”

You turn your gaze back to the keys, determined to get it right. There was no need to get nervous.

You start again, a little behind, from a part you knew well. Your brow furrows a little as you breeze past the mess up, continuing to a slower, easier part.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Xavier relax. You also see him move closer, impossibly close, and before you know it, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning in.

“Do you want me to mess up?”, you joke.

“Am I that distracting?”, he asks, big blue eyes staring into your soul innocently.

You continue to play, arms occasionally brushing his chest as he leans his body weight on you. He brushes his cheek against your neck and you steel yourself. He was certainly not as innocent as he was pretending to be.

Xavier hums, a low sound of satisfaction escaping his lips as he pulls you tighter against him.

The song comes to an end and you relax, leaning into his embrace. “Go on, play some more”, he says casually, as if he wasn’t clinging to you like a koala. “I don’t want to distract you”

You sigh, but continue. You weren’t sure what kind of games he was playing, and you weren’t sure how to ask. You straighten yourself as you play the beginnings of the next song.

“Why do you keep moving away? You know what you’re doing to me”, he complains, voice half muffled from where he’s pressing his face into your shoulder.

“I’m not doing anything!”, you protest.

“You’re ignoring me too…”, he sulks.

“I’m not ignoring you. I just want to show you what I’ve been working on”, you say, “Didn’t you want to listen”

His nose nuzzles against your neck, his voice low “I’m listening”. His voice makes a shiver run down your spine.

A few moments pass, filled with the lilting melodies of a lovely song. “You play so well, darling”, he whispers, still against your neck.

“Not as well as you”, you admit. He smiles, your words making his ego swell. “Mm that’s right. No one can ever compare to me. I’m the best…”

So, that was what it was about?

It wasn’t even a noteworthy issue in your mind. Xavier had a few complicated missions that he was supposed to be handling alone, and as a result, the association had assigned you a temporary new partner. It didn’t help that Max was the type to talk up a storm. Within the first mission, he had managed to ask you all about how you had become a hunter, and how you were lucky enough to have Xavier as your partner and your partner, also be your neighbour, and why you preferred the stars to the ocean.

Xavier had caught the tail end of an innocent interaction, when he had been heading to the Chief that morning. Max was clocking out, but he hadn’t forgotten to bring you your daily cup of hot chocolate. “Thanks Max, you’re the best!”, you had cheered. It didn’t help that Xavier was jealous of his own shadow. He had let it simmer.

The realization floods you, and you nearly stop playing to turn your attention to him, but his fingers press into your hips heavily. “Am I not?”, he asks.

“Yes”, you reply sternly, annoyance simmering in you mixed with a certain heat that his demeanour was bringing.

“Don’t stop then…”, he whispers. Oh, so it was a challenge.

You focus your attention on the keys once more, but your attention is long gone. Xavier’s hot breath now fans your neck shamelessly, and his hands move down your waist to toy at the hem of the skirt you’re wearing.

Your eyes dart to his. His gaze locks onto yours as his lips set in a smirk. You look away, still slightly annoyed.

It only seems to push him further, his hand snaking up your thigh. You clench your thighs involuntarily.

“Look at you…so distracted…”, he whispers huskily. You clench your teeth, willing not to give in. If Xavier was going to be stubborn, you weren’t going to be the one to back down.

“I want to hear you…”

“I…”, you begin. You falter at how foreign your own voice sounds to you, how affected, how high strung. “I don’t sing”

“Is that so…?”, Xavier asks, now shamelessly kissing your neck, “Haven’t I told you, darling? Every noise you make…”, he sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, “is music to me”

Your lips fall open at his words, but you swallow down the moan with sheer will.

Xavier stills his hand, gripping your thigh with his large palm, laying it flat. You can't help but feel the arousal pool at your center. You try to shift discreetly, but he only huffs a soft laugh.

You falter a note, a clang. You stop.

"Don't stop playing. I want to hear what I've taught you..."

His hand moves higher still, his fingertips dancing over your inner thighs, so close to where you want him to touch you.

A moan punches out of you before you can stop.

"Yes. That's what I wanted to hear. I want to hear you...give in.."

He suddenly stops, only to pull you onto his lap. You gasp, feeling the warmth of his chest behind you. He wraps one arm around your waist, holding you tight, while his other arm moves further up your thigh. "You belong...here", he hums.

You can't help it anymore. Your hips move of their own accord, grinding down into him. It is his turn to gasp. But Xavier is not one to give in easily. "So, you do agree?", he all but growls.

Need pulses through your veins as his hand reaches the hem of your underwear, his fingertips tracing the soft fabric. "Please...", you hear yourself say, the words leaving your mouth barely registering through the haze.

"You're begging huh?", he teases. "So, are you...admitting defeat?". His hand continues to trace small circles over your underwear.

You take a hand off the piano to grab onto his arm, the one circled around your waist securely. Behind you, Xavier takes a deep, ragged breath. He can't help but thrust his hips against you, the slight friction making his mind spin even though he's the one trying to teach you a lesson.

His deft fingers wrap around the straps, tugging your underwear down to your knees, before they fall the rest of the way around your ankles.

You bite your lip at the sight, a soft keen escaping.

Xavier pulls his hand away to grab your waist and hoist you off him. You stand helplessly, fingers scrabbling to move. "Xav-?"

You hear the sound of a zipper, but before you can turn around, Xavier is standing up and pulling you against him. You feel the hard length press against your ass, before he's lifting your skirt and parting your legs expertly. Xavier presses himself against your slick core. Teasing, still teasing.

You nearly whine, before he grabs your hips and thrusts in. White lines your vision at the sensation. You open your mouth, but before your brain can form words, he pulls you down again, seating you on top of him, filling you up.

"Xav– Xavier", you say his name helplessly.

"Hmm?", he asks. A thin layer of sweat lines his bangs.

"It's not–", you can barely finish your thought before he thrusts once, lazily. "Did I say you could stop playing?"

Your fingers scramble at the keys, considerably slowing, your brain barely able to think beyond the pleasure that's twisting inside you. You barely get through two notes before he lifts you by the waist, only to slam you down on himself. Your hands clutch at the keys desperately, a cacophony of sounds ringing through the room, music long forgotten.

"Oh dear", Xavier says, "is this what you've learnt?"

Your mouth opens, only releasing a heavy breath.

"I think you need more lessons", he growls, his voice catching at the end, unable to deny the effect everything is having on him. "I didn't–", you begin. He thrusts again and this time you whine audibly. "Still making excuses I see?", Xavier whispers.

"No", you gasp.

"No?", he echoes. Tears line your eyes as your vision swims. The wetness, the heat, the coil in your stomach feeling like it's going to make you lose it.

"Don't cry", Xavier says, noticing. His voice is a tad bit softer, and his thumb rubs at your hip apologetically.

Anger suddenly bubbles inside you. The audacity, you think to yourself. How could Xavier be jealous? Xavier, who you texted all day, Xavier who you called your 'partner' to everyone who so much as said hi. Who occupied your thoughts, your days, and your dreams. How dare he be jealous?

"He's GAY!", you yell.

Xavier is confused. "What?"

"You...", you can barely get the words out, but you're angry and you need him and you have to let him know. "Max...is literally gay. Not your...fucking competition", you manage.

Xavier stills for a bit, before leaning in to kiss your shoulder. You can sense the apology, but you're still feeling a bit annoyed. He's always been good with apologies, though, effortlessly shifting between bunny and wolf as and when needed.

Xavier brings one of his hands on your hip to your front, dipping his fingers into your folds. He rubs a long stripe down to where you're connected to him and you nearly see stars. His fingers don't stop their ministrations as he nibbles at your earlobe. "Sorry", you hear amidst the feeling of that coil curling deliciously inside you.

"Sorry, starlight", he whispers again, kissing your neck repeatedly.

"Will you forgive me?", he asks. "Please, my star?"

You can tell he's unravelling a little from the way he's babbling, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. Your eyes fall to your hands gripping the keys, white at the nails with how hard you're gripping them. You grind down against his hand, unable to contain yourself anymore.

"Xav– hah. I'm–"

"I've got you, baby", he says. You know he does. Bursts of stars erupt inside you as you orgasm, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head with how hard your muscles clench.

