#i finally got to write some of MY ANGEL WOO HOO I LOVE HER

[penumbra-mayhem]

How to Trap an Alpha

— Asher & David & Angel Fic

This takes place about a month after the Inversion. It def goes against canon; I'm making everyone's response to the Inversion far worse (especially David, in this he didn't talk about the Inversion with Angel after it happened. Also I hc Angel as a transwoman, so expect she/her thx.)

Hope yall enjoy <3

TW: gore, panic attack, verbal fighting, grief, PTSD, flashbacks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Asher’s third mistake this week—and his biggest. It had cost David one of the few security gigs he'd managed to book since the Inversion, and David could only chalk it up to pure negligence. He called Asher into his home office; the sight of him sparked panic in David, but he swallowed it and growled:

“This is unacceptable, Asher.”

“I know,” Asher replied, wincing at the aggression in David’s voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it. You know how badly we needed this gig.”

“I forgot—”

“—you forgot,” David scoffed, “You need to do better, Asher. I'm relying on you. The pack is relying on you. If they don’t get work, they can’t pay their rent or groceries or medical bills—”

“—I’m trying, okay?”

“Well you’re clearly not trying hard enough.”

“Yes, I am. Your standards are just ridiculously high.”

“You’re the pack beta. My standards have to be high.”

“Well can you lower them a bit?”

“I’m not going to coddle you, Asher."

"I'm not asking you to coddle me, but I tried talking to you last week—"

"—and I told you to deal with it. I trusted that you would."

"You wouldn't listen to me! Ever since the Inversion you've been practically unreachable. I've been trying to tell y—"

"—I don't have the time, Asher. I have responsibilities. I have people to take care of. I'm the alpha of this pack!"

“You’re not just the fucking alpha!” Asher barked.

David glared at him, “What?”

“Could you stop being my alpha for one goddamn moment and just be my friend,” Asher pleaded, "I know you're not doing well. How could you? How could any of us? I’ve tried checking up on you so many times the past couple weeks. You just keep ignoring me. And not once—” he gasped, his chest tightening, “—not once have you checked on me.”

Images flashes in David's mind at the sound of Asher struggling to breathe: Asher's mauled chest—the layers and layers of exposed skin and bubbly fat, heaving and stretching as he fought for air. Crimson sludge pulsing out of him with each beat of his racing heart.

Asher’s gasped in between words, “I know you want to b-be strong for everyone, but sometimes your strength just c-comes off as indifference. I-I miss my friend! I need my friend. Not my alpha. Fuck, I didn’t know l-losing Gabe would mean losing you too.”

Gabe. It always came back down to Gabe. David balled his fists tight. He’d never escape his father’s death. Never step out from his shadow. He tried so hard to be like his father, and yet everything he did seemed to be the antithesis to what Gabe would do. He wasn’t his father. He never would be. Everyone knew that. Everyone doubted him. And now the one person who’d always had his back was losing faith too.

David stared as Asher backed up against the wall of his office, shaking and hyperventilating. Gabe wouldn’t have let him get to this point. Especially after what he just went through. He would’ve checked on him. He would’ve cared.

Asher's face rapidly losing saturation, so contorted with pain that he looked monstrous. No sense of recognition when he looked up at David. Just pain and fear. It was a look David had never seen on Asher before.

Asher spluttered, “I-I don’t think I can d-do this…fuck, I f-feel like I’m going to p-pass out.”

Gabe knew how to respond to tragedy. He knew how to compartmentalize. He knew how to be a leader and a friend and a father. Gabe knew what to do, always. David didn’t. David didn't know anything. He tried to think of how Gabe would've helped Asher and came up empty. Every day it was like the memory of his father faded a bit more. How could he emulate someone he was slowly forgetting?

And if Asher died, would the same thing happen? Would David lose bits of him? His voice? His laugh? His smile?

Asher was a whimpering, gasping ball on the floor of David's office. He clawed at his own chest, mentally trapped somewhere between the past and the present. David felt the same.

Trying desperately to heal Asher. Asher's core clawing at David's, like someone drowning seeking anything to hold. David's core grasping at Asher's as it slipped away like smoke.

I should leave, David thought, panic squeezing his throat, I should call his mate and let them handle it. They're better at this. Asher's better at this. Ash would know what to do. Dad would know what to do. I don't. I can't. I'm frozen. I jus—

Knock knock knock.

"Hey, David, is everything..." Angel asked quietly as she cracked open the door. Her face fell as she saw the look in David’s eyes, and then Asher on the floor to her right.

"What the fuck? David? David?" Angel sputtered, rushing in. Getting no response from her mate, she crouched down in front of Asher, "Ash, sweetie, what's going on? Are you hurt?"

"C-can't breathe. C-can't..." Asher managed.

Angel whipped her head to look up at David, "What the hell happened?"

"I...I..." David muttered before looking away.

She turned her attention back at Asher, murmuring, "Ash, you think you make it to the living room?"

Asher gave a slight nod. He swayed as Angel helped him up; the feeling brought on a whole new wave of panic, causing him to whimper and grip Angel hard.

"It's okay. It's okay, I've got you. Just a little trip down the hallway, and I'll get you some water, maybe some ice, and we'll get that breathing slow again. It's okay, you're safe, I've got you..." Angel cooed, her voice fading as the two made their way to the living room.

Leaving Ash lying in the Underground. Wondering if he'd ever see him again. The ice-cold fear that it hadn't been enough. That the healing hadn't been enough to save him. That he'd die down there, alone. That he'd abandoned his best friend.

David's head spun. The panic he felt whenever he was with Asher was the same panic he felt whenever Asher left. He couldn't escape. David leaned against his desk as images flooded his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About twenty minutes later, Angel appeared in the doorway. David's eyes shot up, red and glassy.

"I managed to calm him down a bit. His mate came and picked him up. They're on their way home now, I expect," Angel said, her voice tight.

"Good," David croaked.

Silence fell for a moment.

"What happened?" Angel asked.

David grumbled dismissively, “He lost us the Devlin gig."

"I already knew that. That's not what I'm talking about."

"It was just a panic attack. He's fine," David hissed.

Angel gaped, "What? What the fuck is wrong with you?""

"Oh fuck off." David growled.

Washing Asher's blood off himself in his bathroom sink. Angel offering to help. Telling her to go away.

"No!" Angel shouted, advancing towards him, "No, you do not get to tell me to fuck off. Not after I just helped your best friend off the fucking floor while you stood there and did nothing."

Gabe would have done something. Gabe would be so disappointed.

Angel lowered her volume, but kept the bite in her voice, "Look, I understand you're struggling, David. I don't need you to tell me that for me to see it. But that doesn't mean you get to be cruel. No more shutting me out. Now talk. What happened?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt his body instinctively fight the urge to keep from crying. Gabe used to let himself cry in front of people. Why couldn't David?

