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#you better stay awhile.
flowerxguts · 10 months
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What Are We Gonna Do Now? - Indigo De Souza
I know you're worn, you're exhausted / This is love / This is lost on you / I'm holding my night in your hands
———————**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ OC FIC ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*———————
Four days. It had been four days since Damien had so much as shown his face.
Dion had walked by the room at least two dozen times by now, only able to catch a glimpse of a lumped blanket or his friends mysteriously bruised back.
His life went on as usual, only now with two detours.
Everyday he made breakfast, placing a plate on the floor beside the pile of blankets without any reprimands, only a pitying look that would go unseen. He went to work, helped his sister with homework, went through all the general motions of the day. Then, after dinner he’d re-enter the now pitch black room, a plate of food in hand, and place it next to the lump that had sometimes moved, sometimes hadn’t.
He didn’t say much, finding no purpose in his words falling onto deaf ears, unlike his little sister, who he knew would talk Damien’s ear off after school before Dion came home despite their friends lack of response. He’d pat the lump of blankets that held his friend occasionally, mumbling a good morning or good night.
He always knew Damien moved at some point, as the two dishes left in his room would miraculously reappear in the cabinets every morning, cleaned. Perhaps that was his way of saying thank you without having to face anyone.
Still, he was catatonic most of the day, avoiding the world.
But today when Dion passed his friends opened door, there he was. Damien in the flesh. He laid sprawled out on his mattress, a thin sheet bundled across his shoulders being the only blanket obscuring any sort of view.
He was staring up at the ceiling, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers that fell over the side of the mattress.
Dion walked up to the door leaning on the old, rotting frame. He crosses his arms, eyes trained on his friends ghostly figure.
Damien showed no signs of acknowledging him, merely bringing the cigarette to his lips. Either he hadn’t seen Dion, or he was ignoring the intrusion, hoping it would simply disappear if he ignored it for long enough.
Dion purses his lips, exhausted with the avoidance game Damien seems to be playing with everyone since Morgan made her departure.
“You just gonna lay there depressed?”
Silence drones on as Damien lets out a deep breath, smoke wafting into the air. The arm that held the cigarette to his lips flopped down again, bouncing slightly as it hit the mattress.
“Guess so.”
Dion lets out a heavy sigh as his makes his way to the edge of the mattress, plopping himself down beside his friends left side.
“You need to get up sometime, man.”
Damien doesn’t move an inch. He continues staring up at the ceiling with a glassy, lost look in his eyes.
Silence falls once more, weighing down the room. Dion lightly taps his fist on Damien’s core, unsure of what to do with him.
He’s come to accept that there’s nothing he can say, nothing he can do. Morgan is gone. His friend just has to feel this and endure.
Morgan made her choice. To leave.
And Dion made his choice. To stay.
He sighs again, exasperated, accepting that Damien would not get up if he simply asked him. Still, he didn’t want to let him rot in the room a day longer, so he met him halfway.
Dion doesn’t leave, moving to lay on his friend's outstretched arm without another word.
Damien instinctively slings his arm over Dion’s shoulders. It’s progress.
The two boys mirror each other, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Damien reaches the cigarette out to Dion, who accepts it, taking a drag.
Words are failing both of them in this moment. There’s nothing to be said, really. What can either of them say? That they’re sorry? But for what? For who?
“How are you holding up?”
The question is stupid in and of itself, but Dion couldn’t come up with anything better. Four days, and his friend has done nothing but lay on this mattress, sleeping, crying, watching the snow fall outside, praying.
“I don’t know, Dee. I just…” Damien waves the hand that had been resting on Dion’s shoulder helplessly, taking the cigarette back with his free hand “I feel empty.”
Damien bends his knees, aligning them to Dion’s. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his nose, watching it dance away into the freezing air of January, before lulling his head towards the boy beside him.
There is an undefined emotion in his eyes, something akin to acceptance, but resting on the fine line between resentment, jealousy.
“Did you know she was gonna leave me?”
His friend's voice, though quiet, was relatively steady. He was sure Damien already knew the answer, but asked anyway, needing confirmation.
The question is unavoidable, so Dion shakes his head, looking down for only a split second before meeting rusted-brown eyes.
“Yeah. I did. I gave her hell for it, but…”
There’s an unnatural pause causing the air between the two to shift. The room is too cold, too small. It’s suffocating. Dion looks back up to the ceiling, trying to escape the weight of the air, a serious look dawning his features.
“You need to get it together, man.”
It’s the truth. Everything he is saying. He fought with Morgan relentlessly the night she told him, barely even able to look at her for the next few days leading up to her departure. Neither of them had been kind in the argument.
Dion had met her on her way to the tracks, uneasy to let her leave on bad terms. He had experienced it once, with Eleanor, and wasn’t eager to experience months of sleepless, guilt-filled nights again.
‘You need to know that I’m not mad at you.’
They made their peace. In the end, both understood the other as much as they could.
In many respects Morgan and Dion understand each other better than everyone, having both grown up with an addict for a parent.
When they found their approach to Damien contrasted, it was frustrating beyond reason.
They fought, yelled, threw snide remarks they knew should’ve been beneath them. Storming out on one another before agreeing because both were stubborn, having already made up their minds.
But standing with her, his arm slung around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest, waiting for the train that would take her away for possible years, it was hard to say if one of them was right and the other was wrong. In the snow, watching each others breaths manifest in the cold, they realized they were in some grey area that rested in between, together.
‘I’m sorry. I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
All that matters now is that they had at least agreed on one thing: Damien had to get sober.
“Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to be saying.” Damien states, his tone light, but devoid of humor.
“Oh everyone?“ Dion retorts sarcastically, somewhat rolling his eyes. “What? Me and Morgan?”
He questions whether or not it was the right call to say her name for a second, knowing she wasn’t in the picture anymore as everyone, but in the end, she’s the only thing on Damien’s mind right now. Everything about her, from the moment Damien met her, stuck on a loop.
Her name had rolled off his tongue, familiar, because Morgan is not a stranger. Not yet. Not ever.
“Morgan, you… Eleanor.”
Damien’s reply comes easily, Morgan’s name still said with unarmored love. Relief is instantaneous.
Dion makes a clicking noise “That’s not everyone. What about Tiger Lily?”
Damien laughs for a second, tipping his knees to knock into Dion’s “I don’t make leisurely visits.”
They both smile, but the action swirls in sadness. Damien’s legs fall limp once more against the mattress. They continue to pass the cigarette back and forth wordlessly.
It’s awhile before either speaks again. Damien being too preoccupied to pay much notice to the silence. His breathing is slow and his eyes are still staring holes into the ceiling, even after four days of doing nothing else.
Dion observes him closely, taking in his very being. He knows there are bound to be a million and two thoughts in his friends head. This is the longest he’s been sober in three months, and thinking like this was what he was running from, wasn’t it?
Damien turns to him, Dion’s staring finally catching his attention.
“Tell me what’s going to happen, Dee.”
His voice is so soft, barely more than a whisper, but level. Dion opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when no words come out. The look in his friends eyes is leaving him speechless. Because Damien does not look afraid, no, he looks unto him with nothing but genuine concern.
It reminds him of the way Morgan had looked at him, the trains rumble in the near distance. Trembling hands dusting the stray snow off his jacket as a final action of love, ‘I won’t blame you, if you can’t handle it. Leave if you need to. But, as long as you stay, take care of him for me?’
It’s sickening.
He should be afraid for himself, but he’s not. He’s only afraid for his friend because he knows. And Dion gets déjà vu. He knows what Damien is truly saying. He’s asking if he can handle this too. He’s begging him ‘tell me to leave’, because sobriety has given him perspective.
He knows about Dion’s mother, about Morgans father. And if Morgan had left him, why should Dion stay?
There’s a pit in the older boys stomach. He thought he had come to understand why Morgan left, or at the very least accept it, but for a moment, he’s mad again.
‘How can you just up and leave him like this?’
“It’s okay if-“
Dion speaks suddenly, sick of being told to leave. He’s overcome with the urge to fix what his friend is saying, give him his perspective, make him forget Morgan’s.
The picture of Morgan leaving, smiling at him, tears glimmering in the corner of her eyes, is forgotten. Their argument is once again in the forefront of his mind again.
“Damien, you know you can stay here. I love you like a brother. Fuck, when Morgan first told me I was pissed. I told her that she didn’t really love you if she was leaving.”
‘Stop lying to make yourself feel better! You don’t fucking love him! And clearly, you never did! You’re just gonna turn your damn back and run, again, because you still don’t know what the fuck love is. How about some sense of fucking loyalty?’
Dion’s breathing has become labored, every hurtful word said in the heat of the argument drowning out reason. He thinks for a careful moment this time, about his next words, about Morgan.
‘I know the first time he hits me I will forgive him because I love him more than I love myself.’
He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. All the anger that had resurfaced dissipating within seconds. The statement, and I’m right, dissolves on his tongue.
The way Morgan had declared those words, in raw honestly, so afraid, ring in his head like an alarm. There was a wild look in her eyes, like a match had been lit to her life yet again.
He knows about everything Morgan went through, before. How she had ended up on his door step that cool August night. And she knows everything about him. They hadn’t forgotten that, hell, they had used it against each other.
But now, Morgan’s not in front of him. She’s not even in the same state lines by now. The room is quiet. He images her in his mind, younger, the same look in her eyes.
When he began speaking he wanted to say that Morgan is wrong, assure his friend that her actions shouldn’t reflect on him. That he’s lovable. He’s not beyond saving. Forget her.
But Damien can’t forget her.
Dion can’t either.
He loves her, more than he’ll ever care to admit. And somewhere in his heart, in late night conversations on the couch after the other found them awake, he knows she had to leave.
He wishes he could leave too.
He’s been unfair, because despite leaving Morgan does love Damien. She knows he’s not beyond saving. He’s heard her say it, scream it, a look of pure desperation in her eyes.
A feeling inside himself settles. The picture of Morgan solidifies in his mind. Her, holding back Damien’s hair as he pukes, shoving her fingers down his throat, begging. Her, dragging Damien through the house in the dead of night, eye’s exhausted.
‘I need to stop pretending one day he’ll just wake up and see I’m worth changing for. He needs to feel this.’
She was always there. To a fault, she was there.
She had done her time, paid her dues.
Dion finds closure in the phantom feeling of Morgan’s chapped lips pressed against his cheek. The warmth of a whispered ‘thank you’ ghosting the skin once kissed goodbye and you’re on your own all at once.
Maybe, he thinks, maybe giving her actions more explanation will give Damien closure too. Maybe he will get up.
“But Damien she does. She’s trying to give you the push you need to turn your life around.”
He lets the words sink in. He means it.
“We both love you... we don’t want you stuck like this.”
Dion turns his body inward and Damien does the same, arm still around his shoulders.
“…And I think the best way to help you is for her to go and for me to stay.”
Something in his friends eyes shift. He looks helpless, like his world has just collapsed in on itself yet again.
‘He can’t get better with me here. Dragging his ass home every night because I can’t stand sleeping in bed alone without him.’
“You know… Morgan could never stop herself from helping you. I’d tell her to leave you be, let you come to your senses, but she can’t stand seeing you like that, Dam. She wasn’t trying to enable you, but she was.”
Dion’s jaw clenches and unclenches. He closes his eyes, taking in his own words. It’s hard to accept that somehow Morgan leaving is something crucial to Damien’s recovery. Because for forever, all they’ve ever needed was each other.
Still, he knows Morgan is right. So he meets Damien’s eyes, trying his best to not give into the voice in his head begging him to stop talking. To not make this worse, because what if knowing all this doesn’t end in closure? just hurts him more? Makes him relapse?
