#but man oh man is life just good right now

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, toji x fem!reader, angst angst angst, megs is 17, absent father, family trauma, young love, arguing, talks of pregnancy, talks of killing/assassination, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

based on: like him by tyler the creator

“Alright move closer into the photo—yep! Perfect!” Your mom held the camera up to her eye, slightly bending down. “Alright, three…two…one!” She snapped the photo, smiling as she looked at you and Toji.

It was Megumi’s first birthday, friends and family surrounding to celebrate. Endless gifts and food, music playing over the speakers. Small children ran around the yard, infectious laughter filling the air. The sun shined brightly, not a cloud in the sky. You were happy. Toji held Megumi tight in arm, looking down at the baby with a full head of jet black hair.

You and Toji had met in high school, falling for each other in an instant. You were captivated by his silent and mysterious presence and Toji was capture by your smile and the way your eyes shined in the light. But neither of you expected to end up with a baby boy just two years later after graduation. Not a single moment was regretted. You wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Happy birthday, little man,” he scoffed, holding Megumi above his head. He babbled, giggling as he chewed on his chubby fingers, smiling at his father with love in his eyes.

“I can’t wait to frame this one. You guys look so cute.” Your mom pouted, walking back into the house to put the camera away.

A soft smile spread across your face, holding onto Toji’s arm. “Did you ever think you’d become a dad?” You suddenly asked, watching as your baby played with the fabric of his shirt.

Toji turned towards you, a confused look on his face. “No, but…I’m happy I did. You know I’d do anything for you two.” Toji pulled you in by your waist. “Did you ever think you’d become a mom?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand out to move hair out Megumi’s face. “It’s just weird. We were so young, you know? We still are. But, it feels right.” You rested your heard on his shoulder, letting out a small sigh. A small laugh erupted from your chest, “I carry him for nine months and he came out looking exactly like you.”

“What can I say? I got strong genes, baby.” He nudges you slightly, teasing.

“Oh, hush. I did all the work.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m only messing with you.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Go on, give mama a kiss, little man.” He holds Megumi towards you. As if on cue, he leans his head down and places his slobbery mouth on your forehead. “There you go! Good job!” He chuckles, smiling at his son. “I can’t wait until you’re older so I can teach you about all sorts of things.” Megumi grabs ahold of Toji’s finger in his small palm, squeezing it. “Gonna teach you all types of sports, how to fight so you can protect mommy. I bet you’ll be a good baseball player.” Megumi squeals at Toji. “Baseball? Yeah? Alright, baseball it is.” He kisses his cheek.

You stand there, admiring your two favorite boys. It’s like you see the future when you look at them. A happy life, a cozy home. Maybe even a sibling for Megumi. A ring on your finger, happily married. Thinking of the days when Megumi starts going to school and brings back all his little projects so you can put them in a box and keep them for the future. You already had so much planned at such a young age, but you were determined to fight for it. For him. For your son.

Megumi sits on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. The ceiling fan provides a low hum as it spins. He stares at the wilted paper in his hand, a handwritten note to him—one he’s never seen until now. His chest feels tight, tears welling in his eyes as he reads who it’s from over and over again.

—Your Dad

It feels like he can’t breathe, anger swirling through him. He thinks of all those times you dismissed his questions and conversations about his father—whoever his father was. And now, he was holding a note from him that was written fifteen years ago. A note of how sorry he is and nothing else. A man of few words. No explanation, nothing.

Growing up, Megumi learned from a young age that he looked just like ‘him’. His grandmother and grandfather always slipping up, staring at him like a ghost had just walked in the room. It only got worse as he grew older, starting growing into his features. You even began to stare at him, a look of sadness in your eyes. He never would say anything, always keeping his mouth shut like he didn’t notice. Not once, did you ever speak of his father. Hell, he didn’t even know his name or what he looked like, but from what he’s been told, he probably looks like an older version of him.

All those days, watching fathers bond with their sons, his friends dads coming to sports games, school events, he always felt like deep down something was missing. He felt different. Every Father’s Day, being tasked to make something special in school for their fathers, but how is a nine year old supposed to say he doesn’t have one? How is a thirteen year old supposed to participate in the father-son day at school when he doesn’t have one? How is a seventeen year old supposed to feel when he sees everyone posting their dads on social media, a heartfelt message written with each one, yet he doesn’t even have a photograph to remember him by?

Tears fall on the paper and the hurt that he held back is now manifesting. Why was so hard for you to say anything about him? Was he dead? Is that why it was so hard? Yet, there was no excuse. Whatever it was, he needed to know why he left. Why he was so sorry. It wasn’t until he heard the front door open, your calming voice calling out to him.

“Megs, I’m home!” You shut the door, placing your bag on the countertop.

The door to his bedroom swung open, fresh tears still on his cheeks, the wrinkled note gripped in his hand. He stomped towards you. “What is this?” His nostrils flared.

A crease between your brows formed, noticing the distressed look on his face before your eyes landed on what he was holding. You felt your heart drop, your mouth falling open to say something, anything, but nothing came out. “Meg—”

“What is this? Huh?! I found it in the back of your drawer! A note from my dad!” He slammed the paper down. “Who is he?! Why did he leave?!” He was screaming, his anger pouring out through his words. “You never talk about him! No one does!” He throws his hands up. “You kept…you fucking kept this from me! Fifteen years!” Hot tears spill from his eyes.

Your eyes widen, your lip quivering as you hold back tears. “I’m sorry.” Your voice breaks. “I’ve been wanting to tell you—”

“When? When, mom?! I don’t even know his fucking name! I don’t know what he looks like! There’s not a single picture in this house of him? Is he even alive?!” The look in his eyes makes you want to break down. You knew this day would come sooner or later, but you never expected it to turn out this way. The note. Of course it was the note. Almost like it was fate.

You inhaled deeply, licking your lips as tears fall. “I’m sorry, baby. I just…”

“Why can’t you tell me?” He speaks softly, voice wavering. “I see it in your face. Everyday when you look at me…you can see him. Who is my dad?” He clenches his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. “Why did he leave us? Why did he leave me?” He questions before fully breaking down into tears, sobbing.

“No,no,” you whisper, taking him in your arms. His tears soak through the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you like his life depends on it. “It’s not your fault, baby? You hear me? It’s not his, not yours. It’s complicated.” As you stand there with him in your arms, flashbacks of that night Toji left flood your brain.

“Then where is he? Is he dead?” Megumi asks, raising his head to look at you. The question makes you freeze up, biting on your bottom lip so hard you’re sure to draw blood. “Is he dead, mom?” He stands up straight, wiping his tears.

“I…I don’t know,” you sniffle, shrugging your shoulders. You shake your head as you look at your son, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed. So hurt and disgusted. “He loved you so much, Megumi. I promise you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have left!” He shouted in anger. “Who is he?! Just tell me!” He pleads through his cries.

“His name was Toji. Toji Fushiguro.” You stare at him. “Me and your father met young, back in high school. We had you two years after we graduated. We were so scared. Well, I was scared, but your father was ready. He was so excited,” you chuckle, remembering when you first told him you were pregnant. “He loved you, Megumi. And that’s the exact reason why he left,” you explain.

He shakes his head at you. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your father did everything he could to provide for me and you. You were his everything. His little man. But, he got caught up with the wrong people trying to find ways to make quick money. He was young and desperate, we both were.” Your eyes flutter shut, letting out a sigh. “What your father did for money…you wouldn’t think he was a good man. He made enemies—”

“Mom, what are you saying?! I’m not a kid anymore! Just tell me—”

“He killed people, Megumi! Is that what you wanna hear! He fucking killed people just so he could put food on the table! Fuck!” You hurriedly stand to your feet, looking away from him.

“What…?” He nearly said in a whisper.

“I don’t want you to think he wasn’t a good man, Megs. I don’t want you think he hated you or me. He didn’t. But what he was doing put him and us in danger. He realized that and he left. He couldn’t put us in danger, especially you. That night he left he wrote you this.” You grabbed the note off the counter. “I begged him to stay, baby. I did. I tried. I tried everything.” Megumi sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly ahead of his as he took all this information in. “He never stopped loving you, Megs. He never wanted to leave.”

He slowly turned to look at you, his chest heaving up and down. His eyes were red and glossy from crying. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, baby. He never told me.” You shook your head. He sobbed softly, holding his head in his hands. You walked over, sitting beside him and pulled him into your arms. “Don’t hate him,” you whispered. “He’d be so proud of the man you became. Such a sweet, strong, and smart boy.”

“When did he leave?” Megumi asked.

“A week after your second birthday,” you spoke, biting at the skin on your lip. “He told me you were the best thing to ever happen to him.” You wipe away his tears as they continue to fall. “He’s not a bad guy, he’s just done bad things.”

Now knowing what happened to his father, Megumi felt like his whole world came crashing down. What his father did, who he was. How he came to be. And as much resentment as he holds, he can’t bring himself to hate him. In a way, he understands, but at the same time he doesn’t. He wonders how different things would be if he was here. What life would be Ike. “I’m sorry, mom,” he cried.

“Don’t be, baby. I’m sorry for keeping from you for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to think he was a bad man. I was scared.” You continue to hold him in your arms, consoling him.

“What does he look like?” He asks.

You smile, looking down at him. “You guys are damn near twins.”

Megumi chuckles a little, “I figured.”

“Wait there a moment.” He watches as slip into your bedroom, a few second passing by before you walk out with something in your hands. “Here.”

Megumi looks down, seeing the array of photos you hold on your hands and hesitates on taking them from you. You sit beside him as he grabs them and looks at the first one. “Is that him and you?” He asks, never taking his eyes off the photo.