Angel ran a hand over her face, muttering, "Alright. Fine. I'm leaving."

Pack members sprinting. Splitting up. Leaving his line of sight. Leaving him.

She turned to walk out, and David heard the words before he even realized he was saying them, "I can't stop seeing him. How he was. Asher. On the ground, bleeding out. Every time I look at him, that's all I see."

Angel stopped, but didn't turn back around.

The words came rushing out like a flood. Like blood from an open chest. "I can't escape. Everywhere I look, there's something or someone that reminds me of that night. Something that sends my mind back there and then I have to claw my way back to the present, every time."

Angel faced him, biting her lip and furrowing her brow. David could feel tears burning his eyes, but he couldn't let them fall.

"I don't know how to handle this. All those fucking people, just...gone...I don't know how to be a leader after something like that. I'm doing everything wrong. I'm somehow pushing everyone away and yet not far enough, apparently, cause I'm still hurting people when I lash out. I'm hurting you. I'm hurting Ash. I'm hurting the pack. And-and..." David choked, "...and I just keep thinking how the only good thing about my dad being dead is he doesn't have to watch me as I destroy everything he built."

"No," Angel insisted, shaking her head as she walked back to him, "You're not destroying everything."

"I am, Angel," David cried out, his voice small. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes.

"No," she repeated, her hands resting on his hips, "you're not."

David let Angel pull him into her. He let her arms wrap around him. Let her shoulder hold his head as he began to cry. Finally. For the first time since that night.

His tears falling on Asher's face. The Shades and the screams so loud he could barely hear his own sobbing.

"Here's what we're going to do," Angel whispered, "We're going sit on our bed. I'm going to get you some water. We're going to talk. Afterwards, we're going to get some food. Maybe go for a drive, talk some more. And when he's ready, you're going to talk to Ash. Okay?"

It was a page right out of Gabe's book, and it took David aback for a moment. He almost kept the thought to himself. Almost.

"My dad would've said that," David mumbled into Angel's shoulder, “What you said, just now.”

“Yeah?”

David nodded.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. Makes me feel...steady," David assured her.

Angel pressed a small kiss to his temple and murmured, "I'm glad. Now come on, let's go talk."

[ihearthes]

Quarantine Christmas Part  2

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Smut Word Count: 2768 (Part 1) Fiction Chalenge via @caitlin‘s fiction party via @sweetcreatureinthedark

Part 1

December 24, 2020

“Smith!” he bellows way too early and cheerfully as he pounds on my bedroom door. “Happy Christmas Eve! Come on! Let’s go for a jog.”

“Arrrrggggghhhhh,” I growl. “No.”

“If you hike the Hastain Trail with me, I’ll spring for coffee afterwards.”

“Go away, Styles.” Drawing the pillow over my head, I try to block out the sound of his voice. 

“Fresh air will be good for you.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” 

“Not on your life. I hate hiking alone.”

“Fine!” Throwing the covers off, I don my newly cleaned leggings, sports bra, and a t-shirt before opening the door and marching past him in my tennis shoes. “Bully,” I accuse. 

“You’re mad that I’m forcing you to take care of yourself?” Although he sounds offended, that smirk is back. 

“Whatevs, Styles. Let’s go.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He sets off at a brisk pace, and I trail behind him slightly. After all, I’m still waking up. 

“Keep up, Smith!”

Just to be ornery, I slow my stride, taking my time examining the plants next to the path. When I next glance up, Harry is a solid quarter mile ahead of me, and I contemplate turning back, finding a picnic table and taking a nap on it until he’s done. 

But no. That’s not to be, as he turns and jogs back to me, keeping his legs pumping as he moves backwards. 

“You’re going to trip on something,” I caution. 

He grins. “You care about me!”

My eyes roll so far back into my head that I swear I can see my own brain. “No. But I care about Glenne, and she would be mighty upset if I had a part in damaging you.”

“Mhm.” The smirk is back, and as hard as I try to keep a sour look on my face, it’s challenging. “Where was Christmas supposed to be?” His question is casual, but it causes me to flinch.

“Indiana,” I snap off the word like one would a twig on a dying tree. Immediately, I feel guilty. “Sorry.” My mumble is quiet, but loud enough for him to hear and nod in silent acceptance. “You don’t deserve rudeness. What about you? London?”

“Holmes Chapel. With my mum, my sister, and her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Is it cold there this year?”

“Fairly mild. And Indiana?”

“Cold, cold, cold. Maybe even snow still on the ground.”

“Yeah. Christmas in Los Angeles is quite different.” Harry gestures around the trail, and I smile. 

“Definitely.”

“What are your favorite traditions?” 

By the time we loop back around to the start of the trail, we’ve exhausted the topic, and I realize my mood has improved tremendously. 

“Thank you, Harry.” The words are soft, and I try to insert as much authenticity as I can into them. 

I have the pleasure of watching his eyes soften as he observes me over the top of the car. “Coffee next! And a trip to the grocery!”

“Grocery? You’re cooking?”

“WE are baking and then cooking.”

“Really?”

“Yep. We’re going to create a mashup of our traditions.”

“No fucking way!” I exclaim, excited at the prospect. Sitting up, I search for a piece of paper and a pen. “I didn’t bring my purse, Styles. Give me your phone.”

“My phone?” Confused, he gazes at me while at a stoplight. 

“I need to write down the ingredients we need to buy. Let’s see. We can’t make some of the cookies we each like because I don’t know if Glenne has cookie cutters in the right shapes. So how about some ginger biscuits?” 

When he nods, I gesture for his phone. “Come on, Styles. I need to look up recipes and make sure we get the right ingredients.”

Reluctantly, he unlocks his phone, handing it to me. “No snooping,” he warns, shaking his finger in my direction. 

“Puuuuuuullllllleeeeeasssse. As if.” Using his browser, I search for a recipe for the ginger biscuits for him as well as one for thumbprint jam cookies, copying the ingredients into his Notes app. 

“Now, for dinner,” he begins, and my fingers pause as I wait for his next words. “Mum used to do a roast, but I don’t eat meat anymore. Just fish. And your family always does turkey. How do we compromise on a protein?”

“Scallops? Salmon? Both delicious and something I would consider fancy enough for a holiday meal.”

“Excellent!” Harry declares. “And can we agree on brussel sprouts and yams?”

My whole being is excited at the prospect of this meal with Harry. Suddenly there’s a silver lining to spending my favorite holiday away from my family. 

As he turns off the engine, I rest my hand on his wrist until he twists to look at me. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You already said that.” He rolls his eyes, but the crinkles send a different message. 

Less than 30 minutes later, we’re back in the car with the trunk full of groceries, including prosecco. After stopping for the promised coffee, we return to Glenne and Jeffrey’s house, unloading the food. 

