#sorry I haven’t updated in a while guys!

[realityinsuspense]

one step closer | chapter 3: a broken bowl

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen." ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other’s lives. that was your plan. that’s how you’ve always done things, and you’ve gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst, #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutual pining

--a/n: hey all!! sorry for the slowest update in the world ahfdkafkdj but here is chapter 3! enjoy, and if u would like to be part of the tag list pls let me know :) i just started one hehe

words: 5.2k

~

chapter 3: a broken bowl

Life at the apartment continued on as usual. With the now split chores and clear communication between one another, you and Mingi settled back into that routine. And it was great! Peaceful—just how you liked it. And you’re sure Mingi liked too.

It was Wednesday evening. You were back at the apartment after another busy day of work and you were absolutely exhausted. You were also starving as well, so you headed to the kitchen to prepare an easy meal for dinner: instant ramen—the spicy kind. The thought immediately made you salivate. As you gathered two packs of Indomie from the pantry, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket: an incoming call from Hongjoong.

It’s been a while since he’s last called you, and you missed him, mentally noting that you had to get lunch with him soon. It was an easy decision—you wanted to talk with your best friend. But before pressing the green answer button, you glanced at Mingi’s door from the kitchen. He’s home early today surprisingly. Knowing he’s behind that door and could possibly enter the kitchen at any moment, you quickly run to your room and grab your headphones; you wanted your conversation to only be heard by you of course.

You pressed the button, and you were greeted excitedly by your best friend.

“Did you get San’s invite to his birthday party?” Hongjoong asked immediately. You grabbed a big pot and filled it with water.

“Yes. Trust me, the amount of times I’ve heard about this party already,” You smile to yourself and adjusted your headphones.

“Ah, this guy…I am looking forward to his birthday nonetheless,” You could tell Hongjoong is also smiling on the other end. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him too.”

Funnily enough, Hongjoong was also friends with San and Yeosang. He happened to attend the same University as the best friend duo, where they were all classmates for four years. It was only a coincidence that you all so happened to become friends. What a small world, you remind yourself.

“Oh you know San, he’s doing great! Yeosang too…And what about you? How’s your friend?” You teased. The last time you spoke with your best friend, he admitted he was slowly developing a crush on his long time neighbor. It excited you—romance gossip was always the best. You couldn’t help it, as a hopeless romantic yourself.

“Oh stop! Nothing much has been happening,” He laughed . “But I would say, we’ve been talking more and more.”

“What if you invite him to San’s?” You suggested. “I would love to meet him.”

“Ahh, yeah, but I think it’s maybe too soon for that,” Hongjoong said. “But I do want you to meet him one day. He’s great…”

“I can’t wait!” You exclaim. The water on the stove is boiling now, so you dump your noodles in and start separating the packets of seasoning.

“Well, what about you? How’s your life these days?” Hongjoong’s voice rings through your headphones as you carefully stir in the noodles.

“It’s been going good,” You chirp. “Nothing much going on either.”

“Hmmm…how is your roommate by the way? You haven’t told me much, except that he’s a mess.” He chuckles.

“Well that situation has been fixed, but honestly…” You ponder this. How is Mingi?

Ever since the chores incident, life at the apartment has been sailing smoothly again. In fact, you might even think the conversation even improved the atmosphere of the apartment. It felt a little bit more comfortable living there. Moving pasts the silence and nods, you guys now greet each other with a “hello” or “good night” here and there. The air feels less awkward and less tense. Both your schedules still work out, except you notice that recently, he’s been coming and staying home earlier than his previous hours…But you don’t think about it too much. You guys still manage to work it out! Again, you guys still keep to yourselves. Everything is still separate and unknown. Strangers, but not really strangers. Unraveled mysteries. Roommates. That’s what it feels like.

“He’s okay. We really don’t talk much though. We kinda just focus on our own things, you know?”

“Mmm…” You hear Hongjoong’s tone shift slightly. You could tell that it’s his turn to do the teasing now. “That sounds so boring!”

“Hey!” You chuckle. You turn the stove off to the perfectly cooked noodles. “It’s fine by me. I’m just here to live okay.”

Now, where is that strainer?

“Interesting,” Hongjoong says. “So… is he cute?”

“What?!” You exclaim a little too loudly after opening up the cupboard above you. You spot the large silver straining bowl, all the way on the top shelf stacked on top of your other large bowls. Did I really put these here? “What’s up with that? San asked the same thing.”

Hongjoong laughs in response. “Well, you are a single woman living alone with a man. That’s like a couple living together, no? And God knows how long you’ve been single for. I mean-wait, is he single too?”

“I don’t know about all that!” You quietly “yell” into your phone, your voice a low murmur. This is the last type of conversation to have especially since Mingi is just a room away. You glance at his bedroom door again, happily still shut.

For some reason, you feel your face flush. You felt a little embarrassed at the mention of your almost nonexistent love life once again, this time a bit more direct. And to have this thought about Mingi? Of all people! It was absurd. While you loved romance gossip, it wasn’t an exception when it came to you. Now you were finding yourself giving this little speech of justification once more. “Co-ed roommates exist you know? Besides, maybe he does have a girlfriend. But anyway, me and him? Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. And even if there was ‘something’—which there won’t—that would compromise our contract. I’m just here as his roommate to live in.”

You gently push yourself up onto the kitchen counter, your eyes locked on the stack of bowls.

“Relax, I’m just joking,” Hongjoong defends, but you could hear him grinning like crazy. “But, I don’t know…shouldn’t roommates at least bond?”

“Bond over what?” You were leaning over the cupboard, with your arm almost reaching the bowl. If you knew any better, you probably would’ve gotten a chair to help you instead. But you were too distracted, and for some reason, willingly determined, as if you knew that it was entirely possible for you to reach such height. Your fingers just barely brushed over the cool bowl holding the strainer. What you should know, was that willingness did not always equal logic.

And your desperation for reaching for the bowl at the top shelf backfired. Your fingers tried to grab hold of the bowls, but the weight made you feel unsteady, slipping out of your grasp.

CRASH

“Fuck!” You ducked just in time. But the stack of bowls toppled over and shattered on the floor, a big pile of broken ceramic pieces scattered everywhere. And of course, the strainer lying on the floor as well, perfectly unharmed.

“What happened?!” Hongjoong’s voice rang through your headphones. You carefully landed both your feet on the floor, worried of stepping on any broken glass despite the house slippers.

“Oh shit,” Your eyes went wide after scanning the broken pieces—intricate designs of blue were shown throughout. “Ugh…this isn’t good. Hongjoong, I’ll call you later, okay?” He obliged, and you promised to update him. You stood in shock at the mess in front of you.

These bowls weren’t yours.

They were Mingi’s.

And you broke them.

A million thoughts were bursting and running through your mind. Why did I think these were mine*? Why was I so distracted? I should’ve known better. Maybe I’m just really exhausted? Ugh. No excuses. Oh he’s gonna kill me. These looked really expensive. What do I say to him?*

Hurriedly, you begin to sweep the damage that had been done. But barely just starting to clean up, you hear the sound of his bedroom door opening. Fuck. At that moment, you so badly wished his life schedule didn’t change all of a sudden and that he wasn’t home. But there’s no point in hiding. He was going to find out eventually; it’s time to face it.

Your heart rate picks up as you hear the shuffle of footsteps get closer to the kitchen; you painfully continue sweeping the broken mess.

“What was-” Mingi begins as he enters the kitchen. His relaxed face turns tense at the sight of the scene before him, looking down at the broken bowls. “What the hell happened?”

You jolt up and duck your head down in apology. You suddenly feel his eyes glaring into you.

“I’m so sorry, it was an accident! I-I thought that the bowls were mine and I stupidly tried reaching for them and then I..dropped them.” Your words felt pathetic, your body feeling hot with embarrassment. You gingerly lifted your head to make eye contact with him.

You were scared out of your mind for some reason, that same intimidating feeling returning.

Silence. You scan his face for something. But his expression remains tense and indifferent, his dark hair falling just above his dark eyes. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking. But there’s no doubt in your mind—he has to be pissed.

“I can buy you a new set, I-” You blurt out at an attempt to break the painful silence.

“Don’t bother,” He says coldly, his tone full of anger and disappointment. “This further proves my point. I know we live together, but we really can’t bother with each other. Otherwise shit like this happens. The chores was already enough, and now you’re breaking my stuff.”

The words slap you in the face, and you can’t help but feel silenced. It was an accident! You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t find the courage to. You would never break those things on purpose. He must be upset; they must’ve been important to him. But even so…

Even if he was speaking the truth, it still felt mean.

It still hurt.

Mingi picks up some remaining scattered pieces where he stands and throws them in the trash bin. You continue to clean up as well; it feels like you’re holding your breath the entire time until both of you finish cleaning the mess. You were ashamed.

After you hear his bedroom door shut, you let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of disappointment and anxiety. Your noodles have gone cold.

—

That entire night, you were fueled with guilt. It makes sense to be upset about broken dishware, but it’s not like you were completely ignoring the problem. Nor were you were trying to break them on purpose. You took responsibility, apologized, and offered to purchase a replacement. Yet, Mingi refused. You began to feel worse after realizing how well you two were finally cooperating, and that living together became easier and more comfortable. He even made stronger efforts in keeping the apartment clean.

The next morning before you left for work, because you couldn’t go on without action, you slipped a small envelope of money underneath his door. It was for the bowls.

Mingi’s being upset with you bothered you to the core.

Well rightfully so, you did just destroy a very nice ceramic set of dish ware. And it didn’t look cheap, so it must’ve costed a fortune. Maybe that’s why he seemed to mad.

It only makes sense to replace it then. Besides, it would be rude of you not to. It was a gesture in your nature and out of courtesy. It was something you could do to fix the problem. But you were unclear of what Mingi wanted. What could he possibly want? What could I possibly do to fix this?

And as you were on your way to work, you felt your phone vibrate. While you were expecting a text from Hongjoong (who you updated on the situation afterwards by the way), you were surprised to find a new message from your roommate. What great timing, you thought to yourself.

song mingi (roommate): don’t need the money.

Well that was fast. But the text made your stomach churn. Seriously, this guy is so blunt. You chose to ignore the message, guilt creeping into you once again. Your thoughts followed you to work, clouding your upcoming busy day.

“That’s weird,” Yeosang scrunches his eyebrows together. “Who gets that upset over a set of bowls?”

Once again, you confided in your work friends. It was lunch time at your guys’ usual table, and you were stirring the spoon in your bowl of soup mindlessly. You were relieved it was finally lunch time, because the whole incident and text message was bothering you all morning.

“Agreed, that was totally unnecessary,” San says, eyes glued to his phone.

“Just forget about it y/n. It was clearly an accident! You’re too nice for your own good.” Yeosang presses.

“Yeah y/n, don’t stress about it too much.” San added.

“But I can’t!” You groan and throw your head into your hands. Yeosang sighs seemingly in defeat and takes a bite of his burger. “I feel guilty out of my mind.”

Just when things were starting to feel okay. Just when Mingi showed some kind decency towards you, it had to go south immediately. Things were just starting to feel comfortable and at ease. You two were finally cooperating as roommates, greeting one another, and being accommodating to one another. It was a peaceful coexistence that has once again been jeopardized—this time by you. Who would’ve thought living would become even more difficult.

“Well, if you feel that bad. I think you should just get him the new set.” San says, finally looking up from his phone, his expression bright and gentle as always.

“Should I really?” You ask weakly. It was just the push you needed.

“You really don’t have to y/n…” Yeosang smiles his comforting little smile. “But we know you, and you probably will anyway.”

My friends know me well.

—

You head back home after stopping by the market after work. Luckily, it was still open, and you picked out a similar looking set—a porcelain white set, except with tiny green floral detailing this time. It was cute, but not as beautiful as the original. The reminder made your stomach sink.

You’re sure this wasn’t as expensive as the original either, despite the sales lady claiming its value. But, you hope that it’s the thought that counts—this was your apology gift. Whether he’ll accept it or not. You only feel right doing this. And it was your fault, so you wanted to take responsibility.

Despite your fears to face Mingi once again, you knew you had to muster up the courage to properly apologize to him. Otherwise, you both couldn’t go on living this way—all tense all over again. Disrupted peace. Awkwardness, discomfort. A step backwards.