Xavier certainly feels it- your shaking thighs, your clenching core around him. He all but whines into your neck pitifully before he comes, filling you up with his warm spend. Xavier collapses onto the seat while collecting you in his arms, breathing heavily.  

You catch your breath against him for a minute, legs feeling like absolute jelly before he gingerly pulls out. He doesn't give you a second to think about anything, before lifting you up in his arms and carrying you to the bed, lying down beside you.

You stare at him for a second, his fluffy silver hair now sweaty and messy, sticking to his forehead, his pupils still blown wide. Xavier moves quickly. He gives your lips a quick kiss, and before you know it you find yourself smiling a little.

"What, scared I'm gonna be mad?”, you tease.

Xavier only pulls you closer by the waist, diverting his eyes shyly.

How he does it, is still beyond your understanding. Bunny to wolf. Wolf to bunny.

"It's okay", you whisper, rolling your eyes a bit. "I've missed you", you confess.

He kisses your cheek. He knows you did.

[ihavethedreamies]

Desert Dogs | Mingyu [NSFW]

Kim Mingyu - Seventeen

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronounces Used, Pet Names (Puppy), Size Kink, Dacryphilia, Degradation, BDSM elements, Breeding Kink (Kinda), Swearing, Spit, Breathplay, Oral (M! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-fucking, Rough, Spanking, Cockbulge (oops), Hard Dom! Mingyu, Unprotected Sex (Don't), Mingyu calls the reader some not nice things but it's a kink so she's okay with it

Author's Note: The plot of this didn't go exactly as I originally planned, but no one's here for plot anyway... This also doesn't have a ton of sci-fi elements, not like the others, but once again, not here for substance, just smut

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

“Ah!? Nonononono-“ You shriek when your rover lets out a loud clunk, followed by several more clangs, a rattle, then it starts to slow. You startle when the tire then blows, the entire back right of the vehicle nearly collapsing and you fall out of your seat, landing against the passenger door with an ‘oof’. You wait until the rover completely stops and even longer for it to stop making noise. When you realize the small creaks will continue, you manage to haul yourself up, reaching for your bag that got snagged on the pedal under the steering wheel.

“Fuck!” You fall back against the glass with a sharp hiss when the rover suddenly tips on its side, a puff of black smoke releasing from the front of the rover. You lay on the door of your rover, regretting your life decisions, wondering why the hell you thought it would be okay to go through an area that clearly had sand worms. Not only did it spit hot acid at the hull of your rover, the acid soaked into the sand had eaten through the thick rubber of the tires. The inside was getting hot fast, because obviously the air conditioning was off if the whole rover was. With a grunt, you get up and crawl up to the back of your rover to get your duffle bag and you throw the back door open, tossing your bags out, then crawl out and land on the sand with a grunt. You stand looking up at the sky for a good two or three minutes…it’s cloudy. Before you can even sigh at your bad luck, the sky roars with thunder and a downpour starts, the hot sky-water soaking through your thin clothes fast.

“You have GOT to be fucking kidding me!” You shout at the sky, and it replies with another loud crack of thunder right as lightning streaks across the sky. Looking around, you’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from even the nearest oasis, let alone a town. You decide it’s better to walk in the rain in the desert than when it was dry and sunny, but you also know the sand could quickly get dangerous, so you have to get to the road fast to avoid any quicksand. Hauling your bag up onto your back, the rain soaking into the burlap makes it even heavier as it soaks everything inside. Because of course, why would a bag meant for desert travel be waterproof? You manage to get back to the road without sinking down into the sandy pits of hell and you debate on whether you should head back to the town you were last in, or go the other direction and just hope you find somewhere. You would use your holo-tracker, but you had broken it a few days prior…Well you didn’t break it, you were savagely attacked by a sand mouse who wanted to steal your lunch and when it jumped at you again, you yeeted the device at it to scare it away and it smashed right into a rock.

You walk for nearly an hour before you see any signs of civilization and it’s only a sign telling you it was going to be another good 40 minutes before you got to anything. You and you’re things are soaked, and it doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon, but then - of course - it wouldn’t for another good three months… Adjusting your bag once again, you continue down the road, getting more and more tired. When you finally see something in the distance, you aren’t for sure what it is, maybe another rover? An oasis? No, it’s in the middle of road… You stop dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing, trying to make it out, not sure if your vision was blurry from exhaustion or the water dripping off your eyelashes. Before you can figure it out, thunder strikes again, and you see a flash of light before you black out.

~

When you wake up, you can still hear the rain, but it’s splattering onto a thatched roof as well as the sand. Grunting, you sit up, feeling very sore, most likely from your rover tipping over in protest of you trying to drive it. You were lying on a wicker cot, and you look around, trying to figure out where you were. You see an oasis out the archway entrance of the little hut you’re in, but there’s none of the tell-tale markers of an oasis outpost. Standing with a groan, you turn to look around, seeing you’re in a sunroom of sorts, another doorway covered with a curtain leading further in. Someone obviously found you, and you hope it’s a really hot guy rather than some sweet old lady-

“Oh, you’re awake.” Your rescuer had pulled the curtain back to stand in the doorway. Hot guy. Very hot guy. Hottest guy you’ve ever seen-

“U-uh…yeah.” You can’t help but gape at him. He was almost as tall as the doorway and built in the best possible way. His face is devastatingly handsome, but his slightly concerned face reminds you more of a puppy than anything.

“You’re lucky I came when I did, you just flopped down onto the road.” He comes over to you, looking over you to see if there was anything visibly wrong.

“Um…h-how long was I out?”

“About 32 hours.”

“WHAT?!” He smiles softly, trying to be reassuring.

“Well, I would imagine anyone who gets that close to getting struck by lightning would be out for a while.”

“I-I…I got struck by lightning?”

“No! No, you just got really, really close… I’m Mingyu.” He scrambles to pull the pendant on his necklace up out of his black tank top, showing an upside-down triangle that’s vaguely familiar.

“I’m a Ranger, I-I promise I don’t have any weird motives.” You honestly wouldn’t care if he did, because you’re starting to get some unsavory motives…

“Oh, uh, (Y/N). I’m a scavenger.” You didn’t know a lot about the Rangers past that they’re do-gooders and vigilantes who are known for helping those in need. It actually did make you feel better.

“What company?”

“I’m technically a freelancer; I work for the Assembly.”

“How did you get out in the middle of the desert like that?”

“My rover…fell apart.”

“Sand worms?”

“Yeah…” You sigh, realizing not only were you without your rover, but it was also your transportation for work. You do have insurance, but you doubt it could get you a whole new one, and paying the difference would clean out your savings.

“Where are you from?”

“Morgran Town.”

“I’m going past there when I leave in a few days, I can drop you off?”

“Really? I…You don’t mind me staying here till you can?”

“Not at all, I can’t leave anyway. Neither of us can.”

“Huh?”

“Apparently, it’s some kind of freak storm that only comes every 70 years or so. Planet-wide and as the rain keeps going, the sand gets dangerous, and it heats back up causing horrible lightning.”

“Great.”

“Well, come on in and eat, you must be hungry.” He smiles and you wonder how someone so hot can be so cute. You follow behind him, feeling absolutely tiny and when you get further into his hut, you realize it’s much bigger than you first thought. And it’s pretty homey. You sit down at the dining table in the room you first enter and your stomach growls as you catch the scent of what he made. You aren’t 100% sure what it is, some kind of rice dish with meat, egg and veggies, but at that point you’d eat just about anything. He huffs a small laugh as he watches you start to eat, clearly famished, and he sits down across from you to eat in a much more civilized manner.

“So why do you live out here by yourself?” You ask him around your food, not thinking he’ll mind your lack of manners. You know them, but using them is a different story.

“Technically I don’t. This is one of the several places us Rangers have spread out through the desert for any of us to use while we travel. We really only have on permanent base, but Hoshi has his own place. Jeonghan won’t let him keep his tiger inside.

“He has a tiger? You know what, I don’t wanna know. How may rangers are there?”

“Here on S.V.T there’s thirteen.”

“So what do you do?”

“I’m the mechanic, I fix things, and I also work with my partner to make machines and mechs and stuff.”

“Why aren’t you with your partner?”

“He’s on some bounty and he told me I’d just get in the way…” Mingyu pouts slightly and you can’t help but melt further, he really is so freaking cute despite being massive. A big ole’ puppy dog.