“Mind if I take a shower before we start?” I ask, looking down at my clothing. “I feel dusty still from the trail.”

“Let’s both shower --” He stalls at my shocked expression “-- in separate bathrooms, Smith. Then let’s see who can put together the worst Christmas outfit from whatever we can find in the guest bedroom where we’re each sleeping.”

A grin crosses my face. “Oh, you’re going down, Styles!” Rushing out of the room, I’m confident that my ears are playing tricks on me because I think he responds with “I would love to go down on you.” He must have said something completely different, and I shake my head to clear the thought. 

When I emerge later, I’m wearing my grey sweatpants which I’ve pinned garland to along with one of my green hoodies and a giant wreath draped around my neck like a necklace by a red ribbon. Arriving in the kitchen, I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight of Harry wearing a skirt of wrapping paper over his also-grey sweatpants, along with a variety of bows stuck to his Green Bay Packers hoodie. 

He shrugs, “Apparently they use that guest bedroom for storing wrapping paper.” 

I laugh as I pluck one of the bows off his hoodie and place it on my chest after removing the wreath. 

“You win,” I concede. “I’m surprised there’s so much Christmas stuff in their house.”

“Eh. The Azoff family celebrates everything.”

“Lucky us, then.”

Side by side, we create the dough first for the ginger biscuits and then for the thumbprint cookies. After he slides the first pans into the oven, Harry crosses his arms. “Scrabble while we wait for them to bake?”

“Oh, it’s on!” I agree, and we settle at the dining room table to play the game. 

“Fine. You win,” Harry pouts over an hour later as I play my final letter which manages to be on a triple word score tile. 

“Woo hoo!” Stuffing one of the ginger biscuits in my mouth, I chew thoughtfully. “These are pretty good. I might make them again next year.”

“Same for these,” Harry grins as he chews on one of the thumbprint cookies. Crossing his arms on the table in front of him, he leans toward me. “Now how about you tell me exactly why you turned down my account when Glenne offered it to you?”

Shock courses through my body, and I freeze, knowing my face is likely turning into a candy cane red. 

“She told you?”

“Of course she told me! I had specifically asked for you, so I was a bit heartbroken when she told me that you refused.”

His word choice makes me raise an eyebrow. “Heartbroken?”

“Devastated? Wrecked? Disappointed? Take your pick, Smith.”

Swallowing, I make eye contact with him. “I’ll tell you why I turned down our account if you’ll tell me why you call me Smith.”

His tongue darts out and wets his lips as his green eyes bore into me. “Because you remind me of a Granny Smith apple.” Confusion must sweep across my face, as he continues talking. “You’re tart at first, but you can be sweetened. I’ve witnessed it in the past as well as just the last two days.” His face colors, but he continues speaking anyway. “Plus I suspect you’re incredibly juicy, and I would love a sample.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Had Harry Styles just made a very obvious overture? Yes. Yes, he had. My eyes float over his face, searching for any indication that he’s lying, but the sincerity is striking. 

First I look at my entwined hands, and then I decide to show the same courage he has exhibited. “I turned down your account because I couldn’t possibly work for you when I’m this attracted to you. It’s bad form to want to --” I can’t decide on the appropriate word, so I settle for “-- jump your client.”

The smirk is back, and it’s followed by an uproarious laugh. “This is too rich! To think that we could have been having some sort of relationship all this time is mind-numbing.” Rising, he holds out his hand. “How about we consummate our mutual attraction?”

“In the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Eve?”

“You got a better idea of how to spend our time?” 

“Swimming?” I tease. 

“Smith?”

“Yeah?”

“Take my hand.”

His words and tone make it clear that he’s interested in moving forward with this. My own body’s response is in sync with his. Gently, I place my hand in his as I rise from the table. Twisting his body, he also shifts his hand, leading me in the direction of…where? A bedroom seems too rushed. Not that my hormones would agree. 

But no. We walk down the two steps into the living room where he turns on the Christmas tree lights before settling on the couch and tugging my arm so that I join him. “Oh, wait.” Rising, he approaches the sound system, and soon the strains of Christmas music fill the space. Returning to my side, he settles with his arm around me. 

“Smith…” His words are a whisper, and I rotate my head in his direction as he brushes his finger over my cheek. When our lips meet, I swear I can hear the angels sing. His mouth is soft and tender, and I twine my fingers through the hand draped over my shoulder as I open wide to allow him to enter. Our tongues tangle in heat and dampness that also seems to pool between my legs. He tastes of the lemon curd thumbprints we had jointly made, and I relish the flavor, wanting more. 

Shifting closer to him, I tilt my head to provide greater access, and his hand drifts to my sweatpants. Withdrawing from me, he examines our clothes. “Mind if I remove this garland?”

“Not at all,” I purr. “As long as I can get rid of these bows.” The wrapping paper skirt had already been ruined when we sat down for the Scrabble game. 

Rather than unpinning the garland, though, he hooks his thumbs into my waistband and draws the sweatpants over my hips. “Up, Smith.” I lift my bum as he removes my bottoms, leaving me in my panties. 

In return, I inch his hoodie up his chest and off, tossing it over my shoulder, heedless of the bows that seem to desire to stay attached to the musician. Can’t say I blame them. 

“Hmmmm,” he murmurs before capturing my lips again. 

When we come up for air, my hands have managed to roam his chest, tweaking his nipple and wrenching a moan from his mouth. For his part, his hand has drifted over the small piece of cloth separating my treasure from full access. His thumb rubs a pattern over the fabric, and soon I’m panting. 

“Fuck,” I mutter as we separate. 

“Yes please” is his cheeky reply. 

“Dork,” I indict.

“Mhm. Take off that hoodie. Please.” 

Willingly, I oblige. Before the material has hit the floor, he’s capturing my nipple in his mouth, and I throw my head back as fire stokes through my body from my tits to my core. “Shit,” I proclaim. 

His fingers return to the scrap of cloth covering my center. As his thumb teases my clit through the silk, a finger slips underneath and into me. Without thought, I cry out, my lower body rising from the bed to get closer to heaven. 

“Been a while?” His voice is rough, sounding like sandpaper as he dislodges from my breast. 

“Too long,” I pant, “but you’ve always had the power to bring me to the brink just with a look.”

“I see,” he smirks, and normally I would want to smack him, but this time, I find it endearing. 

“I want --” I gesture to his sweats, and he grins. 

“If I refuse?”

“Then my treasure box can close pretty quickly if I don’t have something in my hands.”

Harry laughs. “Fair enough.” Shucking his sweatpants over his hips, I find that he’d chosen not to wear underpants as his cock springs upwards into my waiting hand. 

“Shit. I need lubricant.” I complain. 

