#feeling like i too might die any day now

[animentality]

My mom has cancer.

And I'm scared.

And I'm angry.

And I'm sad.

But I can't be any of those things because she needs someone to support her right now and it's not about how I feel, at all.

So I'm going to keep my crying to myself.

I'm going to get my shit together so she has nothing to worry about from me.

And she knows she's the one who's allowed to not be ok right now.

God.

I hate how people just...don't live forever and ever.

If anyone deserved to, it's her.

[snekdood]

You fucking idiots dont fucking get it. ive been taking care of plants since i was 14. Ive tried FUCKING EVERYTHING. Fungus gnats are just apparently gonna exist around me no matter what i do or try, apparently just like these yerfs who also seem to be breeding like maggots.

[tnettnba]

I am clothed. I am housed. I have food. And from here, I can hear my car snoring peacefully. I am here. I am alive. I am loved. I am ok.

[k0kichiimagines]

sometimes i think i am a little insane

[tsurugis]

my ass cant fucking sleep because i think my brain is coming to terms with the fact that i cant ignore i might have cancer back lol last thing i want is to find out for sure but here we fucking are

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining

I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~

Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one

TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out

🪽The King of Pining🪽

This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.

“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”

Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.

“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.

Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.

You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.

“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.

When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.

“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.

“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.

“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”

As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?

“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.

~night of the party~

You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…

A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.

Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.

Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.

From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.

With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.

“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.

“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”

Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.

Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.

“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”

Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.

The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.

Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.

“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“

You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.

Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.

Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.

With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.

“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.

“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.

[laiiaaa]

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.” 

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder. 

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call. 

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…” 

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline. 

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

[reiderwriter]

Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.” 

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question. 

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again. 

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.” 

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water. 

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view. 

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie. 

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.” 

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed. 

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you. 

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.” 

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now. 

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt. 

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket. 

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure. 

You needed to make your need for him explicit. 

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.” 

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny. 

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.” 

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property. 

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!” 

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still. 

[astonmartinii]

reluctant cupid | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem bff!reader

you could set your bestie up with a driver or you could confess your feelings? lando norris is dumb.

based on this request: Could you write something about being best friends with lando and he tries to help set you up with another driver you have a crush on, but then he realises he actually likes you so he has to sabotage all the wingmanning he’s done and you end up together Idk if that makes sense 😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 -@mbappesleftthigh

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 49,340 others

yourusername: someone please save me from the grips of hinge and this oh so lonesome life

view all comments

user1: girl knows the whole f1 paddock and looks like that and is still alone there is NO HOPE for me

user2: this post might have thrown me over the edge

landonorris: "i'm so lonely" "why don't you approach that guy" "no too scary"

user3: that's so real though

yourusername: thank you!

landonorris: how do you expect to find a boyfriend when you don't like to talk to anyone and treat hinge like a gameshow

yourusername: i didn't come here for actual advice let me commiserate in peace. god, can women have anything these days?

landonorris: ???

yourusername: oh! idea! pretty please set me up with one of your friends? they have to be great otherwise you wouldn't be friends with them, right? RIGHT?

landonorris: i guess...

yourusername: please lando, i've never asked for anything before

landonorris: i can feel you pouting through the phone

yourusername: so you'll consider ?

landonorris: fine...

user4: bro either gotta admit his feelings now or be condemned to be in the plot of a weird romantic comedy

user5: i personally don't think i can wait until the third act break up with this side character LANDO ACT NOW

oscarpiastri: you'd really trust lando's judgement?

yourusername: he's friends with me, he's got good taste?

oscarpiastri: touche

maxverstappen1: whatever you really wanna say oscar, you gotta keep it in, these idiots will figure it out eventually

yourusername: ???

landonorris: ???

user6: the grid are so done with their asses i can't 😭

user7: but what if the universe doesn't intervene and lando really has just lost the girl forever?

