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#for always being there when i come yell at you about things that get me excited and for allowing me to be there when you come yelling at me
coco-loco-nut · 2 days
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Iconic
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life
masterlist
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“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.
“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.
“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.
“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.
“How so?”
“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.
“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.
“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.
“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.
“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.
“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.
“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.
“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.
“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.
“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.
“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.
“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.
“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.
“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.
“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.
“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.
“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.
“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.
“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.
“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.
“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.
“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.
“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.
“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.
“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.
“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.
Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.
“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.
“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.
“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.
“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.
“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.
“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.
“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.
“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.
“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.
“Hey,” he groans at the jab.
“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.
“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.
“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”
“Who said I’d marry you at all?”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.
“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.
“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.
“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.
“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I love you too.”
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turcott3 · 2 days
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First of all thank you for the Rempe content
Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:
You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game
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kisses
matt rempe x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses
masterlist
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“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.
“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.
“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.
“what?” he shrugs.
“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.
“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.
“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.
“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.
“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.
“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.
“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.
“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.
“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.
“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.
“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs
“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”
“touché”
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“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.
“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.
“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.
“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.
“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.
“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.
“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.
“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.
“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.
“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.
“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.
“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.
“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.
-
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loomiseater · 2 days
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Pissed (no this does NOT have any pee kinks)
warnings: smut ofc!, fem reader!, mean and toxic Rafe, dub con, Dacryphilia, choking, and, p in v. Let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: I’ve written fics before but it’s only for my notes, so this is the first fic I’ve written that’s being published. Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing. Would you believe this took me an hour to write?
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This definitely isn’t repost worthy 😭 but if you do please give creds. @Loomiseater (Tumblr).
Written: April 21, 2024
Published: April 21, 2024
Summary: Rafe is pissed that you were hanging out with the Pouges. 
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“I go on vacation for a week! One fucking week! just to find out you were hanging out with those pouges?!” You could hear Rafe’s voice echoing from downstairs along with the door slamming. His footsteps were starting to get louder as he ran up the stairs angrily. 
You cover your face with the bed sheets to pretend like you’re asleep. The doorknob twists as Rafe comes rushing into the bedroom like a maniac. “Get up! I know you’re not sleep” He announced while yanking the sheets off of you. “I know you heard what I said downstairs!” He shouted. “Why are you so pissed that I wanted to hang out with my friends?” You say softly. When Rafe is angry, it’s best to speak to him in a calm, gentle voice so you don’t piss him off even more.
“Why am I so pissed?” He repeatedly uttered to himself like he heard the most unbelievable thing ever. You got up off the bed to try and calm him down but he pushed you right back down. “This is what I get for trying to fix a broke bitch” He said in a chuckle to himself. Your heart shattered at his words. Rafe has always been mean during arguments or when he’s upset but he’s never spoke this ill of you.
“Are you serious?” You asked as tears began to appear in your eyes. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” He started off with a pointed finger. “I buy this big house for not only me but you too, I give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work, AND I took your ass out the Cut!” He yelled. It’s like his voice gets louder each time. “And this is how you repay me? Hm?” He questioned as his face got closer to yours. 
You tried your best not to cry but the tears started flowing and the sobs got louder. His hand wrapped around your neck and the oxygen for you was running out. “You are MY wife, understand?” Rafe questioned as you nodded your head. You tried to move his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip. 
“I only do this because you’re not safe when hanging around Pouges” he explained as his eyes softened while moving some hair out of your face. Your chest was starting to hurt from all the pressure Rafe was putting on your neck. “P-please, let me go” the words struggled to come out of your mouth and Rafe finally released his hand from your neck. Nothing but choked sobs could come out as Rafe immediately apologized.
His face was filled with nothing but regret…this was the first time you’ve ever seen Rafe genuinely sorry. “I’m so sorry baby!” he expressed while moving his forehead against yours. “It’s okay” you say that but you didn’t really mean it. Deep down you’re terrified of Rafe. You know what he’s capable of. What he can do to you and get away with it.
“I just got into argument with my dad and- I took my anger out all on you” he explained anxiously. “No, really Rafe- like I said, I’m fine” you said while wiping the tears that were still falling.