We gaze at each other, the lust clear. Jumping up from the sofa, we race together to Glenne and Jeffrey’s bathroom. I scour the lower cabinets while Harry throws open the linen closet. “Got it!” he announces, holding the bottle over his head. 

“Thank God!” My relief is real. Grabbing the bottle from him, I find I can’t move. Now what? Where do we go? We can’t very well do the deed in their bed. 

Grabbing my hand, Harry once more takes the lead, and we end up in his guest bedroom. I gesture at the bed, and he strips off the duvet before lying down on his back. Crawling onto the mattress, I settle between his thighs, tilting the bottle of lube and squeezing a fair amount into my hand. Relaxed, I hold my hand over his cock, allowing droplets to fall. His eyes plead with me, and I grin at him. 

“Impatient, Styles?”

“Desperate for you, Smith.”

With that pronouncement, I wrap both hands around his length, allowing my fingers to glide gently along his shaft. One hand falls underneath where I can tickle his balls playfully. When his hips start bucking, I withdraw from him completely -- albeit slowly with a final few long strokes. 

His eyes fly open, and he pats the bed next to him, so I lie there. 

“Smith…”

“Shhhh. Hush, Styles.”

Miraculously he doesn’t say anything, but he does reach out and shift aside the fabric over my vagina before he delves a finger inside. I know I’m wet. Hell, I can feel the dampness. 

His finger teases me, and I writhe under his attention. 

“Fuck, Styles. I’m gonna…”

“Do it!” he orders, and my lower body creates a bridge as my hips rise into the air while my thighs tremble in ecstasy. 

As I land back onto the bed and earth itself from my recent visit to heaven, Harry carefully removes my panties and throws them over his shoulder. 

“Condom?” He inquires.

“IUD. You clean?”

“Yep. Got tested not long ago. You?”

“Fuck me, Styles. We deserve this.”

“Indeed,” he grins just before he plunges into me, and I cry out at the feel of his length inside me, filling me and touching every part of me. 

“Shit.” My breaths come in short spurts as he pumps into me. I can’t seem to catch my breath as my second orgasm starts building. “Shift to the left, Styles.”

“You got it, Smith. Can you scratch at my back?” 

“You bet.” 

The communication is nice as we guide each other to what pleases us the most. As much as I want to take our time, it’s not nearly long enough before I feel my insides begin to clench in a familiar way. 

“Fuck, Styles. I’m coming!”

“Me too, Smith! Fuuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!” He stretches the word into multiple syllables as I feel his seed squirting into my womb, stopped only by my birth control. His fingers reach between our bodies as he manipulates my clit until I see stars and arch my lower body to become closer to him. 

Collapsing on top of me, his breathing is as uneven as my own. 

“Merry Christmas, Smith,” he murmurs while we’re still joined. 

“Merry Christmas, Styles,” I reply, hugging his body tightly to mine. No telling if we have a future, but this holiday is going to be one for the books. 

A/N:  This short story is dedicated to those who aren’t able to join family this Christmas due to the Coronavirus.  Be safe.  Be healthy.  Make the best of the situation. Sending you BIG HUGS!

[gizkasparadise]

kdrama review: because this is my first life

Master Kdrama rec list.

Series: because this is my first life Episodes: 16 Genres: friendship, romance, comedy, slice of life, marriage of convenience that turns into falling in love for real Spoilers in the Review: first episode/basic premise If You Like, You’ll Like: oh my god they were roommates, marriage of convenience that turns To Real Love, a show that really encapsulates Being A Tired Millennial, the proposal (sandra bullock + ryan reynolds), female-centric cast/plot and friendship, my first first love, cats, what’s wrong with secretary kim?, age of youth, cheese in the trap, fight for my way

Rank: 10/10

“i’m going to die in your room because it has the best ventilation.”

Premise

the show follows the romantic relationships of three best friends: ji ho, soo ji, and ho rang as they try to exit their 20s and make it through their early 30s

ji ho is a single woman that has hit hard financial times and as a result is homeless. se hee owns his home but can’t afford the mortgage, and has no desire to marry despite familiar pressure to do so. after a chance encounter, se hee proposes via financial plan and ji hoo accepts because dude has a really nice apartment and a beautiful cat. their relationship is a mutually beneficial business transaction or is it

soo ji is a career woman who works in a corporate office and has to deal with a lot of patriarchal bullshit because she isn’t married or dating. she doesn’t take shit and is clearly the Muscle of the friend trio.  

ho rang works full-time as a server but dreams of her long-term boyfriend proposing so she can get married and live as a housewife. problem is said boyfriend doesn’t want to get married.

Characters

yoon ji ho

a struggling writer for television who wants to write her own stories. hardworking and warm, she does her best with what she’s got (which, sadly, isn’t much). chugs beer and an enthusiastic football/soccer fan. she’s an angel and we’re thrilled to have her here.

nam se hee

oh my god i love him. works as a programmer/developer for a start-up company that makes a dating app. and his verbatim proposal is: “If you have some free time, will you marry me?” socially awkward and a bit of a beta male, he’s super respectful of ji ho and im loving that energy. plans to die in his apartment and tells ji ho he wants to do it in her room because the ventilation is best there. manages his emotional connections via powerpoints and spreadsheets. will absolutely not work overtime because he needs to get home to feed his cat, named Cat. cheap as hell but will still pay for Cat to take a cab to the vet. stares at weather apps when he is jealous.

woo so ji

can and will kill you. apparently does not have a single split-end. doesn’t like to wear bras. will ghost all the one-night stands.

ma sang goo

se hee’s boss at the start-up company who is A Romantic At Heart and Trying His Best. reenacts the dance numbers from 500 days of summer. one of so ji’s ghosted one-night stands. kick his ass baby i’ll hold your flower

yang ho rang

very cute and understandably very fed up with her boyfriend. wants to live at home as a housewife and she supported her boyfriend financially as he ~found himself~. puts up with way too much shit and deserves better. #DumpHim

sim weong sok

ho rang’s long-term boyfriend who's a friend of sang goo and a developer. lmao i do not care for him which is probably coming through :’D uses math for romantic gestures, so okay i’ll bite.

Cat

se hee’s cat. amazing. spectacular. show-stopping. iconic. 

Drawbacks.

i haaaaaaaaaaaaate ho rang’s boyfriend so, so much. it was so frustrating watching their subplot because tbh ho rang super deserves better

Reasons to Watch.

man does this get the vibe of I’m Broke and Just Trying To Get Through It. 

i love the first two ships to the moon and back. ji ho and se hee are absolute goals and se hee is not a dick while also being protective and supportive of ji ho. i just think They’re Neat

fucking funny!!!!

central focus on the lady power trio BFFs

Final Thoughts.

one of many, many favorite scenes. also What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim has cameos from the actors who play ji ho, se hee, and sang goo!