“Back in high school.” It was one of the first few photos you and Toji ever took together. A picture at the homecoming dance, a plain look on his face while you had a wide smile on your face. “Your father barely ever smiled. But when you came around, he couldn’t stop.”

Megumi was struck. He really did look like him. From the hair, to the eyes, to the nose. Everything. He looked at the next photo. You were pregnant, Toji holding your belly while kissing your cheek. “You guys looked really happy,” he says.

“Of course we were. Me and your dad loved each other very much. I still love him.” Megumi looks over at you as you say those last words. You still hold so much hope and love in your heart and that tells him maybe he should let this resentment for his father go. Maybe it was time to move on.

“Was this my birthday?” He questions, looking at the family photo your mother took of you three that day. He could see a faint smile on his father’s face, looking at the way Toji held him so close in his arms.

“Your very first birthday. So many good memories. Despite the fact you threw up on your dad’s shirt,” you laughed.

“Really?!” Megumi smiles. You nod, still giggling. “Yikes, he must’ve been pissed.”

“At first he was mad, but then saw you started crying after and felt horrible. I remember his exact words, ‘Stop crying, little man. You can throw up on this shirt a thousand times if you want to.’ He could never stay mad at you.” You brush his cheek, watching his smile get wider and wider.

He finally gets to the last picture. One you took of Toji asleep with Megumi on his chest. “I took that picture after it took him three hours to get you to sleep. You didn’t want to sleep in your crib, kept crying and crying and finally your father just fell asleep with you on his chest.” You watch as he runs his thumb over the picture, observing it more than he did the other ones. “You can keep it if you want.”

“Really?” He glanced at you, a desperate look in his eye.

“Of course.” You kissed his cheek. “I have more we can look at later.”

Megumi nods. There’s a moment of silence as he sits and goes through the pictures again, almost like he’s reliving memories he had no recollection of. “So, you really don’t know if he’s alive or not?”

You shake your head. “Like I said, what your father did caused him to get caught up with the wrong people, making enemies out of anyone. He was never scared of them, of course. But he knew if they ever found out about you or me, it wouldn’t end well.,” you explained. “I wish I knew.”

“Is it weird that I miss him?” He turned towards you, confused. “How can I miss someone I don’t even remember?” His eyes became teary.

“Oh, Megs.” You wiped his tears. “It’s not weird at all, sweetheart. I’m sure he misses you too. A whole lot.” You give him a sad smile.

He sniffles, looking down at the pictures. It was like he finally felt this weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. After years of this gut wrenching feeling, he finally knows the truth. His father did love you. Love him. He no longer felt casted aside. And that feeling gave him hope that maybe he’s still out there, still alive.

[norrisainz33]

friend of a friend || MV33

☆ summary: max meets his dream girl through his friends good friend, pato o’ward

☆ pairing: max verstappen x mexican!reader

☆ fc & warnings: gala montes & poorly translated spanish and slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! thank you for requesting and apologies for the delay 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, redbullracing, schecoperez, charlesleclerc and 547,936 others

maxverstappen1: enjoying some much needed sun and relaxation before we head to vegas 😴

view all 999 comments

user1: max i’ll meow if you need another cat

user2: i’m sorry who in the heck is in the last slide

user4: is he soft launching rn??? at a time like this???

user6: so this is why he still looks happy despite rbr woes

user7: is that his girlfriend?!

user8: max please give us the tea

user9: f1gossip im begging you to figure out who this is

redbullracing: happy you’re getting some r&r max 🤍

ynuser: mi novio es tan bonito [my boyfriend is so pretty]

[liked by maxverstappen1]

user9: now hold up ….. who is this and why did max like

f1gossip: taking note of this interaction

user12: ugh she’s private so we can’t even snoop but she’s followed by pato and elba oward, carlos, rebecca, rbr and checo

user13: this is pato and elba’s childhood friend!!! she’s good friends with them

user12: everyone say thank you user13

user3: the shirtless photos?? the soft launch??? how am i supposed to be normal

charlesleclerc: 👀

user4: i’m gonna miss ur fine ass when i scroll

user5: sometimes you just gotta say damn and move on

ynuser has added to their story 🔒

[staying here forever]

view all story replies

yourbff: in monaco???? no gracias. you can’t leave me like that 😭

ynuser: yes monaco!! it is so beautiful 🥹

yourbff: you’re not just saying that because of a certain man?

ynuser: oh no i am saying that bc of a certain man 😮‍💨 he is a dream come true bestie

yourbff: ugh do elba and pato have any other hot millionaire friends they could set me up with???

ynuser: i’ll ask them im sure they do

yourbff: preferably one who’s name rhymes with pranko dolapinto

ynuser: HAHAHA mi amiga

carlossainz55: te gusta monaco? [you like monaco?]

ynuser: yes!! i love it. you, me, rebecca and max should grab dinner one night while im here!!

carlossainz55: i’d love that

maxverstappen1: you can always move 🤷🏻‍♂️

ynuser: maybe one day 🤔

elbaoward: my work here is done 🥹

ynuser: you are a magician. how’d you know we were perfect for each other?

elbaoward: bc i know my best friend 🤍

ynuser: te amo elba 🫶🏻

redbullracing: can’t wait to see you in vegas!

patriciooward has made a post

liked by ynuser, elbaoward, yourbff, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 321,345 others

patriciooward: gentle mornings with my hermanas

view all 223 comments

user12: oh max is in the likes 👀

ynuser: why do you insist on picking the worst photos

patriciooward: it’s my brand

elbaoward: 💁🏻‍♀️

maxverstappen1: send me the last pic

patriciooward: done!

ynuser: PATO wtf

user12: user13 you were right

user1: oh to have gentle mornings with pato 😭

user3: i love that he calls y/n his sister too

ynuser has made a post 🔒

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad, patriciooward, and 313 others

ynuser: la vida últimamente [life lately]

view all 22 comments

yourbff: ugh the red hair suits you

ynuser: i agree 🥹

maxverstappen1: prettiest girl in the whole world

ynuser: mi amor 🥹 i love you 🤍

maxverstappen1: te amo

elbaoward: the spanish 😭🥹🩷

maxverstappen1: i’m working on it!

iamrebeccad: dinner last night was so fun. let’s do it again 🤍

ynuser: i’d love that!! see you in vegas darling

patriciooward: oh so you’ll post but not answer my texts

ynuser: yes exactly

friend1: hermosa chica [beautiful girl]

maxverstappen1 has posted to his story

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user2: max emilian the man that you are

user4: screaming crying throwing up. i can’t believe he’s off the market

ynuser: my man my man my man 😍

maxverstappen1: that’s me baby

ynuser: thanks for inviting me to vegas with you

maxverstappen1: schjate you’re invited everywhere with me. i never want to be without you

ynuser: omg you big softie

charlesleclerc: oh she’s got you dressing up now too?

maxverstappen1: i want to look nice for my girl what can i say

charlesleclerc: oh he’s in love

maxverstappen1: 🤭 maybe

user5: i ! can’t believe you’re not wearing skinny jeans. the power she must have

schecoperez: i like this girl 😉

maxverstappen1: me too

user6: the emoji???????? max i’m speechless who are you

ynuser has added multiple stories 🔒

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yourbff: god you’re gorgeous. have so much fun at the race baby

ynuser: thank you bebe. vegas is amazing - i am having the best time

yourbff: living vicariously through you 🥹

maxverstappen1: you have no business looking this good especially when there’s nothing i can do about it 😫

ynuser: win me the race and you can have me as a prize later 😉

maxverstappen1: you got it baby

elbaoward: are you in red bull hospitality??? come to mclaren i want to see youuuuu

ynuser: yes i’m in red bull but will cross enemy lines for you gorgeous

patriciooward: hermana donde estas? [sister where are you?]

ynuser: omw patito

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, yourbff, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 7,234 others

f1gossip: in an interview earlier today max confirmed his relationship with, y/n y/l/n. y/n is childhood friends with elba and pato o’ward and it turns out that the siblings introduced max and y/n in miami earlier this season. the pair hit it off immediately according to max and “it was the closest thing to love at first sight he’d ever experienced.” she’s in attendance today at the grand prix! let us know if you get the chance to meet her and if there’s any further intel you get

view all 271 comments

user1: ohhhhh max 🥹

user2: this interview melted my heart. he looked so genuinely happy to be talking about her

user7: i love seeing him happy

user3: i’m obsessed with them already. perhaps my new favorite wag

user4: love at first sight???? i’m not crying! you are!!

user6: the way max also talked about trying to learn spanish for her because she’s mexican and how he’s also trying to teach her some of his language too 🥹😭

user8: this is the sweetest thing. that is true love idc what any of yall say

user5: i hope a love like this finds me one day

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by ynuser, yourbff, schecoperez, alex_albon, patriciooward, and 645,123 others

maxverstappen1: vegas you were a fun one - thanks for having me and y/n/n!

view all 546 comments

user2: y/n/n 😭

user4: crying my eyes out

user6: yayyy maxie!!! glad to see you on the podium again

ynuser: te amo mucho vegas 🤍

maxverstappen1: and you te amo mucho me too right?

ynuser: omg yes maxie. i love you endlessly

user14: SIMP

user15: max asking for validation has done something to me.

charlesleclerc: great drive max!

patriciooward: take care of my girl ok?

maxverstappen1: you got it pato! no need to worry

redbullracing: our champion 💪🏻

user8: jealousy isn’t cute on me but here we are

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! reblogs, feedback and likes are very appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[crazyvik97rpg]

Grandma Lillian showing up was honestly the most pleasant surprise – Sebastian hadn’t expected her at all. She herself had to deal with rough health problems lately, she was over 80 years old and it’s also been the reason they didn’t celebrate Christmas at her place last time. Her being here cheered Sebastian up a lot. They didn’t see each other often as it was.