“I’m not sure I can pay you back…I need all the money I have to get a new rover.”

“I don’t need any money; it’s part of my duty to help.”

“Are you sure?” You low-key, high-key had hoped it would be the stereotypical erotica theme of ‘then pay with your body’ but no, he just had to be genuinely sweet.

~

Because he was so kind in cooking and letting you stay, you insist on doing the dishes and you would offer to clean the hut as well, but it was already immaculate. The sun is starting to set, and he lights some lanterns when, suddenly, the storm gets even worse, the thunder and lightning intensifying.

“We might have to go downstairs…” He mutters.

“Couldn’t that flood?”

“Normally, but it’s more of a bunker-“ A bright flash of lightning closely followed by a sharp crack of thunder cuts him off and the wind speeds up, whistling through the hut.

“Let’s go down.”

“Yeah, yes, yes please.” You grab your bags and follow him into the back hall, and he lifts a wooden panel from the floor and presses his hand against a reader of the sealed door and it hisses open, a metal staircase leading down. You follow him down and the automatic lights turn on as the door seals shut behind you and he leads you further in. The low ceiling of the tunnel forces him to lean forward slightly but you have no trouble, and once you get through another sealed door, the metal-walled bunker opens up into a very nice area. It resembles a studio-style apartment with only the bathroom being separate, and there is even a kitchen.

“We sometimes use this area to house people that need help, mostly slaves that have gotten away.”

“Ah…” You look around, seeing there is only one bed…and not even a couch.

“Um… I can sleep in the armchair.” You offer and he smiles, shaking his head.

“No need.” He goes over to the bed and taps a button with his foot, the bottom drawer sliding out with another mattress.

“Oh. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Mingyu~”

“You’re welcome.”

~

While the storm is muffled in the bunker, as it gets worse, you can start to hear it. You’re awoken when a loud clatter triggers some kind of alarm. He startles awake as well, stumbling out of bed to go to the terminal. You take the chance to ogle him, he must’ve shed his shirt after you had fallen asleep because he was just in his pants. You could only see his back, but you were nearly salivating already. The alarm finally stops, and he turns the lights on dimly, continuing to look over the terminal, then he sighs.

“What?”

“The hut is…gone.”

“Gone? How?”

“It’s…on fire. Kinda. The rain is putting it out, but I think the metal of the bunker attracted the lightning, so the hut go struck.”

“Oh.”

“We might be in here for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s food down here.” He smiles and you sigh in relief.

“Though…the extranet antenna was…on the roof.”

“So…?”

“No entertainment…Not the screen kind.”

“Hm…” You hum, looking around. It’s evident neither of you will get back to sleep, plus it’s only a few hours from morning anyway. You glance back at him, and he’s turned around; your jaw literally drops seeing him.

“Holy fuck…” You say, not quietly at all. He instantly blushes bright red, the tips of his ears the most red.

“S-sorry, I’ll put a shirt on-“

“No! God, no! You’re…fuck-“ You get up off the bed and go over to him. He takes the chance to look over you as well, you’d shed your clothes to sleep as well, just in a breast-band and shorts since all of your other clothes were still in your bag, probably still soaked. You get close enough you can hear him swallow hard, and his blush is starting to seep down over his collar bone. You notice his hand reach out, then he hesitates, then pulls back. You take a step closer, looking up at him. It’s then you notice very thin lines running all over his body, almost imperceptible.

“What are these?” You take the chance to touch him, running your index finger over the line, tracing the pattern over his chest. He lets out a shuddering breath, the muscle under your finger twitching a bit.

“Um…I have cybernetics.”

“You do?”

“Yeah…”

“What for?”

“They…make me stronger… and uh…”

“And what~?” You take another step closer, your single finger tracing becoming all of your fingers.

“Um…build my stamina…”

“So you can…just keep going~?” Your second hand joins and you step even closer, your warm breath on his skin from your proximity making his own hitch.

“I-I guess, yeah…” You take a final step, so your chest presses against his upper stomach, the size difference making your core heat up alone. He can’t help but gawk at just how small you look, and the look on your face-

“C-Can I?” He reaches for you again and you huff with a smirk.

“Please~” Mingyu swallows again and his hand comes up, gently cupping your jaw in his hand, nearly covering the whole half of his face. The softness of the gesture takes you back a bit, and while it’s sweet, you don’t want sweet. You want him to rail you into next week-

You gasp out of soft moan when his hand moves, going down to your neck, his thumb gently pressing against your windpipe and you see the soft, nervous look in his eyes harden into raw heat.

“You think you can handle me?” His voice lowers further, and you swallow hard at the sudden shift in his demeanor. Mingyu acted a bit nervous and shy before, but it’s also obvious he knows how sexy he is, the effect he has…

“You think your tiny cunt can handle my cock?” He presses closer to you, and you gasp, feeling his growing hard-on pressing against your stomach. Even without him being so much bigger, his cock was huge.

“I don’t care if it can’t-“ You’re cut off when he forces your head back with his hand under your chin, the slight pressure on your throat makes your head swim. You open your mouth a bit to get more air in, face going red, heart racing, cunt throbbing. You whimper when he spits down into your mouth and he smirks deviously as you eagerly swallow. You squeak when he shoves you down, your legs buckling till your kneeling, your face right in front of his hard cock straining against his pants. You watch with a dumb gawk on your face as his hands go to the fly of his pants and he shoves both them and his boxers off, his dick slapping against his stomach then bobs against your cheek and your eyes run over him, nearly salivating.

“O-oh…”

“Open.” His order brokers no argument and you eagerly do, tongue slightly out. His smirk grows and he grabs his cock at the base and places the angry head on your tongue. The taste of his skin makes your mouth water more and you whine as you suck the head into your mouth, your jaw slightly protesting. You swirl your tongue over the tip of his dick and your hands go to the floor to keep your balance. His strong fingers weave into your hair, tugging on it and you gag softly when he thrusts, his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly. You barely have the time to suck air in harshly through your nose before his girth is down your throat, your nose pressing to his groin. You moan around his cock, the vibration making him groan.

“Can’t believe I found myself such an eager little slut~” Mingyu chuckles, hips pulling back so you can suck in air then he fucks back down your throat, causing you to gag softly. You swallow over and over to get used to him, the restriction of your air just making your cunt soak faster, gummy walls clenching at the thought of his fat cock splitting you in half-

“You like my cock that much? You’re drooling like a fucking dog.” He huffs, his other hands going to your hair as well and you focus on breathing when you can as he fucks your face, your chin a mess of spit and pre.

“Bet you’d like to be fucked like one too. Like a little bitch needing to get bred.” You can’t help but moan at the thought, just the idea of him filling you with his hot cum sending burning heat down to your core.

“How’d you like if I kept you, huh? My pretty little puppy, collar and all, ready to suck me off and take my cock whenever I want~?” He chuckles darkly and despite not knowing if he was being serious, his debauched statements just fuel the fire in your own body.

“Be a good puppy and take my cum, yeah~? Swallow it all~” He groans, burying his cock into your throat as far as he can and your eyes nearly roll back as he pumps his hot jizz down your gullet, your vision spotting from need air, as well as the orgasm thudding through your needy cunt. You feel tears prick your eyes and down your cheeks at the overwhelming sensations and he pulls back so you can breathe, half his cock still in your mouth as it still spurts out ropes of cum. Mingyu finally pulls his cock out of your mouth, still half hard, messy with your spit and his cum, just like your face. You look up at him with a hazy, fucked out expression and he huffs a slightly condescending laugh. You gasp when he shoves his foot between your legs, pressing up against your cunt through your thin sleeping shorts, able to feel your wet through the fabric.

“You’re a such a slut; did I seriously get you off cumming down your throat?”

“Y-Yes…” You reply hoarsely and he scoffs.

“I bet you liked my cum, yeah?” You nod in reply.

“Then get on the bed, ass in the air, I’ll breed you, little bitch~” He grins as you scramble to do so, legs a little wobbly and climb onto the bed, then shove your face into the pillow, ass in the air. Neither of you care that your messy face is getting all over the pillowcase and you gasp when he kneels behind you, reaching forward and tears your breast band off. When he said that the cybernetics made him stronger, you weren’t expecting him to rip leather. You’re less surprised when your linen shorts that you wear as underwear are also torn off, but what you aren’t expecting is the head of his cock already at your soaking cunt. Your breath leaves you and your body spasms in shock, cunt fluttering as he fucks his cock into you immediately, his girth lighting your gummy walls on fire at the sudden stretch.