[photolover82]

The Masked Singer Season 3 Episode 14: The Quarter Finals (Commentary & Guesses)

Hello fellow Masked Singer fans! It’s that time of the week aka Ana’s Masked Singer recap time, with your typing host Ana, because nobody else will do it for me haha. We are truly getting down to the wire with only 5 masked contestants left (well 4 after we are done here with this recap lol). So, again, we will be honoring the judges with some trophy emojis because they are getting there and I am kind of shook, but this time I am also gonna give the judge with the worst guess ever a poop emoji because it was a horrible guess. Yes, I am having too much fun with this, let me enjoy my moment. I think I am gonna call the segment “Panel Spotlight.” Ok, so having said that, let’s get started! (Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead, proceed with caution.. don’t say I didn’t warn you)

Alright, so let’s start with the elimination/mask coming in 5th place was:

*DRUMROLL PLEASE*

THE KITTY 

Ok, so this one was also pretty upsetting, but at this point I knew this was going to happen even though I was hoping Rhino would go home instead. The only person I am like really routing for is Turtle at this point (I also really miss Astronaut so I am still sad over that elimination) so whatever I guess. However, I don’t think she should’ve gone home. Her performance of Back to Black by Amy Winehouse was really great, even though it wasn’t her best performance. Anyways, I did know who she was ever since the Super 9 and I was sure... 

Having said that, Kitty was revealed to be...

JACKIE EVANCHO

Alright so yay the Internet convinced me and I got it because of them, thank you Internet! I kinda love you... sometimes. Anyways, if you don’t know who Jackie is, she was on America’s Got Talent when she was 10 as an opera singer and became one of the most successful & youngest platinum musicians ever. Now, she’s almost 20 which is insane and 10 years later full circle moment with Nick Cannon. Anyways, she really killed it as the Kitty, singing not just opera but all types of genres and killing it. Wow, yup, her voice is insane, we are the same age and she is so freaking talented, I can't even. I am so excited to see what the future holds for her. Anyways, here are the new clues that made sense for it to be her:

Clue package, traveling through St.Petersburg, Japan, the Vatican, etc. = all places Jackie has performed 

Somewhere over the rainbow= performed it on Oprah’s TV special in 2011

After Performance clue this time was a “borrowed package.” Hers contained a Bow & Arrow= she is a talented archer as well as singer (this is news to me but I looked it up)

Now time for the PANEL SPOTLIGHT: 

Nobody got the 🏆 because the judges were so clueless.

However, the worst guess aka the 💩 was the guest judge, comedian Jeff Dye, who said “one of those Olsen twins.” I gave it to him because he couldn’t even distinguish which one & the Olsen twins don’t make sense with all of these clues. 

Alright, now we have our top 4 contestants, woo hoo! These are our semi-finalists, my guesses, and commentary, let’s do this: 

1. The Frog 

Performance: Yeah, I’m sorry, I just am not a big fan of Frog. He switched up last week and it was better than his normal stuff, but he just reverted to the same thing again and it’s getting annoying. This time, he performed Bust a Move by Young MC. 

Guess: Bow Wow 

Clue package, calling his “little frog” = he has a 9 year old daughter 

French Bread on the ground = he has a song named Long Bread

Falcon Figure= Atlanta Falcons (where he lives & he is a fan of them) 

Borrowed Package= Model Airplane= The Bow Wow Challenge from 2017 when he faked going on a private jet & was caught in a normal airplane and a challenge was born on the Internet about this

Now time for the PANEL SPOTLIGHT:

Yay! Robin Thicke caught on! He gets the 🏆 for guessing Bow Wow. 

On the other hand, the worst guess aka the 💩 was of course Mr. Ken Jeong, who guessed Derek Hough?! What?! His logic for that guess was way off and Derek Hough cannot rap like that (but it would be cool for Derek to be on the show tho) 

2. The Rhino 

Performance: Ok, so he sang “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling” by the Righteous Bros and it was impressive. This is another one of his best performances. It was a very romantic version of this song and he played into the romance. Also, you could hear some rasp to his voice that shows some versatility, I really really enjoyed this one wow. I think I might have been underestimating Rhino’s performance ability. 

Guess: Barry Zito 

In the package, he said that he had struggles before meeting his wife= he was a bad boy in baseball & his wife straightened him out to be a man of faith. 

3 little elephants’ picture= reference to his 3 kids 

Turkey hand drawing= has his own Red Turkey baseball card

Borrowed Package= Navy Hat= he was in a 2003 episode of JAG playing a Navy officer & him/his wife have a charity to donate to the military

Now time for the PANEL SPOTLIGHT:

Ok so this one is gonna be surprising because nobody said it but somebody was close. Surprisingly, Ken was close so I am going to give him the 🏆 for mentioning JAG when seeing the Navy hat clue, so let’s give him some kudos there.

Tbh, none of the guesses were absolute 💩 so we are going to skip this one for the Rhino. 

3. Night Angel 

Performance: Ok, so not a fan of the Night Angel either (she is way too inconsistent for my liking), but this was probably one of her best performances so far, if not her best performance. She sang “Last Dance” by Donna Summer and the song choice was perfect for her voice. I really liked this performance too, wow this episode is actually pretty good performance wise (except for Frog, but whatever) 

Guess: Kandi Burruss 

Lipstick = has a makeup line & final studio album of Xscape was called Traces of my Lipstick

"Say Baby I Love You”= hint to her writing for Destiny’s Child

Columbia on a map= her first studio album was recorded in Columbia Records 

Borrowed Package= Ski Gear= reference to her Bravo special Kandi’s Ski Trip 

Now time for the PANEL SPOTLIGHT:

Nobody caught on this episode so nobody gets the 🏆.

On the other hand, I also can’t give a 💩 to anyone because the guesses were pretty tame & okay. They didn’t hit the mark, but they weren’t overly horrible. 

4. Turtle 

Performance: Best for last, baby! The show allowed him to perform Fix You by Coldplay for last, because he is the best & nobody could tell me otherwise. Ok so now that I have professed my love for the Turtle, I just wanna say dude this was one of his best performances (I still think his best one was his first one when he sang “Kiss from a Rose”). The song gave me chills, it was so good. It was raw & emotional, you could really feel all the words he was singing. Best performance of the night 1000%!!

Guess: Jesse McCartney 

Wanted poster with $1999 on it as a reward= he joined Dream Street in 1999

Wedding Cake Topper= the man’s engaged to his girlfriend of 6 years, Katie Peterson  

Green Mop= Known for his “mop top” haircut in the 2000s 

Poker Chips= Voiced Theodore in Alvin & the Chipmunks 

Borrowed Package= Zombie= appeared in the Walking Dead as a zombie

Now time for the PANEL SPOTLIGHT:

Yay! Nicole finally caught on! She gets the 🏆 for guessing spot on Jesse McCartney even though her reasoning was a bit off & kinda weird.