user8: bestie we can't be thinking like this

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 812,047 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: being back home means being bothered by her (and whatever is her newest hyperfixation - it's sylvanian families this month if you couldn't tell)

view all comments

user9: i am so sorry but they are so in love

user10: it's cute in the movies, but these blind bitches are starting to piss me off

yourusername: THEY CAN HEAR YOU, BE A BETTER DAD

landonorris: they're not my children

yourusername: you take that back right now, you LOVE them

landonorris: you spent my money on them yes

yourusername: that's fatherhood, buddy. buckle up

user11: whoever he sets her up (if he's still dumb enough to do that) is gonna be the biggest third wheel in history

user12: who would willingly sign up for that

user13: me. i would. i have two working eyes and have seen y/n

maxverstappen1: who are these funky little critters and how can i procure some for p?

yourusername: finally a man with sense, literally any grocery store or toy store

maxverstappen1: perf

yourusername: if lando stops being mr. grumpy i'll ask him if i can come to a race and p and i can play animal families

landonorris: i am NOT mr. grumpy

maxverstappen1: you kinda are dude. is it the set-up is it stressing you out?

landonorris: nO

yourusername: then why are you putting it off !!! lando i might die from terminal yearning !!!

landonorris: i have an interested candidate

yourusername: really? do you think they'll actually like me? like this isn't a pity date right?

landonorris: nope!

user14: lando is typing through tears as we speak

user15: if y/n does go on a date with someone from the paddock i actually hope it goes well, as one lonely girl to another, it's tough out here we need one win

f1wagupdates

liked by user18, user19 and 11,043 others

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

f1wagupdates: turns out lando is a bit of a cupid as his childhood friend y/n y/ln was spotted out and about with carlos sainz.

view all comments

user20: HE ACTUALLY DID IT

user21: that moment when you're so down bad for a girl that you set her up with your best friend

user22: that moment when you're such a wimp you can't admit your feelings and set up the girl you like with a literal GREEK GOD

user23: i am so bamboozled by this move he literally looked like a kicked puppy on his stream bro this is your doing 😭

user24: she's a lover girl she's going to get her heart broken :(

user25: this has mess written all over it

user26: she's literally described herself as a terminal yearner i feel like she'll throw herself in and will get hurt

user27: UNLESS! this is all part of the plan? what if lando set her up with a messy guy like carlos so he can be the shoulder to cry on and that's how he slides in?

user28: that's very convoluted, very rom-com but i'll take it if it means we get lando and y/n together in the end

user29: i know this probably won't last long but can we all appreciate how hot this couple is?

user30: lando and y/n runs rings round y/n and carlos

user31: lol lando is a bad friend for setting her up with CARLOS him and charles are THEE red flags

user32: i hope y/n is prepared

user33: also lando hasn't thought it fully out if his plan is to be the shoulder to cry on because he's just opening her up to be called a homie hopper or a paddock bunny

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 702,554 others

carlossainz55: productive weekend with my girl

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user34: well that's not y/n

user35: that finished faster than i expected

user36: lando DO NOT quit your day job

landonorris: call me bro

carlossainz55: si, cabron

user37: i don't think they'll be cabrons after this call

user38: maybe this is all just going to plan?

user39: yall gotta give up this conspiracy theory maybe these people are just as dumb and mean as they seem to be

user40: soooooo... what did we all do this weeekend?

user41: i broke a girl's heart @carlossainz55 twins 👯‍♂️

user42: AHHHH???

maxverstappen1: oh that's not-

yourusername: you're so chronically online :(

maxverstappen1: you're alive?

yourusername: yes. coming at you live from the bed i'm currently rotting in

maxverstappen1: not going to say i didn't warn you?

carlossainz55: really? in my own comment section?

yourusername: one second, we're having a conversation here

maxverstappen1: yeah carlos, gosh.

carlossainz55: i'm so confused

user43: okay power move to just start a conversation in his comments?

user44: the power of confusion is simply unmatched

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 56,309 others

yourusername: certified boy hater

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user45: a ferrari boy will do that to you

landonorris: feeling hashtag victimised rn

yourusername: obviously doesn't include you girlypop. but you seriously need to reevaluate your judgement

landonorris: carlos is attractive?

yourusername: he ghosted me?

carlossainz55: i am right here

yourusername: blocked.

landonorris: did you actually just block him?

yourusername: yes 😀 !