“Safe word is ‘cactus’.” He tells you and you nod. He at least lets you get somewhat used to him, the head of his cock pushing at your cervix, the sting burns but you can’t help but love it. After only about 40 seconds, when he doesn’t hear you say the word, he starts to fuck you. The air you had just caught back leaves you again and he leans over you, hands gripping the rungs of the headboard, the top banging against the wall in rhythm with his hips. Skin slaps through the room and he huffs a laugh at the mess you’ve already made on his cock and groin, your wet dripping from your cunt as it struggles to take his cock.

“M-Mingyu-!” You gasp, your next orgasm coming startlingly fast. You immediately fall over the edge, clit burning, when he smacks your ass hard, you can feel the outline of his hand as it swiftly turns red on your skin.

“The fuck you call me?”

“S-Sir, s-sorry-“

“Nah, not that either.” He spanks the other cheek, and your fingers bury into the sheets, mind already starting to fade as all you can focus on is him rearranging your guts.

“M-Master-“

“Good girl~” He purrs, his hips stuttering slightly before he’s ball’s deep inside you, filling you with more of his hot cum. Your eyes nearly cross as the force of him painting your insides white, so much that it spills out of your pussy around where he’s inside you, your own release dripping down both your thighs as well. Your body goes limp, and his still hard cock slides out of you as your hips fall to the bed. You lay flat there for just a few seconds, brain trying to bring you back to reality, body twitching. You somewhat register him lifting your leg up to his hip, turning you partially onto your side before he’s back inside you, the new angle letting the fat head of this dick to pound at your weak spot over and over.

“Fuck, master~!” You squeal, giggling deliriously, blushing even like you’re totally drunk on his cock.

“You like being my sweet little slut, huh? Like when I fuck you like a bitch?”

“Yes~!” You nearly start to babble in protest when his hips halt but he’s just rolling you onto your back, still buried inside you and then slings your knees over his elbows, folding you in half, his hand coming to grip your throat again. He squeezes just right, your head swimming, but able to breathe enough, and he huffs when your cunt tightens further and more of your release spurts out of your cunt and over both of you, his fat cock just barreling through it. The sharp sting of overstimulation crests, making tears spill over your cheeks and he groans at the sight, leaning down and licking up the tears on your face. The sharp burning crests and fades to please again and he groans, his thrusts growing shallow, buried deep and just battering the tip of his cock against your back wall over and over. Mingyu’s hand leaves your throat, and you gasp as full airflow returns to you, then he shoves his thumb into your mouth, holding it open. He smirks as you reach up to grip at his wrist, but make no move to try and move him, nearly hugging his arm.

“Such a good bitch, tongue out, panting for her master. If you had a tail, it’d be wagging, huh, puppy?” You nod with a whine, spit dripping from the corner of your mouth and he presses his thumb down on the back of your tongue. He pulls his hand back, moving your legs from over his elbows so he can instead sling them over his shoulders, your ankles by his ears. He leans back a bit, forcing your lower back to prop up and he shoves a pillow under you. He groans as he continues to fuck a mess of cum out of your cunt, watching as your lower stomach bulges, your tiny body struggling to accommodate him.

Mingyu keeps going for literal hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm from you, your cunt nearly numb, your head blank, the bed an absolute mess. He had only cum two other times, changing position over and over, bending you over the bed, holding you up over him to thrust up into you, up against the wall, even in the air. Right before he shoves his cock back into your abused hole for the nth time, you tap out.

“C-cactus-!” You gasp out and he immediately snaps out of it, pulling back. He gently rolls you over onto your back, his concerned face softening his dominant stupor immediately.

“Oh, oh…puppy, I’m sorry, are you hurting?”

“S-sore…” you heave out and he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I got carried away-“ You shake your head, humming softly.

“You’re okay~ I just…can’t keep going… I don’t think I can even walk…” He huffs a soft laugh, looking over you at the mess of both of your fluids and the bruises his hands left on your hips.

“You know…”

“Hm?”

“You kept calling be a bitch in heat…but you fucked me like a dog too~” He blinks at you in a bit of shock, then he bursts out into laughter.

“I guess I did~”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[heroesrest64]

Haunting Heroes

Story summary: You find a great house at an absolute steal of a price. The only problem? Your house is probably most definitely haunted.

Chapter 1: Moving In

Chapter summary: either your family is going out of their way to prank you, or you have a ghost problem.

You can read the chapter here on ao3

Chapter under the cut :)

A list of temporary nicknames for the boys (why do I do this to myself TT)

Hyrule Warriors Link/ Warriors: Vanity

Alttp Link/ Legend: Whisper

BotW Link/ Wild: Spice

You really should’ve asked more about the history of this place before moving in.

It’s not your fault, really! The place was at a price you couldn’t beat, came with all of the bells and whistles, in a safe neighborhood not too far from your boring office job. Really, it was like all of the stars aligned.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be so simple. A house doesn’t come so cheap for no reason. Usually, it means something is seriously wrong with it and it’s going to fall down in a couple months, or it’s haunted.

It turns out your situation is the latter.

In your defence, it wasn’t obvious for about a week. Just little things- puddles in the bathroom you didn’t remember making, spices moved to unusual places, clocks not set to the correct times. All easily explainable- you aren’t the most organized person, so any number of things could be explained away by your own forgetfulness.

You should’ve seen the writing on the wall.

Literally, you should’ve seen the writing on the wall. Or, the bathroom mirror, you suppose.

“Welcome.” You read aloud, squinting at the message written in big, loopy letters on your fogged up mirror. That’s not ominous at all.

Now, you could read into this two ways. One- you’re being pranked, which is impossible because you’re severely lacking in the friend department and your family lives way too far away to come out for a simple prank visit. Or two- a ghost wrote on your mirror and is probably gonna jump scare you right now.

What are you supposed to do in this sort of situation? Call a priest? Ignore it? Cry??

You choose the second option because ignoring your problems has never gotten you in any sort of trouble and always works.

You go about your days, ignoring the animals in your backyard staring you down with too-intelligent eyes, the flickering lights, the chills that sometimes follow you from room to room.

It’s like you’re living in a low-stakes horror movie. Nothing ever really happens, whatever’s haunting you doesn’t seem keen to interact with you directly, other than occasionally changing up your spice selection or writing short notes on your mirrors.

It’s all becomes so mundane, in fact, that you kind of start to… enjoy the company?

Look. You don’t have a lot of friends, and your family doesn’t live close enough for you to visit or vice versa. It may sound a little sad, but can anyone really blame you for wanting to befriend your roommates, no matter how questionable their very existence is?

So you may or may not begin trying option four- interacting with the ghost in your house. You vocally thank no one in particular when a spice is positioned for you to use, you start reading off what’s on your phone when that cold chill looms over your shoulder, you call out for the voices to go to bed when they start whispering around 3 in the morning.

At a certain point, you realize you have more than one housemate. You’re pretty sure there’s at least three, but there might be more.

You’ve started calling them by nicknames, too, just to differentiate them. Whisper is the ghost that speaks at night. They’re not very chatty, and immediately shut up when they realize you’re not sleeping. You don’t think they’re shy though, as they respond in a snarky rendition of your sisters voice when they do talk back to you.

Next is Spice. They’re the ghost who seems tied down to your kitchen, and might be responsible for all of the stuff that moves around in there. You think they might be the one resetting your clocks and rattling your pipes, but you aren’t sure.

There’s also Vanity, they’re the one who talks to you through fogged up mirrors. They’re pretty huffy at you, probably realizing you ignored their welcome, but they’re also the most chatty, and you guys spend a couple minutes after your showers just trying to talk, although you don’t tend to get very far before the fog fades away.

So, there’s at least three specters, but that still leaves a few unexplained phenomena. The cold chills following you around, the flickering lights, the weird dreams that sometimes wake you up kicking and screaming. You don’t know if any of the ghosts you know exist are capable of doing those things, so you plan to ask.