On the other hand, the worst guess aka the 💩 was again our guest judge with the ever so terrible guess of Norman Reydus. This is so far off, it’s almost laughable. 

Anyways, we are done! As always, let me know what you guys think... do you agree? Disagree? I wanna know your guesses too ofc. Did I convince you? Alright, so that’s it! I will see you guys next week for the semi-finals wow! BYE! 

[roxyspearing]

Like old times

This is my entry for @amanda-teaches and her undercover hunting challenge, celebrating her reaching 500 followers (woo!) The job I picked for our boys to go undercover in was *drum roll* personal trainers! So, let's get physical, shall we?

Word count: 3,929 - this is by far the longest fic I've done, and I'm not sorry for a single word of this.

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, a couple of original characters

Warnings: besides the amount of time it's going to take you to read this? One sassy as fuck reader, canon level violence and death, violence and injury to reader, a lot of swearing, SMUT - oral (female receiving) sexual intercourse (semi protected as reader's on the pill - always practise safe sex people!)

If I've tagged you and smut isn't your thing I apologize! Also, feedback is much appreciated - this is only my second proper time writing smut!

“Sam?”

The voice at the other end of the phone is quiet, and it takes Sam a minute in his half asleep state to realise who is calling him.

“Y/N?”

“Hey. I’m sorry to call so early, but...well, I need your help.”

“OK, remind me again who this friend is that has us up and on the road at...7:34 in the morning?” queries Dean as he points the impala out of the bunker's garage and onto the main road.

“Like I said, I know them from Stanford...”

“And they know what we do?”

“Yeah, there was a hunt a few years back...”

“And why is he calling you?”

Sam goes to reply then stops as Dean's words register in his brain. A second or two passes, and then he decides to go along with it, let Dean get a little surprise when they finally get to Denver, Colorado.

“He wouldn’t be calling unless he really needed my help.”

“Well, this better be good to have us up at the crack of dawn.”

“It will be.”

The 6 hour drive only takes just over 4 what with Dean's lead foot and the lack of traffic at this time of day, and soon Sam is directing Dean to the address Y/N gave them.

“We're meeting this guy at a gym?”

Sam smirks to himself as he leaves Dean to fill the meter and heads in to the gym.

“Hi, welcome to Fitness 24. How may I help you?” the receptionist smiles.

“Hi, could you let Y/N know that Sam Winchester is here to see her please?”

“Of course, she let us know that she was expecting you. I'll just give her a call.”

The receptionist has just put the phone down when Dean walks in, still grumbling. They stand there for a couple of minutes, and then the sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor reaches their ears.

“You got here sooner then I was expecting you to, Samuel.”

The sound of your voice has both Winchesters turning on the spot.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Sam, not Samuel.”

Laughing, you throw your arms around Sam's waist and hug him tight. As you pull back, you can see another man staring at the two of you in disbelief.

“Probably the same number of times I've told you it’s Y/N/N, not Y/N.” Rising up onto your tiptoes, because even in your heels Sam still has like a foot on you, you plant a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Abby, can you divert all my calls for a bit?”

“No problem boss” the girl behind the reception desk replies.

“Right, let's take this up to my office, talk in comfort. And if you could get your jaw off my floor, that would be lovely, thanks.” That last sentence is directed towards Dean, who still hasn’t uttered a word.

You lead the way, and once in your office, you thump Sam in the arm.

“Ow! What the hell...”

“That was for lying to your brother! Because going by that face on him, he sure wasn’t expecting a woman to be stood here.”

“No, I wasn't.” Dean says, having managed to find his voice again.

“To be fair, you did think Y/N/N was a man.”

“Excuse me?” you ask, as you sit down behind your desk.

“I may, possibly, have just assumed you were a guy?” Dean mumbles.

“Hmmm. Yeah, the tits kind of put a kibosh in that. Sit down would you? This craning my neck to look at you two giants business is starting to hurt.”

Sam chuckles at your words as he and Dean sit in the chairs on the other side of your desk.

“You haven’t changed.”

“Same can’t be said for you honey. You trying to be a real life Rapunzel with that hair?” You smile as Sam flips you the bird and Dean bends over double laughing. “Right, let’s do this properly, shall we? Dean, nice to meet you. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Likewise. So, you know Sammy from Stanford?”

“Sammy?” You cock your head in his direction and bite back a grin.

“No.”

“OK, not Sammy. Yeah, we went to Stanford together.”

“But...”

“I'm not a lawyer?” Dean nods in response. “Yeah, that was too dull for me. I did anatomy and physiology, with a business degree as my minor.”

“Then how did you two meet?”

“In the gym actually. Sam gave me sparring tips.”

“Y/N's got one hell of a right hook” Sam pipes up.

“OK. So, how is it you know about...” Dean’s question trails off, unsure of how to say it.

“Demons and angels and all that hoo-ha?”

Dean nods again, reminding you of one of those nodding head toys you stick on your car dashboard.

“Well, I hadn’t seen this one since he'd upped and left from Stanford, then a couple years back I was visiting some family of mine and nearly got killed by a vampire. That face you had at seeing me? That’s what mine looked like when I realised the bloke who had just chopped off someone else's head was Sam here.” you explain, and as you kind of expected, Dean barely bats an eyelid.

“When I left, having given ‘this one’ the whole ‘monsters are real, here's how to protect yourself’ talk” Sam glances over and shakes his head at you mouthing ‘fuck you’ to him for using your words against you “I gave her my number and told her to keep in touch. You didn’t until this morning though.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I need your help.”

Sam and Dean look at one another, and you swear you can see an entire conversation take place.

“OK Y/N, tell us what's going on.”

A couple of hours later, and the Winchesters and yourself have come up with a plan. You had been hoping that it was just a series of weird accidents that had caused the deaths of 3 people, but when two more people had died - in your gym no less - you'd known that something was up. Thank God you'd kept Sam's number. It had been a shock when he'd saved you from certain death, even more of a shock when he'd explained that monsters were real and that was why he'd dropped out of college with half a semester to go. But he and his brother obviously knew what they were talking about and you certaainly needed every bit of help you could get. Especially when you were in danger of being shut down. The gym was your life, and you'd put everything you had and more into sorting out not just this place, but your new branch, ironically enough not too far from the brothers.

“So, a witch?”

“Yep” Dean glanced over at you as he shut the locker door. “Evidence of hex bags on at least 3 of the victims.”

“And you think it's one of my staff?”

“All the victims were members of your gym Y/N.” you turn to Sam, sat tying his shoe laces “A member of staff would easily be able to get access to their belongings.”