You wanted to resolve this as smoothly and quickly as possible. And enough with the overthinking!

We’re roommates for crying out loud, you thought, trying to hype yourself up as you head up your apartment building. Again, you feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. Be more confident, y/n. You’re gonna apologize properly, and then he’s going to take this damn set of bowls whether he likes it or not! You’ve been agonizing in guilt for the past few days, so he better accept this apology!

We WILL be peaceful roommates again!

After opening the apartment door, you hear sounds in the kitchen and make your way there immediately. He’s home.

“Mingi!” You bravely announce, entering the kitchen. You felt a little stupid, but you couldn’t stand the tension. “I-”

But before you could even continue, your eyes land on your roommate leaning against the kitchen counter, and you suddenly feel your face grow hot.

Shirtless?!

Mingi looks up at you with a questioning look, his pink lips pouted. “Hm?”

Standing before you, was an even more revealing Mingi. Only wearing his signature pair of sweatpants, his lean and toned physique stood out—defined abs and muscles, and.. you tried not to stare for too long, but it’s so hard not to take in. The sight was…something else.

You feel embarrassed seeing him like this, but he clearly didn’t. You could barely make out your words, the courage and hype you built up all of sudden gone.

“I- uh,” You awkwardly say. “I bought you this for you.” You place the shopping bag on the dining table. Mingi approaches slowly, and you feel your heart beating faster as he walks closer to you. He peers into the bag and sighs.

“I told you, I don’t need-” He starts. ”I’m sorry!” You interject abruptly, finally making eye contact with him. “I’m sorry! I messed up. I broke the dishes. I broke our deal. As your roommate, it only makes sense for me to do this. I’ve been feeling horribly guilty, and I am really truly sorry.”

Mingi remains silent as he glares at you, his eyes unreadable. His dark eyes scan your face, and you hope to god your face doesn’t look as red as it feels. It would be even more embarrassing.

“I-I know it won’t replace the old one, and I know ceramics can be kind of expensive,” You continue on after he says nothing, spilling your jumbled words incessantly. “Especially the ones you had, which I’m sure were so beautiful by the way. So it must’ve been frustrating. I know it’s a hassle to get new pieces like those. And…and this new set isn’t the same, but it still has some little details on it! They’re green though—but still, very pretty! The lady at the market agreed with me. So maybe it can-”

“y/n,” He says sighing, stopping you. “It’s fine.”

“No! It’s not fine,” You grab the shopping bag from the table and try to shove it into his hands, taking a step closer to him. You look up at him now, his eyes wide—probably shocked by your sudden actions. Gosh, you think, unbelievably close to a shirtless man like this. “From now on, this won’t happen again. It was just a stupid mistake, I swear. So please, just take this as my apology.” You bow your head in shame and at an attempt to stop looking at him.

After a beat of silence, you feel him gently take the bag from your hands.

“My mom made them for me,” Mingi says quietly. “Those bowls.”

You slowly look up at him once more, suddenly taken aback by the comment. And most importantly his tone—a tinge of sentiment.

“You’re right. These won’t replace the old ones,” He says before you could even respond. “But they’ll do for now. I accept your apology, thanks..”

Mingi places the bag on the dining table once again, and returns to the kitchen counter to continue preparing whatever he was making.

“O-okay, yes,” You manage to say finally. “Thank you, good night.” ”Night.” He says without looking up.

A wave of relief washes over you, and you silently head to your bedroom. You were glad that he’s forgiven you, but also feel bad to know that you destroyed his mother’s gift to him. Now that you know that fact, it felt strange. Isn’t that even worse? At the same time though, Mingi didn’t seem too angry or upset like he was previously. And talking to him this time felt a little different.

Maybe your apology was so great, he felt compelled to do so. Anyhow, you were sure that things would get back to normal again. But your mind lingered about what he said. His mom?

We don’t usually bring up things like that, yet tonight…

You shook your head, deciding not to read too much into it. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

In your room, you glance at yourself in the mirror.

Your cheeks were bright red.

Great.

~

next chapter >

< previous chapter

main menu

tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie

[apiratefellinlovewithastar]

[ID: Tentomon carrying away Koushirou while saying, “I apologize! I was unconscious!”. /End ID]

Tentomon is an ao3 fanfic writer

[olibensstuff]

perspective mayhaps🤔

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[klipkillakai]

that ony clip gave me so many butterflies omg 😩 it lowk reminded me of a punishment like what if homegirl went out for the first time in a while and missed the curfew only gave her but he see on sasha and historia ig she’s drunk shaking her ass on the car or smthn 😭😭

ouuu girl it gave me butterflies too, but you ate so lemme walk with you rq 🤭

ony was sitting on the couch rolling his second blunt while an episode of breaking bad plays in the background, he doesn’t usually get to watch this show because you usually like to watch love island or your ghetto ass reality shows that he pretends not to be invested in—

he glances at the time on his phone noting that you should be home soon and he leans back and lights his blunt, taking a hit and throwing his lighter back on the coffee table

he ticks a hand in his sweats and mindlessly smokes and watches his show, another hour passes and he checks his phone again sending you a quick text

baby moms 💙

-wya?

he quickly leaves the text and clicks on insta checking your story but seeing it hasn’t been updated for 2hrs, he quickly scrolls and finds sasha’s and clicks through them and stopping on a video of you, drunkenly singing a song and twerking on another one of your ghetto ass homegirls, ony smacks his teeth quickly standing up

“this fucking girl man” he walks towards the door, and grabs his keys, slipping on his slides and getting in his car and speeding off while trynna call you..

“bend that ass over let that coochie breathe” you slur while slowly whining on your friend as she takes a video of you guys, your having a fucking good ass time, you haven’t been out in ages and you miss it, you begged ony to let you go.. and after days acting sweet and a few blow jobs, he let you, but with rules of course.. he gave you a curfew which you gladly accepted but quickly broke as soon as you got a few shots in you—

you were feeling bold, who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do, he wasn’t your daddy! well… not all the time anyway—

your standing in your section in your own world, sipping on your drink until, you feel someone behind you, and a chill runs up your spine cause you know exactly who it is, you turn around and look up at him

“didnt i tell you to come come after 12?”

your heart sinks a bit “yea but i was having fu-

“i don’t give a fuck, i told yo lil’ ass that ion fucking trust this club and you still didn’t listen”

you smack your teeth a bit “papa your being so extra right now, nobody is even-

you feel ony’s large hand wrap around your neck and he leans in a whispers in your ear

“im gon tear yo ass up when we get home” you feel tingles bloom in your lower belly and feel your face get hot—

“tell your lil friends your leaving” you softly nod and turn around grabbing your bags and saying soft byes and sorry’s, while your friends give you knowing looks and soft smiles—

ony grabs your hand and drags you out the club as fast as your heels will let you, quickly opening the door for you, and letting you get in before speeding off once again—

“im just trynna get my paper straight” you hear brent sing as ony pounds ya shit, you let out loud moans and choked sobs, “p-please” you whimper out as you reach behind trynna to press against his stomach, running away from the dick—

“nah move ya hand” he roughly says, quickly grabbing your hand and pressing it against your back, pulling your hair, and starting to drill into you—

“oh my god” you whine, pathetically whimpering letting him just man handle you, letting out his frustrations on you…

“take that shit” he grunts, pounding into you “mhm” he whispers, tightening his grip around your hair

“i c-cant” “p-pa-

he hears you he really does, but he can’t get over this shit, not this time, you need to learn, yo lil ass get real disrespectful and he’s tired of it..

“nah tell them all that shit you was saying in the camera, let them hear all this” he lifts you up and pulls you towards the camera, while still pounding into you

“i-im sorry” you sob “im s-so so sorry papa” “pl-please haaa~ ” you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your so overstimulated and he’s so deep inside you.. too deep even, you just need a break

“b-break” you choke out.. “need a break”

“hm baby?” “you need a break” he says mockingly while biting his lips after feeling you tighten around him, “lil ass can’t even handle some dick, you think you finna go out again?” “you crazy mama”

“please!” you moan again, pathetically trying to reach down to rub your clit, to soothe some of the stretch your feeling— god it hurts so good, your eyes nearly roll back into your skull—

“you wanna break?” “here” ony quickly pulls out, breathing heavy, grabbing his phone concluding the punishment he was giving you, you lay on the bed heaving, pussy leaking more slick, your shaking and tired..

ony slaps your ass, and leaves hot kisses down your back “i bet you’ll never do some shit like that again” “right mama?” you just tiredly nod.. he slaps your ass again “let me hear you say it” “p-promise papa” “i won’t do it again” ony nods and slowly slips inside you again, this time giving you slow strokes, and rubbing small circles on your clit.. “mmm~

the rest of the night he takes care of you, ending in mind blowing orgasms, he can never stay mad at you for too long, your still his baby girl..

|a/n|

wait yall!! i’m fucking with this oneeee ouuuu, yall i love me some ony! 🤭

[23victoria]

1 v 1

lando norris x actresses!gamer!fem!reader

fc: maitreyi ramakrishnan

warnings: cussing

authors note: i like this one! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

lando.jpg

liked by charleslec.jpg, carlos55.jpg, lewishamilton, daniel3.jpg, mclaren, oscarrr.p.jpg and 2,934,897 others

gamergirl_y/n please stop killing me in COD 😓

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username1 no cause they way everyone he respawned she was there ready to kill him had me weakkkk

username2 LMFAOO she smoked you 😭😭

daniel3.jpg AHAHAHAHAHA 🤣🫵

oscarrr.p.jpg nah bro you just gotta learn how to fight back

↳ username5 @.oscarrr.p.jpg oscar please 😭✋

charleslec.jpg lando what happen to being champions?! 😪

carlos55.jpg if you suck just say that 🤣🤣

username93 lol that’s @.y/n_ig 🤣🤣

y/n_ig

liked by markruffalo, sza, rdj, yourbff, kehlani, cardib, zendaya and 4,363,991 others

got a new setup and it’s so cuteeeee!! also that boba was so fucking good we need to get some more @.yourbff sidenote whoever ln4gaming is sucks ass at COD 💀😭

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username1 nah cause the way you kept killing then 😭😭😭

yourrbff bruh i know whoever that was, was mad as helll

username6 nah cause how did you keep finding him?!?!

lovey/n but why didn’t he fight back…💀

username7 yea he needed to log off fr cause after that 😭✋

username10 you know how quickly I wouldn’t turned my shit off 😭

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sooooo…i 1 v1 @.yn_ig in COD …and sadly i lost 😓 now i owe her food 😪

username13 LMFAOOO

username12 she literally destroyed you 😭😭

y/n_ig sucks to suck ig, thankfully i wouldn’t know 🤭

↳ lando.jpg @.y/n_ig you still want food right?!? 🤨

↳ y/n_ig @.lando.jpg yes please don’t deprive me of my food 🙏😔

username8 the stream was hilarious!! haven’t laughed like that in a min 🤣🤣🤣

username17 one of the best streams I’ve seen in a while

username43 never laughed so hard 😭😭

username2 nah y/n is mad good at COD 😭

carlossainzjr lando…do better

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lil dump 💖

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username13 cuteeee 💕

username14 omggg those cookies look delicious 🥴

username15 the cookies are soo cuteee☺️

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username17 not the picture of her playing COD with lando 🤭

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username18 her rings are so niceee!!

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date nights 🥰

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username14 ummmm pause who is this??! 😧

username13 wait this is cuteeee☺️

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username73 lando off the market?!?

username03 noooo it was supposed to be me 🥲

username18 you guys make me sick

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Brazil!!! You have been so much fun!! 🤧❤️

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username13 it was so fun meeting you!!!

↳ y/n_ig @.username17 same honey!! thank you for the bracelet!! 🥹💕✨

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username7 ik the fits ateeee

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username11 we all know who she was there for 🫢🤭

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liked by charlesleclerc, sza, lewishamilton, landonorris, disney, arianagrande, oscarpiastri and 4,568,897 others guys there was two of them!!! brother and sisters!! meet Loki and Thor!!! 🥹🥰🤧❤️

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username19 OMG HOW CUTEEE 🥰

username22 THE NAMES AHHHH!! 🤭

username11 OMG KITTENS!!! 🥹

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first time having indian food and mango boba 100/10

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username19 so we just going to ignore the first pic? 🫢

username7 sir who is that?!?! 😮

username1 he’s taken nooo 🥲

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carnival!!! 🤩

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username33 they are so cute ☺️

username99 lol they aren’t even trying to hide it

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username27 couple goals fr

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↳ username19 @.username20 girl..