“Hey Vanity? How many of you guys are there?” You ask, rubbing your hair dry with a towel. The ghost is pretty funny in your opinion- they don’t talk to you in the mirror unless you’re completely dressed.

‘9’ the loopy writing of the mirror ghost appears. You almost pissed yourself the first time it happened, but you’re pretty used to it now.

“Wait, really? I thought there were only three of you.” You admit. The ghost doesn’t respond for a second before, very slowly, an arrow takes form. It points down, at the sink in front of you that suddenly begins dripping water.

You’re a big enough person to admit you screamed. What were you supposed to do, just stare at the faucet (which hadn’t even turned on- water just decided to start coming out of it) and decide that it was a completely normal thing to see?

“What the fuck!” You shout, raising your hands defensively. The water stops, and you stare your sink down suspiciously like it might start spraying water again.

‘Stop. Follow him.’ The note on your mirror appears in the fading steam, and you can’t even begin to puzzle out the meaning before the sound of dripping water begins, and you look at where it’s coming from to find a small puddle on the floor.

A few seconds later, another puddle forms, then another, and another, slowly creating a path outside of your bathroom and down the hall.

“Oh my gosh, I’m about to go on a ghost hunt.” You whisper to yourself, slowly following the footprints further into your house.

[darylsdelts]

Hello there! I know you must be busy with uni but I really love your headcanons!! So yup, whenever you feel like it just let out all those thoughts you have, they will be appreciated by your loyal followers!😄

I’m glad you like them haha!

I’m tryna think of more!!

D.D head-canons: part idek anymore

🫧 should be wearing glasses, his eyesight has gotten slightly worse with age but only with close up stuff. Struggles to read over Jude’s homework for her and would just say it was good.

🫧 a few residents of Alexandria had wrongly assumed that him and carol were together and it made him very uncomfortable. He didn’t really know how to put those rumours to rest but they eventually went away… thank god.

🫧 really wanted a baby sibling when he was little, a sister more specifically. He used to wish he had a sibling closer to his age to play with when Merle wasn’t around.

🫧 used to try to take his teddy in with him during bath time and momma would have to explain to him that his teddy wouldn’t be any good wet. It ended in tears every time.

🫧 had to wear shoes too small or too big for him quite often when he was little. Either wearing merles old shoes or his own shoes that he had grown out of.

🫧 he liked the songs his momma would play and sing and would try to sing along with his cute baby voice. He sometimes still hums them when doing random tasks.

🫧 was really well behaved at school, at least early on, he really enjoyed the praise he’d get.

🫧 when he’s alone, sometimes over thinking or just feeling overwhelmed, he’ll stare down and count the eyelets on his boots, something he’s always done. It may not help much but he still holds onto it.

🫧 this is obvious but he’s a very private lover. He’s still sweet in company of others of course, and if only carol or someone he’s real close to is around, he’d rest his hand on your lower back or have his arm over your shoulders but he usually saves all the sweetness for behind closed doors. Also he would kill you if you let it slips that he sometimes whines for snuggles. Do not tell a soul.

🫧 took a long while for him to be comfortable to get teary eyed around you. If you could watch Disney movies together he’d definitely cry though.

🫧 he actually does want to be a father but he’s only brought it up once, scared it could pressure you if he brings it up again. He can’t fathom being able to carry a human in your body for nine months then pushing it out so he’ll wait for you to say something. If you never do, he’s okay with that.

🫧 he wouldn’t exactly propose. You’d probably bring up the idea of being married and he’d say something like “is that what you want?”/“would you want that?” To which you’d nod and he’d say “you can be”. The next day he’d go out and find the closest thing he could to resemble a pretty ring. He’s not materialistic and neither are you but he wants to be able to have something which shows you’re his. He’d get home and sit on the couch, taking your hand and sliding it on your finger. “Yeah?” He’d ask. “Love ya so much”.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - K.I.S.S.I.N.G.

Warning : pissing (not kinky), slight handjob (?)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “Like thanos and reader hardcore making out in the bathroom of the games place and some player (probably nam-gyu?) caught them” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // it might be a little more than suggestive ? High-fiving myself because I slightly got rid of the blockage I have. // Reread it so many times so idk if it’s good anymore.

You were relaxing in your bed, waiting for the afternoon to pass after the latest vote. The adrenaline was gone, the mood had shifted from stressing to peaceful, people chatting quietly amongst themselves.

Then you felt your bed shake a bit, someone climbing your ladder. Your eyes remained closed, not particularly caring though you already had an idea of who it was.

The person stopped when they reached your level, probably staring, wondering if you were asleep before jumping on your bed, uncaring, laying really close to you, their breath fanning over your face as they placed a hand by your waist.

Though the bed was small and you were laying in the middle of it, you knew the extreme proximity wasn’t because of the size of it.

You opened your eyes, Thanos staring right back at you with a small smirk. You smiled briefly, moving your head slightly closer to his as you closed your eyes once more.

You expected him to say something, trying to flirt or get under your skin, but instead he said nothing, just resting with you silently.

His hand by your waist kept moving, fidgeting and tapping and the more you tried to relax, the more you struggled falling asleep. Thanos kept shifting, rubbing his feet together, tapping them rhythmically against yours. You could hear the shuffling of his body continuously moving.

He clearly had a song stuck in his head, and you swore that with the proximity you could hear it. Or maybe it was just you.

You began shifting as well, feet moving and fingers fidgeting. You didn’t even know why your eyes were still closed at this point, but as you were stubborn, you kept them that way, wanting to enjoy your peace a bit longer.

You sighed quietly, you needed to go to the bathroom but you didn’t want to go, feeling too comfortable to want to move. You waited for a moment, trying to ignore it before finally giving up. You sat up, Thanos watched you, confused. And then you climbed on top of him to go down the ladder by his side. His hands went to your wrists, stopping you from moving, keeping you above him.

You stared at each other silently. You could tell the gears were turning in his brain.

“Where are you going ?” He finally asked.

“Bathroom. Wanna help me piss ?” You replied, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.

“I could.” He shrugged, smirking.

You laughed with a grimace, shaking your head as you began moving again, climbing down the ladder, leaving him on your bed.

And with that you were gone, walking toward the door, knocking against it loudly.

“I have to go take a leak !” You said, hoping there was a guard behind the door.

No answer.

“Do I have to piss by the door ?” You asked, more to yourself than anything. They generally let people go to the bathroom during the day.

‘Weird’, you thought.

Meh.

You shrugged, beginning to pull your pants down as the door suddenly opened. Did you scare them or were they too busy to open sooner ?

You smiled, pulling your pants back up before patting the triangle’s shoulder, walking past him and into the corridors to go to the bathroom.

Though you weren’t in any rush, you still trotted toward the closest urinal. Your head fell back, sighing as you finally emptied your bladder.

A few seconds later you heard the door slam open, footsteps approaching.

“Pissing all by yourself, handsome ?”

You smiled as you looked behind, watching the owner of the voice get closer, leaning against the wall by the urinal you were using, eyeing you.

“What. You really wanna give me a hand ?” You snorted, amused.

“I actually might.” He replied, looking down at your dick.

“Aw. Cute. Too late for that, though.” You pulled your pants up, blowing him a kiss before walking toward the sink, Thanos following you.

“Why are you here ? Clearly you don’t need to relieve yourself.” You turned the faucet on, warm water hitting your skin as you began to wash your hands.

“How do you know I don’t need to relieve myself ?” He cockily smiled. Hinting something else than what you talked about.

“And how is that my problem ?” You looked at him and he shrugged.

“You’re the reason ?”

“Ah.” You dried your hands, nodding. “And how should I help you ?” You smiled, pushing your hands in his pockets, pulling him closer.

He looked around for a moment, acting as if he was thinking, you tilted your head, waiting, one hand moving to his hair, gently combing them.

“I think your lips could really help.” He replied. Not that your hand in his hair and your proximity wasn’t enough, but Thanos was selfish, wanting more.

“How so ?” You leaned closer. “Like this ?” You kissed his lips, before giving them a quick lick, smiling.

He didn’t let you pull away, grabbing your arms as he planted his lips on yours, deepening the kiss. It was almost desperate, but you'd say it was primarily hungry. Your hands went to his face, thumbs gently caressing his skin as you chuckled.