“Well, good thing my two newest employees have passed their background checks then.”

The plan was simple: Sam and Dean would pose as your two newest trainers. After all, they certainly had the bodies for it.

“So, as personal trainers, that gives you guys access to the entire building.”

“Who else has access like that? We'll start with them and work our way down til we find this bitch.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, and giggled when Sam not-so-quietly whispered ‘that Dean hates witches.’

“I am right there with you on this one Dean. Right, well, obviously me, but I'm good right?” Dean and Sam both nod at you and you continue on “The three other personal trainers, the head of the cleaning company I use, oh and Abby.”

“The receptionist?” Sam queries.

“Yeah, she's got a back up set of keys in case one of the other sets gets misplaced or broken. But they’ve never been needed.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

“Just find this person. Please?”

4 days later, and the witch still hasn’t been found. And someone else had nearly died, would’ve died if Dean hadn’t ran up a flight of stairs, broken into their locker and burned the hex bag. Sitting in your office, you rubbed your throbbing temples and wondered just how your life had ended up at this point. It was only the ringing of your phone that pulled you back to the here and now.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N/N, only us.” came Dean's voice.

“How goes it boys?”

As well as being undercover at your gym, which had seen a definite increase in female clientele, Sam and Dean were also running surveillance and research on everyone. You were certain they hadn’t slept properly since they had arrived.

“Pretty dull so far to be honest.”

“Are you sure it's Paul?” you asked once more. You wanted this witch found and burned (even though you knew from Sam that one of the only sure fire ways to end a witch was with a special bullet they'd made) but it still tore at you that the person responsible could be one of your oldest employees.

“I know we haven’t found any hard evidence Y/N, but he was the trainer to 4 of the victims, and did the initial assessment for victim number 5 and the guy Dean saved the other day.” Sam said.

“Damn it.”

“Sorry. You still at the gym?”

“Yeah, gotta go through this mountain of paperwork before I get inspected for negligence...oh, too late. I’m getting inspected.”

“We'll find this witch, Y/N. We won’t let you lose your business.”

“Thanks Samuel.”

“You're welcome. You’re not there alone are you?”

“Abby just left 5 minutes ago. I promise, I'll call it a ni...”

“Shit Y/N/N, we gotta go, something's happening!” The end call tone beeped incessantly in your ear until you put the phone down. There was only one thing for it – chocolate. Making your way downstairs, you headed over to the reception desk, knowing that Abby kept a secret stash of peanut butter cups in the bottom drawer. Pulling it open, you froze. For there wasn’t any chocolate-y goodness that you had been looking for. But there was several of the hex bags just like the ones in the pictures Dean had shown you.

“What the-” And then the blow to the back of your head sent you into darkness.

Owwwww. That was the overwhelming thought going through your mind as you regained consciousness. What the hell had just happened? Your mind went back and forth trying to remember, and as the image of the reception desk drawer came into focus, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

“Oh good. You’re awake. I was worried I’d hit you a bit too hard.” The taunting tone almost went in one ear and out the other, but you finally got your senses back and looked up to see Abby stood in front of you, large knife in hand. Quickly glancing round, you realised you were in your office, tied to one of the chairs.

“You?”

“Me. Nothing personal Y/N.”

“Nothing personal?!” you scoffed.

“Well, not at first. The last couple were. It was just sheer coincidence they all came here. After all, I was killing them because they’re lying, cheating scumbags.”

“Oh, of course. Perfectly understandable.”

“And of course that last one was your fault. Calling in the Winchesters? Bad move boss.” Abby said, sarcasm dripping off that last word.

“You know the Winchesters?” As the two off you talked, you could feel the ropes around your wrists loosening with every small movement you made. Maybe if you kept her talking long enough, you could break free long enough to call Sam and Dean.

“Everyone knows who the Winchesters are. Though I didn’t think you knew who they were. That was a surprise.”

“What can I say? Girl’s gotta have some secrets.” you smirked at her, and her response was to stab you in the thigh. Crying out from the sudden pain, you blinked back tears to see the door to your office fly open and Sam and Dean run in.

“About time boys!” Abby yelled, turning her back to you and with a wave of her arm throwing Sam and Dean to the walls and keeping them pinned there “I thought I was gonna have to kill little Y/N here without an audience. Tell me, how’s Paul?”

“Still alive, even with your little attack on him” Dean grunted out.

“Oh well, can’t win them all. But killing you two, and this one?” Both Winchesters gritting their teeth in barely contained anger at Abby’s words “That's definitely a win. Now, shall we hurry and finish this thing?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” you said, and Abby turned to see you stood directly behind her, ropes still round your wrist on one hand, victorious smile on your face from having broken free while she was distracted.

“What the-” That delicious bit of irony made you smile even harder, as her words were cut short by your right fist slamming itself right into her face. A roundhouse kick followed, and you had broken Abby’s focus long enough for Sam and Dean to be let go. As the two got their breath back and scrambled for their guns, you and Abby continued to fight. She might have taken the self defence classes you put on at the gym every other week, but you had sparred with Sam Winchester. It wasn’t long before you had the upper hand, and with one final right hook, you left the bloodied woman on the floor, gasping for air.

“She's all yours Winchesters.”

Limping out of your office, you didn’t even flinch when two gunshots rang out from behind you.

Sweat ran down your face as you threw another jab-jab-cross combo at the punching bag you had set up. You’d cleaned yourself up and stitched up the wound on your leg while Sam and Dean had taken care of the body, and you knew you should be asleep. But too much adrenaline still pumped through your blood, and so you found yourself back in your gym, punching and kicking for all you were worth.

“Try widening your feet another half inch.” The sudden voice made you jump, and you turned to see Sam, still dressed in his personal trainer get up, leaning against the doorframe.

“Giving me sparring tips Winchester? Well ain’t this like old times.”

“I don’t seem to remember you having beating the crap out of a witch and then me killing it back in the Stanford days Y/N. You’ve still got one hell of a right hook though.”

“Thanks. So, what happens now?”

“Well” Sam said, coming up to support the punching bag and gesturing with his head for you to continue “You’re not the only one still too hopped up to sleep, so a good old fashioned spar is first. Then, me and Dean go back home and you carry on.”

“I don’t know if I can do that Sam.” Almost like someone’s flipped a switch, all the adrenaline goes away, and turning away from Sam you have to bite your lip hard to stop from bursting into tears at the events of the last couple of weeks.

“Hey.” Sam comes round the punching bag and gently turns you round to face him “You're coming to Lebanon in a couple of weeks right?” You nod in reply, and Sam's hands come up to wipe away the tears that have managed to break free “Call me, OK? We'll get dinner.”