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dress to impress 💋✨ #oscars2024

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username19 she ate the oscar girlies up 🤭

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my boy 🥰🤭

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username3 I knewww ittt

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username6 AHHH THEY ARE THEE COUPLEEE

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username5 the funniest couple frfr

username87 the are so cuteee 🤭

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username2 wait these pics are so cuteee

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oscarpiastri finally about time congrats buddy 🥰

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[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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[harufluff]

bed head - park sunghoon

warnings - sunghoon is really clingy and has cute bed head 😊😊

genre - fluff, sunghoon x gn!reader, established relationship au

wc - 0.4k

sorry its short lol this is what i was talking about when i said update soon but i found it in my drafts and decided to finish it :) enjoy!!

your senses finally came to you ask you rubbed your eyes. the sun was peeking through the shades in your room, unfortunately brining you to a stop in your peaceful slumber.

when you finally put in enough effort to open your eyes, the events of last night came to your head. you and your boyfriend had stayed up past one am eating snacks and binging some action tv show about some zombie apocalypse.

you smiled to yourself, remembering how he had screamed every time there was a jump-scare and burry his face into your neck. being the sunghoon he is, he immediately pretended it never happened and he’s still your macho guy boyfriend.

wait- where was sunghoon? you turned around as quietly and with as little movements as possible to make sure he wouldn’t wake up if he haven’t yet.

after turning around, all you say was this crazy spiky puff of black hair. you pulled up your duvet to cover your mouth, as an extra safety precaution of giggling just the slightest bit too loud.

your hand moved to to the top of his head, where you rolled his hair between your thumb and pointer finger. at the beginning of your relationship, you always thought people failed to notice how soft his hair is and how well he takes care of it…

but you later realized later on that he never let anyone touch his hair except for you. it was something you took pride in. that he trusted you enough to let you play with his hair, as funny as it sounds.

you started hearing groans coming from him, his face still stuffed into his pillow and laying on his stomach. you took your hand away and ran your hands down his back, slightly scratching it as well.

‘noo keep doing that…’ sunghoon said mumbling still. you giggled to yourself again. his head turned in your direction with a puffy face and barely open eyes. ‘morning…did i wake you up? sorry, hoon.’

‘of course not. i was kinda already awake…c’mere.’ he said. you scooted a little closer to him and put your arms around his cute bed head while he circled his arms around your waist.

he pulled you closer than you were, somehow, considering you were already as close as you could be. ‘i love your bed head you, you know that?’ he chuckled and nuzzled his pointy nose into the crook of your neck.

‘alright. we should get up and get he day started.’ you patted his back to let him know you were getting up, but he just held you tighter and started pressing sweet pecks to your neck.

‘10 more minutes?’

©️harufluff 2023

[zorobignaturals]

Sorry for e-begging again but I’m kinda getting into emergency territory LOL. I’ve been umemployed for about 6 months almost 7 and have had no luck during that time. I have a job lined up but I still need to wait for the background check and everything to clear and even then it will be a while until I get a paycheck. I start my online university in July. Textbooks are supplied by the university which is awesome but the classes themselves I can’t afford right now. I can talk to my university counselor and see if there’s a way if I can start in fall so I can keep you guys updated on that.

I need the money to buy school supplies, get groceries, put money into my bus card so I can travel to and from work, buy my medicine. If you can donate that would be so awesome and I will be so grateful. Even if you can’t at the moment just sharing can help. I also have manga icon coloring commissions open! I haven’t made a proper commission post just yet (I’m actually working on it atm) so if you’re interested I’m that just lmk! I’ll make sure to update this with my commission prices and whatever. Thank you!

V3nmo: megpoid

P@ypál (has my birth name and 2nd last name LOL sorry): megpoids

[rimunagenius]

And They Were Roomates

☙ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

☙ word count: 2.5k words

☙ warnings: RPF!! use of y/n, not proof read.

☙ ri speaks: I need more kate martin content and i haven’t been fed the specific ones that i need so i must write them to the best of my horrendous abilities. Idek how good this will be…im sorry in advance LMFAO. also this is two thousand five hundred words but it looks a lot shorter….crying

this is also a general announcement that i will indeed be refreshing my blog, so that means new and updated master lists and posts are coming out soon so sorry if you get a spam of rimunagenius on your feed!!

Part 1

| Series Masterlist |

When you first started in Iowa, you never expected the immediate love you recieved from the people there. They were friendly, generous, and so much different from people in California. Especially your roommate, Kate Martin. You had met her shortly after your first day of Junior year. A while after, you two became roomates because you needed more space, and she needed someone to split rent with in her apartment. Sounded like a great deal to both of you.

"You don't mind?" You asked unsure. Not wanting to impose on her, possibly ruining plans with making a deal with her actual teammates.

"No! Not at all! I really like you and you're alot of fun! I'd love for you to move in with me." She beamed at you, giving you a side hug when she saw your expression change. You both were ecstatic.

Since then, you had been living with Kate for almost two years. You two had become inseparable. Always on campus together, meeting up between classes to get coffee or lunch together, sometimes with Caitlin and your other friends. It was great. You were happy with your home away from home.

You had transfered from UC Irvine and decided to pursue your degree and career in sports medicine here in Iowa City. You were one of the new athletic trainees and ocassionly a photographer; your previous major was in photography and Lisa and the administration had really loved your resume and work, so they hired you as a part time (barely) photographer, for whenever they wanted more shots than what they usually wanted or a fill in.

Currently, you were needed in the Carver stadium to help record a mic’d up practice session for the team. It was for the Iowa Hawkeye Youtube channel. You had experience because you too had a youtube channel that you started when you first transferred to Iowa. So you had told Lisa and the coaches that you’d be able to film it.

“Hey, Gabbie!” You smiled at her as you walked into the locker room, approaching Kate’s cubby to set your stuff down. Kate telling you this morning before she left that you could put your stuff with hers.

“Hey, girlie! So guess what?” You and Gabbie loved to gossip. It was so much fun and it started when you were redoing the tape on her ankles, and she looked down so you asked her about it, and since then, you both have told eachother whatever gossip you had.

“Oh my god, what?” You took your sweater out of your bag, the locker room being chilly, so you could imagine the court.

“So that boy Nick in my econ class, totally asked about you today. I didn’t want to crush his hopes and dreams but I did say you weren’t his type.” She took a seat next to where you were standing to put her shoes on.

“Wait, the boy I said would so be my type if he was a girl? That Nick?” You laughed because he was really nice and such a sweet guy but he just wasn’t a girl. Men are pretty but only to look at.

“Yes!”

“How’d he take it?” This guy has asked you out once before but you just said you weren’t looking to date. Probably should’ve elaborated on that one.

“But he asked me “Oh, who is? Does he go here?” And I was like,” she paused to reenact the face she made. “I said it too fast so I didn’t have time to say “Oh, It’s long distance or something” sooo I don’t know.” She rambled and just pulled her hair into a small ponytail.

“What do you mean? That made no sense, Gab.” You were confused. She looked guilty of something but you didn’t want to pressure her but you also really wanted to know what she had said about you to Nick.

“I kinda sorta said you had a girlfriend already, and he took that as ‘Oh, she’s dating her roommate Kate Martin’ because he said he supposedly sees you guys together everywhere.” She meant well. It really wasn’t her fault that Nick totally misread the situation.

“Oh shit.” Your jaw dropped. You thought it was awkward but now it went full fledged horrendous. You were already out, and anyone who followed your insta would’ve saw it in your stories, so you weren’t worried about that but you were worried for Kate.

“So what do we do about the fact that a random kid on campus thinks your dating Kate?”

“Ok wait, i’m actually scared. Like how do you think Kate will take it?” You were talking to Gabbie and immediately knew you fucked up by seeing the expression on her face.

“How will I take what?” Kate walked in, hair down, dressed in her practice uniform, and sat on the chair next to you. You hadn’t realized that you sat down with Gabbie. Lost in the conversation and frenzy of the new mess that could possibly affect yours and Kate’s social life dramatically.

“I’m just gonna…” Gabbie got up, and walked out, meeting the others outside on the court.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a minute.” You said to the girl before turning to Kate. You had caught her up on the lore behind you and Nick, if you could even call this one sided infatuation lore. Now you just had to tell her the problem. “So Gabbie tried to tell him that I was already seeing some girl. But Nick jumped to this whole conclusion that me and you were together.”

You watched her face. Looking for any sort of negative reaction. Waiting for her to blow up on you. “Oh.”

“And when Gabbie tried to say it wasn’t you and that were just friends, and that my supposed girlfriend lives in California, he got up and left. So it may be possible that the whole Iowa college campus will assume we’re together.” You played with your fingers as you watched her some more. Still waiting for her explosion.

“I mean, I don’t mind. He sounded weird so if it keeps the guy away from you, i’m okay with being the ‘pretend’ girlfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders. Grabbing her shoes from behind you, your chair sitting right infront of the cubby that belonged to her:

“Kate. Are you sure? This is so random and so strange and I would totally get it if your uncomfortable.” You wanted it to be clear that this situation could go away if she was uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable you’d go on a date with him and just tell him it won’t work after. It’d be bad for you if he goes around saying rude things but you couldn’t care less about people you don’t know. You just wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t the one feeling weird.

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t have to kiss you in public, right? I feel like that’s overstepping a boundary we have not thought about setting.”

“No, Kate. You do not have to kiss me in public. Wait so you’d kiss me in private?” You looked at the girl, now fully joking around as you wiggled your eyebrows and laughed.

“Oh yeah for sure.” Kate made a funny face while nodding her head before grabbing her water and standing up. You following behind to get this practice and video recording started.

“Oh, and your getting mic’d up today. I don’t know if Coach Lisa told you.” You say as you both walk onto the court.

You and Kate had showered, separately unfortunately, and sat on the couch. You had been trying to convince her the whole way home from practice to watch New Girl. She agreed after ten excruciating minutes of your nagging.

You were deciding to pick the snack you wanted, grabbing M&Ms you bought at the store yesterday, snickers, chips, and popcorn. You wanted to watch as many episodes as possible because you both started school late tomorrow and it was an off day for practice.

“What are these practices anyways? Are they like preseason workouts to get back in shape or?” You watched Kate as she picked her snacks.

“Yeah. Basically. We’re technically only allowed to goof off a little during those ones.” Kate laughed, referring to the mic’d up practice today. Coach Lisa usually wants a more focused and intimate space during the actual season. “Oh my. What if we just kill this whole tub of Neapolitan ice cream?” Kate took it out of the freezer and suddenly all your snack choices went back to the cabinets.

“Ou deal, Martin.” You grabbed two spoons before making your way to the couch. Grabbing the blanket off the backrest, and throwing it over you both. You both settled and got comfy ready to start the marathon of New Girl.

You were both sitting in silence after you decided to just do a highlight reel of episodes since you weren’t going to force Kate to watch multiple seasons. "Are you excited for this upcoming season? Your last season?" You asked as you looked to your right. Kate was seated next to you while you both decided to disregard bowls and just eat the ice cream straight from the tub. She held the tub as you both dug what you wanted out of it. She shoved more ice cream into her mouth and she smiled and nodded her head.

"I am. Just scared and sad." She said somewhat incoherently due to not having swallowed the mouthful of ice cream. You nodded your head. You had already adapted to the Kate language. When she talked while yawning, mouth full, her body language, and her facial expressions. Not many people were fluent like you, and you were actually proud to be one of the people. So you understood exactly what she meant. You saw everything else she was feeling just by the look in her eye and the shape of her lips.