You only slightly moved back before attacking his face with your lips, letting your excitement explode, planting them everywhere, pecking every inch of his skin.

Thanos let out a dopey laugh as you kissed his eyelids, making you chuckle. He sounded so cute.

He grabbed your face, stopping you, making you look to the side before his lips went to your cheek strongly, making a comically loud kissing sound as he pulled away only to continue kissing your face the same way you did with his but with much more strength, forcing you to scrunch up your face as his hands squeezed your cheeks.

Still, you let yourself be kissed, humming, enjoying his warm lips against your skin, your hands were by the back of his neck, gently playing with the shorter hair.

Then his focus returned to your lips, tasting you again, growing more intense. As he bit your lower lip you tugged on his hair, making him hiss loudly and throw his head back to ease the stinging pain, laughing lightly.

You moved lower, snickering, attacking his neck, teeth digging in his skin. He let you do what you wanted for a moment as you enjoyed yourself, leaving a path of hickeys and bite marks on his neck.

And then, it was his turn to pull your hair to bring you back on his lips, despite your grimace you still smiled, gladly focusing on kissing him properly again.

You pushed him against the wall, trapping him against you as you kept devouring one another. His tongue was warm against yours. But his hands sliding under your t-shirt weren’t.

A chill ran down your spine as his cold hands caressed your hot skin, gliding on your sides and up your back, holding you close.

You pulled away.

“Don’t touch me with those cold ass hands, dude. Are you a corpse ?” You said, pecking his lips as you grabbed his arms, forcing his hands out from under your shirt as you held them, squeezing them. He squeezed your hands back, fingers caressing yours gently.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about it ?” He asked, kissing your jaw before letting his forehead rest against your shoulder.

One of your hands went back to his hair, gently pulling on a few wild strands, tickling his scalp.

“Don’t touch me ?” You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Fuck off !” He replied, pushing you slightly.

“Alright.” You shrugged, raising your hands in the air before turning around and walking away.

“Ah, come on.” He went after you, grabbing your hands to make you face him again.

“As much as I love your hands, they’re not sliding under my clothes today.”

He whined, frowning before looking at you surprised.

“You like my hands ?”

You kissed his cheek, before looking at his hands, raising them higher to see them better.

“Have you seen them ? Fuck !”

He chuckled, squeezing your fingers.

“Oh, so you’re down bad, huh ?” He said, swaying side to side mockingly. You laughed loudly.

“Shut up. I should say the same about you.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

You sighed and laughed, hitting his shoulder. Thanos pulled you closer, capturing your lips once more as he continued holding your fingers, thumbs gently rubbing against them.

One of your hands went to his chest, slowly moving it lower and lower, pushing past his waistband and into his pants, wrapping it around his cock. You quickly felt him tense and relax against you.

You began to stroke him, feeling his dick pulse awake with each of your caresses. Thanos was smiling against your lips, happy with where this was going. He definitely made the right choice to go after you.

Then suddenly you heard the door open followed by a sigh, footsteps approaching, and then, silence.

You and Thanos looked at who had entered, smiling once you saw Namgyu and Gyeongsu.

Quickly they noticed your hand in Thanos’ pants, still working his dick as he let out a sigh, resting his head against your shoulder. Namgyu groaned while Gyeongsu quickly looked away, finding the structure of the walls and floor far more interesting.

“Woah, really…” Namgyu scoffed, combing his hair with one hand. “Wanted to take a shit but now I don’t want to anymore.”

“Why ? Nothing’s stopping you.” You said, rubbing your cheek against Thanos' hair.

“Yeah. Go- ahead.” Thanos added, trying to stay composed, a tent now well visible in his pants as his hands gripped your arms.

“No. Just- Be quick about it.” Namgyu answered, turning his back and walking away, Gyeongsu rapidly following him.

You snickered as you heard the door close behind them, Thanos looking at you, smiling as he leaned closer, kissing you.

[prettyshittywriting]

Could u write yan Wednesday with a soft shy reader who doesn’t know how to accept her attention but she can tell reader wants to?

-🎀

omgg before I start hi??? not me coming out of a retirement on a random Thursday after a year!!??? anyway you prob DO NOT still want this but I wanna make it anyway😪 I'm sorry for it taking this long💗💗💗

Yandere Wednesday Addams x shy reader

Wednesday is... intense, to say the least. No matter what she's doing, she's always fixated on it. And fortunately (or unfortunately), you have become Wednesday Addams’ new obsession.

You're a new student at Nevermore, and you still haven't gotten to know many people. It's not that you don’t want to—you’re just a bit shy, preferring to keep to yourself. You don’t mind the quiet. This is probably what initially attracted Wednesday to you.

When she first saw you, she didn’t think much of it. But the more she noticed you sitting alone, the more intrigued she became. Why were you always so quiet? Eventually, Enid caught on after realizing that Wednesday was too busy staring at the new girl to listen to a word she was saying. At some point, you caught on too.

Obviously, you had heard about Wednesday’s reputation—everyone had. And, safe to say, you were terrified. Who wouldn’t be? You started avoiding her like the plague. Of course, she noticed. You weren’t friends, but she could tell every time you practically ran in the opposite direction whenever she looked at you.

After about a week of this, Wednesday got sick of it. She decided to confront you. But, since this is Wednesday Addams, of course, she couldn't be normal about it.

That’s when the gifts outside your room started appearing. A box of chocolates here, a flower there—all accompanied by a note with nothing on it but “Wednesday” in beautiful handwriting.

Safe to say, you were very confused. She had been practically glaring at you for weeks, and now she was giving you candy? Weird.

After receiving your fifth rose in a week, you decided to confront her. After a class you shared, you somehow mustered the courage to approach the Wednesday Addams and ask why she was gifting you so much. You didn’t know what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t for her to tell you that she couldn't stop thinking about you—for reasons even she couldn’t comprehend.

Obviously, you were weirded out. You thanked her for the gifts and asked her to stop before turning to walk away. But before you could take two steps, she grabbed your hand and dragged you into the woods in complete silence as you begged her to let go.

After what felt like an eternity of being dragged like a ragdoll, she finally stopped and told you everything—how she had been obsessed with you ever since you arrived, why she had been sending you gifts, and how she hadn’t meant to scare you. She just wasn’t very good at communicating.

She attempted to apologize—then promptly demanded that you two were dating. It would have been cute if she hadn’t just forcibly dragged you away, making you think you were about to die.

After a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agreed to give her a chance—but begged her not to be weird about it next time.

In the relationship, she would be overly protective and possessive, but she would at least try to get better at communicating… somewhat.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I hope this is good omg I right like I'm 13😪

hope you still enjoyed it anyway yalll😪💗

feel free to leave requests😪💗

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟽

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“Come here, little ducks. I’ve got a bunch of yummy seeds for you guys to eat.” 

You crouch down, leaning closer to the edge of the lake as you scatter seeds across the water’s surface. They all come flocking around, trying to gather the food up as quickly as they can.

“They like it,” you beam towards Liam. “Good idea bringing all these seeds along. It’s been a while since I got to do something like this.” 

Liam smiles back. “Don’t mention it. You look like you’re having fun.” 

“Mhm! I love animals. They’re so cute and interesting. And even if we don’t completely understand them, it’s cool how they find different ways of communicating with us.” 

“Yeah, there’s all kinds of crazy stuff going on in the animal kingdom. Animals are a lot smarter than some people give them credit for.” Liam pauses for a moment, then sheepishly scratches his head. “When I was younger I actually wanted to become a veterinarian. But obviously there’s a lot of work that goes into that sort of thing. Even if I went to university, I’m not sure I would’ve had what it takes.” 

Axel leans over his boyfriend’s shoulder and pouts. “Don’t say that, babe. You’re super smart. You always learn things way faster than I do. I bet you could have easily done it. And it’s never too late to start, right?” 

“It’s fine,” Liam chuckles, tousling Axel’s hair. “It’s not like I’m not happy with my current career. I was just imagining another outcome, that’s all.” 

“Well, if you ever find something else you want to try, I’ll be right behind you. You should be able to do whatever makes you happy.” 

Axel wraps his arms around Liam and gives him a big hug, and even though this date is technically supposed to be between all three of you, you can’t help but feel like you’re slightly out of place. They’ve just got such a sweet and lovey-dovey relationship. It’s enough to make you blush. 