“Y/n, don’t lie to me!” He said sternly as you jump a bit. He noticed this action and gently grabbed your hands. “Let me make it up to you” Rafe says while placing kisses down your neck. You weren’t really in the mood after what just happened. “Rafe. No” you say, unsure what’s about to happen next.
“Shut up, I’m making it up to you” he said while pushing you down on your back and leaving trails of kisses down your neck. It was like he didn’t care, but it’s always been like this. What Rafe wants, Rafe gets. He started places kisses to your exposed chest, you were in nothing but a bra and shorts. 
You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to do this but your body was telling you something else. The tension was thick between you and Rafe and your body was heating up. Your bra was being unclipped, he then threw it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He gently grabbed one of your breasts and started sucking on your nipple softly while looking you in the eye. You didn’t break eye contact with him, it was turning you on even more. Soft moans flew from your mouth as Rafe kept sucking.
“P-please” You choked out as Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, huh?” He replied with that stupid smirk he always has. He slowly slid off your shorts and felt you. “All that resisting just for me to feel how wet you are” he laughed. He was right, after what he did to you, you were somehow soaked.
Rafe flipped you onto your stomach and left a hard smack to your ass. You hissed at how hard the slap was and it’s like he somehow got even harder. His dick was straining under the sweats he had on as he was pressing against your ass. You could feel kisses being placed on along your back along with a groan Rafe let out. He began take his clothes off and get on his knees behind you as you felt him shove himself in. It caught you off guard, resulting in you letting out a loud moan.
“Shit you’re so tight!” He expressed as he through his head back. He didn’t even wait for you to adjust, he began thrusting inside you like a mad man. The room was filled with nothing but the squelching sound from your pussy and grunts from Rafe’s mouth. “Fuck!” You muttered to yourself. You didn’t want to giveaway how much you were enjoying this but you're pretty sure your wetness spoke for itself. 
He pulled out and slammed back into you as you tightly grabbed the sheets beneath you. The familiar feeling was rising in your stomach. Rafe grabbed your hair and made sure your back was fleshed between his chest as he spoke into your ear. “Pussy so good, make me wanna put a baby in you” he grunted as you came all over his dick from just his words but that didn’t stop him. That was probably the loudest moan you’ve ever let out. 
“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shout as tears flow from your eyes from the overstimulation. Rafe looked down at the mess you made on his dick and it made him whine, almost cumming at the sight in front of him. He pulled out and turn you back on your back. With no warning he put your legs on his shoulders and began thrusting. “Rafe!” You moaned as he was sliding in and out of you. Yours nails deeply scratched his back which led him to slower his thrusts. 
“Your so perfect” He said lowly. Nothing could come out from you except for sobs. “It’s too much Rafe!” You whined from all the stimulation. "You look so pretty when cry" And when Rafe saw you crying he let out a groan while cumming inside you. He began kissing you and rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking. It’s like he knew the exact moment you would finish. He pulled out as you squirted, letting his dick get covered in it while he began to thrust himself in his hand. This time, painting your thighs white.
“You did so good, baby” He says while placing a kiss to your forehead. You passed out on the pillow from your recent activity as Rafe got from off the bed and cleaned you with a wet hand towel.
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 11 hours
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When will you post the y/n Meeks Martin x Ethan Landry post 😭
Right fucking now lmao.
This is my first post in a while, take it easy on me 💕
Secrets - Ethan Landry x Fem!Meeks-Martin!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: Growing up with overprotective siblings has made it difficult for you to find someone to be with, until you meet your brother's nerdy best friend.
Contains: Fluff, Angst, Some violence-ish, Oral - f receiving, riding, p in v, teasing. (If I missed something, let me know:)
A/N: If any of yall are familiar with Spongebob, I have the fucking suds and I'll be writing a lot the next few days lmao
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Your brother and sister were so protective of you. After some of the things they’d been through, you couldn’t really blame them, and you were thankful that they were always looking out for you. The only downside? They seemed to hate every person that asked you out or showed interest in you. You were sure that you would be single forever if it was up to them, because they didn’t think anyone was good enough for you.
Once they went away to New York for school, you missed them, but with there only being a one-year age difference, you knew you wouldn’t have to wait long before you’d be heading to Blackmore. You took the opportunity to finally put yourself out there and go on dates without the twins interfering, and you were starting to realize how right they were when they told you that the guys in Woodsboro weren’t really worth your time.