They had a lot of catching up to do, to say the least. She got herself a chair and sat right next to Sebastian’s bed and they just…talked. A lot. About everything that happened. Grandma Lillian had been quite shocked about the news to say the least – she said herself, being sick by 80 was not unusual. 30 however? That was simply terrible! Sebastian still had his whole life ahead of himself – after that terrible drug–scare no less.

Well, they both could agree to that anyway – Sebastian couldn’t deny that it was something he never ever wanted to experience and yet he was here. He told his grandma everything – the appointments, the diagnosis, the whole process of arranging more tests, that William managed it all for him. How they even spotted the mole in the first place. She knew about Sebastian’s „new“ boyfriend, however never managed to meet him before – she often heard things about him at least. Cynthia loved him a lot – and that was saying something!

„And William said I should have it looked at because it looked so strange. Nothing he‘d ever seen before on me, at least. And it was for the better, he probably even saved my life that way…“, he sighed.

„Well, good thing you have such an attentive young man, dear. You men usually overlook these things, are you getting checked regularly? Well from now on I hope you do that“, she said as she held Sebastian’s hand. They spoke about lots of other things too though. It seemed William was a little late today, it was half past 4pm when the door suddenly opened.

They were in the middle of the conversation when William barged into the room, apologizing for being late. He was cute, really, kind of in a rush – Sebastian smiled at him and motioned to him to just come closer after he came to a halt, once he noticed the other visitor in the room with them. „Oh love, there you are…I already started wondering when you might show up“, he smiled and his grandma too looked up now, smiling as well. She figured out right away who that was – so she got to meet the new boyfriend after all.

„Grandma, that’s William. William, that’s my grandma Lillian. Mom‘s side“, Sebastian introduced them quickly. Lillian stood up for a moment, so they could actually shake hands properly: „It’s so lovely to finally meet you, William. I would have loved to in different circumstances, I have to admit“.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[theereina]

Never Coming Home

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, death, angst, heartbreak, murder, Rebel Ridge alternate ending, religion mentioned

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

1 month ago

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ring ring ring

ring ring ring

“Mmm… fuck,” I groaned, turning over in my sleep. I yawned as I reached to grab my cell phone from the nightstand. I looked at the phone to see a number I didn't recognize.

I answered the phone and slowly raised it to my ear. The digital clock by the lamp read 3:24 a.m. “Hello, Lily speaking. Who is—”, I said before being interrupted. The loud sound of rustling came through the phone. “Is anyone there?” I asked, becoming a little worried.

I could hear someone on the other end breathing heavily. It sounded like they were running. “Fuck!” I heard the person say through the phone. Was that— Terry? I sat up in bed, throwing my legs over the side. My feet hit the floor with force. “Terry, is that you?!” I yelled, clutching my chest.

I stood from the bed. “Lily!” he shouted into the phone. I could still hear him panting. “Baby, talk to me!” I screamed as worry filled my heart. I began pacing the floor back and forth. I could hear the sounds on the phone beginning to drown out. He was losing signal wherever he was. Static was crackling through now.

“Lily,… I… lo… you… I'm… ry,” Terry tried to say. It was so broken that I was struggling to understand him. It sounded like he said he loved me. “Honey, I love you, too!” I said, pausing to hear him speak. “I should… lis… to you. Just… kn… I'll… al… love you,” Terry said, sobbing.

Terry and I had been together for over 4 years and married for 1, and I had never heard him cry. He was in serious trouble, and I couldn't do anything about it. Before I could speak again, I heard three loud popping noises.

pop pop pop

Gunshots!

“Terry!” I yelled. “Shit!” Terry grumbled. He was panicking and sounded absolutely terrified. This absolute rock of a man was scared for his life. “If… don't ma… home, —,” Terry began before more shots rang out. I could hear what sounded like the phone hitting the ground. Leaves began rustling and boot steps were closing in. Terry's breathing became erratic and raspy, and I could hear a gurgling sound.

“Marston, he's right here. He's hit!” yelled a male voice. “Good! That'll teach that fucker,” said a second male voice. I could hear the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping as someone got closer to the phone. I muted the phone before letting out the loudest cry I ever had. There's no way I just heard this. “Check his pulse,” said the second male voice. “He's—,” said the first male. “Oh, well!” laughed the second male.

hawk tuah

“Good riddance. See you in hell, bud. Hahahaha!” laughed the second man. “Marston, don't you think that was a little dumb? I mean you did just spit on his dead body,” said the first male. “Spit on who's body? Ah, hell. Marston, you dumb fuck! You were supposed to catch him not kill him,” said a third man. “Too late for that Chief Burnne, hahaha!” he laughed.

Present Day

“The body’s in here. All you have to do is identify it,” said the medical examiner. “I don't think I can do this,” I said sobbing.

Just looking at the white sheet made my heart shatter. The outline of the body made me sick to my stomach. I knew it was him, but due to formalities, I had to say it was. I was being forced to face the one thing I had avoided for the last month. The realization that Terry was dead.

Entering this room would seal my fate. My husband was gone, and he was never coming home.

The fluorescent lighting illuminated the cold white room. The air inside was suffocating and intolerable. As I was standing there, the medical examiner walked around me. He approached the body slowly. Upon passing, his arm shifted the sheet. It pulled it down just enough for me to see the top of the head to above the eyebrow. Before I could close my eyes, I saw the healed scar on Terry’s forehead. It rested at the front of the right side (his right, my left) of his hairline. A small scar he got from an accident a few years ago.

It was him. As much as my heart wanted to deny it, there was no denying that. It had been a long gruesome month filled with nothing but crying, screaming, and pain.

“I can give you a moment,” the medical examiner said, peering over his glasses at me. “No!— Let's… let's… I feel like I'm gonna vomit. Let's just get this over with. I don't think I can take this any longer,” I said. My arms were crossed over my abdomen. I closed my eyes tightly as I was dreading this moment. I knew whatever was under this sheet would replace the most recent image I had left of Terry.

I could hear the rustling of the sheet being pulled back. I shuddered at the thought of what came next. My breath felt sharp and heavy. I could feel the tears falling from my eyes. I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. I needed to get this over with and put this all behind me. “I'm okay. I got this,” I whispered, opening my eyes.

The sight before me broke my heart even more. After all this time of guessing and assuming what Terry would look like, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw. His face was almost unrecognizable— swollen, bruised, and battered. An array of blues and purples plastered his brown skin. His face and chest were covered in small cuts from running through the woods. The top of a large exit wound rested at the edge of where the sheet stopped at his chest.

This! This would be the final image I had of my husband. Never in a million years would I have thought this would be how I lost my husband— murdered. To think that Terry went through hell in his last moments hurts me— beaten, chased, and shot like an animal. I always told Terry his big heart and demand for justice would be the death of him. Now, he was never coming home.

I slowly approached his body. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I couldn't. My hands were trembling. “It's okay. Take your time. I can leave for a moment if you tell…,” he said. “Yes, it's… it's him,” I said. These were the words I had been dreading for a month. The medical examiner nodded before leaving the room. This feeling of— trepidation overcame me. My heart, mind, and body were all collapsing simultaneously. As I got closer to Terry's body, I was overwhelmed by the smell of antiseptics and flesh. It was clear that the time between the murder and now had taken its toll on Terry's decomposing body.

I reached out again, touching his cheek. It was cold and hard. I pulled my hand back. There was nothing familiar or sentient about him. His once radiant face was stiff and unbalanced. That once joyous smile was replaced by a permanent scowl. He had been reduced to nothing more than the aftermath of someone else's wickedness and immorality, a rigid pile of flesh and bones.

Anger began to course through me at the thought of why they did it. How could you do this to someone? All in the name of corruption and ego. A sob escaped my throat, festering with rage and sadness. The sound I let out released only a fraction of the emotions I felt in the last month.

I couldn't believe that I was alone. I would have to deal with all of this myself. Our plans no longer aligned with what I was being forced to live. How could Terry do this to me? The amount of hate in my heart had reduced my faith to absolutely nothing. Why did God let this happen? Even after all of my praying, I was left with this— no husband, no family, and a broken heart.

I looked down at my belly as I rubbed my hands across my abdomen. The tears streamed incessantly down my face. It became too surreal as reality set in. The numbness of the feeling that I would have to raise a child alone was unbearable. A child we planned would never meet their father, and why? How did I deserve this? How did WE?

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @cocooned-butterfly @ariiijestertheklown

@miyuhpapayuh @armandosbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites

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[nevertheless-moving]

Considering the amount of emotional and moral nuance he managed to muster up immediately post Guanyin temple (despite having a terrible week and zero good role models) AND considering his front row seat to the dissection of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian’s downfall, I think that in a time travel fix-it, Jin Ling would actually be pretty successful at brute forcing yunmeng family therapy.

I mean he'd probably cry, but even that would be good! Because 1) modeling negative male emotions beside anger, and 2) Oh shit that’s shije’s kid we made Shije’s son cry, fuck, fuck! Bam! Instant high ground! Also he has the most authority of any second gen character by virtue of the fact that he could pull “DO YOU WANT MY MOM TO DIE??? BECAUSE YOU TWO ACTING LIKE MORONS IS WHAT GOT MY MOM KILLED! NOW SIT DOWN AND SPIT OUT ALL YOUR FUCKING SECRETS OR MY MOM WILL DIE AND I’LL BREAK YOUR LEGS!!” It would work! Tell me it wouldn't work!