“Thanks for saying you’d support me,” Liam smiles. He squeezes Axel’s hand, then crouches down beside you. “Anyways, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent. I just wanted to say I really like animals too. Oh!” 

His eyes widen, and at first you’re not sure why, but then you follow his gaze and realize that one of the smaller ducks has decided to climb out of the water. It stands up on its cute webbed feet, spends a few moments shaking its tail feathers off, then proceeds to tilt its head at you and stare. 

“I think it might want to say hi,” Liam whispers, being careful not to scare the duck off. 

“That or it wants more birdseed,” you whisper back. 

“Ah. Yeah, that’s probably it.” 

“I’ve heard ducks can be pretty aggressive, you know,” Axel remarks to no one in particular. You notice that he’s not getting close to the duck like you and Liam. He’s probably not that big on animals.

“You’re probably thinking of geese,” Liam dismisses. 

“Nah, ducks too. I’ve definitely heard that they can get really territorial and stuff.” 

“Is that why you’re standing so far back? Because you’re scared of this one little duck?” 

“...no.” 

Axel crosses his arms and frowns, but he still doesn’t step up, so honestly, it’s not too convincing. 

You and Liam exchange knowing looks, even chuckling a few times under your breaths, but before you can consider teasing Axel any more, the duck walks right up to you and lets out a proud, resounding quack. 

“Aww,” you gush. “Look at this cutie.” 

“He’s adorable,” Liam nods in agreement. “Here, little guy. We’ve still got lots of seeds left for you.” 

Both of you hold out hands filled with birdseed. The duck takes a moment to ponder its options, then starts pecking at the seeds directly from your palm. You giggle at the sensation of its beak nuzzling your skin. 

“Damn, lucky!” Liam whines. “I want to feed him too.” 

“We can take turns. Here, I’ll pull my hand away so he can go over to you next.” 

You do just that, and unsurprisingly, the duck heads directly towards the nearest source of food. Liam’s eyes are practically glowing with excitement as he watches the duck happily eat straight from his hand. 

Axel shakes his head. “Man. Aren’t you guys scared he’ll bite your fingers off?” 

“Ducks don’t have teeth, Axel,” Liam sighs. He gives you a look that seems to say, ‘Sorry about him. He’s hardly a duck connoisseur.’ 

“But they can still bite, I’m pretty sure.” 

“Are you seriously scared of ducks? How am I just now finding out about this?” 

“Pfft.” You giggle and tentatively reach a hand out while Liam feeds the duck, and as chance as would have it, the duck sits still and lets you pet its back (much to Axel’s horror). 

Honestly, if it was up to just you and Liam, you probably would have played with the ducks for an absurd amount of time, but you feel bad that Axel isn’t being included in this activity, so you suggest doing something else. 

“That was fun, but you mentioned wanting to get something to eat, right?” 

“Yes,” Axel says, exhaling loudly. “Yes, finally. No more ducks. I don’t want to see any more ducks ever again.” 

Liam shakes his head. “I still can’t believe my boyfriend is scared of ducks.” 

“I already said I’m not scared of them! Anyways, whatever! Let’s just go!” 

He storms off comically, and once again, you and Liam proceed to look at each other and burst out laughing.

You walk back the way you came from and eventually leave the park. Axel already seems to have a few places in mind for where you can go to grab food, and he looks excited to voice his suggestions. 

“This place has really good reviews,” Axel beams as he swings the front door open. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great. You always know how to pick them,” Liam encourages. Axel nods happily and steps inside the restaurant, and while his back is turned, Liam leans in to whisper in your ear. “Please just humor him. Even if the food’s bad, try not to let it show. He gets really bummed out about these kinds of things.” 

So, he’s scared of ducks and also gets all pouty when things don’t go his way. That’s kind of cute.

You sit down at one of the booths and start skimming through the menu. Thankfully, it looks pretty promising. Odds are that everything will taste great and Axel’s feelings will be spared.

You end up being seated right in between Axel and Liam, which feels a bit strange, since it’s sort of like you’re acting as a barrier between the couple. They seem fine with it though, and you suppose this is supposed to be a date involving you as well. So far it’s felt more like hanging out with your friends, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially since you’re getting paid on top of everything else. 

“What are you gonna get, [Name]?” 

Axel leans over, bumping shoulders with you in the process. The booth is big enough for the three of you to sit comfortably, but he isn’t shy about getting close. The lack of distance makes your face heat up a little bit. These guys really are way too attractive for their own good. 

“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, hoping it’s not too obvious that you’re blushing. “What about you? Have you already decided?” 

“Sure have,” he grins. “I’m getting the steak. And the ribs. And the spicy hot wings.”

That’s a lot of protein…

“Axel has a big appetite,” Liam says, flipping through the menu. “I keep telling him he eats way too much meat and needs more variety in his diet, but he doesn’t listen.” 

“How is my fault that meat tastes so good?” 

“Your body’s going to hate you one day when you’re not young and fit. I also don’t understand how your skin always looks so nice, even with all the junk you eat.” Liam sighs and lightly pats his cheeks. “Meanwhile, I break out constantly if I’m not careful.”

“Being a model full-time sure sounds difficult,” you frown. “I obviously don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard it’s really hard always staying in perfect shape.” 

“It depends. Some people you work with are more lenient than others, but yeah. I’ve definitely met my fair share of assholes that made me adhere to ridiculous standards. That’s just the industry, though. It’s super competitive, so you need to be willing to go above and beyond. Which is why I’m getting a salad today.” 

“He works so hard,” Axel sniffles. “I would literally kill myself if I ever had to eat a salad.” 

You chuckle, but in all honesty, you doubt he was kidding.

Eventually, you figure out what you want to eat, and soon enough, the server comes back with all your orders. Axel’s dishes alone cover the majority of the table. Setting aside the fact that it’s literally just meat, the sheer quantity that he’s about to consume is enough to make you feel ill.

You decide to avoid looking at his side of the table and just focus on yourself.

“It’s good,” you remark, and you’re not just saying that to make Axel happy. The food is good. Going to this restaurant was the right decision after all. 

“My salad’s really good too,” Liam nods. 

“How good can it possibly be? It’s a salad,” Axel shudders, as if merely uttering the word causes him immense pain. 

Liam shoots him a pointed glare out of the corner of his eye, and Axel proceeds to take a big bite out of his ribs, unbothered. Meanwhile, you struggle to hide the smile spreading across your lips. Being with these two is a lot of fun. 

“Oh. [Name], you’ve got a little something on your face,” Axel suddenly remarks. 

“I do?” 

Your face reddens. How embarrassing. You’re not usually a messy eater, which is why you’re surprised to see Axel reaching towards you with a napkin. You squeeze your eyes shut so he can gently pat the napkin across the corners of your mouth.

“Th-Thanks,” you say. “I appreciate it.” 

Axel grins. “It’s no big deal. There were only a few crumbs. I just wanted to try doing that. So, now it’s your turn, right?” 

He gestures towards the little patches of sauce on his face, which you were debating telling him about, but he clearly seems aware. It’s no surprise he’s made a mess, considering the loaded meal he’s been chowing down on.

You chuckle softly. “Alright, then. Hold still so I can clean this up for you.” 

Axel beams at you, clearly happy as can be. He didn’t initially strike you as the type who enjoys being spoiled, but then again, he’s scared of ducks and refuses to eat vegetables, so perhaps it’s not all that surprising. 

Your back is turned towards Liam the whole while, so it goes without saying that you don’t notice the pained look in his eyes.

“All done,” you say, and Axel sighs disappointedly. 

“That felt so nice,” he whines. “Will you play with my hair later? I love it when Liam plays with my hair.” 

“I can just do that for you at home,” Liam suggests, a slight desperation in his voice. 

“But I want [Name] to do it for me,” Axel insists. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close while grinning. “[Name]’s so cute and nice. I can’t believe you’re not actually dating someone for real. People are seriously missing out.” 

You blush again. The flattery is practically nonstop with this guy. Well, you suppose you aren’t complaining, and it's nice to know that he’s having a good day. 

“...yeah. She’s really cute and nice,” Liam mumbles in agreement. He smiles at you, briefly, then turns away and starts poking at his salad. 

For just a second, his expression looked a bit off. Were you imagining it? 