“If you’re gonna get better she can’t be here.” Dion declares, voice low, the deliberate eye contact between the two bordering the line of uncomfortable.
Damien’s eyebrows furrow and he looks away almost instantly, not allowing Dion to decipher what he is thinking. Though, his friend does not miss the fresh tears that form in his eyes. He takes a final inhale of smoke, facing entirely away from Dion as he stubs out the cigarette.
He rubs a hand over his eyes, turning back over, mumbling words incoherently in a language he knew Dion couldn’t understand. Silent tears painted his eyes with a misty hue, making him look worn down well behind his years. His tears sparkled in the afternoon sun that spilt through the open window, cascading over the unmade mattress haphazardly dumped in the middle of the messy room.
Dion thinks, for a moment, that maybe this is normal to an extent. Two teenage boys, one a wreck, the other not too far off, laying in one of their messy bedrooms. A boy comforting his best friend after a break up with a girl he was never officially with. It’s foreign. In a way, comforting, but he remembers the circumstances, and suddenly the reality of it all seems to come crashing in once again. Morgan did not leave because she’s just a girl, not because of something slightly insensitive Damien said, but because their friend was an addict. She was afraid of him, and who he was becoming.
Truth be told, he was too.
So no. Dion does not get the leisure of being a teenage boy, simply comforting his friend. He had chosen to stay, and in that, had chosen to take responsibility for this, even if it terrified him.
He feels like he’s drowning in Damien’s world, in this room, in his bed. Morgan had told him that she was afraid that in staying, in continuing to love him, she’d loose herself entirely. She said she had met herself, for a brief moment, and she wanted to see that girl again.
Dion squeezes his eyes shut, colors swirling behind the lids.
He is five again. A year before his world would be turned on its side and he would suddenly become a father, a mother, a brother, and a sister the second a pink bundle is dropped into his arms on an old rotting couch with needles stuffed between its cushions. He is laying in bed with his mother, who’s out of it almost entirely. He’s squeezing his eyes shut and finding patterns of stars in the colors and wonders if his mom, who has had her eyes closed for hours now, can see the same patterns. He wonders if so, why she’s entranced by them. Because she has not gotten up in a day, even though he has begged, screamed, and cried. She did not even get out of bed when it was time for Dion to go to school this morning. So he didn’t go, simply kept laying by her side, patiently waiting for her to greet him a late good night and a good morning simultaneously. He didn’t want his mom to wake up worried, wondering where he was.
He knew the feeling, and it wasn’t pleasant.
He mindlessly reaches a hand out to Damien, placing it on the side of his neck, an action familiar, yet once believed to be long forgotten. He feels the strong thrum of his best friends heartbeat. He holds it in his palm, matching his breathing to the pulse. This is the strongest he’s felt his heartbeat has been in months.
When he was five he reached out all the same to his mother, small hands wandering, pressing, waiting to feel a heartbeat. For some kind of sign that he was not alone right now. That he was not beside his mothers corpse. He would panic when he couldn’t find one, sitting up on his knees, pressing into his mothers neck wildly with both hands, eyes blurred by tears, until relief would finally come in the form of a heartbeat. A heartbeat so low it could go undetected by doctors, but not from a son so desperate.
Dion’s thumb rests on the base of Damien’s ear and his fingers tethering firmly into the root of long brunette strands. He tries to ground himself, but the shapes and colors form into the figure of his mother and he’s five. He is just barely three feet tall and last year he lost his first tooth at his grandparents house in the summer. Then he is eight, his two year old sister in his arms as he tries to beat down the bathroom door. He’s terrified, he begs, he yells, and then he is in the bathroom. He calls an ambulance. He stays with his grandparents until he is nine and his mother is deemed fit again. When his mother hugs him he tells him that his little sister lost her first tooth the same way he had, and then asks, quieter now, why she left him again. She says nothing. But there is a steady heartbeat.
The colors and shapes transform rapidly into a million different images of his mother. Her smile, her shaking hands, his eyes rolled back to her skull.
She is what passes as “sober” for DCFS intermittently for the next six years. Though, she is never there, not truly. She is always preoccupied with a substance or some new boyfriend she swears she loves.
Then Dion is barely fifteen, his eight year old sisters hand in his. His back faces a house, not a home. His little sisters eyes are trained back on the house, but Dion’s eyes are on her.
He kept count of how many times his mother had promised to stay clean. Two hundred seventy four broken promises. He takes two hundred seventy four steps away from the house. And then he looks back. He takes one more.
He’s accepted that his mother is beyond saving and that ever glimmer of hope he had felt when he was younger was for naught.
Once when he was twelve, visiting his dad, he had pressed the phone so hard into his ear it had left a mark. He told his dad that mom was sober again, but he was scared. His dad lifted his hand to the glass, the act gentle, loving. Dion copied the action. He looked into his fathers eyes and trusted him.
His dad had smiled, the scatted gash on his check scrunching up to his eye.
‘Some people are just not strong enough, baby. Addicts don’t always get better.’
And two days later, when he found his mom leaned over the kitchen table when he came home from school, he wasn’t disappointed.
The surge of memories is nauseating, and all he can hear is his fathers voice in his head. Addicts don’t always get better. Dion swallows thickly. It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust after he opens them. The light in the seemed blinding for a moment.
There’s a thrum steady under his fingers, a heartbeat, that pulls him to his senses. When his eyes focus on Damien something in him breaks. His friends mouth is pressed against his arm and his eyes are half obscured by the pillow beneath them. His shoulders shake slightly, but every noise he’s making is suppressed.
He wonders why he didn’t leave. Why Morgan ran before he did. They had both grown up in the homes of addicts, but surely this was closer to Dion’s territory than her own. Morgan had said it herself, asked the question Dion still couldn’t answer. He should hate Damien for this, for bringing him back to a reality he had done everything to escape from. But he doesn’t. Looking at Damien now, he tries to understand his fathers words. He hears them, clear as day, but for some reason, he no longer believes they’re true.
When Damien’s eyes meet his, he understands.
Damien will get better.
Because he can feel his heartbeat now. He will get better because the look in his eyes is no longer far away, it is present, and he is in pain, but he is withstanding.
He is feeling everything Dion’s mother never had. He knows remorse and he knows guilt.
He is not a lost cause.
Dion readjusts his hand, petting down his friends hair, before the words spill out without permission.
“And that doesn’t mean I won’t be here for you, I’ll listen to you, help you find a job, fuck, whatever you need.” He means it. To a fault, he means it. “But I’m not going to drag your ass two blocks to bed if I find you wasted in an alley at three in the morning.” He concludes, tone stern, but not mean.
He hears Morgan in his subconscious, ‘I’m not going to become my mother. And I hope you don’t become your mothers son again.’
The room is silent for a long time. Damien continues staring at Dion, though it seems he is lost in his head, more than he is truly looking at Dion.
When Damien finally speaks, his voice is small, rough, “…I’m sorry. I never realized it was getting this bad.”
“I know, Damien.” Dion wraps his arm around him, encasing him in a hug. “I know.”
His friend lets out a few shakey sobs, holding onto him like a lifeline. Dion decides to lay with him for as long as he can, sneaking looks at his watch every so often. His shift starts at three, but he has to include the forty minute walk to the the hotel.
He didn’t mind it. Laying here like this. His friend was warm, not the boiling hot he had come accustomed to when grabbing his face, begging him to tell him how much he had taken, but a cozy warm he remembered from three winters ago when he and Damien would fall asleep in his bed after they’d stayed up talking all night about nothing. They’d wake up inches apart, just like they had fallen asleep, soaking in each other warmth, feigning off the cold under a shared comforter stolen from a dumpster behind a old home decor store that was going out of business a few years back. In a few minutes they’d both get up and curse the cold, play wrestling when Damien decides it’s a great idea to put his freezing hands on the back of his best friends neck. They’ll walk Eleanor to the middle school, together, then Damien will walk him to work before disappearing until the night, where he’d come home. Dion closed his eyes, pretending for a moment that he was three years younger, that nothing had changed.
He wanted to sink into the hug, let it surround him entirely. If he could only drown out the present for a moment and be young again, more wide-eyed and optimistic, leaving the unknown future a mystery for an older version of himself to face.
As he squeezed he felt for the first time how small Damien’s frame had become. He swallows thickly, feeling the sudden urge to sob along with his best friend.
He used to be lean, all muscle from his time working in demolition. He used to exercise before he started using. He’d make stupid bets with Eleanor over dinner about how many push-ups he could do and would go on these hour long runs in the early mornings of autumn. Dion used to shake his head when he’d reappear to mooch some breakfast off him, asking him ‘how the hell was that any fun?’ as the brunette strode in, stealing a bite off his plate, wrapping around the table to greet Eleanor. He misses the stupid smile Damien would stop and give him. There was nothing he loved more than running, the cold air that filled his lungs gave him a rush nothing else could at the time. At some indistinguishable point he had replaced his runners high for the high that came from the injection of a needle. His body was always heavy after he started using, he was a dead weight, in an out of consciousness half the time, sometimes he got nauseous just standing up. He only ate when he was force fed.
All this resulted in Dion being able to feel his best friends ribs digging into his chest as he heaved in and out, exhausted from such little action.
Damien was shaking and his skin was flushed, but not in a recently familiar way, in a way Dion remembered from years ago when Damien was in his doorframe, speaking in a frenzy, half the words he spoke in Spanish and the other half in slurred English.
He squeezed his friend tighter, remembering the mess of that night. A grateful feeling washed over him. Damien was here with him. He wasn’t dead and he wasn’t gone, he was simply lost for awhile, but he’s wandering his way back. He digs his nose into his friends neck, his next sentence coming out more muffled than intended.
“You want something to do today?” Dion asks rather slowly, “Something small to get you out of the house?”
“Yeah. That’d probably be good.” He can feel Damien nod against his shoulder, pulling back to meet his eyes.
Dion smiles, taking in his friends face. For once, his eyes are clear. He’s present, He’s here. The boy reaches a hand up to his companions cheek, patting it lightly.
There’s something in the air between them. Something that makes both the corner of their eyes soften. Something akin to hope.
“Go pick up Eleanor from school? It’s been awhile and you can surprise her.”
He pushes himself up, the cold air assaulting him while doing so. Damien follows in suit.
“What time is it?”
“Like twooooooo..” Dion checks his watch as if he hadn’t sneakily checked it four times within the last half hour, “twenty. She gets out at forty five”
“Jesus.” Damien has scooted over to the front edge of the bed, feet touching the freezing concrete ground. He’s hunched over, face is buried in his hands.
Dion snorts, smirking.
He gets up with a groan, stretching. He pats Damien’s knee twice whilst padding his way over to the door. But just before he can leave room, Damien’s voice stops him.
“Dion… thank you.”
The words are so honest, raw. They stop the boy in his tracks. He falters, back still facing Damien. Dion’s eyebrows knit together and the feeling of horror causes a sinking feeling in his gut. He is responsible. Everything sinks in.
Regardless of the sudden terror, he acts quickly, turning back to his friend with a shit-eating grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, we don’t have two hours for you to waste time thanking me for everything I’ve ever done for your ass.” He teases, rolling his eyes and waving it off. He doesn’t think he can really accept a thank you right now. A thank you is a liability. Once Damien is a year sober he can accept it.
As he leaves the room, shutting the door, attempting to ride the high that Damien is moving, and bury his fears, he hears Damien’s muffled voice. It’s lined with amusement but also a tinge of annoyance.
“Pinche pendejo.”
That one he knew.