But you also felt sad for her too. You’d both be a sixth-year, grad students, in a couple months. This year bigger for her more than you. This year being her last and final run in her collegiate career. This was huge. You both knew this but wanted to focus on the nicer aspects. You and the girls would support her and be her friend even if she decided to never touched a basketball again. You guys were for life.You didn’t play, so you felt there was nothing you thought you could say other than just being her friend.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. A small comforting hug, atleast a hug at which this position provided, and kissed the top of her head. You only used terms of endearment like this in small, comforting, intimate moments. You felt this was the right time. "I'll be here for you, and you have the girls. We’ll back you in whatever you do, outside of basketball and school. You can’t ever get rid of us if you tried. But I will give you all the support and all the ice cream you can eat right now." You smiled at the blonde. You both stared at eachother, a little too long, “We are not beating the supposed ‘girlfriend’ allegations right now, Martin.” She bursted out laughing. You not far behind.

"But seriously, thanks shortie." She said as she patted your knee, right before she lost it again and laughed out loud. You immediatey cringed at the name, and pushed her away from you.

"OH! my god! Immediately no, Kate." You laughed again, half embarassment and half amusement. "That is not funny. You sound like a frat boy." That earned another snort laugh from Kate.

"You're right. I'm sorry." You side-eyed her. Pulling the blanket a little closer to you. Scooting over the tiniest bit over to feign anger and hurt. Still managing to catch her movement through your peripheral.

"Bro, I'm not even that much shorter than you. Just short three inches." You rolled your eyes at your best friend, turning back to the episode where Jess and Nick kiss eachother for the first time. Your favorite episode.

"Yes, I know. I know how you feel about my short jokes. I almost cried when you ignored me for three and a half days." Kate chuckled as she looked to you her smile dropping, a frown forming when you still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, y/n. Don't ignore me again, please! I was kidding." She asked you while chuckling nervously, she asked you two more times, when that didn’t work she insisted on poking you for a two minutes straight.

"Okay, Kate. I forgive you. Now shush, my favorite part is coming up." You kept your eyes on the screen and tried to reach for your spoon in the tub. Your fingers reaching everywhere but your spoon. "Kate can you help me please?"

"Yes, but haven't you already seen this show like eight-billion times?" She grabbed a spoon, whichever one was closest, forgetting which one was which, and scooping a good spoonful, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth and took the ice cream happily.

"Thank you, you big teddy bear. God's gift, I'm telling you." You said as you watched the best scene on sitcom TV about to unfold.

"Im just going to pretend you're talking about me and not your show." Kate whispered. "You're welcome, pretty." She said louder so you could hear.

That got your attention. It wasn’t something that you hadn’t heard come out of her mouth and directed to you before; she's called you pretty multiple times when you had asked if the outfit you were wearing out looked good or if the makeup you put on was good for this dinner a girl you were seeing on and off wanted to take you out to. But she's never once used it in this context. You got a nervous feeling in your stomach, something you recognized as butterflies for sure. Fighting the urge to smile at the compliment, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. Fighting the thoughts you had about her.

It was something new but this one thing…this you weren't going to get used to. You guys were best friends and just roomates. You can't feel anyway about this.You decided to ignore it and take it as a compliment in the moment to make up for the short joke. It definitely wasn’t something serious as you were making.

"I was talking about both of you. The TV and you, Kit-Kate." You put your arm around her shoulder and continued to watch the show. Watching the scene you had been waiting for all night to play. “This was the best cinematic experience I have ever had.” You whispered, now reaching for the spoon again for some ice cream.

Kate beating you to it, already having got another spoonful for you, feeding it to you like she did a couple of seconds ago. You smiled and thanked her before you both decided to cut the show, and search for a movie of both your choosing this time.

[dc418writes]

Welcomed Distraction

Summary🪄: Both you and Frankie need comforting after a tough day

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, happy adult fun times (be safe out there!), breeding kink, unprotected p-in-v, language, unclothed female-semi clothed male, mention of pregnancy/trying for baby

A/N🎤: Hello🌸 long time no see (*ahem sorry🥴) lol. So firstly, this is my very first Pedro boy fic and I’m v nervous (then again when am I not 🙃). Also, this is my submission for the #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel and I’m hoping you guys enjoy what I came up with, as well as read the other works (or even submit something yourself!✨)

*DISCLAIMER(S)!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they all were found via Pinterest. Although my works are typically imagined with a black!reader, everyone is welcome to read*

At the sound of your sigh as you locked the door behind you, Frankie knew what kind of day you had. Not to mention the way you took off your shoes.

If you gently toed them off next to the others, taking your sweet time, you were exhausted and would more than likely crash on the couch once you eventually sat down. Left them scattered making your own little trail from the door? You were excited about something. He was man enough to admit that although he knew you were very happy to see him, - flashing your bright smile before pecking his lips and updating him on what your day entailed - that excitement was mostly for his son. “How was your day huh?,” you’d ask the adorable eight month old making him giggle from all the kisses you’d leave on his juicy cheeks. “I missed you!”

When you’d kick off your shoes though, not caring when they’d knock against the wall - like you did tonight - you were pissed. And Frankie just hoped it wasn’t something he’d done or forgotten to do.

“Everything alright?,” he asks over his shoulder while he mutes the football game currently on tv.

“I secretly hope that place burns down overnight so I won’t have to step foot in it ever again.”

“So no,” Frankie states as you finally make it to the couch with a beer in hand. A much needed smile curls along your lips - and in turn loosens a bit of the tension still plaguing you from earlier - noticing the boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant on the coffee table in front of him. Before you can say anything, his strong hands are gripping your hips guiding you towards his lap. Both sets of your lips automatically being drawn towards each other as you settle in your favorite seat.

Well second favorite.

“Francisco Morales I’d marry you right now if I could.” He only chuckles leaving a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, first it started with a couple calls from patients upset they needed to be seen before getting a refill. Like I’m sorry you haven’t shown up for your appointments in two years!” A grin spreads on his pink lips as he gently shakes his head of envy inducing chocolate curls.

“Then for a while now I’ve been getting calls when the phones are supposed to be on downtime. It’s also happened to the lady that sits next to me a couple times, so she decides to say something. My manager just says ‘well if you’ve given your extension out or if it’s transferred to you, then the phone’s gonna ring’.”

“But if the phones are down in the first place, either way that shouldn’t happen,” your boyfriend finishes practically reading your mind.

“Exactly! But nooo it has to be something I’m doing, it can’t be the shitty phone system.” Frankie knows you’re angry - and reasonably so- but he can’t help the way his stomach flutters at your cute little groan. How he wants to kiss that pout away until you can’t remember why you were mad in the first place. “Maybe he’ll listen to you since you have a penis.”

“Just tell me when and I’m there baby,” he murmurs against your neck trailing kisses from your pulse to your jaw. His mustache prickling your skin and making you softly giggle.

Even if you didn’t say, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a little visit to the clinic within the coming week. Standard manners and gentle smile to everyone else as if he was just innocently coming by to see his girl when you both knew he was liable to strangle the slender, uptight man once he set his eyes on him at the mere mention of making you upset.

“Then, as the cherry on top, the last call I get today is this guy getting mad at me because his results aren’t ready, which I have no control over since I don’t work with that doctor,” you explain taking a quick pull from the sweating bottle in your hand. “I keep trying to tell him there’s nothing I can really do, but then he has the audacity to say ‘You’re not understanding me. I need this for another appointment and now I’m not sure if I’ll make it!’ Sir I understand fine; don’t insult my intelligence. Still won’t get you your results sooner.”

The stranger’s words and harsh tone repeats in your mind only making you upset all over again. And not only could Frankie see it, but he could feel the effect such a short interaction had on you. Your back practically going rigid with tightness and prompting him to rub soothing circles over your shirt trying to relax the muscles there. That vein near the pulse in your neck on full display as if standing in solidarity with you.

A stream of frustrated air leaves your nostrils trying to remind yourself that everything was in the past now. How tomorrow would be a new day with, hopefully, little to no rude patients. “Sorry, I know that’s probably my ego talking-,”

“Still doesn’t give him, or anybody else, the right to talk to you like that.” So two men he now needed to hunt down. No problem. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

You simply shrug - your attempt to brush it off feeling like you need to be strong and just forget - as his lips softly press against your temple. “Comes with the territory. How was your day though? Hopefully better than mine.”

“It was alright. Elaine came by with ‘hot shot’ to get Isaiah.” Hot shot being her new fiancé that was some fancy lawyer based out of Los Angeles. They met a few months after she broke up with Frankie and got engaged not long after.

“And how did that go?”

Now was Frankie’s turn to shrug taking the offered beer from your hand to get a pull. “Fine. Said hello, made sure she had everything, then left a few minutes later. Short and sweet.”

Although they’ve had this arrangement since baby Isaiah was just a couple months old, it always hurt Frankie having to let his son go. The apartment was uncomfortably quieter without the little babbles and gurgles, and no longer felt like home. Given he’d see him again next week, but he’d began to worry if his ex would move away now she was engaged. Wanting to start fresh with the ‘man of her dreams’ and start their own family.

And if that happened, who knows when he’d see his son again.

The thought’s kept him up plenty of nights unknown to you, but his solemn mood is easily read looking into his brown eyes. Your palm caresses his cheek bringing his attention back to you on his lap. Thumb softly tracing over the worry line between his brows before leaning in to tap your nose against his. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your boyfriend just nods flashing a glimpse of a soft smile. A quiet, “I know,” falling from his lips after pecking your full, bottom one.

“If it’d make you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

Any time you said that in the past, he’d just chuckle and shake his head. Maybe even click his tongue before he’d reply with, “let’s focus on this one for now.” It’s not that you were trying to give him a replacement kid, you just hated to see him sad. And similar to how Frankie was willing to do anything for you, you were easily as smitten for the former military pilot.

His larger hands - slightly rough from years of work - grip your hips gently moving you so your thighs now straddle his hips. A glint in his darkening eyes that surprises you, but also has a familiar sensation building between your legs. “You mean it?”

The husky way he whispers near your mouth has an embarrassing moan slipping past your lips that even catches you off guard. A wet patch growing in your panties already as you nod nearly dumb just from his voice alone.

His lips crash into yours rhythmically moving together as if one was complimenting the other. Your fingers tangle in his silky strands while his tongue glides over yours and hands knead at your lower cheeks. You can’t help but grind and shift trying to find some sort of friction as your core throbs incessantly.

“Frankie please,” you pant. His mouth descends to your heated neck nipping at your skin while his hand moves to toy with your achy nipple through your top.

“Have to tell me what you want baby.” He sounds nearly gone himself - hardness poking you through his jeans - but he chooses to tease instead. Any other time you might play back with a smart reply, maybe a little edging, but tonight your need is too strong and mind too hazy with lust and the man beneath you for games.

“N-Need you in me..now Frankie.”

A deep groan vibrates in his chest when you bump against the now prominent bulge becoming painful from the quick rush of blood. “Can’t say no to that now can I?”

In a flurry of movements, Frankie’s removing your scrubs and underwear between deep, hurried kisses, and soon you’re bare; quickly unlatching his buckle to remove his stiff and reddened member leaking and more than ready for you. The mess between your thighs makes it easy to slide down, taking him inch by inch until you’re both connected and moaning from the tightness.

“Fuck don’t think I’ll last,” Frankie grits shifting to taste one breast while his hand plucks and squeezes the other making you whimper. “Feels so good baby.”

Adjusted enough, your hips begin to move and bounce filling the living room with slaps of skin and moans. You try to contain yourself - worried about being that couple - but when Frankie plants his feet on the plush carpet below bucking up into you so hard you have to grab the armrest while your other hand grabs his broad shoulder, you can’t control what leaves your mouth.

“Wanna give me a baby huh? Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want everybody to know you’re mine?” His grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the morning. “That I’m the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“Yes!” The faster you both move, you can see and feel stars. Feel hundreds, maybe thousands, of them tickle and prick your skin that have you believing you have to be experiencing something other worldly. Your spirit ascending to some sort of nirvana that you’d never want to come down from.

“Shit - might have to just keep you on my cock. You like that idea?,” he grins biting at your earlobe.

You frantically nod. “D-Don’t stop, please baby! Mm there..Frankie..Frankie!”

Gripping the back of your neck bringing you as close as he can, Frankie buries his face in your neck letting your noises and babbling spur him on. You’re both painfully close - panting and sticky with sweat - just needing that extra push only you could give each other.

“Shit, feel you squeezin’ me. Cmon let go I got you.” Shifting to the edge of the couch, he angles just right where your swollen nub gets the nudge and pressure that has your back arching and toes curling. You feel teeth and curses growled against your neck along with the spurts of his release inside you as his pumps become staggered and slower.