“Man, I don’t want today to end,” Axel sighs, still hugging you. “I can’t wait for us to do this again. You’re fine with that, right, [Name]? You’d be open to seeing us again?” 

“Of course,” you nod. “I’ve been having a great day. You two are a lot of fun to be around. What about you, Liam? Would you want to do this again sometime?” 

Liam freezes up. Once again, he’s surprised that you’re bothering to check with him. He’s so used to Axel leading the conversation. He’s got a big personality and has a tendency to sweep everyone up in his own pace. 

But you were right to ask him. Initially, Axel said this would only be a one time thing, and he agreed to it just to make him happy. However, it’s clear now that he isn’t comfortable doing this. You’re a great person, and he genuinely enjoys being around you, but he’s not sure he can ever imagine sharing his boyfriend with someone else. It’s nothing personal. It’s just… not something he feels okay doing. 

So, he needs to be vocal about this and tell Axel how he feels. Surely then, he’ll understand. The fact that he was willing to even try should already count for something. It has to. 

Liam offers you an appreciative look, then turns towards Axel.

“I’m—” 

“Liam wants to do this again too. Of course he does,” Axel says, waving his hand and practically dismissing him before he can get a word in. “We talked about it before. And he would’ve told me if he wasn’t having a good time.” 

Liam desperately tries to hide the shock on his face. 

What? He… never promised anything. All he said was that he would try this out and make his decision afterwards. Why is Axel acting like it’s already a sure thing that he’ll want to keep going?

“Today’s been great,” Axel hums. He leans up against you, shoving your body closer to Liam’s and effectively pushing you into his arms. “Going on a date is way more fun with all three of us. Right, Liam?” 

Axel finally meets Liam’s gaze, and the look in his eyes is so painfully expectant that Liam can’t think of a way to refuse. He knows he should. He’s an adult, with his own voice and his own opinions. But for some reason… it feels wrong. It feels like he’s not allowed to do what he wants and risk upsetting Axel in the process. 

Liam hasn’t had a relationship worth protecting until now. He’s only dated losers, assholes, or shitty girls who went behind his back and cheated on him. That’s why he’s so afraid. He’s afraid that saying the wrong words will ruin the best thing that ever happened to him.

And so, he buckles.

“Yeah,” Liam smiles. He’s used to forcing a smile. He does it for work all the time. “It’s been a lot of fun. We should definitely do this again.” 

You stare at him long and hard. Part of you still gets this strange feeling, this feeling that he isn’t being completely transparent. But you’re not the one who can make this choice for him, and he’s had every opportunity to come forward with the truth. 

“Great,” you smile back. “I’m happy to hear it.”

Axel lets out a happy cheer, and even leans across the booth so that he can pull Liam into his arms as well. Between the three of you, it’s hot, stuffy, and there’s not much wiggle room, but Axel seems to be loving every moment of it.

Liam’s eyes lower to the ground.  

It’s okay. Just one more time. He’ll go on just one more date, and then he’ll tell Axel how he really feels. 

Definitely.

It’s late. Normally, at this time of the night, you would be curled up inside your apartment, either doing homework, watching TV, or scrolling mindlessly through your phone. It’s nearly time for you to be going to bed, but instead of sitting comfortably at home, you’re standing out in the chilly night air, dressed in a skirt that you grossly underestimated how short it is. 

And what’s the reason for all of this? 

Your job, of course. 

“[Name]! Hell yeah, you actually made it,” Callum grins. 

He walks over to greet you in a hug, but you’re too preoccupied with shivering from your poor choice of dress, so you give him a half-hearted fist bump instead. 

There’s a party on campus tonight. Well, there’s probably several parties on campus, but this is the one that Callum invited you to, because he heard that Nadia would be going as well. And since he fully intends to make her jealous and eventually win her back—a plan that you still aren’t totally convinced by—he hired you to come out and be here with him. 

“You look really nice,” Callum says. He offers you a lazy, but well-meaning smile. You appreciate the compliment, and you were hoping you looked nice, but right now you’re honestly freezing your ass off. The sooner you get inside, the better. 

“Thanks,” you nod. “You look nice too. I, um. I like your t-shirt.” 

Callum stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and explodes into laughter. “Haha! Ha, that’s good. You know, you really don’t have to force yourself to say something nice. Most guys don’t exactly put as much effort into their outfits as girls do.” 

“It’s a nice t-shirt,” you shrug. 

“Well, I appreciate you saying that. Come on,” he gestures, beckoning you along. “Let’s get going. This is around the time people were saying Nadia would be showing up. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll run into her right from the beginning.” 

You nod and follow him. Even though you still have your doubts about whether or not Nadia will actually want to get back together with him, you’re done worrying about it. He’s the client, and you’re here to do a job. All you can do is play your part, and play it well. You’re being paid whether or not his plan succeeds, and honestly? Part of you is hoping it won’t, only because they’re so clearly not good for each other. You want Callum to be able to move on with his life and find someone who treats him well. Someone who genuinely makes him happy. 

But until that happens, you’re in for one hell of a ride. 

“I mentioned before that some buddies of mine are gonna be at this party too, right? I think you’ll like them,” Callum says. He scratches his cheek, then laughs. “And they’ll probably like you too. None of my friends can really stand Nadia. They always tell me she’s a massive bitch and I need to drop her already.” 

Yikes. Even his friends are advising him to find someone else, but he still has no intention of doing it. His relationship with Nadia truly is a horror show. 

“Honestly, they’ll probably suggest I start dating you instead,” Callum adds in a casual, nonchalant tone.

“But we’re still telling them we’re just friends, because that’s what we agreed on. Right…?” 

You blink warily. You hope this whole thing isn’t one big setup, because you’ll be really pissed off. If he deceives you again, then you have no intention of keeping him as a client. 

“Don’t worry,” Callum reassures. “I’m only going to tell people that you’re my friend. I’m just assuming how they’ll react, because I know they’re desperate for me to date other girls apart from Nadia. They just really want her out of my life. Which I get, because again, she’s kind of fucking crazy.” 

I am very much aware. 

You let out a sigh. It’s weird to think that you’re being paid to essentially butt into someone else’s relationship. If someone had asked you how you would be earning money, you could never have predicted it would be like this. 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. There’s no shame in what you’re doing. If other people can hold their heads up high while working this job, then so can you. 

“Looks like we’re here,” Callum says. He points towards a big house further up ahead, where there’s a line of people waiting outside to be let in. It’s even busier than you were expecting. You’re not much of a partygoer to begin with, but damn. You can already tell people are going to get wasted out of their minds. 

Callum pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Hold up. I’m gonna text my friends and see where they’re at. One of them is pretty close with some of the frat guys, so I think we’ll be able to get in for free. We might be able to skip the line too.” 

You nod and step back while you wait for him to do his thing. He’s trying to call his friends, but it looks like he might be having a hard time getting through to them, because no one’s picking up. They might already be in the house and can’t hear their phones ringing. The music is blasting even way out here, so you can only imagine how loud it is on the inside. 

Pretty much all you can do is twiddle your thumbs while you wait for Callum to tell you what the plan is, so you absently walk around in place, hoping that it won’t be much longer—you’re seriously freezing. 

All of a sudden, someone bumps into you from behind. 

But it’s not a little bump. It’s not the kind of bump that just startles you and might make you look around in surprise. 

No, it’s the kind of bump that knocks you flat onto the ground and lands you right on your palms and knees. 

The kind of bump that was done on purpose. 

“O-Ouch…” 

You grit your teeth and wince. The fall was far from pleasant, and you know that your tights definitely ripped from the impact. It hurts like a bitch, and when you slowly peel one of your hands away from the concrete, the skin of your palm is covered in angry red scrapes. Part of it has even begun to bleed. 

“Aw, I’m so sorry,” a nasally, disgustingly-fake voice cuts in. It’s a voice you recognize, unfortunately. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is. 

But you do it anyway, and you’re met with a hateful grin. 

“So sorry about that,” Nadia says, looking anything but. She twirls a lock of hair around one of her fingers and chuckles. “But it was really your fault for not looking where you were going. Maybe don’t walk around like an airhead next time, okay, love?” 

You don’t say anything. You refuse to debase yourself and sink to her level. But either way, one thing is certain. 

She’s not going to make this easy for you. 

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