landonorris: god this is a nightmare

yourusername: not if you'd take a GOD DAMN HINT

landonorris: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

user46: yall this is a public instagram comment section

user47: don't say that, this is their argument in the rain moment

user48: lemme grab the popcorn 🍿

maxverstappen1: this better not include the real number one girlypop here

yourusername: of course not pookie

oscarpiastri: you gonna continue the lil spat above this?

yourusername: no?

oscarpiastri: well some people (max and i) would like to listen so please continue

yourusername: no, i don't think i will

oscarpiastri: GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE INSUFFERABLE

maxverstappen1: what oscar said

user49: oscar and max are so real

user50: they can't leave us on this cliff hanger

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,043,788 others

landonorris: some snaps from '23

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user51: have we just been thirst trapped?

user52: i don't think it was intended for us

user53: this has "i am hotter than carlos sainz" written all over it

yourusername: posting tits on main, brave.

landonorris: i came second in singapore.

yourusername: sureeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. modesty, ever heard of it lan?

landonorris: slutshaming isn't cute y/n

yourusername: you kinda have to pull to be a slut lan. you are under qualified for the position

landonorris: if you keep being mean to me i will call your mum or my mum.

yourusername: try it. i see cisca more than you, i have faith in her

landonorris: the line is busy. are you on the phone to MY mum right now?

yourusername: maybe.

user54: we're so close to them getting their heads out of their asses

user55: don't get my hopes up

danielricciardo: i hope this works lol

landonorris: you don't think i'm sexy?

danielricciardo: it doesn't matter what i think

landonorris: i'm not sexy :(

danielricciardo: you're baiting me but yes, you are sexy.

user56: i'll fight anyone who made this man believe he's not beautiful

liked by yourusername

user57: I SAW THAT 📸

user58: someone just lock them in a cupboard at this point

oscarpiastri: noted.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 89,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: yeah, yeah. you can stop yelling at us now.

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user61: LET'S FUCKING GO

user62: it was worth all that yelling. i expect an invite to the wedding now.

user63: wedding? girly they only just realised their feelings after a DECADE

maxverstappen1: it was about fucking time

yourusername: okay miss ma'am. some people are EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE AND NOT VERY GOOD AT PROCESSING THEM

maxverstappen1: you must've been emotionally constipated because this was painful

yourusername: it was painful for me too

maxverstappen1: so painful that you dated CARLOS

yourusername: one date! ONE!

maxverstappen1: carlos said can you unblock him so he can be mean to me?

yourusername: fine.

carlossainz55: STOP MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A BAD PERSON. YES I AM NOT THE BEST AT RELATIONSHIPS BUT LEAVE ME BE

maxverstappen1: lol

yourusername: lol

user64: unblocking carlos to hit him with the lol max and y/n might be more iconic than lando and y/n

landonorris: not on our relationship announcement post 🤨

user65: OOP.

landonorris: i love you doofus

yourusername: i love you too muppet

landonorris: how much was the betting pool for your family?

yourusername: it got to over £300

landonorris: ours was £750

yourusername: are we dumb?

landonorris: no!

oscarpiastri: two dumbass girls saying 'yass' to each other

yourusername: LEAVE US BE

landonorris: oscar :(

user66: not their own families betting on when they'd get together 😭

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,430,778 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: first win, hopefully not my only one.

view all comments

user67: MY BABIES

user68: i feel like i've been on this journey with them

oscarpiastri: thank god you guys got your shit together, i was THIS close to jumping out the nearest window if i had to watch lando mope around like a kicked puppy when y/n had the lil thing with carlos

user69: so it wasn't some grand plan?

oscarpiastri: no he's just dumb enough to actually set up his first love with his best friend

landonorris: OSCAR!

oscarpiastri: am i wrong?

landonorris: no... but! i got there in the end

oscarpiastri: good thing you're faster on track

user70: the grid being just as done with them as us is killing me

maxfewtrell: finally this unnecessarily long and overly convoluted saga has come to and end, lets never do this again!