When you FaceTimed Chad to let him know that you got accepted into the same university as him and Mindy, he was beaming at the news. He was going on and on about all the things he loved about New York, and wouldn’t shut up about the pizza, but you tuned out everything he was saying once you noticed his roommate in the background. His hot roommate.
“Dude, my sister got in!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes. He seemed more excited than you were about the whole situation. “Ethan, come say hi.”
“Fine,” he huffed, as Chad passed him his phone. He paused for a second once he saw you, but quickly pulled it together. It was awkward enough to meet someone for the first time on a phone screen, and he didn’t want to make it any weirder. “Hey, I’m Ethan.”
“Ah, the dorky roommate,” you said, as Ethan looked away from you to glare at Chad.
“Is that how you tell people about me? You say that I’m dorky?”
“If the shoe fits…” Chad trailed off before he tried to take his phone back from Ethan.
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, passing the phone back to your brother.
“Have you told Mindy yet?” Chad questioned, a smirk on his face as he waited for your answer.
“No…”
“I knew I was your favorite!”
Once Chad and Mindy came home for summer break, they wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were to take you back to New York with them. They were heading back early to help Chad move into his own apartment with Ethan, and Mindy was moving into the spare bedroom at Tara’s with Anika. They decided that you needed to come with them, even though you wouldn’t be able to move into your dorm for a couple weeks.
“I’m not thrilled about couch surfing,” you said, as Chad rolled his eyes.
“I’d sleep on the couch. You could sleep in my bed.”
“So, she’s staying with you for two weeks? I thought she’d stay at Tara’s,” Mindy said, “What happens when you want to stay over with Tara and she’s left alone with Ethan?”
“Oh, please. Ethan won’t try anything,” Chad said, as Mindy scoffed. “What?”
“What makes you think Ethan wouldn’t try something?”
“Because he’s my boy. He knows she’s off limits…I already told him,” Chad said, as you sighed in frustration.
“You know what? I’m not doing this whole ‘You can’t date so and so’ shit that I’ve dealt with for years,” you said, as Mindy cocked her eyebrow at you.
“You’re staying at Tara’s,” she said, “You’ve gotten a little feisty lately. It wouldn’t surprise me if you tried to get with Ethan just because we said you can’t.”
“No, I’m staying with Chad. It’ll be fine. Ethan doesn’t seem like the type to try anything,” you said, as she had a confused look on her face.
“When have you talked to Ethan?”
“Oh, that was when she called me first to let me know she got into Blackmore,” Chad smirked, as Mindy snapped her head in his direction.
“No, she called me first.”
They turned to look at you, “Who did you call first?” they both asked at the same time, as you shrugged.
“I’ll never tell.”
When you made it to New York, you were exhausted. You couldn’t sleep on the five-hour flight, and the jet lag was really starting to get to you as you went to the baggage claim area to get your stuff.
“When’s your furniture getting delivered?” Mindy asked, as Chad checked his phone.
“Soon. Ethan’s here somewhere,” Chad said, glancing around for his friend that was taking you back to your new home for the next two weeks.
“I think that’s him,” you said, pointing to the guy with the huge sign that said ‘Meeks-Martin’. “Is he always that lame?”
“Yeah, poor dude can’t get a girlfriend to save his life because he’s that cheesy,” Chad said, as he walked over and took the sign from him. “We’re just going to put this in the trash.”
“Hey, it took me two minutes to make that,” Ethan said, as he glanced over to you. He noticed you struggling with your luggage and carryon. “Can I help you with that?”
“I got it,” Mindy said, grabbing the large suitcase from you. She stared Ethan down for a second before she walked past him.
“How do you deal with them?” Ethan asked, as you sleepily smiled at him.
“They’re not that bad.”
As Ethan drove, Mindy was in the backseat arguing with Chad as he sat in the passenger seat about how you staying at Tara’s would be best. You sighed as they bickered, before you noticed that Ethan kept glancing back at you in the rear-view mirror. You thought he was even more attractive in person and thought about how hard the next couple weeks could potentially be with him living in the same apartment as you.
“Seriously, how are you going to feel when those losers leave the toilet seat up all the time?” Mindy questioned, as Chad scoffed.
“I think we’re housebroken,” Ethan spoke up for the first time in the drive as he glanced back at Mindy. He quickly looked away once he noticed her glaring at him.