All that can be heard now is you both catching your breaths and holding onto each other as if afraid to somehow float away from the post orgasmic high.

“You okay? Still with me?,” Frankie asks tracing his thick fingers up and down your spine. You merely hum in response making the man you love chuckle. His pride loved how sleepy and clingy you got in the midst of your afterglow.

“Alright let’s get you cleaned up.”

His strong arms easily keep you attached to his sturdy chest as he stands ready to take you to the bathroom. Your nose automatically nuzzling and running along the side of his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat. “Wait!”

He halts just before stepping into the hall. “What’s wrong?”

“The food,” you sleepily reply making him grin kissing your shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“M’kay,” you yawn comfortably closing your eyes as you’re gently rocked from him beginning to move again. “Have a baby.”

He knew it wouldn’t happen that quickly, especially with you still actively on birth control, but the thought of you carrying his child had a warmth spreading along his bones. He could vividly see you with a hand on your extended belly smiling and glowing like the sweetest angel. Isaiah would nearly be two, but walking around keeping a close eye on his sibling.

Did it also make Frankie nervous? Of course, but he couldn’t lie that his excitement of seeing a bright eyed bundle that looked exactly like you outweighed the fear.

“Yea, we’re having a baby.”

-

Loosely inspired by the rough day I had at work some time ago🥲 lol. But again I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if I missed any warnings!

[hysteria-things]

Can you make a two part fic about Chris x reader having twins a girl and a boy you can choose the names!

PHOTO ALBUM (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip down memory lane when chris discovers a photo album.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SO MUCH FLUFF, flashbacks, happy tears

CHRIS AND READER ARE SET TO BE OLDER!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,299

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m debating for part two to have a little bit of cute smut in it. what do you guys think🤔

the knot in your neck pops as you move your head from side to side. you love them to death, but having twins is hard work, especially if they’re six months old.

it’s their afternoon nap time, so you just put them in their cribs. you walk down the stairs, seeing baby toys still scattered all over the place. chris was supposed to clean up, but instead, he’s sitting on the sofa with a photo album in his hands.

he’s smiling widely, dragging his finger down the page and flipping. crossing your arms, he looks up at you. “i’m sorry. i got distracted.”

you giggle. “i can tell.”

“but come look at this.” he motions with his hand for you to go over. you do, sitting on his lap as he flips back to the cover. “we haven’t updated this in a while.” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder.

written in black marker were the words BRAEDEN AND LYDIA.

starting this album was chris’ idea. he and his family love photos because photos are memories. he didn’t like the idea of taking pictures on just a phone, and he had a camera lying around. why not put it to use?

PHOTO I

“hi guys,” you say into the phone, glancing around the bathroom. you’re not actually showing this to anybody, but chris isn’t home yet and whenever you’re nervous you like to talk to somebody, even if it is to yourself.

“so, um…” you trail off, grabbing the clear blue pregnancy test box and putting it into the frame. “i’m like ten days late.” you chuckle, opening the box with your shaky hand.

you bite your lip, reading the directions before doing your thing and closing the cap on the test. “so now we wait… what is it? three minutes?” you double-check before nodding. “yeah, three minutes.”

tapping your fingers impatiently, you stare at the loading screen. a simple screen that can determine the rest of your life in a matter of minutes. “i’m scared, but also excited. chris and i weren’t trying but we wouldn’t be upset either. like whatever happens, happens, you know? we’re prepared either way.” you laugh nervously, rambling on and on.

this is the longest three minutes of your life.

“it’s time.” you say, taking a deep breath and covering the test. “oh god.”

a few inhales and exhales later, you uncover your hand cautiously to have a peek. it takes you a bit and a double-take before you grab the object and bring it closer to your face.

a happy sob leaves your mouth before you cup your hand over it and turn the test to the phone. you’re shaking from the adrenaline, but the words are clear on the screen.

‘pregnant.’

while washing the dishes, you hear the front door click open. you smile over your shoulder when chris starts walking to you. “hey.”

“hi!” he exclaims, kissing you on the cheek.

you nod your head to the pot of pasta on the stove. “i made some noodles.”

“thanks,” he says, still smiling and kissing you once again, but this time on the lips.

as he goes to make himself a bowl, you stop him. “i want to show you something.”

furrowing his brows, he looks at you confused. “am i in trouble?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “no.” there’s a hint of emotion in your tone. “close your eyes and open your hand.”

he wants to question you but decides not to and follows your instructions. your eyes start to tear up, pulling the pregnancy test out of your pocket, and place it in his palm.

he opens, seeing your beaming face until he looks down. his eyes widen tremendously. “you’re lying.”

you shake your head, wiping the tear falling from your eyelid before grabbing his face. “you’re lying!” he repeats, this time more energetic as his tears start to form, even though he’s fighting it. “we’re going to have a baby?” he whispers, voice cracking.

“we’re going to have a baby.”

you wipe his eyes until he jolts. “hold on.”

he jogs over to the bookshelf in the living room, grabbing the camera that has been sitting there for god knows how long, and putting it up to his face to look through the hole. “pose!”

the shutter goes off, and that’s where it all begins.

PHOTO II

sunday dinner is a tradition the sturniolo’s have. chris insisted on doing a post-dinner photo, making the others confused but do it anyway. he’s never this excited.

he finishes setting the camera up on the tripod, sprinting back to the group since it’s on a timer.

the camera beeps as it’s counting down, and once it’s at the three-second mark, he speaks. “everybody say… y/n’s pregnant!”

the flash goes off, getting everybody’s reactions all in one.

PHOTO III

“it’s going to be a little cold, but you should be used to it by now.” the ultrasound tech says, and you chuckle. chris sits beside you on a stool, looking at the moving black-and-white picture.

everything’s going smoothly with your pregnancy, a small bump now visible. it’s the twelve-week scan.

you get chills on your body when she puts the gel on your abdomen, moving the device in circles to find the baby as the three of you look at the screen with her stethoscope is in her ears. “huh.” the doctor hums, scooting closer to the monitor. “do twins run in either of your families?”

you and chris look at each other, and then back at the woman. “i’m a triplet.” chris says.

she smiles, nodding her head and bringing her pointer finger up to the screen. “see these? there’s baby a and b. i’m hearing two separate heartbeats, too.”

you rub your forehead while smiling, chris staring in awe at the two moving babies in your belly.

the tech lets you two have your moment, printing out the ultrasound photos. “congratulations.” she says, handing the photos to you.

PHOTO IV

matt and nick were the gender holders, and they dropped off two little cakes from the bakery not long ago.

you and chris didn’t want a big party. you wanted this moment to be between you and him.

you guys set up a picnic blanket in your backyard, the cakes labeled A and B between you.

he’s wearing a blue shirt while you’re wearing a pink summer dress. “are you ready?” he whispers, hovering the knife over the first cake. you hold the other one.

you nod, biting your lip to keep the excitement flowing through your body. “three… two… one…”

slicing a piece, you wiggle in thrill as you plop your piece down on a plate. he mirrors you.

his piece is bright pink, while yours is bright blue. he leans in, squeezing you tight and kissing you passionately on the lips.

“i love you so much,” he says, smothering pecks all over your face. he makes sure to capture this moment on the camera that leans against the picnic basket.

“i love you more.”

PHOTO V

there’s nothing like holding your child for the first time. in this case, there’s nothing like holding two at the same time.

“they’re so precious.” you say, cooing at the one you named lydia. “and so tiny.”

the nurses and doctors left after checking everything to give you guys space. they’re both perfectly healthy. a tear trickles down your cheek, now staring at braeden. “thank you, chris.”

he shakes his head. “this was all you, baby.” he kisses your temple, going to the end of the bed and adjusting the lens. “smile for me, beautiful.”

CLICK!

there are other photos from holidays, but the first five pictures have a special place in your heart. they’re the key moments to your little family that you and chris are growing.

together.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual

[marvelsmylife]

A happy ending

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: Cassian decides to visit when he discovers you also provide massages. One thing leads to another, and you help him relax in more than one way.

A/n I’m sorry I haven’t updated this story in a while but I’m excited to work on the requests you guys have been sending me.

The inner circle’s whore masterlist

Being the general was hard work, but Cassian enjoyed his job. That was until today. He had a rough week dealing with Devlon and training the Illyrian soldiers at Windhaven. He came home so wound up and needed to relax before he went off on someone who didn’t deserve it.

That’s when he remembered Feyre mentioning that you used to be a massage therapist before moving in with them. She would rave about you and your world-famous massages. Sure, he knew you were there to please all of them sexually as well, and he’ll probably take up that offer in the future, but right now, he just wanted a nice massage.

Cassian stood nervously for a few minutes after knocking before your door opened and revealed a disheveled Feyre in a silk robe. “Oh, it’s you,�� Feyre sighed: “I thought you were Az. He’s been a pain in our ass for the past four hours.”

“He probably wanted to join you two,” Cassian joked, “Um are you two still busy? I can come back-”

“It’s ok, we were just finishing up,” Feyre walked back to you and kissed you before exiting the room and heading straight to hers and Rhysand’s room.

Once Feyre was gone, Cassian stepped into your room and closed it carefully. He tried his hardest not to stare at your naked body but failed miserably. You noticed and laughed softly, “How can I help you Cassian?”

“I-umm,” Cassian didn’t know why he was so nervous. He wasn’t even there to have sex; he just wanted a massage, but seeing you lying naked on your bed made him question if he still wanted the massage or something else. “I heard you offer massages,” Cassian blurted out, “I was wondering if I could get a massage from you.”

A surprised expression appeared on your face at Cassian’s request, “Yes, of course you can! Have a seat while I set everything up.” You got up and started setting up for Cassian’s massage.

Fifteen minutes later, you had Cassian naked and lying face down on the massage table Rhysand and Feyre bought you when you moved in.

Throughout that time, Cassian let out grunts and moans at your hands, working the knots he had formed from his stressful day. “Turn over for me please.” You tapped Cassian’s back and moved so he could turn over.

Once he did, you bit back a smile when you noticed Cassian had an erection, “What’s wrong?” Cassian asked. That’s when he looked down and realized he had an erection, “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” 

Cassian tried to cover his erection with his hand, but you placed your hands over him, “It’s ok. It happens more often than you think. Would you like for me to take care of that as well?”

He knew he should say no. But with his constant fighting with Nesta about her sleeping with other men and ignoring him, Cassian thought he deserved a little treat. “Ok,” Cassian finally said while removing the towel covering the lower part of his body.

Not wasting time, you grabbed his cock and pumped it a few times before bending down and taking it into your mouth. Cassian let out a long sigh feeling your mouth around his cock. It’s been a little over two years since he’d had sex, and he honestly couldn’t remember when was the last time someone gave him a blowjob, so he didn’t know how long he was going to last.

“You can use me however you wish,” you reminded him while massaging his balls and taking him deeper into your mouth.

That, in turn, caused Cassian to growl and rested his hands on your head, and started fucking your mouth. He felt a sense of pride hearing you chock on his cock and only encouraged him to go faster until he found himself cumming down your throat. “Fuck ! ! !” Cassian exclaimed.

All you could do you moan as you swallowed Cassian’s cum. “Out of all your brothers, you taste the best out of the three of you,” you smiled at him and wiped the side of your mouth. 

Cassian had a cocky grin at your compliment and found himself getting hard again. “You were very wound up when I was massaging you. Let me fix that,” You removed your robe and climbed up the massage table. 

“Fuck,” Cassian cursed. His eyes were half shut as he watched you squirt body oil on your chest and start rubbing it all over your body.

In one swift motion, you sank down onto Cassian’s cock and started riding him. “Just lay back and enjoy. I’ve got you.”

A lazy grin was plastered on Cassian’s face, watching you ride him. Your bare breasts were shiny from the oil you spread throughout your body. “You’re so beautiful,” Cassian sighed and caught your attention.

“Thank you, Cassian. I think you are handsome.” you bent down and kissed Cassian on the lips as you began to ride him faster.

Cassian wrapped his arms around your body and started thrusting upward. Grinning when he hears your whimpers and moans against his mouth. “You like that?” Cassian asked as he thrust faster, “You like having my cock buried inside your sweet little cunt.”