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puppyeared · 2 years
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Why did we as a society feel the need to discontinue ever after high
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vanillabat99 · 7 months
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Life Update!
Putting this all in one post to keep things tidy :3
I've been talking with my mom about disability stuff more lately!! She wants to figure out how to get me on AISH and she supports me pursuing art as a career :3 I've also asked if her and dad would be willing to look into finding some kind of "Understanding Disability Seminar" and she was all for it!! Mom has no issue with me living at home for as long as I need, and she's understanding of the possibility that I might not be able to finish school or find a "normal" job. It is nice :3
I'm still very lonely here, as everyone I knew has gone off to university and the 2 people I talked to have stopped responding for quite some time. My weekly choir practice is a nice reason to get out of the house and see people, however it has become very apparent that I am not like other people my age, and I find it very hard to socialize with them ._. They are all very nice and quite friendly!! I simply don't know how to reciprocate >_<
Haven't heard back about my heart monitor results. The soonest I am able to see my doctor is November :( It is getting difficult to shower weekly and I've been getting nerve pain in my arms, very unpleasant. My household is going to work and school, which means I am once again Perpetually Sick. Other than all of that, things have been rather mundane! My pain hasn't been too bad, I've been sleeping lots, and I'm fairly consistent in taking my medications!!
Now that school has started, I no longer have to compete for the computer with my sister since she is away for most of the day. I have been spending most days by myself at home, which has been nice. I am not completely alone as some of my family works from home sometimes, so there's only 1 or 2 days in a week where I am left unattended (not ideal on bad days but otherwise fine). I enjoy having a quiet house and time to myself :3
My wife is (hopefully!!) visiting for New Years!! I am very very excited and have lots to do :3 It will be very cold and snowy, which means we won't have to go anywhere and we can stay in bed all day watching movies!! I am so so so so soooo thrilled for my beautiful wife to come and stay with me :3
My cat is demanding attention, so I will end the post here!! As a parting thought: I've been thinking about setting up a Paypal or Kofi for this blog, would that be something worthwhile? I don't have plans to paywall anything, but I might be willing to offer (small!) rewards if there is interest! No plans for anything anytime soon, just something to think about :3
Thanks for reading, wishing y'all the best 💕💕💕
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swede · 7 months
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honestly though christine is a like a little bird w its wings clipped. let me explain. she's all but an orphan, the professor passed on years ago leaving madame valerius and christine by themselves, surviving off what was left of madame's family's wealth ( as they received no inheritance from the professor due to being women, it went to the next male heir ) and christine's paychecks from the opera house. she's damned if she stays, she doesn't fit in here, madame will soon surely die, she'll be all alone again very quickly. if she leaves she will truly, utterly, not have anyone. she will be entirely on her own with no prospects, no dowry, and very little knowledge about the world. she has no choice but to remain in the cage she's been placed in, in what little she has and the few people she knows.
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captain-space-kin · 2 years
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Boom! A Child!
(Special thanks to @froghatt for helping me come up with all these headcanons like forever ago lol)
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nevthereader · 7 days
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books that fundamentally changed me that I'll talk about someday:
Neanderthal Opens the Doors to the Universe
The One Memory of Flora Banks
The Poisonwood Bible
The Raven Cycle (series)
The Catcher in the Rye
The Memory Keeper's Daughter
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shadow4-1 · 13 days
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I'm just imagining unknowingly giving the 141 boners.
Like, you're just minding your own business. You don't even wear revealing clothes.
For Soap, he gets hard when you get physical with him. Working out, wrestling, or just moving around. Watching you sprint makes him hungry for you. His brain imagines you panting, bent over in those tiny shorts, and flushed with heat. He's not shy about adjusting himself in his shorts either.
For Gaz, it's when you're typing away on a laptop or doing something with some finesse. Watching your fingers work gets him wound up. He can't help but imagine what your grip would feel like around him, or if you'd work him with just as much ease as you do everything else. He's pretty good about discreetly adjusting himself so you won't see his hard-on.
For Price, it's watching you drink something. He feels an unnecessarily large urge to pull your canteen away from your lips just to see the wetness dripping from them. Watching you greedily suck down water makes him throb. He can't help but imagine what it'd look like to have your soft, wet little mouth wrapped tight around him. He stays hard for awhile, but he's pretty good about talking himself down. He could easily have you anyway he wants, but he's better than that. He'll let you come to him.
For Ghost, it's watching you interact with the rest of the team. Watching you get hugs and pats from Soap and Gaz makes him ache with jealousy. He wants you and he's always hard for you. He doesn't even try to hide it.
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ridingthatd · 5 months
Text
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₊˚₊‧⁺˖ ITADORI AND HIS OLDER BROTHER
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₊˚₊‧⁺˖ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, fucking him and his brother, choso is fucked up, stalking
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itadori was such a puppy coded type of boyfriend, he was such a sweetheart, he was the type of boyfriend who would pick you up playfully and spin you around just to earn a giggle from you in return, he's the type to insist to take a shower with you, he had a rule that both of you should always bath together- whenever you plan to shower, yuji is already taking his shirt off, revealing his chest covered tattoos, getting ready to join you. he's the type to cuddle you all day whenever you had period cramps-
but he was also the type to fuck you through it, insisting that filling you with his warm cum would make you feel better, insisting that him sucking on your sore boobs would relief the pain, insisting that him licking your blood-soak pussy would make you both feel good- he wasn't lying, a thing that always set you off that yuji acted differently in sex, whenever he would fuck you, it wasn't a sweet love making type, it was the type that would almost make you pass out from being to stuffed with his monster of a cock, that would have you drooling, crossed eyed, out of your mind, that would leave bruises-marks on your body the next morning.
itadori was the type to love you with all his heart, to do anything for the people he loves, the people he care about, and the only people he cared about was you-
and his older brother choso, he looked nothing like your boyfriend- while your boyfriend held such a nice, approachable era around him, his brother was quite the opposite.
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his whole era screamed not approachable, a cold glare was always painted on his face, he had a long dark hair that he would usually throw in a bun, he was tall a bit taller than yuji was, and of course he had tattoos, their gang tattoos- yea your boyfriend was in a gang, to be honest you already knew quite awhile before yuji decided to tell you, it was because your boyfriend always had difficulties in lying he made it so obvious that you weren't surprised once he told you.
both of them had the same exact tattoos, but choso had one tattoo itadori didn't have- it was the tattoo on his face, a straight line painted on his nose.
choso have always wanted you- more like him and his little brother have always wanted you. they been stalking you for a year, ever since they saw you in the club where they had a gang meeting, you wouldn't leave their mind, so they stalked you, they both were fucked up in head, loving the feeling of watching you, your every step, everything you do without you knowing, loving the feeling of watching you moan, and whine in the shower as you use your little fingers to get off.
choso insisted that his little brother should get with you first, claim you first, before anyone else gets to do that before them- he knows he wouldn't let that happen, he would shred whoever dare to lay as much as a finger on you expect him and itadori.
choso sit on the guests bed, he was in the apartment of his little brother, staying in for a little, he always do his causal visits. loving the way you try so hard to hide your attraction to him, staring at him with your fuck me eyes, so tempting.
what would it feel like? to have your warm, wet pussy clutch around him, have the tip of his dick catch at the tight entrance and not let him go, demanding him right back in until he’s sheathed balls deep, his throbbing shaft engulfed and secure and feeling so good. and the day has finally come-
tears and hick ups falls from your lips, as your boyfriends brother, tease you, not letting you cum for the 3rd time. drool leaves your lips connecting your tongue to itadoris tongue as he pulls back, after he spat inside of your mouth, that was half opened the whole time not being able to stop your whines.
"aw look at her, such a pretty little baby, you wanna cum on my brothers tongue? you wanna squirt on his face?" yuji darkly speak out, as he harhsly twist your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling it.
you glance down between your thighs to see choso already hungrily staring at you, groaning and slurping on your pussy as if he's feasting on his prey, his huge thick fingers roughly going in-out of your cunt making loud wet noises.
"cum" this is all choso needed to say before you arch your back, your thighs shake, and clear liquid comes out squirting, gushing his whole face with it, choso opens his mouth and let it land directly in his mouth as if he's drinking from a fountain of a goddess. yuji couldn't help but groan at the sight, mouth watering wanting to taste your juice too.
as you limblessly lay down, not having the energy to move a muscle after all the teasing, your boyfriend pick you up and make you lay down on his chest, as he coo at you, showering your face with kisses- you were about to relax into his embrace but you feel his huge cock, rub on your pussy and make it's way inside of you- you whimper.
"shhh it's okay, it's okay leme keep my cock warm and good inside of your pretty little pussy yea?" itadori whispers next your ear, sucking on the tender spot on your neck, you feel chosos huge hands grab your ass and roughly lift you and slam you down his brothers cock, you gasp- he didn't leave any room for you to breath as he keep repeating the process, shoving you up-down, as he lean in, his chest on your back.
"you like that? is my little brothers cock filling you good?" he whispers next to your right ear, trailing his nose down your neck, as yuji suck on your bouncing nipples- clearly to lost in your pussy to keep on what his brother is doing.
you stiffen once you feel a cold metal on your asshole, not quite sure what it is, you don't realize what it is till you feel the warm, twitching cock of choso- it was a piercing, choso had a piercing on his cock. he slowly spread your cheeks, and circle your hole with his cock, before he gently start making his way in, tearing through your ass.
"fuck she got even more tighter fuck fuck fuck" you glance down at your boyfriend he was rocking his hips up your pussy, fucked out his mind, this sight of him was such a turn on that you lean down to suck on his lips, while making clear access for choso to shove his entire cock in.
you choke not being able to breath, " to- to much to much to much" you cry out crawling your nails on yuji chest trying to escape his brothers cock that teared into your ass. choso laughs darkly- it was the first time you heared him laughing before he grabs your hips and shoved you towards him.
"you can't run little pet, now you're finally mine i won't ever let you go" he roughly grabs your hair and slams into you, ignoring your cry out, itadori grabs your chin, leading your lips to his, as he keeps humping up your pussy.
you were so filled that you think both of their cocks might come out your nose, your mind was fuggy to much pleasure on your body, all you could think about was their massive cocks, thoughts only circling around dick, dick, dick, dick.
"we going to cum inside of both of yours holes baby, fill you in so so so so good" itadori whine, as he spills his warm white liquid inside of you- you can feel his thighs shaking, eyes crossed so fucked out. just like you were.
"now it's my turn" choso groans out before he fills your tight ass, not stopping till every single drop was inside of you. you soon follow him squirting on yujis cock helpsly being sandwiched by both of them.
"round 2?" itadori grins.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
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dr3c0mix · 4 months
Text
Bloody Red Roses
Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader
CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now
👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.
👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.
👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.
👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!
👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!
👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.
👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.
👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”
👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess
👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.
👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear
👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.
👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.
👑 “…”
👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”
👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”
👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.
👑 “Hm…”
👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.
👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?
👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.
👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.
👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.
👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.
👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”
👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.
👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..
👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.
👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..
👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)
👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.
👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..
👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”
👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.
👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless
👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”
👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..
👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”
👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…
👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him
👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys
👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”
👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.
👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!
👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”
👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.
👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!
👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.
👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.
👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”
👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch
👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!
👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!
👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”
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It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq
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ceruleancattail · 6 months
Note
If reqs are still open could I get the basketball club boys with reader who likes to fall asleep/lay on their chest? Totally fine if not, thanks!
Ace, Jamil and Floyd with a s/o who likes to fall asleep on their chest
Ace x reader, Jamil x reader, Floyd x reader
Ace’s a stuttering mess.