Dropping his hands to his sides, Sam goes to turn away, but he doesn't get far. Grabbing on to the front of Sam's vest top, you pull him down to your lips. The kiss is slow, soft, hesitant, and breaking apart, the two of you gasp heavily for air.

“You know, this isn’t the kind of spar I had in mind Y/N/N.” Sam teases.

“You really wanna stop?”

“God no.” And then this time Sam's the one reaching for you, hands curling around your waist, his fingers almost touching, and you shiver to think of how big all of him is going to be.

Sliding your hands up to his hair, you curl your fingers in and give a light tug, and the moan Sam lets out sends a jolt of pleasure right through you. You barely want to break apart from him, his kisses making you light headed and giddy, but you know you’re going to have to when you feel Sam's fingers slide under the bottom of the sports bra you’re wearing. Taking the slightest step back, you lift your arms to help Sam in getting rid of your clothing. As he lifts it over your head, his eyes go wide at the sight of your breasts, and before you can get your hands on his vest top and even out the clothing stakes, Sam's got his hands on your waist again, but this time his lips drop down your neck and collarbone until he gets to the valley in between your boobs. As his tongue finally curls over and around one nipple, he slides a hand up to play with the other one. Switching sides, you can’t help the little mewls of pleasure coming out of your mouth, and you re-curl your fingers into his hair, enjoying the vibrations of his moans on your now sensitive nipple.

“Sam....” Your voice barely sounds like your own, so breathy and filled with lust. With one final scrape of his teeth on you, Sam pulls up and back, hands leaving your waist so he can reach back and pull off that top. You can’t help the little intake of breath at the sight of him, lean and muscular, and your fingers run themselves down his pecs, the defined abs, that bloody v line that makes your mouth water, until they’re hovering over the lycra waistband of his shorts. Glancing up, Sam's eyes are almost black in colour, lust clouding them over, and with a bravery you didn’t know you had, you curl your fingers into the waistband and pull and push them and his boxers down until they’re pooled round his ankles.

“Holy shit.” Fuck knows where Sam's been packing that, because usually lycra shows everything. Sam chuckles in response, and stepping out of his clothes and kicking them behind him, he reaches for you once more. His hands slip beneath the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing, and a deep growl leaves his lips when he realises you’re naked underneath them.

“No panties? Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Before you know it, you’re on your back on the mat, Sam’s head making it’s way lower and lower. Your back arches at the first flick of his tongue on your swollen clit, and you have to take several deep breathes to stop yourself coming already. Sam lifts his head and rests it on your lower belly, waits for you to look at him.

“You think I’m only gonna make you come once? Don’t hold back baby. I'm not going to.” And then he's dropping back down, tongue hitting everywhere it should, and you scream your way through your orgasm. Just as you’ve come down from it, you realise Sam's still laying between your legs, and you glance down only to lock eyes with him, his nose bumping your clit and tongue still teasing your entrance.

“Think I can get one more out of you before I fuck you?” Words have left you, and all you can do is nod before your head falls back. Gripping the back of Sam's head, you tug hard.

“I'll take that as a yes then” Sam laughs, planting tiny kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Gonna use my fingers too this time. Need to make sure I don’t hurt you.” Anyone else you’d have rolled your eyes at that comment, but with Sam you know it's not bragging, but the truth. Sure enough, this time round Sam's tongue stays firmly on your clit, small flicks and sucks bringing you slowly back to that edge. As his mouth works you over, he slowly teases you with one finger, then two, until finally you’re screaming once more, pussy fluttering wildly around three of Sam's long fingers, reaching spots you never thought anyone would be able to find.

Sucking his fingers into his mouth, Sam moans as you reach down and slowly pump his length. Pulling himself up to hover over you, one arm braced in a push up position, his other hand moves to cover yours and guide him just outside where you need him the most.

“Sam, please. Need you. I’m on the pill, we're good. Fuck me, please.....oh god!!” Your words are all the permission Sam needs, and slowly he pushes into you, so slowly that just as you’re used to the stretch and burn of him, the next inch comes along. By the time his hips are flush with yours, you’re sweating and writhing underneath him, desperate for a little bit more friction.

“How are we doing this baby?” Sam asks you in between kissing and sucking at the base of your neck. With one more grab at his hair, you pull so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Hard. Wanna feel you for days Winchester.” You follow up your declaration with a bite to the soft skin under his ear, and his answering growl makes his dick jump in your pussy.

Sam finally starts to move, slow at first, but with every pull and thrust you feel every fucking inch of him. By the time he speeds up, it’s all you can do but to hold on, legs wrapped round his waist and hands digging into the muscles in his back. You’re so close, and Sam instinctively knows what you need, one of his hands shifting slightly from where it had been resting on your hip so that one of those fingers can rub slow circles around your desperately swollen bud. It only takes a few circles and then you’re coming, Sam's name nothing more then a high pitched moan from your lips. You’re just about with it when three thrusts later and Sam comes as well, his cock twitching wildly within your still spasming walls, groaning your name into your neck.

The two of you lay there, breaths coming in ragged gasps, Sam's weight surprisingly comfortable. Eventually though, he eases himself off you and pulls out, a brief whimper leaving you at how desperately empty you suddenly are. He grabs his discarded vest top and gently wipes you down, a stark contrast to how roughly he’d just fucked you. Throwing the top to the side again, Sam falls back down, this time laying on his back to the side of you and pulling you towards him. Your legs tangle up with his, and you rest your head just above his heart.

“So. I don’t remember us doing that after sparring before.”

You can’t help but giggle at that.

“Nope. That’s definitely a new one for us.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“You know how I said when you came to town, we should go get dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I make that into a date?”

“Not at all. Mind if I move down to Lebanon a lot sooner then I'd planned to?”

“How soon we talking?”

“How’s this weekend sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Tag, you're it (Tag list is open btw):

@atc74 @acreativelydifferentlove @babypieandwhiskey @blacktithe7 @because-imma-lady-assface @crispychrissy @cassieraider @charliebradbury1104 @docharleythegeekqueen @feelmyroarrrr @fictionalabyss @girl-next-door-writes @growningupgeek @grace-for-sale @goldenolaf25 @honeybeedestiel @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @idreamofhazel @jayankles @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @juanitadiann @kittenofdoomage @katymacsupernatural @kathaswings @kdfrqqg @luci-in-trenchcoats @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @livelikeawinchester @laurenisnot @mrsbatesmotel53 @mspseudonymwho @mysticpizzacat @mandilion76 @notnaturalanahi @oneshoeshort @percywinchester27 @pinknerdpanda @reigningqueenofwords @rhapsody-in-flannel @supernatural-jackles @saxxxology @sis-tafics @sille1992 @sofreddie @sandlee44 @schizonephilim @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @trexrambling @viviandarkbloom06 @wheresthekillswitch @wildfirewinchester