“Listen, Landry. I know I won’t be able to convince her, so I want to make it perfectly clear that if you touch my sister, I will kill you.”
“What makes you guys think that I’m like that?” Ethan asked, the annoyance in his tone obvious.
“They think anyone’s like that when it comes to me,” you said, smiling at him as his eyes met yours in the mirror again.
You made it to Chad and Ethan’s apartment seconds after the furniture delivery truck pulled in. Once they opened the back of the truck, Mindy’s jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe mom paid for all this stuff,” she said, as Chad sighed.
“She didn’t. Ethan and I took out loans.”
“Maybe you should’ve asked mom. She paid for all my bedroom stuff,” Mindy shrugged, as Chad sighed.
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
After the stuff for the apartment was scattered in various areas of the house, Mindy got the text that Anika was at Tara’s, and was wondering when she’d be over.
“You staying here, or coming with me?” Mindy asked but cut you off before you could even respond. “You’re coming with me.”
“No, she can hang out here if she wants to. We’re all going out for pizza later tonight, anyway,” Chad said, as Mindy rolled her eyes.
“Are you two going to argue like this until I move into my dorm?” you questioned, as the twins exchanged their glances.
“Probably.”
“I’ll hang out here,” you said, as Mindy nodded.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Later that evening after you’d helped the two boys set up their new apartment, you were starting to get hungry. Chad wanted to keep working, and you eventually flopped onto the couch, sighing in defeat.
“I’m starving,” you whined, as Ethan walked into the living room and sat down on the free cushion beside where your feet were resting.
“Me too,” Ethan said, matching your whining as Chad glared at the two of you. “What? It’s been a long day. We skipped lunch.”
“We’ll leave soon,” Chad said, as you got an idea in your head.
“Orrr you could meet us there,” you suggested. “You know how I get if I don’t eat.”
“True,” Chad sighed, “Ethan, make sure nothing happens to her.”
“I won’t let her out of my sight.”
As you walked beside Ethan, he started to make small talk. By the time you made it to the restaurant, you were in a full-blown conversation about all the interests you both had, and he was proud of himself that he didn’t get nervous when he talked to you. You scanned the restaurant for your sister and Tara, but once you noticed they weren’t there yet, you and Ethan sat at one of the tables.
“Do you want to eat now, or wait?” he asked, looking at you from across the table.
“We can eat now, I’m so hungry.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
While you and Ethan ate the pizza that Chad hyped up so much, you were surprised at how good it was. You kept talking to Ethan, but you soon realized how much time had passed, and no one else had showed up to the restaurant.
“Where do you think they are?” you asked, as Ethan sighed.
“Okay, don’t hate me,” he said, as you curiously stared at him. “I kind of wanted to get to know you without your brother and sister making it seem like I was trying to get into your pants.”
“That’s really sweet,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “But if they aren’t here, where are they?”
“They probably went to the one on campus.”
“Did you trick me into going to dinner with you?” you joked, as he started to blush.
“I’ll be honest, I thought they would’ve come to hunt you down by now.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, Chad, Mindy, Tara, and who you assumed to be Anika walked in. Chad sighed in relief once he saw you, but Mindy just looked pissed.
“You know how many pizzerias we stopped at to look for you?” she questioned before she looked at Ethan. “Why did you bring her to this one?”
“Simple mistake,” he shrugged, as Mindy stared him down.
“Simple mistake, my ass. I told you Ethan would try something with her.”
“It’s just pizza!” you snapped, “Last time I checked, we weren’t fucking.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped at your words as the waitress brought the check to the table. Ethan took it from her, his mouth still hanging open as he looked at you.
“You want to split it?” you asked, as he shook his head.
“I got it.”
“We’re going back to Tara’s,” Chad said, as you stood up from the table to hug her.
“Hey,” you said, before you turned to Anika. “It’s nice to meet you. Mindy wouldn’t shut up about you all summer.”
“Aww, babe,” she said, pulling Mindy into a side hug.
“Look, as much as I’d love to hang out with you guys, I’m exhausted,” you said, yawning as Chad sighed.
“I really wanted to hang out with Tara.”
“I’ll walk her home,” Ethan suggested, as Mindy, once again, glared at him. “I can drop her off and go to Tara’s after.”