A blush coating his cheeks, scarlet blooming on his skin. Vibrant flowers that spread to both his ears in turn. His mouth falls open, lips fumbling around desperately. Trying to form words, but the letters all fall off the tip of his tongue, emotions running free.
How could he even speak? There were no words in language to describe the pure bliss flowing through his veins. You, leaning against his chest. Hand clutching at his uniform loosely, mouth just ever so slightly open…
He’ll be stock still for a few moments, before a trembling hand reaches for your sleeping form. Gingerly wrapping his arm around you, a casual embrace. One he’ll explain off with a shrug and a laugh if anyone asked.
“They just took a nap right here. Crazy, right?”
Boyish bluster, typical of Ace. Yet no amount of his excuse could explain away the sappy smile playing on his lips whenever Ace looked at you.
If you wake up, the first thing you’ll see is Ace’s smirk, dripping with smugness. Arms tugging you back to his embrace, laughing all the way. He’ll ask if you had sweet dreams, jabbing your cheek playfully. Well, with the way you were drooling all over his chest, you had a great nap.
Isn’t Ace just the best pillow?
Feel free to come to him anytime, yeah?
Jamil sighs.
Honestly, couldn’t you find a better place to take a nap? He’ll chide you under his breath, words as soft as spring’s gentle breeze. Shaking his head, tutting his disapproval.
Of course, his arms are snaking around your torso, bringing you closer to him. For all his exasperation, Jamil just can’t find it in his heart to wake you. Not when you’re lying right in his chest, every breath coming out in little puffs. They waft against his skin, warmth lingering like feather light kisses.
Gently, he’ll lift you up. Placing you on his lap, head resting against his collarbone. Jamil’s hands rest on your back, palms flat against your skin. Moving in ceaseless circles, rubbing your back for the sake of having something to do.
He isn’t too used to staying idle for long.
Although he has to admit, a break like this isn’t too bad once in awhile. Especially if you’re here, all curled up against his. It isn’t too bad, feeling your warmth melt against his, heartbeats slowing until they beat in sync. Beat as one.
Even if you wake up, Jamil just might feign sleep. Head leaning into the crook of your shoulders, arms reluctant to let go of your torso. A faint pink tinging his cheeks, a soft little whisper slipping out of his lips.
A little longer, please, love.
Floyd has to stop himself from laughing.
You’re rather brave, aren’t you? Letting your guard down right in front of him like that. Dropping onto his chest, dozing away. Cheek pressing into his chest, soft like dough. Your eyelids squeezed shut, every breath wafting against Floyd’s skin. Like the gentle caress of the sea, lapping against the shore.
Aren’t you just the cutest little thing, shrimpy?
Floyd immediately wraps you in his arms, yanking you closer to him. Plopping you right on his lap, cradling you in his embrace. Maybe he’ll sneak in a squeeze or two, giving you a tight little hug. Anything to feel you closer to his body. To feel your warmth bleed into his skin. Almost the heat of a roaring fireplace, illuminating the depths of his heart.
He leans over you, engulfing you in his lanky frame. Wrapping around you protectively, a passionate embrace. He never takes his eyes off your sleeping form, finger poking at your nose teasingly. The way you scrunch it up is so fun to watch.
Floyd pokes and prods, chuckling at your unconscious reactions. Of course, he’ll never wake you. Not intentionally, anyways.
How could you blame him?
You look adorable in his arms.
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Note
Oliver keeps on staring at reader and Felix notices it and gets possessed so he put on a later show for him. Like making out but don’t having full on sex. Then the next morning readers walking to breakfast with a lot of hickeys all over her and she can’t cover it up.
Mine, all Mine || Felix Catton x reader
A/n: thank u for the request ml 🫶 sorry it took me awhile to post this 🥲
Warnings: fem!reader, possesive!Felix, swearing, smoking, Oliver being sorta creepy
Wc: 864
Felix Catton Masterlist
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As Felix listened to your conversation with a few others in the circle of friends around you, his eyes caught Oliver Quick staring shamelessly at you from his window. Taking a long drag, he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers delicately tracing the necklace that bore his initials, all while looking at Oliver.
It took Oliver a few seconds to realise that Felix was staring straight at him, and when he did, he scrambled from the window which earned a soft chuckle from Felix.
For the next couple of days, Felix would often catch Oliver staring at you. It irritated him to say the least, especially since he would stare longer when you were on his lap, or when you were holding hands and walking around campus. Clearly, Oliver didn’t know better.
You were sat on Felix’s lap at a Halloween party, you were dressed up as a slutty maid while Felix was dressed as a cop. “What are you looking at?” You say in his ear, noticing that his attention was elsewhere. His hand on your hip gives you a reassuring squeeze before he smiles at you.
"Nothing," he brushes it off, planting a kiss on your collarbone, but a lingering doubt tugs at you. Your eyes roam the crowded room before locking onto Oliver.
He averts his gaze, sipping his drink briefly, while you narrow your eyes at him. “Do you know Oliver?” you redirect your attention to Felix, and his eyes snap up to meet yours.
“Hm?” He’s caught off guard by your sudden question. “Oliver? He was checking us out,” you casually shrug, not giving it much thought, just noting the observation.
“That weirdo? No. Just seen him around campus,” Felix clears his throat, putting the lollipop he was sucking on back in his mouth, catching your eye. “Stay away from him though, yeah?” His possessive tone lingers as he points his lollipop at you prompting a subtle smirk from you.
“Felix, darling, you know me,” you say in a sultry tone, taking the lollipop from his fingers and sensually popping it into your mouth. Your gaze holds his as you swirl it around your tongue, before innocently looking away, leaving an enticing allure in the air.
Felix subtly adjusts beneath you, and a self-satisfied smile crosses your lips as you sense the impact of your actions. You can feel the growing bulge beneath your skirt, and without a single word, Felix effortlessly repositions you on his lap, now straddling him.
“Have I told you how insanely hot you look in that costume?” His eyes roam down your front, pausing where your outfit leaves little to the imagination. You giggle, playfully tilting your head as if you were thinking.
“I don’t think so,” Felix tilts his head back, emitting a low whistle, his gaze intense on you. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Kiss me.” Your hands find their place on his shoulders.
Felix lets out a deep chuckle, “Yes ma’am,” You both smile before he grips the back of you hair and pulls you close to him. His lips feverishly kissing your lips as you let out a low groan at the feeling of his bulge underneath you.
You leave his lips, trailing kisses down his neck. Felix’s eyes were wide open as he stared right back at Ollie from across the room. He reviled being watched. Unfazed, Oliver didn’t bother looking away, shamelessly watching you as you leave marks on Felix’s neck.
Felix smirks at Ollie, kneading the flesh of your ass, drawing a moan from you. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispers in your ear. Eagerly nodding, you rise, and as Felix playfully slaps your ass, you stumble slightly, but his large hand steadies your waist.
Unbeknownst to you, Felix shoots Ollie a look before winking at him and leading you away. Surely now, Oliver would get the memo and back off.
~
Walking into the hall, you push your sunglasses higher up the bridge of your nose. With a slightly annoyed demeanour, you cross your arms, acutely aware of the hushed whispers and stares from fellow students.
Felix left about half a dozen hickeys along your collarbone and neck. You didn’t even try to conceal them either with makeup since they were deep hues of purple.
“Move,” You hear Farleigh say to a random beside him as he quickly scrambles and he takes his spot, giving you space to sit in between him and Felix.
Your hand meets Felix’s chest with a resounding slap as you settle into your seat with a huff, “Did you really have to make them this dark?” Felix stops chewing his toast, “Yes, yes I did,” a proud grin adorning his face while you shoot him a disapproving scowl.
“Why the sunglasses, y/n?” Farleigh nudges you, prompting you to take them off briefly. Your red eyes meet his gaze, causing him to cringe. “Put them back on, please,” he murmurs, and you respond with a casual flip-off, continuing with your breakfast.
Locking eyes with Oliver at the table across from yours, you catch him mid-sip. “He really has a staring problem,” you remark aloud. Farleigh and Felix turn towards you simultaneously, asking in sync, “Who?” Farleigh cranes his neck, attempting to look at where you were looking.
“Oliver,” You murmured. “Fucks sake, does he not get the hint,” Felix curses—clearly exasperated—leaving you confused. “What hint-“ Before you could finish your sentence, Felix takes ahold of your chin with a firm yet gentle touch, pulling you into a kiss.
“Jesus, right now?” Farleigh gags beside you, his reaction mirroring your own surprise at the suddenness of Felix’s kiss.
Your manicured nails rest on his jaw as Felix lifts his hand up to flip off Oliver who was staring through the gap of people. He pulls back as you catch your breath, “Swap with me,” He says as he moves back on his seat.
You give him an odd look, “So he doesn’t keep staring at what’s mine,” Felix’s voice was laced with possessiveness as you stand up and move across his lap to where he previously sat, his hands on your hips guiding you.
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stylesparker · 8 months
Text
closer than friends
PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
WARNINGS: season 1/2 era, friends to lovers, sweet love confession, Dean being Sam’s wingman
A/N: my first supernatural fic is finally here!!! It’s been a long while since I’ve had the motivation to write, and I’m so glad I was able to get this out and share it. Please reblog if you enjoy!! <33
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"How many times are you gonna shift in your goddamn seat, woman, jesus christ." Dean glances over at you from the wheel for the fourth time, watching you rub your eyes and knock your shoulder into the side of the Impala's door again.
"It's not my fault the passenger seat isn't made for comfortable napping, Dean."
You hear Sam chuckle from over your shoulder; this makes you look back to find him comfortably nestled into the corner of the backseat with his sweatshirt tucked in the crook of his neck so he can lean against his door without discomfort.
You huff, "I don't want a word from you."
"Says the girl who called shotgun and fought for the front seat all morning."
"What did I just say?"
Dean rolls his eyes, "Okay, knock it off. We're finding a place to sleep tonight."
While Dean focuses back onto driving, you try your hardest to find a suitable position that would allow you to sleep for awhile up until you guys made it to whatever hotel you were staying in for the night. You'd like to blame the Impala for your sleep deprivation, but you've slept in it before just fine, so you know the car isn't the problem. Even though you're going on just over 36 hours of no sleep, your mind won't shut off. The events of the case you were working on for the past couple of days play like a movie in your head, reminding you of how it ended over and over again.
You swallow quite harshly, and shift in your seat again. Something soft smacks the back of your head and you whip around to see what Sam's hit you with, but it's just his sweatshirt, and he's already leaning against the side of the car like he was before, almost as if he hadn't moved at all.
You mumble out a quiet "thank you," and you don't bother to even listen for any sort of reply before you're stuffing his sweatshirt underneath your head and forcing yourself to go to sleep. It's not long before you hear Sam's soft breathing from the backseat signifying that the boy has finally fallen asleep himself. You almost gave up until you saw Dean turn down his music just a little, side-eyeing you as he looked between you and the road.
"Is that better?" He asks.
"It was fine before."
"I'll keep it like this anyway."
You hum in response, and he goes back to humming his own tune to follow along with the music. With Sam's soft breathing in the back and Dean's low humming, you finally find something else other than your mind to focus on, which ultimately leads to your eyes lulling shut and you drifting off to sleep.
When your eyes start to peel back open again, the car is stopped and there's light rain patter on the wind shield. You lift your head causing Sam's sweatshirt to lightly fall into your lap, and at the same time the door opens revealing a slightly wet Sam waiting for you.
"C'mon, we're here."
"Slow your roll, Sammy, I just woke up." Your head lolls back onto the seat, and you let your eyes close once again, forgetting about Sam who's standing in the rain waiting for you to get out.