landonorris: i'm locked in for life bro no worries

yourusername: awwwwwwwwwwwwww i love you too bubs

maxfewtrell: stop being sappy under my comment

yourusername: you just complained we didn't sort out our shit fast enough and now we're too sappy?

landonorris: STICK TO A STORY BOZO

maxfewtrell: now you're even more ride or die... can we go back?

yourusername: nope!

landonorris: nope!

maxverstappen1: i for one am very happy for you both

yourusername: thank you max !!

landonorris: not so fast, he had the biggest bet on us in the paddock

yourusername: get that bag sis

landonorris: ???

yourusername: we can't fight it anymore, let them have their jokes, we actually have each other now :)

landonorris: yes we do :) xx

user71: golly gosh this is so fucking cute

fin.

note: i hope this is what you were looking for and that you all enjoyed!! i'm just waiting on my tester sticker sheets for my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on here and on instagram, if you wanna give it a follow x tHANK YOU FOR READING MY LOVES X

[rebelfell]

so wrong, it's right

a vaguely halloween-ish blurb where eddie has it bad for his best friend’s girlfriend…except you’re not his girlfriend anymore. 18+, MDNI

“Princess, I can’t,” Eddie whines pitifully. “We can’t. It’s wrong.”

This was so not how he saw the night going— sitting in the den at Tina’s dumb Halloween party, having to tell the girl of his dreams he can’t give her what she’s asking for, dressed up in a shitty pirate costume from the goodwill of all things.

At least he got to use his own bandana.

His hands squeeze tight on your arms as he tries to hold you at a safe distance. He doesn’t have it in him to push you away, enjoying too much the feel of your legs draped across his lap.

You’re Alice in Wonderland, the light blue of your dress nicely setting off the color of your skin. The skirt is painfully (for him) short and it’s made even shorter by the fluffy petticoat underneath it. White stockings hug your legs all the way up your sumptuous thighs, accented at the top with little black bows. It almost could double as one of those French maid outfits and Eddie has got to stop picturing you dusting things right now.

The sound of the party still going on in the main part of the house filters down the hallway to the room you brought him to in search of someplace quiet where you could share a joint. At the time he’d thought it was a little odd, especially since you didn’t usually smoke.

But since when did he ever stop to ask questions when you wanted him to do something? It wasn’t like he was going to start now.

And considering the way you’d sidled up as close to him as you could and pushed down his hand as he was taking out one of his pre-rolls, you clearly had a different agenda.

Did he even lock the door behind him? 

He’s not sure. His nose is swimming in the cherry liquor on your breath and the subtle florals of your perfume. The combination is making him dizzy and his jeans are uncomfortably tight. He’s been half-hard since he got here and all you did was wave at him from across the room.

“Isn’t that kinda what makes it fun, though?” You purr in his ear and your tongue traces the shell of it, making his whole body convulse.

He can’t do this. Can’t, can’t, can’t…

“No, no,” he says, a desperate pant. “I-I can’t hook up with my buddy’s girl, it’s not right.”

“Except I’m not his girl anymore…you know?”

Oh, Eddie knows. 

He’s known for weeks now, ever since news of the break-up ran through the school like food poisoning on meatloaf day. He’s known it every day he watched you walk down the hall without the tall, broad frame of Steve Harrington hanging all over you. He’s known it in his van on the way home when he pictures himself standing over you at your locker, thumb tugging down your plump bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you.

And he’s especially known it in his bed, late at night, when he’s imagining you’re there with him, hand firmly wrapped around his hard, throbbing—holy fucking shit.

With a shudder and a gasp, he’s brought hurtling back to the moment, suddenly feeling an actual hand on his cock. Except it’s not his own, it’s yours. Your fingers trace the shape of it through the seam in his jeans and he thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t get to bury himself inside you in the next five seconds.

A rumbling groan releases from deep in his chest and he tightens his grip on your shoulders, pulling you closer this time. You lick your lips and smile like the little minx you are, knowing you’ve won. As if there was ever any question you would.

Eddie swallows hard, drawing one last shaky breath as he tips his head to the side.

That fucking look in your eyes should be illegal.

continued at x

[wolfiesmoon]

I can't sleep

Ran x good girl!reader

Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all

(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)

edit: i made a part 2!!