“No, I don’t want her left alone in an area that she doesn’t know,” Chad said, as you rolled your eyes.
“I can stay there with her, then. Seriously, I won’t try anything,” Ethan said, putting his hands up in defeat as Chad nodded.
“I know you won’t, dude. Thanks.”
As you and Ethan made your way out of the restaurant, you heard Mindy scold Chad for being so trusting. But Chad felt like he had no reason to think Ethan would do anything to betray his trust.
Once you got back to the apartment, you were tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. Ethan was about to head to his room before you stopped him.
“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“I thought you were exhausted?” he asked, as he turned around and made his way towards you.
“I just didn’t feel like going with them and being there all night,” you sighed, as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Why are you sitting over there?”
“Because if Chad comes home and sees me sitting beside you, I’m sure I’ll be moving out of here into an unmarked grave,” he said, half-joking as you rolled your eyes.
“Please. If it was Mindy, yeah. But Chad, I don’t think so.”
“Whatever you say,” he said, scooting closer to you as he turned on the tv. “You cool with something scary?”
“Mindy’s my sister, what do you think?”
“Scary it is.”
Ethan thought that after sitting through some of the goriest movies ever with the Twins, there was no way that you’d be freaking out over some jump scares. But once you were practically in his lap, your face hiding behind your hands as the scene played out on the screen, he started to laugh to himself.
“What?” you asked, looking up at him. That’s when you realized that you were practically on top of him and went to move, but his arm wrapped around you to hold you in place.
“Your brother and sister don’t get phased by this shit,” he said, smiling down at you. He started to glance between your eyes and your lips, and he was so close to making a move, when a loud shriek on the screen pulled your attention away from him.
“This is one of the few I haven’t seen,” you shrugged, “I wouldn’t be so jumpy if you picked something I had seen before.”
“I don’t think I believe you,” Ethan chuckled, as you turned your head to look at him again.
“If you want to kiss me, you should probably do it soon. The movie’s almost over,” you said, as he smiled and leaned down.
When his lips touched yours, you felt something different than what you’d usually feel when you’d kiss someone. You immediately felt the chemistry, and with the way his lips were quickly moving with yours, you were sure that he felt it, too.
Once he pulled away to catch his breath, he had a sweet smile on his lips. He definitely didn’t expect to kiss his best friend’s sister, but he was happy that you were bold enough to tell him it was okay. Another thing he didn’t expect was for you to adjust yourself so you were straddling him, as his eyes looked into yours. His hands moved to rest on your thighs as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, it was way more intense. Your hands were in his hair as his hands rested on the curve of your ass to keep you as close as he could.
The second the kiss got deeper, you heard the sound of a key going into the front door.
“Shit,” you said, pulling away and jumping off the couch.
“Wait,” Ethan said, as he followed you. He pulled you in for one more quick kiss before you rushed into Chad’s room and shut the door.
When Ethan walked back out, Chad had just made it to the living room.
“Where were you?” Chad questioned, as Ethan glared at him.
“My room is beside yours. I wasn’t trying anything with your sleeping sister,” Ethan scoffed, as Chad nodded.
“Sorry, dude. I had to listen to Mindy talk about how much she hated the idea of the two of you being here alone.”
“It’s cool, just don’t accuse me of shit you know I wouldn’t do.”
Ethan felt a little guilty for lying to Chad, but you were the first girl that he’d actually felt something for in a long time. After days of stealing quick kisses and steamy make-out sessions whenever Chad was in the shower, the sexual frustration was starting to build. Ethan knew that he wasn’t going to initiate it, because the last thing he wanted was for you to think that was the reason he was spending time with you. Plus, you hadn’t been left alone long enough since the first night.
“So, I think Tara and I are going to a movie tonight. You guys want to come?” Chad asked, as Ethan looked over to you as you sat on the opposite end of the couch.
“I’m not really in the mood to watch a movie,” you said, as Chad cocked his eyebrow at you.
“You don’t want to watch a movie?” he questioned, as you shook your head. “What about you, Ethan?”
“Dude, spend time with your girlfriend. I’m sure she doesn’t want a third wheel tagging along.”
“Mindy and Anika are going, too. You wouldn’t be a third wheel,” Chad said, as Ethan chuckled.