"Alright, let's go."
You shiver and grumble a slight protest as you feel his cold hands slip underneath your body to grab you and pick you out of the Impala. He knocks the door shut as he cradles you close to his chest as to not drop you, and as he locks the car. Your ear stays smushed against his front as he carries you, allowing you to feel the soft pitter patter of his heart beating in his chest.
"What time is it?" You mumble sleepily.
"Close to ten."
"That's it?"
"Yeah." You nod, not replying this time so you can nod back off in his arms. You're back to being fast asleep once again by the time Sam reaches the room Dean picked out for you, and he tries tucking you into your bed as gently as possible so he doesn't accidentally wake you up. In the short process you only mutter something unintelligible to Sam's ears as he finishes pulling the blankets up, so he ignores it and kisses you on the forehead, bidding you a good night before he retreats back to the room he's sharing with Dean for the night.
It's much later when you're rudely roused from sleep by a nightmare; you sit up straight in the bed with your hands by your sides clawing at the sheets, your eyes wide and unfocused, much too scared to figure out where you are or how you've gotten there. It takes a second to realize you're in a motel room, and now, the sheets that were once neatly laid over your body are haphazardly thrown towards the end of the bed, practically hanging off and hitting the floor. You take a shaky deep breath in and out, taking your trembling hand and placing it over your heart in an attempt to regulate it.
After a couple minutes your breathing is sort of back to normal, but your shakiness hasn't stopped. At that point, you're aware you won't be falling asleep again anytime soon, so you sit up further and throw your legs off the bed to go and find something to busy yourself with. In the corner there's a chair that you notice has your bag on top of it, and there's a small table next to it with a notepad. Your curiosity pulls you towards it, and when your feet reach the table, you're able to make out Sam's sloppy handwriting.
If you need us. - S
Next to the writing is a key card, which you can obviously assume is the one to their room. You pick it up and turn it over a few times, debating on whether this dream was something worth needing them for. In your head, needing was the same thing as bothering and it was never used as a positive term. But you know that if you spend another minute in that bed you might actually start crying and drive yourself crazy over the dream, so you take your chances and hope one of the boys will let you sleep in their bed or at least talk to you for awhile and get your mind off of it.
When you open the door and step outside, you become acutely aware of the cold air on your arms and legs rather quickly, and you begin to wish you were wearing a sweatshirt instead of one of Sam's shirts and a pair of shorts. The chill encapsulates you, making you hasten your step towards the room down the hall with the number specified on the key card. Once you make it to the room, you're pushing yourself up on your tip toes because, despite your sock covered feet, the ground is still horridly cold and you're hoping to get off it as soon as possible. Although, you find yourself unable to let yourself in once you find yourself standing in front of the door. You give it a good five minutes before you work up the nerve to finally pat the key card on the handle to allow yourself in the room. Once you've pushed open the door a crack, you're able to perceive a bed-side lamp turned on, and Sam leaning against his headboard next to it.
His head snaps up from his book at the sound of the door being pushed open, but he relaxes when he realizes it's you.
"Hey," he says softly. He's in the brown sweatshirt you were passing back and forth earlier, and he's weirdly still in a pair of jeans, but at this point you're used to seeing Sam and Dean wearing their jeans to bed.
"Hi," you respond back, even softer.
Sam likes to think he's pretty good at perceiving your body language, especially after knowing you for so long; so when he notices your trembling hands, your flushed cheeks, and your frantic eyes, he knows that you've had a nightmare.
He's not gonna ask why you're there since he knows why, so he only pats the side of the bed next to him and asks, "You wanna' join me?"
You're quick to nod your head and cross the room to join him, and it's only then when you're on the bed that you notice Dean isn't in the other one.
"Where's Dean?"
"Oh, he left to drive around. He's probably at a bar, or sleeping in the car somewhere." He says casually.
You hum, "Couldn't sleep?"
"Neither of us really could. He asked if I wanted to come with, but I didn't really feel like leavin'." Sam left out the fact he didn't want to leave you here alone, since he doesn't like leaving you anywhere by yourself. Dean doesn't either, but he doesn't get fussy over it like Sam sometimes does when you fight them on it.
"I can't either," you say quietly.
With some of your hair dangling in your face and your flushed cheeks, you look sort of delicate in Sam's eyes. You look sad, but when you look at him you have a gentle smile covering your lips, and when you look away your mouth curves downward again, only slightly, to where you might think he won't notice, but he does.
Sam's always stayed observant of you, even when you think you're the one who takes all the mental notes of him.
He reaches out, lifting the hand closest to you and letting his palm rest gently on top of your shoulder.
"You okay?" He almost looks like a puppy when he asks, and it's pitiful. For you mostly because he's cute, but why should he look like that when you feel like you're gonna start crying any minute.
You don't even want to answer because if your mouth opens you're either gonna say you're fine, or words describing the terrors you experienced in your sleep are going to come pouring out of your mouth and you won't be able to stop until you're a sobbing, pitiful mess and you could not handle being that way in front of Sam.
You couldn't.
But looking at him looking at you so fondly, it's like he's trying to tell you he'll comfort you the only way he knows how and he's gonna fix all your problems with a touch or two alone. Like the way he wants to hold you will melt all your fears into nothing and the way he wants to kiss you will make you forget any of it even happened. His eyes speak more than words could express in this moment and you don't even care if you seem desperate, or needy, or anything really. You allow yourself to fall forward into his awaiting arms, and when your head meets his chest, you can't help the first sob that escapes your lips.
You sound so tired, and the way that you're crying so harshly makes him feel like you're tearing yourself apart inside, like each breath is ripping off another piece of your heart.
"Honey..." he breathes out gently, wrapping his one arm around your neck and his other only comes up about half way so he can hold your head close to him under his chin. You've fallen completely into his side, your head against his chest and one leg practically in his lap, but he doesn't seem mind. “Do you… want to talk about it?”
You consider it for a moment; you probably would feel better opening up to him about the case you just worked, considering he was also there and knows how hard it was, but you also know opening up to Sam makes you feel close to him. Intimate almost. You’ve never been one to share your thoughts or feelings generously, and you think that must have just came with the messed up childhood, since Sam and Dean are pretty much the same way. But as the years went on, the boys got much better at opening up to you than you did them. Although, if there was anyone that could get you to talk, it was Sam.
Today, you decided, would not be one of those days.
You shake your head, "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'll be fine." You know by his soft sigh that he doesn't believe you, but luckily he doesn't push it. "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" You whisper shyly, despite knowing he wouldn't say no to you.
"Yeah," he strokes your hair softly, "Yeah, of course."
You lay comfortably against him as he slowly but surely calms you down, holding your head and rubbing your arm gently as you let out sad little sniffles. Once you've relaxed, you murmur something into his chest that he thinks might have been a thank you, but before he can ask you've already fallen asleep.
About an hour later after the two of you have fallen asleep, Dean unlocks the door and enters the room slightly shitfaced but more so tired. He freshens up in the bathroom so he doesn't wake up feeling even worse in a couple of hours, and he doesn't even notice you're there until he's trudging out of it, eyes wide and feet frozen to the floor as he takes in the image of you and Sam cuddled up to each other in Sam's bed. He manages to put his fist against his mouth just in time to cover up a surprised laugh, taking in the sight of his little brother in the same bed as their best friend.
"This is gold." Dean smiles mischievously, pulling his phone out of his pocket to capture the moment. "Just friends my ass." He mutters.
...
"Dean, if I have to hear you say that girl's name again one more time, I'm going to chop your head off. I don't care how good she was at su-"
"Alright, alright, let's quiet down shall' we?" Sam pats your shoulder and looks around the cafe to see if anyone heard you bickering with Dean about last night's one night stand. Dean laughs loudly as he lets himself into the corner booth that the three of you chose while you were walking in.
"What, you nervous someone's gonna hear us, Sammy?"
"It's 8 in the morning, Dean. Let's be a little respectful."
You hide your giggle, "Yeah, Dean."
Dean rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam as he ever so casually throws his arm over the back of the seat behind you, looking at the side of your face to see if you've taken notice. You're picking your nail, completely oblivious. He almost rolls his eyes again.
"Well," Dean straightens up, "Let's see what we have on the menu today."
"Don't act like you're not going to get the same exact thing you get every day," you comment, not even looking up from your nail.
"What's with the attitude, sweetheart? Didn't sleep well?" Sam's smile quickly turns to an annoyed frown as he makes eye contact with Dean, silently sending him daggers to keep his mouth shut.
You squint your eyes at him and open your mouth to come back with a retort, but the waitress walks up before you get the chance to say anything.
"Are y'all ready yet, or would you like a few minutes?" She asks kindly.
"Can we have a couple more minutes?" You say, since the three of you haven't even taken a look at the menu yet. She nods and retreats, leaving you alone with the boys once again. Sam and Dean grab their menus and you quickly realize there isn't a third, so you go to call the waitress back, but Sam nudges you just before you do.
"It's fine, just share mine." You huddle close next to him, resting your chin on your hand as you survey the food options as Sam does the same. He's so close his hair just so slightly grazes the skin of your cheek. Dean raises his eyebrows when he notices Sam's leg has started bouncing and he covers up his laugh with a cough just as he did last night, busying himself and acting clueless as the two of you look up at him.
"You alright?" You ask jokingly.
"Yup, totally fine. You guys ready yet?"
"Yep. How about you, Sammy?" He clears his throat and doesn't say anything, but he nods his head in response, which has you eyeing him weirdly. You choose to ignore it and let Sam order for you while you kick Dean under the table to stop being flirty with the nice waitress, and he only winks at you before he gives his order too.
When the waitress departs from your table, Dean lets his eyes follow her just for a second before he's turning back to the two of you, and he gets this questioning look on his face when he realizes the two of you are blankly glaring at him with the same narrowed eyes.
"What," he throws his hands up in defense, "I can't admire a good-looking woman?"
You and Sam glance at each other with a knowing glance right before you look back at Dean and say, "What's with you today? Why are you acting so..."
"Strange." Sam says. He leans forward on the table, "Why do you look like you're up to something?"
"Huh? Me?" Dean points to himself, "I'm not up to anything. I'm just being plain old me."
"Yeah, sure." You laugh him off and start a side conversation with Sam that has the two of you forgetting about Dean for the moment. Dean always knew Sam liked you; it's so obvious, at least to him. But he wishes he'd realized before how clearly obvious you are too. He doesn't know if he wants to throw up or throw a party.
...
A couple weeks later
"One or two rooms?" The lady asks.
"One please." Dean replies, handing the lady one of his debit cards that probably had some weird made up name on it. When Dean turns around with his debit card and the key in hand, you and Sam are looking at him weird like a couple of toddlers.
"Really? One room? Since when have we done that?" You questioned.
"Since you and Sammy boy over here started sharing a bed every night. I'm not gonna pay for two rooms when you don't use yours." Dean quickly catches on to how he's embarrassed the two of you so he adds, "and besides, I'd rather you stick with us anyway. Keep the team together." He pats your shoulder with a smirk and leaves the two of you behind. Sam spares a glance at your face and he's a bit surprised to find that you're just as taken aback as he is, but you don't say anything and you follow Dean rather quickly.
The three of you head back to the Impala to grab your bags before heading to the room, and when you go to take out yours, Sam slides in front of you and grabs his in one hand, and yours in the other.
"Sam." You say impassively.
"Yeah?"
"I am fully capable of grabbing my own bag."
"Oh I know. I'm just getting a quick work-out, since you know, your bag is like 50 pounds from all the clothes you carry.
"It is not, I barely bring anything with me!"
"You might be right, but if I may ask, how many of the shirts in here are actually mine?"