"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.

You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.

"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.

"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.

"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.

"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.

But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.

"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.

Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?

This might just be the worst day of your life.

You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.

.

"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.

Oh my god, you're actually doing this.

He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.

"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.

You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.

Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.

Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!

You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!

He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.

Still, kissing him isn't half ba-

Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.

You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.

Why did you ever agree to do this?!

.

That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.

"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.

"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.

Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!

"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.

"Sorry!~"

Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.

It's Ran.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.

"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?

"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.

You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?

"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.

"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.

"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...

He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.

"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.

"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.

"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."

"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?

"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.

"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.

"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.

"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."

[tteokdoroki]

finking about werewolf bakugo who smells when u are ovulating and acts as if u were in heat idk i just love the idea of reader who doesn't understand monster rituals until its too late x hybrid bakugo

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, hybrids, heat cycles, knots, breeding kink, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy (in the breeding sense), werewolf!bakugou

i might die i might die omg

imagine just waking up with werewolf!bakugou all over you, sniffing at your neck, rocking his hardness between your thighs because he can smell how fertile you are and the day has only just begun. it’s like you’ve been begging to be bred even in your sleep, whining because it’s too hot or because you’re in pain. he doesn’t understand why you try to run for him despite how wet you’re getting, push him off and complain about how hot it is. you need him, don’t you understand?

“katsuki get off, you’re heavy.”

“shuddap, spread yer legs, ‘m gonna give you pups. make it all go away.”

it’s his instinct, to take care of his precious little human and make sure you’re not experiencing any discomfort — and the only way werewolf!bakugou knows how to do that is to stuff you to the brim with his knot and his seed. make sure it sticks and gets you pregnant.

you have to watch your back around him fr because if you don’t he’ll bend you over the counter with his face between your thighs because that pretty ripe pussy won’t stop leaking for him. like you go to wash something in the sink and werewolf!bakugou is on his knees behind you, tail thumping on the floor like “don’t you feel that? ya need t’be bred.” tearing through your clothes from behind no matter how much you squeal. “can’t have you walkin’ ’round the place like a bitch in heat. yer mine to fuck.”

cause werewolf!bakugou only doing his duty, making sure his cock his nice and snug within your plush, juicy walls — painted with layers of his cum while he knots you. you’re confused, crying dumb on his cock, but not complaining — you’ll have him explain it all to you later. for now you’ll enjoy the way his hips are tied to you by gallons of his precum and your slick, frothing up white against your thighs.

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[aphroditesmoon]

'cause I love this curse on our house

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: !THIS WAS A REQUEST THAT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED! the requester wanted a fic about clarisse and reader breaking up after an argument, and after months apart from eachother, reader appears at the ares cabin at 3am because she couldn't sleep without clarisse.

warnings: sparring violence, angst, hurt/comfort, arguing, fluff at the end.

a/n: im sooo sorry I accidentally deleted ur request😭🙏 but I hope this is to your liking, and thank you for your kind words🩷🎀

wc: 3.1k

"I never learned to lose a fight, I never learned to grow upright. this is who we are."

-back to you, flowerface

----

Clarisse wondered to herself, on whether or not you'd come running to her if she were to stake this spear through her chest.

Surely, you would? Sensible, independant and stubborn you.

She knew it'd take more than some flowers and half assed apology to get you to speak to her again, and with that knowledge in her head, she isn't sure what that would mean for your relationship.

Clarisse La Rue would rather die than be caught begging for your forgiveness. She would also consider maiming herself as a last resort for any problem she's ever had.

But it has been 3 months, and everyone knows about the 3 months rule.

3 months into dating, 3 months after a breakup. And yet so far, neither of you have tried to "happy new years" your way into eachother's life again.

It is a painful observation for the girl to make. And it's more painful for her to admit that she is at least 40% in the wrong.

That is the thing about the two of you, you become abrasive everytime you're upset, and Clarisse becomes confrontational everytime she is upset. On a normal day, those traits are opposite.

The truth was, Clarisse knew deep down how flawed she is as a person, and as a lover. She is a fighter at heart.