“Your right, I’d be a fifth wheel. You guys have fun. I’ll probably just play video games all night anyway.”
“Okay, I should be back around eleven,” Chad said, as he made his way towards the apartment door.
As soon as he left, Ethan was on you, literally. You moved so you were laying back as he hovered over you, his mouth moving with yours as your legs wrapped around him.
“Hey, do you want to go to your room?” you asked once he pulled away to breathe.
“You sure?”
“Mhm.”
Within seconds, his feet met the floor, and his hands reached for yours to pull you up. He led you down the hallway to his room, before his lips connected with yours again. He backed you towards the bed, a small squeal slipping past your lips against his as your back hit the comforter. Your legs wrapped around him again, holding him as close to you as you could. One of his hands was running up your side over your shirt, until the material started to ride up. He gave you goosebumps as his fingers moved over the newly exposed flesh, before he pulled away to look at you.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, “Because if you just want to make out, that’s fine. There’s no pressure, and I don’t want you to think that I just want sex.”
”I know you don’t,” you said, smiling at him. “But if the sexual tension get’s any stronger between us and we don’t do something about it, I might actually explode.”
“So, you want sex,” he said, trying his best to not freak out.
“Yeah,” you said, as he leaned back down.
It didn’t take long for his hips to start moving, the hard cock in his sweatpants brushing against you. You gasped into the kiss every time your clit got the smallest amount of friction, before his hand moved in between your bodies so he could rub you over the shorts you were wearing.
“Fuck,” you mumbled against his lips. “You can take those off me, if you want.”
He quickly slid them down your hips before his hand went back in between your legs, rubbing across your soaked panties.
“You’re so wet,” he groaned, “Does kissing me do this to you?”
“Yes,” you said, as his lips moved to your neck.
Your bottom lip was in between your teeth as he slid your panties to the side, his finger rubbing slow circles over your clit.
“We’re here alone, baby. Don’t hold those pretty sounds in.”
Soft whimpers were slipping past your lips as his finger moved faster against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy was already drenched, and you felt yourself getting more wet by the second. You whined in protest once he pulled away, but he quickly shut you up, a low moan falling out of your mouth when he easily slid two of his fingers inside you as he moved down the bed.
Your hands tangled in his hair the second his tongue touched your clit, his fingers hitting that special spot inside you. Your hips were involuntarily arching off the bed at the feeling as he struggled to keep you pinned down.
“So good,” you moaned, as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “Fuck.”
Once he started to hum with your clit in his mouth, you felt the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Your moans kept getting higher and louder, and he made the mental note that he really couldn’t sneak around with you like this if Chad happened to be home, because you were just so loud. He loved it, though. All the noised you were making went straight to his throbbing cock as he brought you closer to the edge. Once your pussy started to squeeze his fingers, he sucked harder on your clit, the feeling throwing you into an intense orgasm. He groaned as your shaky hands tugged on his hair, his fingers slowing as he got you through it.
Once you started to relax, he sat up to look at you as he slowly slid his fingers out. Your cheeks were rosy, your chest was heaving, and you were still a little shaky. He loved that he had that effect on you and couldn’t wait to actually be inside of you.
“Let me help you with your shirt,” he said, as you sat up and looked at him, your eyes still hazy.
“That felt so good,” you finally said, as he chuckled.
“I hope so with how hard you were pulling my hair.”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly as he shook his head.
“Don’t be sorry, I loved it.”
Once he got you out of your shirt and bra, and he slid his sweatpants down his hips, he walked over to the bedside table to grab a condom.
“You still want to do this, right?” he asked, as you smiled at him.
“Yeah.”
He slid his boxers down his thighs before he rolled the condom on and lined up with your soaked pussy. He took his time as he inched his way inside of you, a loud moan falling past your lips once he was all the way in.
“So fucking tight,” he rushed out, before he started with slow thrusts. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you moaned, your hands reaching up to squeeze your breasts as he started to go faster.
You knew you were wet, but you could hear how wet you actually were as his cock slid in and out of your pussy. His eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to miss any of the faces you were making.
“Can I be on top?” you asked, as he smirked at you.
“Yeah, babe,” he said, as he pulled out and laid down.
You got up and moved to straddle him, the whimpers flooding out of your mouth as you sank down onto him.