You pretend to think, "Um, probably like two. Maybe three."
A wide grin spreads across his face as he laughs at you, "Now you're lying! Half my wardrobe is in here!" Sam pushes the cracked door open with his behind and holds it open for you, standing to the side with his foot on the door. Dean's bag is at the end of his bed and he's already crashed on the bed nearest to the door.
"Hey, it's not my fault your clothes are more comfortable than mine! I don't know who decided that men deserve softer clothes."
"Well, in that case," he dropped the bags, "be my guest."
"Oh, how sweet. I like how you think you had any choice in the matter."
"Haha, very funny. Do you want the first shower?"
"You can take it, I had it the other night. Besides, I need to figure out which shirt I'm stealing tonight. I was thinking of the blue one, or actually, maybe the green-"
"Oh my god, I'm leaving." He rolls his eyes, but you can see the amused smirk on his face as he heads to the bathroom, and gently closes the door behind him. You giggle to yourself as you pull out his blue shirt from your bag and a pair of pants since it's a bit chillier tonight.
He's out of the shower pretty quick, and when he emerges from the steamy bathroom, you're next to Dean's bed whacking him repeatedly with a pillow.
"I told you to stop snoring!" You yell at him.
"Hmph, stop hitting me, crazy woman!" He mumbles sleepily at you. You stop hitting him when you notice Sam watching you, and he wants to laugh at how cute you look, like some kid who's got caught doing something they're not supposed to.
"What, he was bothering me."
He smiles, "I don't doubt it."
He doesn't realize that you froze mainly because he came out in a pair of sweats and no shirt, with his hair dripping wet and a towel around his shoulders. Dean peaks his eyes open and grumbles when he notices the way you're looking at him. You hear Dean, which breaks you out of your temporary trance.
You drop the pillow and give him a sheepish look, "I'm gonna- I'll take my shower now." You nod, promptly leaving the room after you grab the clothes you had set out on your bed. Sam watches you leave, more than a bit confused might he add, suspicious of the way your mood had suddenly changed. Once he hears the water running and the curtain pull back signifying you're in the shower, and can no longer hear him, he settles on the bed and asks Dean a question.
"What happened?"
"You happened, you idiot."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said. I'm sick and tired of watching you two pine after the other when you clearly love each other, so for gods sake- no, my sake, tell the girl you love her and get on with it!"
Sam's face is hysterical, and if Dean weren't so tired right now he'd be laughing, but he's exhausted in more ways than one, so all he can do is shut is eyes and hope his little brother makes a move on the girl who's been his practically since the day they met her.
"D-Dean... I can't just-"
"Yes you can, and you will." Dean finalizes. "At this point I'll just do it for you. It's unbearable." Sam huffs loudly, flopping back onto the bed.
He lays there and stares at the ceiling for awhile until he hears his brother's soft snores coming from the other side of the room; when he sits up and runs a hand through his hair, he hears the shower turn off and your light humming become more audible.
He takes a final deep breath just as you walk out of the bathroom with your hair combed nicely and your warm pajamas, perfectly ready for bed. Not exactly ready for your best friend to confess his undying love for you. He wants to crumble at the sight of your smile.
"You okay?" You ask gently. "You look a little pale."
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he waves you off, "When am I not fine?"
You laugh softly, "Do you want me to answer that?"
"Actually no." He gives a soft laugh of his own before his eyes land on his brother again, thinking over the words that were spoken to him just minutes prior to you walking out of that door. You were so near, so close to their conversation, and you have no idea. He can't help but think that maybe you'll be taken aback, shocked beyond belief, or traumatized enough to the point you yell at him and leave him for good. Or, maybe... possibly... there's a small chance you do feel the way that Dean says you feel, and in just a few moments the entirety of your relationship will change. Well, no matter what it'll change.
He just hopes it's what he feels it might be.
Sam's face snaps up to you quickly, like he's just had a sudden thought, and his eyes hold yours for a beat too long before he asks, "Can we go outside for a second?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure." He gets up and takes long strides towards the door, you just a foot behind. He opens it and leaves it open for you to slide through, and he's standing there with his hands in his pockets facing away from you. You give him a questioning glance, but he doesn't see it.
"You have the key?" You query.
"Um..." he pulls out the card in his hand to make sure and you giggle at him, but he just nods, putting it back in his pocket, gulping strangely, "Yeah, I got it."
"Okay." You whisper softly, closing the door quietly behind you. You're silent for a moment, giving him a second to see if he'd speak first, but he doesn't. "You okay, Sammy?"
"I'm in love with you."
Not even a beat later, those words exit his mouth, and everything changes. The atmosphere that was once light, comfortable, and knowing, has shifted to one of fearful eyes, harsh breaths and unspeakable tension. His hands, once unafraid to grab hold of you, now remain glued to his side, flexing and itching to reach forward and touch your skin. His heart is beating so fast he feels like it's getting torn out; each individual piece of it being sliced and picked carefully from his chest as if he were on an operating table.
He can't tell if the look on your face is fear or shock. Probably both. But he doesn't know if it's good or bad and it's scaring him.
"Say something." He breathes out, with a drop of desperation.
Your mouth, hung open for a brief amount of time, now closes, and you gulp just like he did before he uttered those five little words.
"What did you say?" you murmur, looking like you just got pulled from space.
He repeats himself. "I'm in love with you."
You don't say anything again, but he continues.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to say that." He interrupts himself with a laugh, a scared, almost detached sounding laugh, but one nonetheless. You stare at him as he goes on. "For weeks I've had these moments where I look at you and all I can think about is telling you how I feel, but then some part of me ruins it and then I forget about it until you do something again that makes me want to say it again."
"Which, I swear is every two seconds because all you have to do is look at me with those eyes and all I want to do is grab your face and tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me and how I can't stand sleeping next to you one more night without you knowing that I can't sleep without you anymore. I need you by my side, tucking your head under mine. It's not that I can't because I could, but I don't ever want to again. I could live a hundred lifetimes, all of them with you in them, but if you weren't mine, if you were someone else's, I wouldn't dare live another."
When he notices the tear streaking down your face, he finally reaches forward to hold your cheek in the palm of his hand. Your own comes up from your side to grip tight onto the wrist that's holding your face, and he can tell that you've noticed he's shaking.
"Sam..." Your voice comes out unsure, "Are you sure?"
"Am I sure?" He questions you, giving you an incredulous look. "Sweetheart, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
You're holding onto him so tight, he just knows what you're going to say next.
"I love you." You thought it would come out a whisper, but it sounds stronger than you expected. You close your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Sam, I love you so much."
His smile is brighter than a thousand suns, and his forehead drops against yours, staying there as you breath the other in; this new confession bringing in a wind of fresh air that has you feeling like you've both earned a pair of new lungs.
"I thought you might say that." He utters quietly, making you laugh and hit his chest lightly.
"Oh, shut up. Then why were you so scared, dumbass."
"I was confessing my love for you, either way I'm gonna be nervous!"
You smile cheekily, "Your love for me..."
"Don't act like you didn't know." His other hand comes up to hold the other side of your face, tilting your head up more to see you clearly.
"Maybe. But I had my doubts too." You confess.
Sam shrugs, "Well, without Dean I probably wouldn't have said anything for another decade, so-"
Your mouth drops open, "You finally gained the courage because Dean forced you to?" Sam stays still as you gape at him, and he smiles nervously.
"Does it help if I was thinking about it first?"
"Oh my god." You groan dejectedly and drop your head forward onto his chest. He holds the back of your head as he shakes with laughter.
"Okay, okay, be mad at me, whatever. Am I getting my kiss now?"
"Who said you were gonna get one at all?"
"Don't mess with me."
"I wouldn't dare."
...
The next morning, Dean groggily peels his eyes open to the morning sunlight peeking out of the curtains, and grumbles, questioning the time. It's around 8 am, which surprises him because he would have expected you or Sam to have woken him by now. At the thought of you guys, he turns over and manages to find himself alone in the dingy motel room. The bed covers are torn from the top of the bed, more settled towards the end of it, showing that you guys obviously slept in it, but there's no sign you or Sam are even still here.
Suddenly, he hears the low growl of his Baby pulling up outside, making him swing his legs out of bed and trudge over to the door. He swings it open, getting ready to yell at the both of you for going anywhere without him, even if it was breakfast, but his eyes widen and his jaw drops at the sight he's seeing.
You and Sam are standing close together near the trunk, leaning against the side, but mostly the other. Sam's hand, that isn't holding the grocery bags, is holding your hip, and you're looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eye. Sam says something which conjures up a giggle out of you, which then has Sam smiling brightly at the sight of you. He leans down and kisses you straight on the lips, holding you there for a moment before he pulls away to catch his breath. Both of you stand there, unaware of Dean's eyes on you, but neither of you would even really care if you did.
Dean's shocked expression turns to one of accomplishment. He nods, satisfied, and smiles like his brother just did. He sighs.
"Kids."
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weeknd-ogoc · 5 months
Text
BEGGING ˳ ׄ ⟡  . CARLOS SAINZ JR.
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SUMMARY: in which carlos suffers the consequences of liking an influencer who is younger than him. (part one / part two) FACE CLAIM: kelsey calemine CONTAINS: reader is 21; 8 year age gap, jealous!carlos, lando crushing on reader, ex boyfriend!vinniehacker, oral receiving (m) & smut! AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is a little different than what i usually do so hopefully you guys like it! my requests are open!
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ynusername
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liked by carlossainz55, vinniehacker, and 3,343,432 others
ynusername chasing sunsets and cherry dreams 🍒
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username lord have mercy we must stay focused brothers we must stay focused
francisca.cgomes you're unreal!
ynusername ily.
username mother y/n
username please god let me be her
vinniehacker kiss me
ynusername pull up vincent username vinnie what are you doing here
username i'm a lesbian now
landonorris jesus
ynusername 😚
username single and without children, just for you
ynusername 🌚 um i'm telling your wife
username team vinnie till i die
you were currently on a secret mini getaway with an older forumla one driver — the both of you were not looking for anything serious right now so you'd secretly meet up every once in awhile.
"listen if you just say yes to lando, we can go on summer vacations together next year!" kika told you over the phone. "when was the last time you had a boyfriend and vinnie doesn't count!"
"whose vinnie?" you heard pierre whisper.
carlos sainz bit back a moan as you jerked his cock off in one hand and held your phone to your ear with the other. 
"keeks, i really don't need a boyfriend..."
he undid your bikini top as you continued to listen to your friend. "fuck..." you watched as he pinched your nipple. "i've never seen someone with better tits than yours.”
you smiled up at him before talking once more.
as much as he loved hearing your voice, right now was really not the time. "hang up befor-"
you playfully rolled your eyes at him and gave his tip a little kiss before you wrapped your mouth against his length once more but jumped up once again. "no way! he told pierre that?"
at this point he had clenched his jaw and tried to remember how long ago this conversation first started.
"hold on." you then looked up at carlos who had an unamused face. "did you know lando was going to ask me out on a date a few days ago?"
of coarse he knew.
"why do you think i brought you here." he mumbled and tried snatching your phone from your hand but failed. "please, i'm begging you to hang up..."
even though he wasn't looking for something serious, he didn't want to share the girl he was currently fucking.
you continued pumping his cock and talking to your friend until he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed you down his length causing you to let out a loud gag.
as you slapped his thigh, he overheard francisca ask if you were alright which he grabbed the phone out of your hand and put it up to his ear. "she's busy, she'll call you back later."
he let go of your head and you pinched his arm. "carlos, i swear somet-"
he shrugged as you tried complaining some more but he pulled you up from your knees and kissed you violently, saliva running down your mouth. "now let's take this off of you..." he said as he undid your bottom.
ynusername
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ynusername on wednesdays we wear pink
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tanamongeau y/n im obsessed 😍
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a week later you had shown up to club with lando norris after a race in miami, kika had her arm intertwined with yours as you guys went to the bar to get a drink.