All you could do was nod as you tried to sit up so you could try to control the pace, but Cassian didn’t let you. Instead, locks you in place and continues his brutal pace until he feels you tightening around his cock. “CASSIAN!” You shouted, and Cassian finally let you go. He watches you sit up and start bouncing on his cock until you come undone.

That’s all it took for Cassian to reach his orgasm. “Fuck” Cassian groaned as he found himself cumming inside you.

You rode him through his orgasm and only got off when his cock went soft inside you. “I told you to lay down and that I was going to take care of you,” you scolded Cassian while you got off him.

“I’m sorry, but in my defense, you told me I could do whatever I wanted with you, so I did,” Cassian sat up and pulled you closer to him, “Thank you for doing this for me. I had a rough week with training, and Nesta-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” you interrupted, “Let’s go get cleaned up, and maybe we can continue, but this time, I’ll be in charge,” you dragged Cassian into your bathroom. Where he proceeded to ignore your orders and instead bent you over and fucked you in the shower.

@lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @golden-canyon @nayaniasworld @slut4acotar @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @harrystylesfan2686 @heartless-tate @fussel9913 @123345566 @paleidiot

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni. 

— friends with benefits / blade x f!reader. cw: 18+ content, angst, catching feelings.. lol, modern au, college setting (?).

synopsis: friends with benefits with blade, but is it really benefiting the both of you? are you both genuinely benefiting from the setup you both have, or could it be causing unforeseen complications? can you keep your feelings at bay, especially when the physical intimacy is so compelling that everything else seems to fade away?

NOTES : don’t fall in love with your fwb !! HAHA made this since a lot of people are thirsting over him in my inbox (you guys are heard) also, sorry for the slow/late updates! might make a part two (continuation) if some people demand for it ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ meanwhile, i just wanna have a situationship with yingxing.. 

despite being in the same circle of friends you met through college, knowing him was no different than meeting anyone else (or at least you think) from hopping on clubs to another one with your friends was how you met each other. however, your relationship took an unexpected turn. if it wasn’t for your friend who kindly asked blade to take you home after you had too much to drink, things might have been different.

you can’t even comprehend how things escalated to this point. your friend would even frequently ask why you’re constantly not present during their night clubs. however, it would always end up with you responding to their messages while you’re completely preoccupied by him, as he fucks you dumb on your apartment. yet, you would always find yourself waking up to a cold bed, right.. you two only agreed to this. the thing is you both benefitted physically but not mentally. you both know this isn’t perfect but it is what you both agreed on, and he’s been fine with it, at least on the surface. 

truth to be told, you can’t even remember the last time you actually had a genuine conversation with each other, without it devolving into a heated, passionate fuck in whichever room he’s dragged you into, or even in your own flat – not like you want him to know, no.. you don’t want to break this thing you have with him yet, at least not now. 

in fact, you would even ask yourself if you can still handle this situation with him – whether it's during friends’ gatherings or just in general, it’s as if you barely know each other, like you're just a fleeting presence in his life. but behind closed doors, it’s as though the two of you can’t get enough of each other – fucking until midnight, until you plead for him to touch you in a way that no one else has. until you forget the unresolved feelings you have for him.

— “you sure have a lot going on in your mind even when i’m this deep inside you,” his laughter was low and throaty, filling the quiet room as he pressed himself deeper into you. the sensation of his breath cascading across the sensitive skin of your neck sent shivers down your spine. his rough stubble grazed against your tender flesh, creating a light, teasing contrast – and a fresh hickey, a silent testament of the night's fervor, adorned your neck as a token.

right, you were probably too absorbed in your thoughts. it wasn’t like you were always this way, but you often found yourself deep in thought whenever you two fuck lately.

“what, since when did you become a psychic?” you queried, a gentle chuckle seeping from your lips. your fingers gracefully danced through his hair, twirling and playing with the strands as you gazed at him. a playful glint sparkled in your eyes as a thought crossed your mind. “perhaps, the reason i can still manage coherent thoughts is because you haven’t been fucking me enough, blade." you teased, the hint of a challenge lingering in your words – but you intended to strike at a nerve, and you guaranteed it with the way he suddenly tightened his grip on your hips. the most satisfying part to you. as if you can count on your fingers with how many times he fucked you dumb enough to even think straight.

“is that so? well, i can’t have you thinking i’m not trying hard enough, can i?” his deep laughter echoed throughout the room in response to your playful banter, a sound you’d grown accustomed to — a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, he liked it when you’re being like this.. when you’re being cheeky, maybe too confident enough to think that he can’t fuck you until you’re a mess. “well then, i suppose we just have to rectify that,” his voice held a teasing edge, as he shifted his position, his cock slowly mushing the walls of your pussy, making you whine. his hands trailing up your sides — causing a shiver to ripple across your skin. his eyes, filled with lust, locked onto yours.

“do you want me to force it out of your system or should i just take you out of your senses?” his voice dripping to a low growl that sent a thrill through your core, your eyes slowly watching the way he moves — his smirk widened at your sharp intake of breath with the way his hands began to roam over your body, generating sparks wherever they touched.

it was moments like these, when the world outside between you seemed to fade away, that you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him, despite the complicated thing you both have. 

“…i’m open to either option,” you muttered softly, pausing momentarily to consider the weight of your words — a playful grin displayed across your face, reflecting your proposition, as you continued, “but i think, i’d prefer to have both if possible.” a teasing giggle bubbled up from your chest, a sweet melody that filled the tension between you two. almost unconsciously, your hands found their way to his neck, fingers gently tracing his neck, adding an intimate touch to your playful jest — filled with anticipation. 

blade could only reply with a chuckle, but you knew you were in for it. soon enough — he’ll have you fucked dumb on the mattress, until you’re a crying mess on his cock, until you two forget about the topic on hand. you don’t even plan on telling him, not this time. but at least you get what you want.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Heart | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, SMUT 18+ MDNI, elements of dom/sub, oral (m and f receiving), orgasm denial (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid. wrap it up.), face riding (f receiving), begging, cockwarming

Word Count: 6046

A/N: Giving the people what they want. AGAIN. MINORS! GO AWAY!!! SHOO! TAKE A JUICE BOX AND A STICKER ON THE WAY OUT!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“Here he is, Detective,” the young mortician said to Sam as she pulled the body of a man out of a cold locker. The man had stitches running along his chest, stomach, shoulders, and throat; some reminiscent of deep bite marks.

“That’s a pretty nasty bite,” Sam commented. “You know what bit him?”

The young woman averted her eyes. “I haven’t quite determined that just yet.”

“C’mon, Doc,” you pleaded. “Off the record.” You left Dean back in the motel room once he promised you he’d stay put.

“Okay,” the mortician began, “way, way off the record—”

“Sure,” Sam nodded.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was attacked by a wolf. But unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos, I’m going with pit bull.” She eyed Sam cautiously. “I like my job.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Sam chuckled.

“One more thing. This guy, was his heart missing?” you asked.

She seemed surprised. “Yeah, how did you know that? I haven’t even finished my report.”

“Lucky guess,” you shrugged.

You and Sam left the morgue and began the drive back to Dean. 

“How’ve your nightmares been?” you asked Sam while he drove out of the morgue’s parking lot.

He turned to you quizzically.

“What? I hear you up at three in the morning,” you smirked.

“I get up early anyway. How do you know I still have ‘em?”

“You don’t have a great poker face, Sammy. When something’s bothering you, I can literally see the wheels in your head turning,” you replied.

He sighed. “I’ll get over it.”

You shot him a look.

“It’s just— It’s not just Jessica anymore,” he explained. “It’s my dad, it’s what Meg did while she took me for a joy ride—”

“That sounds dirty, man,” you cut in.

He gave you a playful glare. “It’s like I told you. I’m scared as hell.”

You stayed silent for a moment. “Hey, you’re still you. And that’s all that matters.” You turned to face him in your seat, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t gone all ‘sith lord’ on us yet. And I honestly don’t think you will. You just… you don’t have that in you.”

His lips curled into a sad smile once more. “Thanks, (Y/N/N).”

“Any time.”

“Any update on you and Dean?”

“Oh, would you look at that, we’re here,” you smirked as Sam pulled into the motel parking lot.

He glared at you. “(Y/N)—”

“I know, I know, we’ll talk later,” you giggled. You headed into the brothers’ motel room. Dean was cleaning his guns on his bed, and you explained what you’d seen and found out from the mortician to him. The lawyer you’d examined wasn’t the first heart-free corpse, but he was the first man. Over the last year, several women had gone missing; their bodies washed up on shore, but were too deteriorated to make out anything besides the fact that their hearts were missing. The lunar cycle was exactly right for a werewolf killing as well.

“Awesome,” Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?”

“I’m sorry, man, but what about ‘a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight’ don’t you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven’t seen one since we were kids,” the older brother protested.

“Okay, Sparky. And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland,” Sam snarked, making you giggle.

“You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down.” He held up a silver bullet. “One of these bad boys right to the heart. So, what’s our next move?”

“Talk to the girl who found the body,” replied Sam. 

***

The girl who found the body had sharp, angular features and beautiful dark hair. You could tell Sam was slightly enamored by her from the second she let you into her apartment. The woman introduced herself as Madison. She showed an older man who’d come to check on her out of the apartment and motioned for you to take a seat at her kitchen table. 

“You must be pretty shaken up,” started Sam. “You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?”

“For two years, yeah,” she nodded.

“So, you knew all about him?” Dean questioned.

“Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was…” she trailed off, smiling uncomfortably, “he was nice.”

“But?”

“Nothing, really. I— He had a few scotches in him, and he'd started hitting on anyone in a five-mile radius. You know the type.”

You looked over at Dean, given that was the one thing about him you disliked. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

Dean noticed your look, and he shrank a little at your apparent disappointment. “Did, uh, did he have any enemies?”

“What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

“No, yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might have had a beef with him – a former client, an ex?”

You noticed her discomfort and pressed further. “What is it?”

“Well, this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt—”

“Kurt have a last name?” Dean cut her off.

“Mueller,” she answered. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s… well, he’s kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“Kurt got into it with Nate; threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job,” she explained.

“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean asked.

“A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar, and Kurt showed up,” Madison replied.

“And?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. It was like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth, he scares me.”

“I can understand that,” you told her.

She gave you a smile. 

Madison led you out of her apartment, and Sam wrote his number down for her to call you if she needed anything. 

***

As night fell, Dean suggested you head to the ex-boyfriend’s house to investigate if he lived in a creature’s lair. Upon arrival, you discovered Kurt wasn’t home. However, you felt uneasy. You chalked it up to the fact that you were breaking and entering, but you’d never felt anxiety in a situation such as this previously. It almost felt like something was watching you.

“(Y/N/N), you okay?” Sam asked you upon noticing your discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just… hurry this up. I got a bad feeling about this.”

“Okay, Skywalker,” Dean quipped. 

“Anything?” you asked, ignoring his comment.

“No, nothing but leftovers and a six-pack. No human hearts behind the Haagen-Dazs either,” he replied. You suddenly heard a door open and close followed by a crashing sound coming from outside. You shared a brief look with Sam before running out to the balcony. Down the wall of the building, there were claw marks in the concrete wall, sliding all the way down to the ground.

You cringed at the sight. “That’s just great.”

Seconds later, you heard a gunshot. You ran down the fire escape and out of the apartment, heading toward where you thought you’d heard the gun fire off. When you arrived at a dark alley, you saw the boot of a person sticking out from the shadows. Cautiously, you approached, only to find the body of an incredibly mauled policeman.

“I’ll call 911,” Sam told you and his brother.

Dean bent down to the corpse. “I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo.”

“I don’t know, man, his apartment didn’t scream ‘creature’s lair’ to me. Aside from the fact that it’s a standard bachelor pad,” you remarked.

Dean eyed you unamusedly. “I’m gonna ignore the implication there that all men are animals.”

You grinned. “I’m glad you caught my drift.”

“Guys, if he’s out here, we better check on Madison,” Sam said, interrupting you.

***

When you arrived at her apartment early in the morning, the older man you’d first seen in Madison’s apartment when you initially visited him peeked his head out of his door. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Police business, Glen,” Dean responded.