Not to mention once he gets a few sect leader years under his belt, he might be the best person to manage a fix-it, in general. He's got perspective. He's got political training. Others might get too caught up on the specifics of the Wen remnants or the Ying Tiger Tally or Vengeance against One Person or Another — Jin Ling is critiquing the basic structure of how Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are living their lives and he's getting away with it.

He would even be good at dealing with Jin Guangyao, the slipperiest motherfucker in the timeline. Jin Ling's got as good a handle as anyone on his motivations, and he has sincere (if messy) affection for him, which would hit Guangyao right in his weak spot. Depending on your headcanons it may or may not be in vain, but he's got a real chance of getting the man to set some more modest and less destructive life goals.

Similarly, I think he'd do a pretty decent job at a harsh-but-fair critique of Xichen's neutrality and Mingue's rigidity and Huissang's delibrate uselessness, though getting them to listen would be more of a crapshoot.

All of this makes it especially funny how badly he would handle Wangxian.

For context: Wei Ying and Hunguang-jun are not just the gayest people Jin Ling has ever met, they are the gayest people he's ever HEARD of.

He wouldn't want to bring it up. He wouldn't mean to. He doesn't want to talk about it. But when he inevitably calls Wei Ying a slur only to be met with genuine bafflement? Jin Ling would completely lose his shit.

Because I don't think Wei Ying is going to get offended, or defensive, or have a response that his nephew could coherently mock. Wei Wuxian thinks 'hey these time traveling guys are actually pretty funny!' Him and Whom? Not even a serious topic of contention. You got me for a second, haha.

Jin Ling would break. Wei Ying eventually says something the effect of "I'm straight? Obviously?" and Jin Ling would nod once, start screaming, then climb across the table to strangle him.

It's — look. How do you fucking explain that all of the worst moments of your life were, in someway or another, characterized by Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanjii being FLAMBOYANTLY into one another.

The man who saved his life also killed his father and Jin Ling stabs him but it feels awful and — ok Lan Wanjii is cradling Wei Wuxian tenderly. Ok they're just going to go. They're leaving like that. Hunguang Jun was — is — was the Yiling Patriarch's widow, so that's another layer to add onto everything else. Hunguang-Jun is visibly expressing emotions with his face and voice and Jin Ling is going to go throw up now

Jin Ling's kidnapped at the burial mounds and everyone’s lost their spiritual energy and all his friends and family are going to die and — those two are smiling at eachother. They're telling inside jokes. They're holding hands.

Jin disciples (his own clans disciples) just shot at him and and Xiao-shushu really is what people sa— WEI YING SHOUTS ABOUT WANTING TO FUCK LAN WANJII

THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF BEING KIDNAPPED AND HE DOES THIS

Jujiu is bleeding from the stomach and crying he's bleeding and crying his jujiu is doing that and Xiao-shushu caused it and his whole life is a lie and Hunguang Jun and the Yiling Patriarch are visibly groping in a corner.

And then they never stop groping again. Forever.

So yeah, I'm quite confident that if Jin Ling had to be even peripherally involved with coaching Wei Wuxian through a bisexual awakening and homoerotic courtship, he would explode. He would black out with rage. He'd make an honest and embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt at killing Lan Zhan. He would walk into a lotus pond and stay there until he drowned. He'd start heavy drinking. He'd punch a random passerby in the dick.

In conclusion, Need More Jin Ling Time Travel Fics

[sainzfav]

❝︎ must be fate ❞︎ … joe burrow pt.1

left you out there standing

summary - after a tragic loss to the ravens, joe finds himself pissed and frustrated. on the contrary, a marylander visiting her parents, getting a break from the busy new york life finds herself crossing paths with a certain quarter back

pairing - joe burrow x fem!reader

song inspo - n/a

warnings! - cursing, alcohol

word count - 1.4K

authors note - this takes place at the november 7th, 2024 game when the bengals played the ravens!

"Fuck"

Joe said under his breath. The Bengals lost 35-34 to the Ravens.

"It's just an away game, man, we'll get them next time, trust," Alex said, coming up behind Joe.

"Alex, we were up for half the fucking game, then because we got lazy, we lost," Joe said, pissed off about the outcome of the game.

It was true; they got lazy. It started off great for the Bengals. The Ravens weren't playing well, and that was enough to get two touchdowns ahead, but the fourth quarter came, and the Bengals got lazy. Even when the Ravens threw a touchdown pass instead of wasting time, leaving the Bengals with about a minute of playtime, the Bengals still managed to lose.

"I don't want to hear any fucking excuses, we lost cause we were dumb and lazy, now get out of my face."

Joe's tone was sharp and angry. There was no "bright side" to this situation. They had the perfect opportunity to win and didn't take it.

-

*liked by alexconsani, charlidamelio, and 1.6M+ others*

ynofficial gotta love a w

"Wow Y/n, over 1.5 mill already, you're insane"

Y/n whipped her head around.

"Maya, you're fucking joking... 1.5 million?! There's no way"

"How are you surprised? People love a good casual post, anyway, what's the plan for tonight? Are we going out, back to your parent's house? What are we doing?"

"I feel like we have to go out, right? Plus, I wanna show you the bars around Baltimore. We could do a little bar hopping night, how does that sound?"

"Oh my god, perf" Maya exclaims, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Maya and Y/n had been friends since college, and she was truly the one person who treated Y/n like a normal person.

Y/n then connected her phone to the car to play her music through.

"Play some Pitbull, I want to get hype for the bars," Maya says loudly from the backseat. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes while finding a good Pitbull song to put on.

-

"Joe, some of the guys and I are going out, how about you join us. I know it was a shitty game, but going to a bar or somethin' is probably better than sitting alone like a loner," Tee says, reaching to the seat in front of him, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"I'll think about it"

"Well, hurry up, cause once we get back to the hotel, we're all gonna shower and get ready and shit to go out"

"Yeah, alright"

Joe was honestly not as much of a "going out" person as some of his other teammates, but going out to distract from the shit game that just happened did seem appealing.

-

The sound of the music and conversation filled Y/n's ears the second she and Maya stepped into the bar. The electric atmosphere was impossible to ignore, and a feeling of excitement flooded over Y/n.

"This is the best bar in Baltimore; the vibes are always so good, and their drinks are the best," Y/n tells Maya.

After about 45 minutes, Maya is gone, nowhere to be seen, leaving Y/n on a bar stool as she drinks the last of her vodka cranberry.

Just as Y/n is about to order another drink, she feels a presence next to her. She turns her head and notices a familiar figure.

Joe fucking Burrow?! Y/n thinks to herself. What a coincidence, holy shit.

Joe Burrow was the last person Y/n expected to see at a bar. Actually, she hadn't even thought about it once, but here she was.

He looked pretty pissed, which made sense after tonight's game. Just then, a loud voice came closer to where Y/n was sitting.

"Joe! Whatcha order?"

It was Tee Higgins, whose mood was the complete opposite of Joe's.

"I don't know, hey... Mike? What's your best drink?" Joe asks the bartender, reading the name tag.

"It's basic, but how about an Old Fashioned? Can't go wrong with that"

"Yeah, alright, I'll have that"

Joe then glances over and gives Y/n a weak smile, then looks down to notice her Ray Lewis jersey, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the bar table.

Y/n notices his face and immediately feels awkward.

"Would you like another vodka cranberry miss?" The bartender asks

"Oh, uh, yes, please, that would be great!" Y/n says, getting caught off guard by the bartender, still feeling awkward about sitting next to Joe.

Should have planned to go out and wear something other than a fucking jersey. This is so fucking awkward.

"Good night for you guys, huh?" Joe suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence between the two.

"Yeah, and rough one for you?"

"Yup. So, you from around here? Not to be weird or anything"

Y/n smirks at his comment. For a star, Quarter Back, he's a little awkward and shy.

"Sorta, I mean, I'm from Maryland, Annapolis to be specific, but I live in New York"

"Oh nice, what brought you to New York?"

"Work, I'm an actress, so everything I do is pretty much over there and on occasion, LA"

Never in a million years did I think I would be making small talk with Joe Burrow at a local bar in Baltimore, but here we are.

"Oh sick, how is that life? It seems like it would be crazy"

Y/n chuckles at his response. Being an actress is not a normal job by any means, and it's always so chaotic, but it's Y/n's passion.

"It is, but I wouldn't give it up for the world"

"That's pretty cool"

Just then a loud, drunk Maya comes over.

"Holy shit, Y/n, I met the hottest guy, and he bought me a drink, but then it turns out he has a girlfriend, well, they also just broke up because he bought me a drink, and oh my god, is that Joe Burrow?"

Joe starts laughing a little while Y/n covers her face in embarrassment. Maya was probably the most outgoing person Y/n knew. She was never afraid to speak her every thought, which sometimes led to awkwardness.

"Y/n, pretty name"

Y/n blushes at Joe's compliment, catching her completly off guard.

"Thanks," She says kindly, still partially embarrassed of Maya's story.

"Well, if you don't mind, Joe Burrow, I'm taking my best friend dancing, so kiss your goodbyes, and Y/n lets go"

"Hold on, let me get your number. I've had a shitty day on top of a shitty week, and our conversation, although short, has been nice."

Was Joe Burrow really asking for my number?

"Uh, yeah"

He then gives Y/n his phone for her to type in her number. After she adds her contact, Maya practically pulls her arm off, dragging her away from the bar, leaving her drink and Joe behind.

-

The next day, Y/n woke up to a line of texts from Maya.