"you still haven't told me who the mystery boy was from the other day." she said as you sipped on your drink.
you shrugged. "it was carlos sainz..."
she smiled as she playfully slapped your arm. "oh not a mystery boy, it was a man! he's cute..."
before you could fill her in on all the juicy details, lando was already pulling you away. "i'm going to borrow her..."
lando and you had known each other for about a year now and even though you repeatedly told him that you weren't looking for anything serious, he was trying everything in his power to make you his.
carlos had arrived with rebecca but his eye was on you and he saw how lando would wrap his arm around your waist when a guy would try to talk to you.
that should be him wrapping his arm around you.
when he saw lando getting a bit too close to you, he walked over to you guys and you smiled at the sight of him. "carlos!" you gave him a hug and he hugged you a little tighter, the hug lasted a little longer than what lando expected so he gently pulled you back into him.
rebbeca gave you a small smile and held onto carlos's hand.
"how do you guys know each other?"
"pierre introduced us awhile back."
so the four of you sat in a booth and as the boys talked about the race results, rebbeca and you had small talks here and there.
"so you're twenty one?" she asked and you nodded. "pretty young..."
you nodded once again and swallowed down the drink that lando had ordered you awhile ago. you watched as they continued to talk and had an idea pop in your head, you couldn't lie carlos was looking really good right now.
so while rebecca left to use the restroom and lando went to get you another drink, you decided to tease him just a bit.
"how's your little date going?" he asked as he fixed a button on his shirt.
"not a date." you took your left heel off and began rubbing his leg with your foot.
carlos laid his eyes on and tried shaking your foot off. "don't start..."
after a few failed attempts of him trying to get you to stop, he finally let it go and your foot had finally landed on his crotch. "how's you're date going?"
you felt him getting hard and continued to rub on his clothed erection.
"c'mon let's get out of here, my hotel isn't that fa-"
before he could finish, lando was already on his way back with the drinks. you took your foot away from his erection and turned your attention to lando, “aw, you got my favorite!" you placed a kiss on his cheek and you heard carlos clear his throat.
once rebbeca came back, the four of you talked about different things until something from a distance caught your eye. "i'll see you guys in a bit, just have to say hi to someone..."
they both watched as you walked away and ended up at another booth with a boy who had on a shirt that was the same shade of pink as your dress, they saw as the boy kissed your cheek and you guys began talking — carlos knew who this guy was because he one time saw him comment under your page and he was just being nosy.
vinnie hacker.
ynspam
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vinniehacker oh yeah, i knew it :))
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ynspam i want everyone to know vincent posted this
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francisca.cgomes if you dont answer the phone right now!!!
ynspam im scared pierregasly you're in troubleee
carlos had shown up to your brand new house in los angeles a week earlier than expected, you had invited him to hangout for a few days the following week.
"carlitos! what are you doing here?" you smiled as he hugged you and placed a kiss on your lips.
you knew that little nickname drove him crazy.
he said it was surprise but the truth was he didn't want someone else hanging around you or your new house; someone else meaning vinnie or lando. you had been on his mind constantly, he felt like you were messing with his head.
“maybe you should stop seeing both of them...” his teeth pulled on the bottom of your lip. "just be with me." his fingers held onto your jaw as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
disconnecting your lips from his, you turned your face a bit "that wasn't part of our dea-" he had quickly began pulling down the little short you had on along with the thong you had, dragging his fingers through your folds. "fuck, what about reb-"
"theres nothing serious going on with her." he shrugged as his fingers pushed into your pussy. "c'mon hermosa, what do you say?"
since you had already took his boxers off, you had gotten on top of him and kissed his lips. "i'm all yours carlitos..."
you knew that carlos was very much into very rough sex with you so you were surprised when he went soft this time, it was actually really nice.
ynusername
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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, and 3,32,239 others
ynusername he said he'd leave me home next time. ⛳️
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f1wagupdates ahh screaminggg!!! 😍
username welp didnt expect this
username who is this man???
username he's a formula one driver username a smooth operator 🌶️
landonorris he should
ynusername 🤺 landonorris 🤺
username not you playing a sport!
username not us losing you to a man
carlossainz55 mi vida hermosa ❤️
ynusername 😚❤️
everything was going smoothly as you entered four months into your relationship, up until now when you guys finally had your first fight — carlos had taken you to meet his family for the week and let's just say you didn't get along with his mother.
"she's very beautiful carlos but that's not the type of girl you want to be seen with..." he remembered his mother telling him as he watched you play with his dogs in the backyard. "she's young carlos, why not find someone your age or finally rekindle your relationship with isa?"
"i think she's lovely..." his father said as he chewed on his food, earning him a glare from his mother. "she's beautiful, funny and i mean she sure knows how to cook a good meal."
the visit was about to be cut short when carlos had found you back in his room packing your bag. "she basically called me trashy carlos!"
he sighed and shook his head one. "she did not, my mother just said that it wasn't a very appropriate outfit to wear to dinner and you know i also told y-"
"well i'm twenty-one carlos, i'm not going to be dressing up like an old lady..."
the dress you had worn was just a tad bit too short but other than that nothing else was being revealed, carlos had no problem with the dress but he knew his mom probably wouldn't approve.
you had told him that you wanted to leave but he kept begging for you to just stay. "we have three more days left amor, please let's just stay..."
after a bit convincing he got you to stay and you tried to give it another shot but his mother was not cooperating with you and carlos had now seen it.
"it worked amor, she will be civil with you!"
you happily hugged him. "thank you! she's going to love me!"
"i know she will." he nodded and kissed the top of your head, you went on to say how you wanted to set up a breakfast for her in the morning but he quickly stoped you. "well just hold on to that idea, i have a surprise for you in the morning..."
ynusername
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ynusername too pretty to stay home 🏌🏻‍♀️
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username barbie who???
landonorris tell everyone how you hit me with the ball
ynusername stop spreading lies carlossainz55 at least she's getting better
carlossainz55 ❤️
francisca.cgomes my wife everyone!
ynusername love youuu pierregasly huh?? ynusername sorry, she's cheating on you
username y/n in her golfing era
carlos had invited lando golfing because he knew that the two of you got along pretty well considering what went on with the two of you in the past.
"glad it's not awkward since you know..." you joked as carlos wrapped an arm around you.
they both nodded. "the past is the past."
upon returning back to his parents's house, you were met with his family and isa sitting down at the dining table. "there they are! i invited isa to stay for dinner since you guys couldn't make it for breakfast..." his mother smiled at you and then back to carlos. "i did tell you about it last night, did you forget?"
you looked back at carlos who had a nervous smile on his face. "well um-"
"you've got to be kidding." you scoffed as you walked back into his room, packing whatever you could into your luggage once again.
he followed behind you and tried unpacking things. "amor por fav-"
"you lied to me carlos! you made me golf with lando while your ex was here having the time of her life with your parents." you took back the clothes form him and shoved them back in. "you had a totally different conversation with your mother than what you told me."
carlos sighed and wrapped and arm around you. "just please stay, one night and we will leave tomorrow morning..."
"so you want me to put on a smile and go sit with your ex girlfriend and my monster in law?" you threw one oh his shirts at his head but he caught it.
he sighed once again. "one night and we can work it out once we get out of here."
you groaned before nodding. "i will stay and we will leave in the morning but i will be going home, not to japan with you."
for the rest of dinner and the night you had been giving him the silent treatment and since the both of you rarely ever got into arguments, carlos wasn't sure how he was meant to fix things up with you.
he had two days to get you to come with him to japan and most importantly he had to get you to forgive him because he couldn't lose you.
carlos knew you different than any other girl he had ever been with in the past — yes you were a bit spoiled and sometimes a brat but he loved that about you, he cared so much about you and saw a real future with you.
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my f1 & f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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zombholic · 6 months
Text
BOXER ABBY HEADCANONS 18+ — abby anderson
— 🥊   ◦ ✺   🚩  ⟢ —
— She was really mean when you first met, like she was a big fat bully.
— She’s a hothead!! she gets angry over the smallest things it scares you at times.
— When you guys first met she was comphet, she thought you were the most stunning thing ever but she didn’t know that thinking about ramming her thick fingers into you wasn’t normal for a straight girl.
— You two were always butting heads but she wouldn’t dare lay a finger on your delicate self, she would definitely say very horrible things but never will she touch you like that.
— Slowly you guys started tolerating each other, a soft spot was growing between you guys.
— Boxer!Abby definitely has her nose pierced, she wears a silver hoop, majority of her ears are pierced but when she boxes she has to replace them with her plastic jewelry and puts tape on them.
— She wears dutch braids, she would kill someone if they touched her hair but slowly you were becoming the exception. You started braiding her hair for her, she sat with her knees up and her arms over them between your legs as you were on the couch probably watching a show you two unintentionally decided was gonna be YOUR GUYS show.
— She loves when you help her after a match, unwrapping her hands, taking out her braids, forcing her to shower.
— If she had cuts or bruises on her you were quick to make her sit on the toilet seat as you hovered over her telling her stop whining when something burned.
— After awhile you made the first move, you took her to chilis after she won a match and for some reason you just couldn’t keep your eyes off her.
— You kissed her in the car and confessed your feelings to her, she looked like a kid in a candy store, a big toothy smile as she kissed you repeatedly.
— Abby never had many people in her life that actually stayed so she was constantly on her toes that you would leave her and she couldn’t have that.
— She was a whole different person with you, you truly made her a better person.
NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW
— She loves when your arched on the bed with your ass up, she could fuck you for hours in this position.
— Abby has thick fingers and she loves that she can just curl them inside your cunt and it has you screaming her name.
— This girl has stamina, you would be out cold after two rounds and she’s trying to get you to last a couple more.
— She definitely will mock your moans and whines.
“Oh, is it too much baby? Too much for your little pussy to handle?”
— She has a skin colored strap, girthy with veins, a good 7.5inches.
— She loves having your legs around her shoulders with her cock deep inside you, your nails digging into her arms. God she fucking loves when you leave her in scars.
— 🥊   ◦ ✺   🚩  ⟢ —
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Note
Task 141 + König and Alejandro
I did request this earlier (and I apologize for spamming - but had to add some things!)
How the boys react to coming from a meeting or mission to reader being in lingerie waiting on their bed or room. 😏 If you’re comfortable - could you add smut? Would love to know how they’d react heheheh… Pure filth is also very much welcomed! 🫣
Ah yes! Thanks for this request. Feel free to spam away ;) As requested, this is pure trash with like zero plot🤣
141 + König & Alejandro With Reader Suprising Them With Lingiere
Warnings: pure filth, smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, swearing, spanking
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Simon was exhausted, the day was unbearably long, and he wanted nothing more than to come home to you.
Shuffling his feet through the door, he saw that all of the lights were off in the room, indicating you must've gone to bed early. He let out a small sigh, laying his stuff down on the floor, before making his way up to your bedroom.
When he caught sight of you, his cock instantly hardened in his pants. There you were, sprawled out on the bed in the nicest lingerie set he's ever seen. It was a red lacy set (his favorite color) and had a stunning matching garter. He walked toward you, his exhaustion now long forgotten. "Fucking look at you, sweetheart."
You bit your lip as you watched him approach, running your hand along your fabric covered heat. "You like? Thought I'd surprise you."