Madison opened the door, her face drooping slightly when she saw you. “What is it?”

You shot a look over at Glen.

“Well, maybe we should talk privately,” Sam suggested.

She nodded, still confused, and led you into her apartment. “Coffee?” she asked.

Sam accepted happily, as did Dean. You still felt uneasy, and thought you might vomit if you had something to drink.

“Has Kurt been here?” Sam asked her as she poured a cup for each of the brothers. 

“Not exactly,” she replied.

“What’s that mean?” you asked.

“Well, he was outside last night. Just… looking. Just looking at me. Has he done something?”

“We’re not really sure,” Sam answered honestly.

“It’s probably nothing, but… we just don’t wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you?” Dean suggested. “Just in case he stops by. Where does he work?”

“He owns a body shop,” she replied.

“You mind grabbing that address for us?” 

She nodded and started out of the room.

“Thanks,” Dean called after her.

“Alright, you go. I’ll stay,” said Sam once she was out of ear shot.

“C’mon, (Y/N),’ Dean said.

“What?” Sam questioned. “No pushback? You always wanna hangout with the hot girl.”

“Yeah, well…” the older Winchester trailed off, “Not this time, I guess.”

“You guess?” Sam scoffed. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Dean just rolled his eyes, and a smile tugged at your lips. You thought you may have something to do with Dean’s change of heart. 

“Bundle up out there, alright?” Sam said to you and Dean, shooting y0u a knowing look when his brother had turned away. You grinned back at him and followed Dean out of the apartment when Madison returned with the body shop’s address. 

Dean started the drive to Kurt’s place of work, and you eyed him thoughtfully.

“What?” he asked without even turning to look at you.

“I wouldn’t have anything to do with your change of heart about staying with the cute girls, huh?” you asked, already knowing the answer. However, a large part of you just wanted him to say it out loud.

He flickered his eyes over to yours, never turning his head from the road. “No, ‘course not,” he replied. 

You deflated slightly, although you knew vulnerability was difficult for him. You really and truly just wanted to hear how much you meant to him.

“Alright, fine,” he grumbled after a moment of silence. “It’s got everything to do with you.”

A smile spread across your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Good. I’m glad.”

*** Later that day, you discovered Kurt hadn’t been to work in a week. But because Dean was “really good,” if he did say so himself, he found out he was probably frequenting his favorite strip club.

You didn’t mind going; you enjoyed hyping the girls up. If you were a stripper, you’d much rather a girl stuffing ones in your bra than a creepy fifty-year-old man. Although, you were slightly concerned about the way Dean’s eyes were glued to the ass of the woman dancing in front of you. You couldn’t lie, though, she was hot. As long as he looked and didn’t touch, you were content.

The pretty girl in front of you bent down to take a ten dollar bill from your hand, wiggling her hips seductively as she did so. You held her gaze as she stuffed the bill in her bra with a few other ones she already earned. 

Dean suddenly seemed slightly possessive. He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“Jealous much?” you asked. 

He used the arm around your shoulders to push your face towards his, kissing you wantonly. You hummed against him just before he pulled away. You nudged his nose with yours, sighing happily. You turned back to the girl dancing only to see the man you knew to be Kurt taking a seat at the opposite side of the stage from you and Dean. You gave Dean a look, and he immediately took out his phone to call Sam.

“I found him,” Dean said, eyes on the girl dancing in front of the two of you. “Oh, yeah, my eyes are glued. Look, Sammy, I gotta let you go. I, uh, I don’t wanna... don't wanna miss anything.” He handed a dollar bill to the stripper and smiled widely when he hung up the phone. 

After about an hour of generously tipping the strippers and having a few drinks, Kurt got up from the chair across from you and Dean. When he’d gotten a significant distance away, you and Dean wordlessly got up from your chairs to follow him. However, not before you turned and said, “Bye, girls!” to the dancers. The one that had been predominantly dancing in front of you and Dean waved and blew you a kiss. You blew one back, grinning. 

You followed Kurt back to his apartment and sat outside, waiting for him to make a wrong move. You readied your gun, jerking to attention when you heard glass shattering. You looked back up to see the lights in Kurt’s apartment were off.

Dean breathed out, “What the—?” and you motioned for him to follow you up the fire escape. You hurried into Kurt’s apartment through the shattered window only to find Madison over the top of Kurt’s mauled body. She turned her electric blue eyes toward you and growled, bearing sharp, bloody fangs. She lunged at you, throwing you to the ground. Dean shot at her and missed, and you used her distraction to get a knick in at her arm just above her elbow with a knife you had stored in your sleeve. She howled in pain and ran out the open window. 

“Motherfucker,” you cursed, uncocking your gun. “Dean, start wipin’ down your prints, we gotta get outta here,” you told him. He tossed you a handkerchief and you took care of the floor where you’d been knocked down by Madison, the fridge from when you’d first gone to investigate Kurt’s house, the countertops; everything. When you were done, Dean helped you climb out of the window without touching the sill or knicking your legs on a piece of broken glass. 

As the morning sun rose, you called Sam. 

Sam’s immediate response to your call was, “You guys okay?” 

“Yeah. It’s Madison, Sam,” you said, cutting straight to the chase.

“What?” he asked.

“Yeah. How’d she get out without you noticing?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep.”

“Well, she wasn’t an hour ago. Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with a silver knife,” you told him.

Sam hung up the phone immediately after. You instructed Dean to go to Madison’s apartment, and he did so. You knocked on the door of her apartment, and the door opened to reveal an upset Sam and Madison tied to a chair by her wrists.

“How you doin’?” Dean smirked bitterly, strolling into the apartment.

“We’ve gotta talk,” Sam told the both of you firmly. You eyed him questioningly as he led you and his brother into another room. “She says she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

“She’s lying,” Dean responded simply.

“Or maybe she really doesn’t know she’s changing, you know? Maybe— maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out,” Sam argued.

Dean deadpanned, “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk. Come on, dude, she ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious.”

“Yeah, but what if it was, Dean? I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats? Hell, the cop, too.”

The older brother scoffed. “What are you, the Dog Whisperer now?”

“Look, man, I just… I don’t know, there, there, there was something in her eyes.”

“Sam, don’t let your attraction to her cloud your judgment,” you stated.

He scoffed. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Do you? This isn’t seeming like a completely rational argument, dude,” you argued calmly.

“(Y/N), I just think it may be something she has no control over. You can believe me or not—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything. She can’t control it. That’s bad news.”

“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl’s chest who has no idea what’s happening,” Sam argued, voice rising slightly.

“Sam, she’s a monster, and you’re feeling sorry for her?” questioned Dean.

“Maybe I understand her.” Sam paused, and his voice quieted down. “Look, there might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her.”

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Dean asked.

Sam seemed to understand and took his dad’s journal out of his jacket. “Dad’s theory – ‘lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline’.”

“Might have a cure,” Dean emphasized. “Meaning ‘who the hell knows’?”

“I’m not sure about this one, guys—” you sighed, scratching your neck.

Sam shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

“We don’t even know where to start looking, all right? I mean, the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago,” Dean replied.

Sam seemed to realize something. “No. I don’t think so.” He led you back into the room where Madison was still tied up. “Madison, when were you mugged?”

She seemed not to want to answer. Either she really had no clue what was going on, or she was a damn good actress.

“Please. It’s important, all right? Just answer the question,” Sam begged.

Reluctantly, she said, “About a month ago.”

“Did you see the guy?” the younger brother pressed further.

“No. He grabbed me from behind.”

“Did he bite you?”

Madison seemed taken aback. “How did you know that?”

“Where?” Sam continued, ignoring her question. 

She still looked scared, but was honest anyway. “On- on the back of my neck.” 

Sam showed her he was setting his gun down and slowly moved behind her. He gently brushed her hair away and exposed a scarred lump on the back of her neck.

“Oh, that’s just a love bite,” Dean snarked. “Believe me, that could have been a lot worse. Where were you at the time?”

“Walking home from a friend’s loft,” she said.

“Let me guess. Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Sam questioned.

Madison nodded, eyes bleary in confusion. You could tell some of this was beginning to make sense to her, and agreed to sit with her while the boys went into another room to talk.

“So… you really have no idea, do you?” you asked, sitting in a chair across from her.

She didn’t answer you.

Your tone immediately shifted. “Look, lovebug, I don’t think you get what’s going on here. I’m gonna need you to answer my questions, okay?” 

She scoffed. “What, about the fact that you guys think I’m a fucking werewolf? You realize you sound insane, right?”

“You’re a pretty good actress, I’ll give you that,” you said. “And… if you are telling the truth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t ask for this.”

She was silent for another moment.

“But you have to understand how this all looks, okay?” you continued. “People that are connected to you— Kurt, the lawyer that was creepin’ on you— they wind up dead. Then, you attack me after you kill Kurt, and things are just supposed to be all hunky-dory now? Just because you say you can’t remember?”

You seemed to have grabbed her attention. “Kurt’s dead? Oh, my god.” She began to cry softly.

You were conflicted. She seemed to be genuinely reacting to what you were saying, and you wanted to believe her. However, every instinct within screamed at you to put a silver bullet through her chest. “Madison… can you at least understand how this looks to me? Whether you think I’m crazy or not, do you at least see where I’m coming from?”

She laughed humorlessly through her tears. “You mean, if I was a deluded psycho who pretends to be a cop hunting for monsters? Yeah, I’d understand where you’re coming from.”

The boys emerged from the room. “Alright, (Y/N), you’re with me,” Dean asserted. 

*** You and Dean went to Hunter’s Point, the werewolf that had “mugged” Madison’s assumed hunting grounds, and searched for the monster. You heard a woman scream, and the two of you ran in the sound’s direction. The woman, presumably a hooker, was being dragged across the pavement by her ankles toward the werewolf.

“Hey!” Dean called. 

When the creature looked up, you and Dean shot at it multiple times; each hit landing in the center of the creature’s chest. The hooker immediately scrambled away, not even sparing a glance to you and Dean.

“Hey, don’t mention it!” Dean called after her.

“Take it easy,” you scolded. “She’s scared.”

The two of you turned back to the dying creature on the ground, and you discovered it was Glen, Madison’s neighbor.

“It happened... again,” Glen coughed. 

You knelt beside him.

“Where am I?” He asked you. “H–help me. Oh, god. Oh my god.” He choked again, coughing up blood. 

“Alright, easy, Glen. Just take it easy,” Dean told the man.

You and Dean watched as the older man’s eyes glazed over and his shuddering subsided. Your heart almost broke for him; he truly seemed to not understand what was happening to him.

***

The morning after laying Glen to rest, you and the brothers sat outside Madison’s apartment in the Impala. You planned to wait out there till the next morning to see if Madison transformed, or if you really had cured her. 

Dean was explaining Glen’s death to Sam. “It was sort of sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on. Hey, why do you think he turned Madison instead of just killing her in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her,” Sam suggested.

“Maybe his primal instinct did, too. Maybe he was looking for a little, uh, hot breeding action.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“So?” you questioned, leaning over the back of the seat.

Sam eyed you quizzically. “So what?”

“Madison…?” you urged.

“Oh, whatever.”

You lightly shoved his shoulder. “Don’t ‘whatever’ me, kid, you liked her.”

“(Y/N/N), she thought I was a stark-raving lunatic,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, a stark-raving lunatic that saved her life,” you challenged.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that.”

Madison suddenly appeared at Sam’s rolled-down window. “You know, for a stake-out, your car’s a bit conspicuous. What are you still doing here?”

“Honestly? Uh, we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight, but we’ve gotta be a hundred percent, so… you know, we’re… lurking,” explained Dean.

“I know this sounds crazy—” Sam began.

Madison cut him off. “Sure does. Well, if we’re gonna wait it out… we might as well do it together.”

She led you and the brothers back up to her apartment. Madison seemed to hesitate before she spoke once inside. “You were telling the truth, weren’t you? About everything. What you did— it was to help me.”

Sam nodded.

“I did all of those horrible things,” she said remorsefully, “when I turned.”

“You didn’t know,” coaxed Sam.

“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” the brunet answered. “You turned middle of the night last night. I think we’ve gotta hang in until sun-up.”

You watched Sam carefully, and Dean gave a tiny nod. “Well,” the older brother began, “it looks like we’ve got ourselves a few hours to kill. Poker, anyone?”