Maya: Heyyyy, Y/n, so I know I said I would get an Uber back to your house, but I'm at a guy's apartment right now.

Maya: You up, Y/n? I assume you're still in bed, actually, but I'm at this guy Derek's apartment, just letting you know.

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Well, love you, I'll be back at your parents sometime today.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Y/n rubs her eyes, trying to wake up more and make sense of Maya.

Just then she get's another text.

Rolling her eyes, expecting Maya, she checks her texts.

Instead, it's an unnamed number.

(513)111-1111: Hey, it's Joe!

Y/n sits up immediately. Sure, she gave him her number, but she didn't expect him to actually text her.

Holy shit

Y/n: Hey! It's Y/n

Joe: Yeah, I remember haha

Joe: Also, how's your friend? I saw you leaving the bar, but she stayed with this guy, who, and I mean no disrespect, looked like a douche...

Y/n: She's fine, at least I'm pretty sure. She texted me this morning that she's at this guy Derek's house, and she seems fine. She said she'll be coming back to my parent's house sometime today. All is good, haha. Thanks for asking, though!

Joe: Okay that's good. Well I gotta do some shit for press, but I'll talk to you later, Y/n.

Y/n: Have fun! ;)

And with that, Y/n turns off her phone, all of a sudden smelling the sweet smell of bacon from downstairs.

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Damien Quotes

i want him to chuck a water bottle at me ♥︎

“You are a person that is overflowing with love to give, and that is not too much, that is fucking beautiful.”

“I’m not going to get mad, I just want to know who did this to you.”

“My fire is a part of me.”

“I can do good. That’s all I want to do. I want to help.”

“Now who whimpers?”

“Well if you four would stop teasing me, I could stop doing my best impression of a furnace.”

“I have never felt more flaccid in my entire life.”

“Oh, he thinks I’m funny when I’m mad? Huxley has no idea what I look like when I’m mad.”

“C’mon nature boy, let’s get natural.”

“Handsome man [he’s saying this with a :3 on his face you can’t convince me otherwise]”

“Huxley, I need you.”

“I want all this anger to mean something.”

“I can walk.”

“You’re always so gentle with me. With everything. I-I’m not used to that.”

“Body like yours needs a little worship, you know?”

“Yeah. I’m fine… I’m freaking out.”

“A-are you gonna serve, or what? [he’s too busy gawking at Huxley’s muscles to realise he’s holding the ball himself, not Hux]”

“The rolls aren’t aerodynamic enough. I can’t get enough speed behind them.”

“Huxley seems to think threats are a way I express love.”

“Who. Was. It?”

“I’ve gotten pretty good at screaming at walls.”

“You remember that positive outlook when you’re ripping out your happy trail trying to get dried cum out of it.”

“I spent a lot of nights thinking about all the stuff this body of yours could do.”

“Hey. I don’t just care about it as a morally wrong action for the sake of it. I care about you. You’re my friend. A good one. And my friend is hurting, and I can do something about it, so I’m going to.”

“You are the person I choose. And I’m so fucking grateful that you’ve chosen me.”

“He [Huxley] does make it hard to get mad at him, even when he is doing something asinine. It’s like trying to stay mad at a puppy. Just doesn’t feel right.”

“The bear’s cute… For the record though, you’re the only teddy bear I need.”

“I’m made of tough stuff too Hux… and I like it rough…”

“All I can think about is worshipping this incredible body of yours.”

“It’s all yours.”

“God I love how big your hands are.”

“I don’t whimper [proceeds to whimper]… only with you.”

“Pick me up. Turn us around. Press me into the wall. And fuck me.”

“Yeah we’ll see how great you think I look when I set your hair on fire.”

“Just because I usually want you to top, doesn’t mean I don’t love your ass.”

“I wanna feel every fucking inch of this monster.”

“Ugh I laid down on your cum and I’m pretty sure we’re glued together now.”

“All mine huh?”

“Huxley. Fuck me. I wanna cum with your cock buried inside me all the way to the base.”

“I’ll trade you goofballs.”

“Cute glasses.”

Honourable Mentions (Non-Canon)

“I’ve had friends before. I’ve never had a friend that I felt as close to as I do to you.”

“You feel good. Except your hair’s trying to go up my nose.”

“Fuck. God, you drive me crazy with just a touch. Just a look, honestly.”

“Now gimme.”

“If you wanna know which one I’d prefer, ask me. Directly.”

“Do you think this is what they meant when they say ‘Light a fire under your ass’?”

“Yes, I’d say my fire likes you very much.”

[icarusredwings]

FINE ill review it DAMN

Review of hellraiser heartbreaker

Playlist:

Murder on the Dancefloor - Sophie Ellis Bextor

Tommy Gun - Royal Republic

Do I Wanna Know - Arctic Monkeys

Tell Me The Truth - Two Feet

Undisclosed Desires - Muse

Jolene - Beyonce

I Wanna Be Yours - Foxy Shazam

Chapter 1.

Yoo lmao young wolvie is like "whats wrong with this guy?" And wades SOOO excited to be beat the shit out of.

"Let my babt boy go >:( you big meanies" ahh wade you silly thing.

Sokay baby boy dawww

Flirty kitty it is

Remeber kiddos introducing two wolverines in a very small area is NOT advised. Young wolvie is like a kitten, his hair going up and growling because hes scared and Logan growling to admit dominance and maturity over him. Jeez lousie.

"Ahahah behave" wade honey I bet logan loves when you defend his place in your life.

Chapter 2.

Oooh what a good start I love how hes sitting here staring at wade because he knows him and logan is NOT having it. He knows what young pups try to do, they try to steal your mate and hes not about to let that happen.

Pfft logan really said "ah hell nah id fuck anything back then im coming too"

THEY FUCKING VAN GOUGHED ME HAS TO BE ONE OF THE BEST LINES EVER

“This is why you’re my favorite.”

Logan tried hard not to smirk at that. He failed.

That right there confirms that wade KNOWS logan is jealous already and is lowkey trying hard not to entice younger wolverine too much because he knows he's gonna kill him.

I should thank Wade then. I should thank him very thoroughly .”

Oh so youve chosen death little one?

"Gotcha you pointy little bitch!" Me at my splinters.

Aww man wade is being so careful with both of them, hes just less careful with you logan cause your younger has a collar on right now thats all.

Did you forget your wade is one of the top mercs there is? He never has NOT gotten a job done, which means handling wolvie with care you stupid old man.

Chapter 3.

Yo he already said no once. Leave it.

He finna kill you, you better start acting right.

“I said no.” There was no hint of playfulness or friendliness there. Just finality. It was enough to make Wolverine back down.

See? I told you. God you little degenerate. You need trained that no means no sheesh.

Yeah those hips are quick but they aint for you

Awwww logan got him rabbits like a good hound dog. Bro really said "man I need to impress my mate lemme go kill some innocent rabbits to eat"

Finding food and showing how reliable he could be to Wade.

“Oh Logan,” that was a new tone from Wade. Affectionate. Directed at Logan. Not at him.

Yes exactly.

Wade brought me home

He sure as fuck did. He might as well collar you with his name on it too. Big strong boy. All jealous of a little inexperienced wolvie. Psshh lets be so for real.

“I don't see a ring, asshole.”

“Don't. Fucking. Touch. Him.”

ALEXA!! PLAY SINGLE LADIES FOR THE EPIC FIGHT THATS ABOUTA HAPPENA

Suddenly, the tip of a katana pushed against Logan’s cheek.

“What did I say about fighting?” Wade panted, his white eyes glaring. There was that seriousness in his voice again. Logan rolled his eyes at him. The katana pushed into Logan’s cheek until a trail of blood came out.

tHIS IS WHAT I KEEP SAYING!! wade does NOT fuck around when it comes to jobs! He was taught and trained to ALWAYS finish the job. Hes terrifying bro I would literally kill myself if I knew this man was after me because id be afraid hed play with me and not kill me fast enough.

Both of you need to settle your shit. I can’t have you guys fucking my mission up

Exhibit B. Do NOT come between an adhd man and his dopamine and his dopamine is finishing missions and getting cash.

Ooh my poor baby though. Like seriously you need a shock collar and maybe neutered bc holy hell no is non existent to you but you just miss your own. Its a shame yours always dies. Its really not fair. But you cant just go stealing other peoples wades either. Hes limited edition baby. If him and his poolcule dont invite you you cant touchy.

Got inspired by PrettyPonyRideToHell’s fic Hellraiser, Heartbreaker

Never knew I needed Worst Wolvie having to deal with his little shit, younger self and with Wade ofc caught in the middle 😌✨

[tiredsmashbros]

DO YOU ENJOY THE GREAT GATBSY TSB

guys help this blue man in a box keeps yapping to me about this silly movie and musical called the great gatsby what do i do /j

NAH FR THO TY FOR GETTING ME INTO THE GREAT GATSBY BLUE THIS HAS NOW BEEN LISTED AS MY FAV MOVIE AND I AM SLOWLY GETTING INTO THE FIXATION INTO THE MUSICAL GUH ITS SO GOOD PLEASE GO HAVE A LISTEN GUYS !!!

also btw blue is gonna be so surprised by the smg3 drawing i've only had the sketch but now decided to color it bc why now :3c

ALSO !!!! THIS IMAGE IS INSPIRED BY BLUEBOX'S OWN GREAT GATSBY SMG4 MUSICAL AU !!!! PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT IF YOU HAVEN'T !!!!!!!!! https://www.tumblr.com/bluesbox/759605946711506944/i-would-like-to-add-my-hat-into-the-ring-with-smg4

also i cant for the life of me find the og psd file of this but thankfully i took a screenshot of this silly doodle i made bc blue and i watched the great gatsby togther and we.... made a tsb au out it HELP I LOVE THE GREAT GATSBY SO MUCH JAY MY BELOVEDDDD

also very random butt AS I WAS JUST ABOUT THIS POST THIS DAWKO SIGNED MY PRINT AND I NEED TO SHOW IT OFF OH MY GOD I AM SO HAPPY HELP AND RIGHT AS HE WAS RUNNING OUT HOLY SHIT I WAS ONE OF THE LAST ONES OH MY GOD I DONT HAVE TO WAIT FOR LONG YIPPEEEEEEE

ty my beloved british rat 💛

i have been waiting 2 years for this reprint you guys have no idea how actually happy i am to get my chance back at this poster again

[desertduality]

Trustfall

Ao3

Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3

Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.