And though she'll admit, she's one of the best out there, being the daughter of a literal war god, but sometimes it feels like that's all she's good for. Does she want to love? Yes. Does she know how to? Not really.

She loves the early hours with you before everybody wakes up, trying to convince you to stay longer in her bed before you sneak out to avoid being noticed.

She loves the intimacy of your hands instinctively intertwining in a cabin party where the music is too loud and people are brushing against you in almost every corner as they try to dance or make their way out, and no one is paying attention to how her thumb caresses your knuckles.

She loves your lips, and how they feel around her neck as you bury your head in the crook of it from behind.

And at one point in the past, she loved how easy it was to be with you. Not the deep connection or understanding, but the way you wouldn't hold it against her if she were to pretend she didn't hear say hi as you walked past her. And how you didn't mind sneaking into her bed after midnight and the darkness becomes the only witness of your loving glances and tight embraces.

But Clarisse was quick to realize later on. that she might want more than that with you. It all felt impossible. Her reputation, her need to always look the toughest and never having a visible weakspot that might be used against her in the future.

And exposing you as her Achilles' heel, would mean that everything she's worked so hard for would break down into pieces the moment the news is out.

Her father already views her as a mistake. Something that could never be his. And for that she's had to work twice as hard as any of her siblings, and still be the least worthy in his eyes.

Were you worth risking all of that? She doesn't know. She doesn't think she ever will, now that it's all over.

And what about you?

What part did you play in cutting down the fragile line of rope the two of you had stood on?

Well, you were strong, opiniated, and rational. So fucking rational that it pissed her off. While she was losing her mind watching you laughing and giggling in the corner by a tree with some random dude that looked like he was birthed by a rat hybrid during the end of year party being held in camp. You were completely fine with not being with her.

Of course she knew that whatever going on between you two was a secret, but why were you so fine with it? Are you not affected by her the way she is with you?

"I'm playing the game by your rules, this is what you wanted." You had snapped at her after she dragged you away from your boring date into a secluded part into the forest. "This isn't a game." She had blurted out in frustration.

"Isn't it? Whenever you want me, I'm there. Whenever you don't, it's like I've never existed." And you were right. This was what she wanted. Despite herself and her feelings, this was how she treated you.

"We know we're together, why does anyone else needs to know that?" Clarisse asked instead of telling you what she really wanted to.

"Are you ashamed of me, Clarisse?" She could not answer your question. I'm ashamed of myself. She thought.

Can't you see? You are the only person who's been patient enough to wait for me, to stay with me. But then I'm looking for you in every crowd just to see that you don't even notice my absence.

Oh fuck it, in the end of the day, it would've never worked. Her thoughts countered againts one another.

Clarisse La Rue was born angry, all she ever knew to be, is angry. Her shortcomings is her inability to be gentle with those she loves the most, her need to break and rip every sensitive soul that has ever pitied her enough to try and pull out that ancient rage holed up in her chest.

"You were nothing without me. I found you, I gave you something to care about, something to anchor yourself to. Cause gods, you act like you don't give a shit, but you care so much that you make yourself believe that you don't care about being tossed aside, like it doesn't hurt you when I don't look twice on your way in front of other people."

The way she looked at you as she spat each and every word onto your face, was worse than the things she had actually said.

You scoffed at her, even with tears in your eyes, you glared at her and laughed out bitterly, refusing to sob or break under her stare.

"You know what your problem is, Clarisse?" You asked, even with the cracks in your voice, her spine shivered. "Indulge me." She forced out.

"You are so miserable, that you can't stand to see anyone else that isn't. You just need me to be pissed and devestated so you could feel better about yourself. Cause Gods forbid if you don't view your self worth on how less everyone else is." Clarisse says nothing, she knew you weren't finished.

"But I don't need to fuck over anyone else's life to know that I'm good. I'm perfectly fucking fine. I was fine before you, and I'll- I'll be fine after you." And there it was. That was where it all came crashing down.

Clarisse bad one second to say fuck all, to cut down all the bullshit. To admit that for once in her life, she was tired of fighting, and she had no clue what she's doing.