"Oh I fucking love, sweetheart." He quickly discarded his shirt, and crawled toward you on the bed. He sat and admired the set awhile longer, burning the image into his head, before he leaned down and placed an open mouth kiss to your clothed heat.
You let out a small whimper, your hands going to his head as he smirked. "You want my mouth, baby?"
You nodded feverishly and cried out when he pushed the fabric aside just enough to give his mouth access to your now soaked cunt.
He slipped his tongue between your folds and inhaled deeply. It never took long for him to get pussy drunk off you, as he buried his face into your core, lapping at your arousal like a starved man. His tongue stroked up and down your folds, making obscene noises as he went.
He looked up to you, and saw a euphoric sight. Your eyes were closed, face scrunched up slightly as you pawed at him. That, mixed with the sight of the lingerie on you had his brain working overtime, as he continued his assault on your cunt.
He added one of his slender fingers to your hole, and began to pump it in and out in rhythm with his tongue, which was now flicking wildly at your clit. You started to feel the coil in your belly tighten and dug your nails into his shoulder blades. He gave your clit a light nip, causing you to scream out as your orgasm tore through you.
He stayed between your thighs for some time, cleaning up your mess with a heavy sigh, his tongue stroking at your folds lazily.
When he got his fill, he pulled his head away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Removing his pants, he then moved up to you, grabbed the undersides of your thighs, and pushed your legs next to your head.
He gave you a small kiss before ramming himself into you, burying his cock completely within your walls. His hands gripped the head board above him, giving him a better angle to begin pounding into you at full force.
The way his cock stretched you out had you seeing stars. He was the biggest you'd ever been with, and my God did he know what he was doing with it. Each thrust of his hips had him burying himself to the hilt, hitting that sweet spot inside your walls every time.
He moved one of his hands to your thigh, hooking one of his fingers underneath the garter there and began to tug, his pace not relenting. Feeling himself growing close to his own release, his thrusts started to grow erratic as he chased his high. He gave another tug to the straps, as he felt his orgasm wash through him, stopping his movements when the straps tore in half in his hands.
You looked up at your boyfriend, a fucked out smile on your face. "You ruined my lingere."
Simon chuckled as he pulled out, breathing heavily. "I'll buy a new set for you, eh? Can't promise I won't ruin that one, too."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"Lass, have you seen my...oh my god." Johnny had come barging into your shared room, trying to find his phone when he caught sight of you. You were wearing a new set of pink lingerie that hugged you in all the right places. You turned from the mirror you were looking at, and gave Johnny a sultry smile.
"Phones right here, I was just filling up your camera roll." You handed him his phone, to which he threw to the bed beside him.
He grabbed your waist and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. "You look fucking divine, bonnie."
He threw you on the bed and nearly came in his pants as he got a better look of the set. "I need to fuck you in this, right now."
He tore off his shirt and leaned down to place soft kisses along your curves. You moaned at the contact, throwing your head back to the pillow behind you. Johnny could've stayed like this for hours, pressing kisses into your exposed flesh. You started to grow restless, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, flipping the two of you over, so now you were on top. You gave a sly smirk before placing your own kisses down his chiseled torso, stopping at his pants to rip them off in one stroke.
Putting your legs on either side of his waist, you slowly made your way up to his cock, grinding yourself on his member. He let out a small whimper as his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs. "Please, please fuck me, wanna watch you get off in that outfit."
You whined at his words but did as he asked. You pulled the soaked fabric aside, and slid yourself down onto his cock. The two of you cried out at the contact, and Soap's hands were now bruising your thighs from how hard he was gripping. "So fucking tight."
You started to circle your hips slowly, watching as Johnny struggled to keep his eyes open. His hands moved from your thighs to grasp at your covered tits, palming at the material roughly.
You moaned at the contact as you started to bounce up and down on his cock. Johnny began babbling, you felt so good around him that his eyes were begging to be closed, but he wanted to watch you fuck him in that set so badly.
You raked your nails down his chest and watched as red streaks began to litter his skin in its wake. You picked up your pace, now bouncing wildly on him, and started to feel your orgasm approaching. It never took you long to cum with Johnny, something you were beyond thankful for.
Leaning backward slightly, you laid your hands on his thighs behind you and continued your movements, as sweat started to form on your brow. Johnny nearly drooled at the sight before him, you looked so fucking good on top of him, taking him as well as you were.
"Fuck, lass I'm so close. Please don't stop." Johnny begged as he squeezed at your hips.
You gave a low moan as your movements started to grow sloppy and desperate. With one final motion of your hips, your orgasm coarsed through you, as your walls clenched down on Johnny, triggering his own release.
You collapsed down onto him, in a sweaty mess, as his hands came up to stroke your back softly. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, before he looked up at you with a smile.
"May I request a photo of my own?" He asked, before grabbing the phone next to your bed. "Just a little one, for whenever I'm on the road."
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John Price-
"Love? You almost ready to go?" You heard your husband's voice call from outside your shared room.
"Yeah, in a minute. Can you come help me with my buttons?" You asked, a mischievous smile working its way to your face. You and Price were to go and see a movie together with some friends, but you had other plans.
He made his way into your room, stopping abruptly in the doorway when his eyes fell on your figure on the bed. "Bloody hell, what's that you got on there?"
"It's a present." You bit your lip and started to massage at the fabric covering your tits. You were wearing a new green lingere set you'd just recently bought at the mall, and it fit your figure perfectly. Price felt his cock hardening in his pants at the sight of you.
John moved to remove his belt, his eyes never leaving your form. "That so?"
"Does daddy like?" You asked, licking your lips in anticipation. John came over once he'd undressed himself, and dragged you to the end of the bed.
"You're about to find out." He promised, turning you over so your ass was facing him. He bent down for just a moment, to bite into the flesh of your ass cheek, before smoothing it over with his hand.
You cried out and lurched forward, causing your ass to stick higher up in the air. Price chuckled to himself and let his hands palm at the flesh of your ass.
He rubbed the tip of his cock at your sopping folds, before pushing himself into you. The grip he had on your hip was brusing, as he begun to slam his cock into you at a brutal base, not giving you a moment to adjust.
Your fingers gripped the sheets in front of you, desperately trying to ground yourself. You cried out a soft whine as Price landed a slap to your ass. "S-So good, daddy. So good."
"That's fucking right princess. You look so good in this, couldn't help myself." He cooed, moving his hands to your hair for a makeshift ponytail, tugging it back toward him with a firm grip.
You felt his thrusts start to grow languid, as he neared his high. You knew what would help him get off faster, so you started to push your hips back in time with his thrusts. Price groaned loudly as his grip on your hair tightened. "Fuck baby girl that's it, I'm so close."
After a few final lazy thrusts, you felt your lover's cock twitch inside of you, covering your walls with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly once he'd caught his breath and pressed a gentle kiss on your back.
"Since you were such a good girl for me, why don't you roll on your back and spread your legs. Let Daddy take care of you."
"But we have plans for the movies, babe." You teased, running your hand along your abdomen.
"Fuck the movies."
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König-
"Hey, Ko, can you come here? I wanted to show you something." You called out, admiring your form in the mirror before you. You'd just bought a new lingiere set at the store and were excited to show your boyfriend. It was a blue sheer set, leaving little to the imagination.
König made his way to your room before nearly fainting at the sight of you. He stood dumbfounded for a moment as drool started to pool in his mouth. He was left speechless and hardly knew what to say.
He shook his head and started walking toward you, effectively backing you up against the wall behind you. "You look so fucking divine, Maus."
He put his hands on either side of your head and let his eyes rake down your figure. He felt his cock harden almost painfully in his trousers and moved forward to grind himself against you.
He lifted you up in one motion, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He pressed a bruising kiss to your mouth, swiping his tongue against yours. You moved your hands to the waist band of his pants, undoing his belt and pushing down his garments, leaving him bare to you.
You were quick to line his hard member up with your entrance, and sank down onto him, your walls hugging his length in a vice like grip.
He grunted out loudly into your mouth, as your kiss became more heated, a clash of tongue and teeth. He bucked his hips up into you, fucking you senseless.
You gasped out, grapping onto his shoulders for support as he fucked up into you. "Fuck, Kö. You feel so good."
König grunted in response, as let his eyes rake down your body once more, landing in between your bodies watching your pussy swallowing him whole.
You raked your nails along his back as he picked up his pace, your other hand flying in his sweaty hair to steady yourself. The sounds emitting from your lover are what drew you closer to your release. He was whimpering softly, soft german curse words escaping his lips. It never took much to make this man putty in your hands.
He continued to buck his hips up into you, as one of his hands made in way in between you two, and his calloused fingers started to circle your clit, rubbing at the soft bundle of nerves with vigor.
You cried out, throwing your head back onto the wall behind you, your legs tightening their hold around your lover's midsection. His pace didn't relent, and your orgasm rapidly took over you, as you clenched your soaked walls around his cock.
König groaned, still desperately chasing his high with his rapid thrusts, before his own orgasm tore through him. His cock pulsed inside you, painting your walls white with his seed.
The two of you pulled away breathless, and König looked at you, admiration in his eyes. "You look so damn good, Schatz. Can I have another?"
And who were you to say no? Not when he asked so nicely.
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Alejandro-
"Fuck me, te ves jodidamente increíble." (you look fucking incredible) Alejandro breathed out, as his eyes landed on you, sitting at the edge of your bed in the new set of lingierie you had.
"You think, baby? Didn't know if you'd like it." You teased, flopping on your back and spreading your legs to reveal more of the set to your lover.
"Surely, you're joking. It makes you look delicious, hermosa." A smirk formed on his lips as he let his eyes rake over your body. "Let me show you, yeah?"
You nodded your head slowly as he climbed over you, capturing your lips in a firey kiss. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, then moved to bite at the flesh softly.
He laid down on top of you, gently putting his hand under your back to slide you up to the pillow. He pressed loving kisses along your jaw, trailing to your collarbone as he hovered over you. "Eres magnifica, hermosa."
You gave a content sigh at the affection and moved your hands to the hem of his shirt. "May I?"
He gave a soft chuckle and lifted himself off you, just long enough to remove all his garments. He returned his lips to your neck, sucking at the flesh there, leaving small bruises along your skin.
He moved his hand to your core, inserting his finger into you at a slow pace. You moaned, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you. "Ready for me, my sweet girl?"
You nodded your head with a small smile, and he came to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nuzzling his face in your neck, he slowly pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls squeezed around him.
He started moving at a languid pace, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping his length. You moaned as he returned his mouth to your skin, now creating small love bites in the flesh of your shoulder blades.
Alejandro was a passionate lover, never too rough, but never too soft either. He always knew the perfect ways to make you come undone beneath him.
He captured your lips in his once more and sped up his thrusts, pounding into you feverishly. You felt the coil in your belly tighten as your orgasm rapidly approached, your fingers digging crescent marks into your lover's back.
Alejandro let out a small grunt, and his thrusts started to become sloppy as he neared his own release. The coil in your belly snapped, causing you to arch your back up into Alejandro, your tight walls convulsing against his cock. He let out a strangled moan as he was pushed to the edge. He slowly continued to push in and out of your core, allowing you to milk his cock for everything he had, before collapsing on the bed beside you.
"You are so good to me, mi amor. I love you." He declared softly, as he placed a delicate kiss to your sweaty brow.
Now, knowing how your boyfriend reacted to lingerie, you made it a point to wear it around him more often.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I'm so sorry for this🥹😭
Update: I just realized I'm a turd and completely forgot to add Gaz, I will update this shortly🫣😅
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codtrashsammy · 4 days
Text
Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he��s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
523 notes · View notes