He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.

The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.

He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.

Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.

Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.

A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.

Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.

Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.

"Stargazing?"

Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"

"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."

Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-

"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.

"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"

"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."

Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.

They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.

"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.

"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."

Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.

"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."

"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."

He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.

Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.

"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."

"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."

"They make medicine for that."

"Wh- Scar!"

Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...

"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."

"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."

"And me?"

"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."

Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.

Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.

"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"

Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.

"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."

Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.

Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.

I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.

"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"

"That's right."

They go back to bed.

[eternal-love]

Lover, you’re on your own

Pairings: Austin Butler x Female!Reader

Summary: After years of your divorce, Austin and you get in each other’s way again. Catch up, know what happened in last few years.

Author’s note: I don’t even know what this plot is but I kinda liked the idea of Austin and Reader finding themselves again. I kinda liked it, idk.

Warning: mentions of divorce, unhealthy relationships, children loss, spousal death, the reader’s been through a shit ton of divorces.

You were inside a café in New York City, enjoying being in your own for a while. After another hectic divorce, the choice of going to a bar wasn’t even on your mind anymore.

You started to wonder if you were cursed, you didn’t even care to count how many divorces you’ve had in the last thirteen years. Were you really never good enough to be a long time wife? Or did faith have something else for you in store? Whatever it was, life treated you like trash.

You drank your coffee quietly as she scrolled through your phone, you heard the door of the café open and close. You were very perceptive of who came in, who left, who coughed, who laughed. And once you saw who came in, you had to do a double take.

You knew that guy— man. He wasn’t a young guy anymore but a man. Austin. All those years ago and you still remembered him. Of course you had seen his rapid success these last years, he was everywhere. But you were in his past and you understood it. You didn’t expect anything but you wouldn’t lie if you said you didn’t want him to at least recognize you, wave at you or at least smile and nod his head.

You focused on your overpriced coffee and muffin, stealing gentle glances towards him. Until one time, you both made eye contact, he was going to turn back to his phone but immediately turned back again to see you. Oh, he recognized you!

“Hey.” His deep voice spoke as he reached your small table. You looked up.

“Austin. Wow. Hi!” You said, as if you had just seen him. “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long.” You stood up, greeting him with a hug.

“Look at you. You’re all grown up now.” He smiled at you. Whistling a little.

“I could say the same about you.” You said, sitting down again. Thank God he recognized you.

“Wow. I just can’t believe it. It’s been what… ten years?”

“Thirteen.” You corrected him. His eyes widened.

“Thirteen years? Damn, that long? He chuckled. “What are you doing in New York anyways. You used to tell me how much you hated the city.”

“A girl can change. And I find that bars here serve much better drinks.” You chuckled with him, then there was a calm silence before he spoke up.

“I heard you got married. Who’s the lucky guy?”

You sighed, showing him your empty right hand. Oh, so divorced already?

“How long?” He asked.

“Two years married. It was just a disagreement between us. We weren’t looking for the same shit in the long run anyways.” You sighed. It was better to say that than to reveal that your last husband left you for a barely legal girl.

“Two years. Damn.” Austin pressed his lips together, he looked away as he brought the cup to his lips.

“I heard you’re dating a model. Cindy Crawford’s daughter. That’s nice, it give you some… it factor.” You said, you were being half sarcastic and half truthful.

“Ah. Yes, Kaia.” He said, he really didn’t sound enthusiastic. “Everything is going just fucking peachy.” He said, a smirk on his lips.

You nod. The whole tired voice went over your head. He was dating a model, what else could a man wish for? If not a model with long limbs.

“Listen. I’m filming a movie right not but— I surely can make time to see you again. You said you drink, right?”

Your eyes immediately lit up, of course you could make time for him. Well, you wanted to catch up. That’s all.

“Sure. Yeah, what day?”

It was a cold night. But inside the bar it was cozy. You both had ordered, he ordered an Old-Fashioned and you ordered a Cosmopolitan.

You started drinking the night away, you weren’t outright tipsy, but the alcohol was getting to your head.

“I really, really wanted to ask. What’s the true reason behind your divorce?” He asked as he held his glass on his big hands.

You sighed. You were already here. You had known him forever. Yes, you two might have not seen each other in more than a decade, but beforehand you were husband and wife. You shouldn’t be honest at least.

“He cheated on me. With the neighbor.” You confessed, he gasped softly, his hand going to his mouth. “Yeah. She was nineteen, now he’s dating her.”

“What a motherfucker…” Austin said, rubbing his chin.

“I’m starting to believe I curse every guy that gives me a ring. Seriously, five failed marriages. I must be cursed.” You sighed, his eyes widened even more.

“Five you say?” His voice was incredulous. Five. Five marriages. He was your first, of course. “What about the other three? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“My second husband, Tyler, we weren’t a match made in heaven. I guess he scared me a lot. He would drink his paycheck away. We divorced because his incompetent ass went to rehab.” You sighed as you played with the napkins.

“Then there was Eric, he was boring. He spent more time on his office than he did with me. He wasn’t so bad, he was just distant, very. He loved his job more than he ever loved me. He didn’t even talk to me, he just left the divorce papers in the kitchen. He had left a day prior.”

“Then there was… Nate.” You sighed, looking down again at the napkin you’ve been ripping apart. “He wasn’t perfect. Indeed he could be very moody and he yelled all the time. But I cared for him. I didn’t expect him to be taken from me. No wife does. By I learned to accept it. Now I remember him from time to time. I take flowers to his grave whenever I can.”

Austin’s eyes softened as he reached out his hand and placed it upon your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. My goodness, where did you find those bastards to marry?

“Got any kids?” He asked you. Softly. Threading carefully.

“I tried. After we lost our boy, I really tried to get pregnant again. I wasn’t able to.” You said softly, you had at least wanted a baby. Not because you thought it would fulfill you. That was crap. But you wanted a kid so that you wouldn’t be so alone. “But I’m also grateful I never had a kid. It wouldn’t have been healthy if I had the kid calling three men daddy.”

“That’s true.” Austin said, taking a sip from his glass and nodding his head. “Listen. I know that you might think that I’ve forgotten about our baby. I haven’t. I visit the grave whenever I can. It’s just hard for me. Still. To believe he would have been thirteen this year.”

Austin looked down again. Taking your hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

Your baby boy would have been thirteen this year. How time flies.

You and Austin had been eighteen when you had a shotgun wedding because he knocked you up. He had been nervous but so happy. I mean, a tiny baby? He adored tiny babies. It was a happy married albeit you two didn’t know what to do.

But then, it happened, you delivered a beautiful baby boy. A tiny black-haired beauty, he had been a fighter, he had tried to beat the heat stroke that took him. You cried for days, he was there by your side, but he was young too and he was battling with his own demons, he quite literally filled for divorce out of nowhere, when you needed him the most.

You never saw each other again until now.

“I sometimes wonder, how different my life would be if he had lived.” Austin said softly, looking at you.

“Me too.” You wanted to cry, but you held back. You already cried a lot to your first child. You cried in private, like a prayer.

“Maybe we should’ve stayed married.” Austin said, almost with a hint of hopelessness. You stared up at him, a small smile on your lips.

“You were the best of them all.” You said, a smile on your lips. For all his faults, back then he was a kid too, and he mourned in whatever way he found fit.

“What a terrifying thought,” he finished his Old-Fashioned and laughed once again, shaking his head as he licked his lips. “Jesus Christ, don’t say that.”

You laughed together again, as you had done when you were younger. As you used to do late at night. And for some hours, you were happy by his side. He took this as an opportunity to talk about him now.

“You know, my girlfriend and I are having problems. Last thing I knew was that she fucked this comedian guy, from SNL…”

As you waited for a taxi, you smoked together. Maybe this could be the last time you two saw each other. Your lives were the total opposite now. He was a successful actor with a girlfriend and you were an office worker, who spent all her time working or outside.

But you couldn’t deny that when he talked, you stared at his lips, he stared at yours. The way he smoked, the way he held the cigarette.

“Aren’t you lonely now? I mean, you’re all alone.” Austin asked as he threw the ash on the floor.

“I’m trying to learn how to be alone. It will be my next year’s resolution. Stay away from dating.” You chuckled, you then took a drag from your cigarette. “But yes. I can’t get lonely from time to time. I have been someone’s wife for too long, being and living with someone changed the way you feel once they’re gone.”

“I can relate. Kaia and I— we never even got to live together before everything went south. All just because of her stupid parents and her stupid pap walks. It’s exhausting, really.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with this empty hand. “And now that I finally put my limits. She’s all mad at me, with her team sending these ridiculous articles, making me the bad guy.”

“Hey, it’ll get better.” You said, patting his shoulder. “That’s what you get for dating a twenty-something year old.” You patted his shoulder a bit more playfully.

You two started playing with one another, pushing each other playfully, the cigarettes on the floor already. Until he cornered you in the brick wall.