But as she opened her mouth to say it all, something in the shadow of her ego had restrained her tongue from speaking at all.

And so you watched her close her lips tight, and grieved then apology she never gave, the girl she couldn’t be for you. And then you left.

Everyone steered clear from Clarisse's way, unsure of what was getting on her nerves, and not caring enough to want to know.

And that night became the last time the two of you have ever spoke to eachother.

"Clarisse." Her brother's voice snaps her out of her thoughts. He was in position with his spear.

"Aim for my chest, remember to move your feet like taught you." She instruced him, fixing her own stance. "Go."

The boy moves quickly, and just like she envisioned in her head for ten thousand times in the just a few minutes ago, her feet drags.and her hand slows down for a second- because all it took is a second for the spear to slash her chest, and slams her down on her back.

---

Growing up, you had always earned the title of the "easy" one. Compared to your step-siblings, you had caused the least problem, required the least attention, asked the least questions.

You always knew what to do. You took care of your siblings when your parent couldn't, you knew how to take care of them the way your parent would. You knew when to get things done before you were told to, you knew where the pills were whenever you weren't feeling where. And you knew which secrets were better kept to yourself.

That one doesn't need watching over, they'd say about you. Even as you're being sent over to camp quick enough before the monsters acended, you were still not worth being worried over.

Someone who takes care of others so well, sure knows how to take care of themselves, right? Right.

Of course you're self sufficient, of course even know, you know where to find medication before your sickness gets worse. Or course even now, you know just the right things to tell people so you'd be left alone.

That was the bright side of raising yourself and growing up in an environment that made you feel so alone, you get used to the silence as the company gets smaller and smaller.

But no one ever said that loneliness felt good, even as a person who's found comfort in it. Because the truth of it, is that it's the sinking feeling in your stomach that you get addicted to. It is the repetitive cycle of breaking down that feels like home, because that's the only constant thing that have prevailed in your life.

What Clarisse had given you, with her presence, her rare tenderness and welcoming touches, was something new that had altered your entire defense system. Hope. She had given you hope.

And as you stood in the house that fell all over you, surviving the damage just like you always do. You realised just how stupid you were to even think that this time it would be different.

The news of Clarisse's injury spread like wildfire. And after repressing your emotions for the longest time, you felt your chest tightening from a familiar feeling.

Clarisse have taken blows before, but never this bad, never this serious. You know that she'd heal in time, but it doesn't stop you from worrying.

How could she be so stupid and careless? Being slammed down by a younger sibling nonetheless. Even if she has no regard for her physical safety, she must have one for her pride.

She's never so easily distracted or foolish, this injury and including her little spear incident has been looked upon by others as a moment of weakness for her. They are starting to wonder if Clarisse was ever that competent in the first place, or if she has just been making it look like she is.

You tossed and turned on your bed. The sheets don't feel right against your skin. It must be the heat, you tell yourself. It must be the heat because it cannot be the deprivation of Clarisse's cold skin from yours.

Demigods do not medicate the same way mortals do, and yet without anyone knowing, you've been swallowing down melatonin almost every night to be able to fall asleep.

It's not easy to get, the last hidden stock of it from the medical room finished 3 nights ago. And if no one had noticed your sleeping problems before, they do now because of your visible under eye bags.

Your hands have been shaking, a side effect of mortal drugs. It has also been making you more jumpy, anxious.

The worst of it all is how all those symptoms only worsens your sleeping problems now. As if seasonal depression itself isn't bad enough, now you're capable of staying up all night revisiting old haunting memories.

It's easy to distract yourself in the day with all the training and learning to do.

But no one survives the cruel coldness that the night presents itself with. When your only friend is the empty ceiling staring back down at you, and the only kind of blanket you want are the ones that feels like her arms.

It was ironic, you still wanted her the way a kicked dog would still roll over if asked to.

You had left her with your head held up high. But only the gods know how low to the ground you'd kneel down to for her to look at you again the way she used to.

If she had wanted you more lenient, then she could've just asked. If she had needed you to need her more then you would've begged for her if she would've just told you.