“Always,” you said. 

***

Several games later, the sun sank, and the moon rose. Dean laid his gun on the table, and Madison and Sam watched him with unease.

“Oh, no, you guys talk,” Dean chuckled awkwardly.

***

Hours later, the sun came up.

“Does— Does this mean it worked?” Madison asked hopefully.

Sam sighed in relief. “Yeah. I think so.”

Madison threw her arms around Sam. “Oh, God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Dean cleared his throat, and you jabbed him with your elbow at his interruption of their moment. 

Madison laughed. “You, too, Dean. Thank you. Same to you, (Y/N).”

You nodded. “Well, Dean and I have some, uh… stuff to go do.” You pulled on the older brother’s jacket, lugging him out of the room. “Bye, Sam, bye, Madison.”

“Smooth,” Dean commented once you were out of the door.

“Look, I didn’t wanna be in there any longer than necessary. Room stunk of sexual tension,” you chided.

“Between me and you, or Sam and Madison?” he smirked.

You scoffed, “Smooth,” mocking his earlier statement. 

***

As soon as the door to the motel room was shut, Dean’s lips were on yours. You shoved his back against the door, pushing his jacket down his shoulders. You bit his bottom lip eagerly, and he moaned into your mouth.

“(Y/N), what are you doing to me,” he groaned.

“Shut up,” you ordered, tugging his hair harshly. You shoved him down onto the bed and teasingly ghosted your lips over his clothed chest all the way up his neck and stopped just before his lips. He tried to lean up to kiss you, but you wouldn’t let him. 

“Stop teasing,” he growled, almost sounding pitiful.

You tsked. “You didn’t ask very nicely.” You rolled your hips over the hardening bulge in his jeans, and he groaned again. 

“(Y/N), please,” he whined.

“There’s my boy,” you grinned, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands were all over you in an instant, and you kissed down his neck. You got his shirt off before taking his pants off and palmed him through his boxers.

“(Y/N), stop it,” he begged.

“Stop what?” You took your hand off, worried you’d done something wrong. 

“Teasing,” he whined. “Just touch me, please.”

You’d never seen him so spaced out before. The shit-eating grin returned to your face, and you went back to dragging your fingers along the underside of his shaft through his underwear. “I am touching you,” you playfully said.

He thrusted up into your hand. “Oh, god, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually,” you cooed. 

“(Y/N), please suck my dick. Please, sweetheart. I need you,” he begged.

“Atta boy,” you said, happily taking his boxers down his hips. You began teasing the tip of his penis with your tongue before taking the whole thing into your mouth. You sucked on him earnestly, and his hips stuttered, trying to thrust up into you. You held his hips down firmly, but couldn’t keep his hand from winding in your hair. You felt he was close to ejaculation and quickly took your mouth off him. 

“What the fuck?” he questioned, chest heaving.

You gripped the base of his cock harshly. “Watch your mouth,” you said lowly. 

“Oh, god, sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

You grinned at the thought of having such a tough and strong man turning to absolute putty in your hands. 

“I-I wanna touch you. Please,” Dean heaved, clawing at your shoulders.

You slinked up his body, sitting gently on his stomach. Dean pushed your shirt up, running his hands underneath it to get to your breasts. He groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, and you threw your head back at the feeling of him tweaking your nipples.

“Sweetheart,” he started, “Ride my face. Please.”

Heat flooded between your thighs at the thought. “Okay,” you said, suddenly feeling nervous. You pushed your jeans off and hovered over his face. You were afraid to settle onto him completely, but that trepidation was quickly subdued by Dean grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his lips, his large hands firmly keeping you there. You moaned instantly when his tongue immediately found your clit, sucking harshly. 

You eagerly rolled your hips against him, half trying to escape the immense pleasure and half trying to move toward it. Your orgasm approached quickly, and you screamed his name as you came.

When he finally released you, you moved off him to reveal a shit-eating grin spread across his glistening face. You gathered up the slick that had collected on his mouth with two of your fingers and shoved them into his mouth, and he sucked them harshly. You got back on top of him, settling right over his hardened dick.

“You ready for me, baby?” you asked.

He responded by thrusting against you, catching you off-guard. You gasped and lined up with his cock before slamming down onto him. You rolled your hips in time with his, and he pulled you down to his lips to kiss you. Dean’s erratic thrusts were making you dizzy, and he soon rolled over on top of you to finish getting the both of you off. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and he buried his face in your neck as the two of you came together.

Gasps and moans filled the room around you as you both rode out your highs. Dean stayed fully inside you, even after he came, and adjusted the two of you to where you were lying on his chest with his dick still inside you. Completely content, you fell asleep on top of Dean. 

*** The next morning, you woke up before Dean as usual. His cock had softened, but was still nestled firmly inside you. You gingerly slid off him and moved to go get showered and dressed, only to have him grab your hand as you tried to step away to get a fresh set of clothes. 

He hummed, “Morning,” and pulled you back down to him.

You giggled and yelped as you came crashing down back to the bed next to him and pecked his lips. “Hi, handsome.”

He kissed you again. “Y’know,” Dean started, kissing you once more. “I’ve never—” kiss, “—let anyone—” kiss, “—besides you—” kiss, “—do that to me.” 

“Well, good. I’m happy to be the one and only,” you smiled against his lips, standing once more.

Just as you and Dean had finished getting dressed and were going to head for some breakfast, there was a pounding on the door. You opened it to reveal a completely breathless Sam.

“ She— she turned,” he said.

“What?” you asked, shocked.

“I couldn’t grab her in time,” he continued sadly.

Dean came up behind you and put a hand on your waist to let you know he was there. “We’ll find her, Sammy.”

Sam continued to panic as you headed down to the Impala. He told you Bobby knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work, and any other hunter he’d called said there was no way to cure a werewolf.

“How come she didn’t turn when we were with her?” Dean asked. 

“Dean—” Sam began.

Dean cut him off. “So, what, you put her to bed and then she wolfed out? Maybe she’s gotta be asleep to turn.”

“What the hell does it matter, Dean? Look, we’ve gotta find some way to help her, some legend we missed or something.”

“Sam, I don’t think so, man,” you chimed in. “Somebody would’ve known about it.”

“Well, then we have to look harder! Until we find something,” he protested, welling up with tears.

“Sammy, I don’t think we’ve got a choice here anymore,” Dean sighed. “I hate to say it. She’s a sweet girl, but part of her is—”

Sam cut him off. “Evil? Yeah, that’s what they say about me, Dean! So me you won’t kill, but her, you’re just gonna blow away?”

Before Dean could argue, Sam’s phone rang. “Madison, where are you?”

Upon hearing that, you and the brothers quickly got to and into the car without needing to say a word to each other. “Alright, hold on, Maddie. We’re coming to get you, just stay where you are,” Sam told her before hanging up the phone.

*** Back in Madison’s apartment, she sat clad in a shirt Sam had been wearing the day before at her kitchen table. Dean’s favorite gun sat before her, and she eyed it, emotionless. “I don’t remember anything. I probably killed someone last night. Didn’t I?” she asked hesitantly.

“We don’t know that yet,” you reminded her.

The brunette looked up to Sam. “Is there something else we can try to make it go away?”

“We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere,” Sam tried.

Dean’s voice rumbled through the air. “That’s not entirely true. Madison, you deserve to know. We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure.”

Madison turned back to Sam and then looked over to you. “Is— Is he right?”

The younger Winchester stood and turned away, choked up.

“We thought about tying you up, but one day, you’re gonna bust out,” you told her. “And then… someone else dies.” You paused thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. I am.”

“Me too,” Dean added.

Shakily exhaling through her tears, Madison resigned herself. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then.”

Sam turned back to her. “Stop it. Don’t talk like that.”

Your heart broke at the sight of Madison picking up the gun and walking it over to Sam. “Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Put that down,” he begged.

“I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me.”

A tear slipped down Sam’s cheek. “Madison, no.”

“Sam… I’m a monster.”

“You don’t have to be. We could find a way, alright? I can. I’m gonna save you,” he said, although you know he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“You tried,” she sighed, crying harder. “I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you.” 

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I don’t wanna die. I don’t,” she continued. “But I can’t live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I’m asking you to save me.”

Sam shook his head again, and Madison watched him intently. Cautiously, Dean walked up behind Madison and gently took the gun from her. Sam immediately stormed off to another room.

You exchanged a look with Dean before following his younger brother. 

“Sam,” Dean said, holding up the gun. “ I’m sorry.”

The brunet shook his head, still crying. “No, you’re right. She’s right.”

“Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it,” Dean replied bravely.

“She asked me to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Please.” He held out his hand for the gun, tears flowing steadily now. Dean couldn’t seem to manage handing it to him, and you carefully took it from his hand. Sliding a hand up Dean’s back to comfort him, you held the gun out to Sam. 

Standing with Dean, rubbing circles over the middle of his back with your thumb and tucked into his side, you watched Sam walk out of the room.

“Just wait here,” he told you. His whole body tremored, and his face shone with tears. He hesitated a moment before moving toward the other room. 

Now that it was just the two of you, Dean clutched your hip harder and allowed a tear to roll down his cheek. You stood by him silently, allowing him to allow himself to feel for a brief moment. And then, you flinched at the horrible sound of a single gunshot coming from the next room. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 6- Apologies ☕️

You’ve woken up to the sounds of the birds chirping and the morning sun peaking in through the windows. You would’ve loved waking up in the giant room provided by Ayaka, if only you weren’t so violently hung over.

The feeling of being incredibly nauseous while remembering some of the memories from last night, started hitting you like a semi truck.

Why did you have to drink so much? You’re never drinking again.

You always say this but never actually stick through with your word.

You loved being drunk but hated the consequences that come the next morning. Your phone was buzzing with new messages. Have you always hated the sounds of notifications? Or was it the headache talking? Annoyed, you checked your phone.

Bergrudgingly, you got up. As soon as you stood up however, you felt like you needed to throw up.

Quickly, you rushed to the toilet. Expecting for something to come out. Nothing did.

“I hate being hungover.” You quickly muttered before making your way to the dining room.

You noticed everyone had arrived before you. They all looked like shit. Including you. Mona was in deep explanation of how she read Yae’s birthchart. Apparently the woman has a lot of baggage.

You sat down in between Hu Tao and Mona.

Ayaka handed you a bowl of miso soup, “It’s for your hangover. You look rough.” She smiles.

You quietly thank her. The miso soup looks good but were you able to eat this without throwing it back up? You took your chances and fed yourself.

Luckily you didn’t.

Before you could finish the soup, Hu Tao turned towards you.

“So are you going to explain what happened last night?” She questioned.

You cleared your throat and explained your experience at the party. From start to finish. Everyone had listened intently to your story. Someone would occasionally gasp.

.

.

.

“Well he sure does know how to act like he cares about someone.” Mona mentioned. Scaramouche is actually a good actor.

It seems like he practiced on you the most.

As you were showing the group the texts you sent to Scaramouche and Childe, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Childe. Everyone began freaking out.

“Shit what do I say??” You were panicking because you didn’t really expect him to answer.

“Maybe an apology?” Lynette suggested.

So fucking annoying.

He’s so fucking annoying.

How can he be like this? Why was he being like this? You heavily sighed. The audacity of this man.

Lynette looked up at you, “Is everything alright?”

You put your phone in the middle of the table and stood up.

“Yes. Everything is so perfect.” You replied sarcastically, “Ayaka thank you for the breakfast and sleepover. Have fun everyone reading those stupid ass texts. I’ll be getting ready to leave.”

When the words left your mouth, you walked away and towards the room you were sleeping in.

As you were packing up you heard a knock at the door.

It was Hu Tao. She was returning your phone.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. He’s such a big dick. You don’t deserve this. She pulled you into a hug.

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it. It’s how he is.” You reassured her.

She helped you pack the rest of your stuff.

You then said goodbye to everyone and got inside your car.

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A/N: Hi I’m back! Ik its been a few days but I haven’t been feeling the best so I took a while to update. I’m still sick but I feel better enough to update even if this chapter was a bit short. Another written chapter I hope you guys like it!! Also pls ignore the typo in furina’s text I meant to put ‘parties’ 😭

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

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