He leaned in and kissed you, you followed the kiss, at first it started slow but it escalated quickly. His tongue entered your mouth, both your tongues danced with one another, his hand went to your neck, pressing it softly. You both could taste the cigarette and liquor on your lips and mouths.

You hadn’t kissed someone in so long, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t. No. Not like this. No, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t say anymore.

So after a while, you pushed him off you gently. He was out of breath, he kicked his lips, his hand going to the side of your head, he leaned down.

“You could survive another man…” He basically purred out, his lips on a smirk.

“It wouldn’t work between us.” You said. Looking into his eyes.

“Why not?” He asked, his eyes only showed confusion.

He would forget you, and you would forget him. For the love of God, never once in thirteen years did he try to contact you, and viceversa. You both would remember your baby boy, but not one another. You two would disappear into each other’s memory until you were old and wrinkly, telling your grandchildren or whatever young person asked about your youth. Talking about how you had a shotgun wedding. Of how you two lost your baby. About how you two continued each other’s lives like strangers.

“We’re too different now.” You said, it was all you could mutter.

Not all the bottled up pain you had from when he just left you, grieving and alone. Nothing. You just couldn’t even talk about it anymore.

He stared at you and nodded. You know what? He understood. He understood where you came from. He was a dick back then. And he couldn’t expect you to jump into his arms after all the men you went through, after what you went through with him.

“It’s alright.” He said, pulling away from you. “I guess I should go back to my apartment, it’s late.” He cleared his throat and came closer to hug you. “It was great seeing you again. I hope we see each other walking by or something. Goodbye.”

He knew he was lying. He was pleased to see you, but every time he looked at you, he saw your younger self. He saw the baby. He saw all the bad things. He loved you once. Not anymore. He had a special place for you in his memory.

But it would be the last time you two saw each other.

As you watched him walk away, you took deep breaths. That was it. You were alone once again. As you had been before he walked into the café. You had no one to turn to tomorrow.

As a taxi pulled to the side, you got in and told the driver the address of the hotel you were staying at.

You were all on your own.

I won’t have any free time from now on so… I’ll try to really write whenever I have time.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Can’t even lie man I’ve been offline all day and i immediately went to your blog to read your takes on the session and Pearl n gem n co. after watching some wild life. Thanks for having the best takes lol

genuinely, it’s an honour. crazy to me that anyone would come to this blog for good takes, they never make any sense and i’m always suspiciously resentful towards c!scott. i’ll take this opportunity to lay out my gempearl thoughts as well

first of all, it drives me insane the way pearl usually goes along with whatever scott and cleo says, but the only thing she consistently, and has repeatedly, contradicted them on is that she’s been antagonising gem. in fact at the start of the session scott poked her about it again and she laid out a short monologue to assert that his claims were invalid. funnily enough she goes back on this a few seconds later saying that “i’ll make her have a reason to hold that grudge” which honestly is not helping her case. however if gem can make vague threats about impulse i don’t see why pearl can’t do the same. women’s wrongs and all that.

and then after that scott tells impulse and pearl to apologise to gem and joel. again, it’s a bit odd to me how they keep harping on this bit, but every time they do, all they do is scold impulse for rightfully constantly accusing gem over the cows, and then impulse apologises, yet pearl is still implicated (for NOTHING). pearl did protest this point earlier that she was “just existing”, scott counters that “i don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve annoyed her”, so “keep your distance”.

and to think that the argument only happened because scott made a throwaway comment about a “request” he had for pearl if she wanted a life from him. i feel like he meant it as a funny aside and expected pearl to just shut up and take it, but pearl never shuts up and takes it so that’s the problem there.

also, on secret life: pearl argues that she was right to ally with scar, which like, okay, fair enough, but scott says that “it takes time” and that “look we’re together” i’m not sure why he’s under the perception that GGG is in anyway functional or healthy considering he himself is trashtalking impulse and pearl with gem geminitay (ok sorry i’m just salty over him being buddy buddy with gem). at one point cleo goes “we have to be enablers” (lowkey incorrect because pearl hasn’t done anything, you can’t enable someone to just do nothing, but i appreciate the sentiment) and pearl just starts. throwing eggs at the ground. really funny out of context.

now for the actual gempearl interaction (we get like one and a half per episode i’m actually starving). they’re so obsessed with each other. trust me i said so. pearl beelining to gem to say “hi gem! :D” and gem beelining to pearl to punch her and say “go home pearl” oh they make me ill i feel like they’re just constantly on each other’s minds. the problem is that we haven’t gotten a good gempearl interaction because when they’re near each other their allies are also hanging around, so it always ends up with gem getting glazed by scott or pearl getting distracted by bigb or something like that. it’s such a pity because gem specifically went to find the 4Gs’ base but she went to the old one instead of the new one where pearl was hanging around so we could have potentially gotten a 1 on 1 shiny duo interaction this session (i’m not sure about the timeline there) but we DIDN’T because gem’s not talked to the 4Gs enough to know that they moved bases. grrr.

and then gem drops the anger for a bit to encourage pearl to kill grian. i have NO idea what that’s about, i feel like she’s just into bloodthirst in general but what it does remind me of is her trying to convince pearl to kill the ender dragon in SL, coincidentally, when pearl was impulse’s butler. and now she’s encouraging pearl to carry out what impulse wants. i don’t know. maybe her type is murderers and she’s trying to give pearl a chance. or something

anyway as for the other half an interaction where gem finds etho pearl and cleo at her base, gem reverts back to loudly disparaging pearl within earshot. i feel like she’s nailed “ex who really wants you to know that you’re exes”, and pearl getting so indignant about it she can’t even form a sentence for a few seconds is great actually. might be a reach but whether on hermitcraft or life series, pearl tends to stumble over her words a lot when directly challenged by gem, which is probably just because she’s thinking hard on what to say and is sleep deprived half the time. but i find it pretty telling that pearl doesn’t say anything back to gem and just. leaves. it’s very obvious she’s still down bad for gem in a way but gem is intentionally making it very hard for pearl to remain so.

last paragraph. when joel visits pearl at their new base, joel is happy that pearl called his build a car and said she liked it (pearl likes cars fork found in kitchen). so joel and pearl are on good terms, which i expect would lead to interesting dynamics but at the same time joel would definitely follow gem’s lead over maintain that friendship but still his perception of pearl now is positive. so that’s intriguing

song of the day is down bad by taylor swift. trust me guys they want each other so bad

[mrschristensen]

okii so i have idea- so older hayden with like a younger reader like in her early twenties blah blah blah. theyre dating and he says i love you and reader gets scared because of her past relationship with her ex which was toxic and then he reassures her and everything and then maybe some soft love making???

It's Amazing How Strong Love Is When It's True

WARNINGS: eventual smut/porn w plot/sexual content (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), piv sex, protected sex, angsty (does have a good ending), implications of age gap, trauma from previous toxic relationship, mentions of sexual assault/harassment and abuse, confession of love (though already in an established relationship), pet names/name calling (baby), praise, lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: Though haunted by her dark past, Hayden's girlfriend realizes what might be the most important thing in her life: She is truly, unconditionally loved.

-> note: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I HOPE YOU ENJOY LUV <333

WC: 726 words

"I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat at his words, hesitating. Then memories flickered and collided with her vision, recalling the trauma from being with such a vile man before Hayden. It was the worst time of her life, and she couldn't be more grateful to have someone who she actually, truly loved.

However, that wasn't her case right now. What if he was lying? What if he was trying to give her a false sense of security so he would just get his way in the end? It wouldn't surprise her, given that he was older than her; he had more experience, maybe he was just trying to get rid of her quicker. What the hell was going on here?

"I-I can't do this right now," she managed to blurt out, and she quickly hastened towards their shared bedroom, ignoring his sudden shock and pleas for her to come back. She couldn't take this, she needed time to think. But did she really?

She had never felt this way before, not even for her ex. That was all forced; this was voluntary. But it was so unclear, the black and white becoming blurry and colliding with one another until it formed into this plethora of confusion. Her heart ached, longed for his touch, his scent, his everything. But did he truly feel the same way?

"Baby, please," he begged on the other side of the door, not knocking or trying to force his way in unlike her former "lover" had done in the past. He was being patient, though he was desperate. He was being respectful, though his emotions were in overdrive. But he then realized. "Is it about him?"

She stopped once more, seeming like an eternity before she responded ever so quietly. "...Yes."

She could hear his sigh from against the wooden barrier between them, and she kept overthinking once more. Was he disappointed? Angry? Distraught? Was he going to do things to her she'll never forget, but in ways that weren't so ideal?

"...Can I please come in?" he asks gently, and though she was hesitant, she shakily unlocked and opened the door. He noticed her trembling form, the pained expression on her face even though she tried to hide it the best she could. All he could feel was guilt.

"Oh, baby," he whispered, opening his arms slightly as to not scare her further. "C'mere."

She was in his arms in seconds, burying her face in his neck and on the brink of tears. She hated crying, so she tried to hold them in, but they ended up falling anyways. He had a way with her that was indescribable, internal, that she could just let her guard down and let all her emotions spill out without feeling even a drop of remorse.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers shakily to him, feeling so bad that she had simply shut him out like that. All he wanted to do was let her know she was appreciated, that she was loved, by him. Not that wretch they call a man, not anyone else in the universe; him.

"You shouldn't apologize when you did nothing wrong," he murmurs, pressing an ever so gentle kiss to her temple and embracing her gently yet firmly.

They were simply there for what seemed like an eternity, holding each other in their arms and being together. She eventually calmed down, realizing he was indeed telling the truth. Of course he was, why would she deny it in the first place?