Pushing aside the soft material of your blanket off of you, your feet barely makes a sound as you tiptoed to the door to exit your cabin.

You told yourself you don't really know where you're going. But you moved in the same way you had 3 months ago, the road is memorized, the pace is as similar, and the yearning is twice as strong.

The moom followed you from above, lightimg the way as you walked on the ground from the pavements to patches of grass.

When you found yourself in front of the Ares cabin, you truly asked yourself if you have even an ounce of shame or sense left in your head. The answer was none, all that lived inside of you was dread, ever growing. The last straw before the breaking.

The last chance that looks a little too late to be taking for.

And yet as you pull open the door ever so slightly the way you used to, you feel it being held static before a creaking noise could be made. And like memories you've seen flashing in your mind multiple times before, your eyes meet Clarisse's.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing up?"

You spoke at the same time as her. Both of you looked as surprised as the other.

As you took in eachother's appearance, Clarisse looks at you expectedly, considering that you are the one who isn't at your cabin. "I...wanted to see you."

Her expression changes slightly, as if she wasn't expecting that answer.

"Weird hour to visit." She noted. "Weird hour to be up by the door after you're slashed on the chest by a spear."

The two of you stared at eachother in silence before you notice Clarisse's chest heaving as she breathed out a low sigh. "Do you want to come in?" She whispered out to you. You nod your head once and waited for her to move aside so you could be let in.

Naturally, your hand found hers. She clasped her fingers over yours without a question as the two of you walked towards her bed.

Sitting dowm side by side, you eye the outline of her face closely in the dark, some sort of relief is released in your chest. "How bad is the damage?" You asked slowly. You almost reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, but caught yourself.

"Could've been worse." Was her response.

"Does it hurt right now?" You inquired again. You hear her inhale sharply and wondered if breathing was hard for her. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure what else to tell her. To know that she was in pain had hurt you as well, but a larger part of you did not really care for her injury. Only now do you realise how much being away from her have affected you.

Now, in much closer proximity, your breathing fans her skin, the back of her hand touching yours, and her eyes unmoving from yours, do you realise just how much you needed Clarisse La Rue.

"It doesn't hurt as much as having to watch you leave." She spoke those words in a hushed whisper, meant only for your ears. If only dhe has been a little louder. You would've been able to hear the halt in the back of her throat. "No?" You whispered back to her. "No."

"I wouldn't have left, if you would've just asked me to stay."

"I know. I know you would." She mutters it affectionately, the cold shoulder already gone. "I know you would...you've always been good to me."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and held your tears in. "Then why didn't you?"

Clarisse shrugged. "I'm never good to you."

You frowned at her reply, feeling a jolt of anger striking through you. "But you could be. Why won't you be good to me, Clarisse?" Water gathered in your eyes, your primise yo refrain from crying broken.

"I would give you anything. I would give you my life. Could you just be good to me, Clarisse?" You told yourself that you wouldn't ask this question again, no matter how much of a dog you feel like, you won't force her to give you a bone.

And so with a tear running down your cheek, you looked up at her pleadingly and thought, please, see me, want me, love me. Need me the way I need you.

Her forehead softly rests againts yours, and you hear her then, mumbling."I could be good. I could be good to you."

Her thumb finds the wet streak on your face and wipes it off. "I want to be good to you."

"Then do that. It's that easy." She shakes her head lightly, making your frown deepens. "I've had to be this person that everyone expects me to be, because of my father, and my siblings. Sometimes giving in, feels like it could be death itself. Sweet dreams before you wake up in hell. That's what it feels like trying to be the person you want me to be. Punishment worthy."

"But it isn't death, Clarisse. Not just because someone else thinks it should be.

- Not just because your father thinks so."

"I know." She answers with a more reassuring tone.

"I haven't been able to sleep without you." You tell her out of obligation. "I can tell." She joked, the both of you chuckled lightly.

Clarisse then crawled over her bed to lie down and tugged you by your sleeve to find your place in her embrace again.

Laying your head above the area her chest was struck on, her beating heart becomes your lullaby. You fell asleep soon after, with your legs tangled together under the covers. Whatever was to happen tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Because the worst was over.