And then they were on each other in the blink of an eye, eagerly ridding the other of their clothes and rolling hips against hips.

He let out a low moan, keeping her in his hold as he gently thrust in and out of her tight heat. "Wanna take my time with you," he pants, "show you how much you mean to me."

He pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to her neck and face, as if worshipping her for who she was. "I can't believe you're mine,"

It was passionate, romantic, and the best thing in the world at that moment. Soft music hummed in the background, the sunset from outside peeking through and setting the atmosphere. Gentle, beautiful, euphoric. And they knew that they would be there for each other through anything, no matter what it took.

[mcytblrconfessions-but-badder]

I can’t stop thinking about this one post who claims that in the last few years the most popular hermits are the ones on the life series, if you’re not in the life series good luck having solo fanart or fics. And they’re right.

False’s popularity has been steady especially due to her domination in mcc and joining empires season 2 but art of her season in hermitcraft? Rare. Especially if it’s solo art cause I’ve seen a lot of False with another hermitcraft such as Ren or Pearl or Gem. She just doesn’t seem to be around as much in the tumblr tags compared to three years ago.

A while back I checked the hermitcraft sub reddit for their top posts, a lot was season 6/7 and there is so much fanart of Keralis, Iskall, Stress and xB! Not just them with other people but solo art! Yes I can still find that here on tumblr but it involves me digging through tags. And boy if you look at the notes compared to a recent solo Grian or solo Scar art it’s nothing. Now you can argue that it’s based on how much they upload but xB uploads regularly and there’s not a lot of hermit fanart compared to him and Grian and the later uploads way less! He has nearly twice the amount of hermitcraft videos as Grian and the motherfucking British man hasn’t uploaded a hermitcraft episode since early September!

But yet I see more hermitcraft fanart of Grian in the last month than xB. I get it because of subscriber count but come on people, xB is more active but nope, bird beats fish.

And like Rendog I would say has constant fanart but when he wasn’t acting as the king on hermitcraft, the time between double and wild life Ren fanart was going down. It was still a lot but because he wasn’t in the life series and slowed down on hermitcraft videos due to real life stuff the art went down.

But if you join the life series then expect twice the amount of love. Gem joins, she then joins a base area that has life series players in and suddenly she skyrockets to be one of the favourite hermits. Ignore that Joe hills or StressMonster has been here for so long, Gem joined the life series therefore she has to be a fan fav.

“Oh but Doc is still popular! Same as Cub!” That’s because they regularly interact with life series players. Cub has Scar and now the permit office workers. He’s not out hanging with Keralis or Hypno a lot like xB. Doc kind of keeps to himself and interacts with nearly everyone but if there’s a storyline it’s gonna be with a life series member. Joe hill is only midly popular due to the mcytblr sexyman comp and his long time friendship with Cleo, another life series member. You don’t see fanart of him with Welsknight or Iskall.

And fucking Iskall man… I saw so much love for him for season 6 and 7 but the moment he had burn out or want making as much content with Mumbo and Grian he just kind of disappeared in fanart and fics. You’re gonna have an angst fic with Grian and only Scar or Mumbo can help him? Dude was so buddy buddy with Iskall where is he?

And lastly when it comes to season 10 of hermitcraft if you’re not part of the Cherry guys or the post office in regard to bases, you’re not getting any attention. Where’s the love for xB’s new and improved ocean monument? You all love guardian!xB yet nothing on his season 10. Where’s the love for the village people? It has so many hermits together but oh there’s only two life series players and one of them hasn’t been in since double life so no love for them.

I’m just tired of the life series being so connected to hermitcraft because it affected the popularity so much…

That post can’t get out of my head because they’re right.

.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Blitzo (I love calling him Blitzo so much that I think he would kill me)) × Sister!reader.

Haha! He will, he’ll come out of your screen to shoot you so be careful— but anyway, of course. Just a scenario where Barbie’s willing to forgive Blitz and try again. Eh, kinda but also not really. To be honest, I already made an older brother OC for the Buckzo twins so love sibling stuff!

Blitzø- Restart and Reload

“C’mon! C’mon! Loonie’ll finally get to meet you!”

Blitzø eagerly speaks, so excited and jittery and his hand clung to yours as he leads you through the kinda dump-y dark apartment building to find a specific room where his own living quarters and his beloved Loona stations in. His fingers laced with yours, his younger twin sister…

It’s been a while since he ever saw you but now that you’ve been reunited. He plans to keep you in his life

You merely smile at your older brother, he hasn’t changed much since he was a teenager. You’ve noticed that he still has a rather dorky sweet demeanour behind those brutal steely walls he’s put up to protect himself but for you and Loona, he drops them because he loves you two too much to be a prick

Blitzø truly trusts you two… please don’t break his heart— he’s fragile and relying on you, he wants your love as he loves you

His flexible long tail is already clung around your waist like a pair of arms wrapping you up but it’s his subconscious fear of you disappearing, you didn’t mind it even when you were shocked by the sudden contact. He has finally gotten you back after the infamous fire incident had separated you from him. He missed you so much

“Loonie?”

You politely and curiously ask as you’ve never heard of such a person… is she his girlfriend? You always kinda thought your brother was gay, but you’re wrong. He’s a flexible man, he’ll date anybody. It just shows how little you really know your own sibling. Blitzø blames you and his father for this, that you don’t know what kinda person he is. Not what he was like as a teenager and eager to be a circus owner and infatuated with Fizzarolli

He isn’t that type of guy anymore and he is excited to show you his life, give you a new one where you’re no longer alone. Nor is Blitzø. His pretty ruby red eyes, which match yours perfectly, face you with an almost flabbergasted expression, in his mind. Everybody knows his beloved Loonie so you expressing your indifference has him more eager for you to meet his precious daughter

“Loonie’s my baby girl! I adopted her when she was seventeen!”

That surprised you as well since Blitzø is the last person you ever suspected to have a child and therefore become a parent but nevertheless, you think it’s a good thing since you always said he’d make a good dad when you two would play family as children all those years ago. But you don’t press on it long, smiling calm and happily as he stops before a specific apartment door and fiddles in his pockets to pick out his keys

“Oh…”

To Blitzø, your smile is so beautiful, even amongst any confusion or realisation you have. As beautiful as Loona’s smile. He wants to see more of it, especially since you’re his baby sister, his hand and fingers laced up with yours without a single inch of separation inbetween you two. His thick long clawed fingers flipping through the silver round keychain hooking all his keys on one item as he manages to find the right silvery metallic key to press it into the lock and open it up with a soft tap to the now opened door

Blitzø basically drags you across the floor to enter his dangy but suitable home, so excited and delighted to begin the bonding process with you that he doesn’t even give you the moment to process the apartment or speak up. You stumble up to your feet a bit hastily as your own long tail swish smoothly before flexibly shutting the door for your silly kooky little brother

Looking over at the many crossed out almost Polaroid-like pictures pinned on the wall consisting of two unknown smaller imps and a unknown tall grey wolf hellhound but himself is scribbled out with dark marker… it’s concerning but you don’t get a chance, once more, to ask him about it. Despite the fact you want to, because

Blitzø almost throws you onto the couch like he was trying to break a table with you, back down as he stuffs his keys into his business suit-coat pockets to be free-handed before jumping over the back of the old crappy couch to land basically right next to your head expertly. Smirking with his usual shit-eating grin as a cheeky little idea clicks into his head at your current predicament

He legit lays his hand over your face playfully like he’s trying to smother you, getting a response from you being to bite his blood red skin with your sharp clean fangs, yet not to prick out any thick black blood. Your equally big and thick hands reaching up to try pry it off in sync to your nipping

“Agh! Hey, ya lil’ shit!”

Blitzø coos out in a playful sense of outrage and disgust whilst you manage to rise up to your knees when rolling over upon him parting. It’s only been like… a hour since you ran into him and he glued himself to your hip until you submitted to his request and now here you are. You don’t mind, he still has your sense of humour and that’s relieving. That your big bro isn’t just a entirely new person now that he’s a grown ass man

You go right to try fling him over the couch’s armrest by his leg but he uses his tail to flexibly grab onto your wrist and try pin you down back. Just playful wrestling, you’ve gotten into it when you got his hints. You are his twin, of course. You’re like him, your tail swishing as you try to lunge onto him and it works when he miscalculates his movements

The sibling play wrestling you and him that are bound in by both of your pushes, ends almost instantly at the sound of the only bedroom in this apartment’s door swinging open creakily as that same tall grey and white female Hellhound you saw in that wall full of pictures, angrily huffing and rubbing her messily gray long hair with a hairbrush clutched in her paw, steps out without a word but a judgemental glare

Blitzø blinks in surprise for a moment or two when he looks up at the fluffy mess of a Hellhound but he melts into pure joy and euphoria at seeing his beloved baby girl has come out in a blink, he didn’t even need to try convince her to leave the privacy of her comfortable gothic room to meet you! This day couldn’t get any better, everything is going the way he wanted!

He hugs you passionately with almost all limbs to acrobatically sit up after unravelling himself form you with you clutched in his arms as he marches happily to his scowling Hellhound with his smile as wide as the arch of his mighty horns

Already introducing you to this Hellhound without even making a modicum of an effort to explain what the Heaven’s fuck is going on to his confused and annoyed daughter. Blitzø is far too excited and wants you and his beloved Loonie to bond, be best friends! He is so damn relieved that Loona hasn’t shut the door in his face yet and is genuinely letting him speak, even if she looks displeased

“Had a good nap, Loonie? Hope you did! Hey! Wanna say ‘hi’ to your aunt! This is your auntie, do you like her?”