Ethan felt like he was in heaven as his hands held onto your hips. He had the perfect view of your face, your tits, and he could even see his cock sliding in and out of you. Your hands moved to rest against his chest so you could stabilize yourself as you rolled your hips, the tip of his cock giving your g-spot the attention it needed.
“Come here,” he said, as you leaned down, your bare chest pressing against his. You felt his hands snake around you to hold you close before his hips started to move, his cock thrusting in and out of you so quick that you couldn’t think straight. He was letting out soft grunts that could barely be heard over your moans. You were both getting sweaty as you clung to him, his pace not letting up as you felt yourself start to get close.
“Fuck, Ethan,” you whined, as you felt that white-hot feeling spreading across your body, your hands gripping him as he just kept fucking up into you.
“I’m almost there, baby.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but he went even faster. You were a moaning mess as he kept slamming his cock into you, before his thrusts got erratic.
“Cumming,” he groaned, as you slowly moved back to meet his thrusts as he got himself through it. “Fuck, that was…fuck.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled against his chest.
He slid out of you but held you close for a few minutes, his hands rubbing over your back as you both caught your breath.
That’s when you heard other voices inside the apartment. You shot up, your eyes looking down to meet Ethan’s panicked ones.
“Where are they?” Mindy asked, the annoyance in her tone obvious as you and Ethan jumped up to grab your clothes off the floor.
Ethan quickly took the condom off and slid his boxers on as you tried to put your clothes back on. It was too late, though, once his bedroom door eased open.
“Hey, dude,” Chad said, before closing the door once he noticed Ethan was just in his boxers. “Shit, sorry.”
Chad was embarrassed as he turned to look at Mindy before he realized something. Your shorts were on Ethan’s bedroom floor.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Chad’s voice boomed once he opened the door. This time he was able to see you, but you’d just slid your shorts back up over your hips. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He walked over to Ethan and grabbed him by the shirt he was able to put on in those few seconds, and you could see the fear in Ethan’s eyes as he looked over to you.
“Don’t fucking look at her!” Chad yelled, as Mindy finally walked into the room.
“Told you her staying here was a mistake,” she said, as Chad got angrier by the second.
“I didn’t think that my best friend couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“Stop, seriously. You guys are making this more than it needs to be,” you said, as Chad looked over to you. “Calm down, Chad. He’s your best friend.”
“Last time I checked, friends don’t sleep with their friend’s sister!” he yelled, before he looked back at Ethan. “I can’t fucking believe you did this.”
“Why are you acting like I had no part in this?” you asked, as Mindy scoffed.
“Yeah, right. I’m sure Ethan charmed you out of your panties just to get what he wanted.”
“That’s not true!” Ethan snapped, his fear of Chad kicking his ass turning to anger as his friend finally let go of his shirt. “I really like her. This has nothing to do with me just wanting to sleep with her.”
“She’s my baby sister, Ethan!”
“Stop calling me that,” you sighed in frustration. “I’m a year younger than you. I’m a legal adult. Nothing Ethan and I did is wrong aside from you two saying that he needed to keep his distance from me.”
“He obviously doesn’t listen,” Mindy said, as you felt yourself start to get mad.
“You know what really fucking sucks? You two are my best friends, but you won’t let me live. You won’t let me experience things. You know Ethan’s not a bad person…you know how bad I’ve wanted to hang out with him and get to know him better, but you guys won’t let that happen.” you ranted, “I like him, too. And if I want to be with him, you aren’t going to tell me that I can’t! You better not threaten him anymore, either. I’m sick of this childish shit.”
Your sibling stared at you as Chad nodded in understanding. He had no problem intimidating any of the boys that’d shown interest in you, but out of the two of them, he was the one that seemed to be the one that got you.
“I do really like her. I don’t want us to have to sneak around, but I’ll keep doing it, if I have to,” Ethan said, smiling at you. “She’s amazing. It’d be stupid of me to not want a chance with her.”
“Do we have to sneak around? Or can you guys be cool about it?” you asked, as Chad sighed.
“I’m cool with it. Just…no hooking up when I’m here.”
“You’re okay with this?” Mindy scoffed, as Chad rolled his eyes.
“Ethan’s not a bad person. If he really likes her, what’s the big deal?”
“And that’s why he’s my favorite,” you said, brushing past them to head to the bathroom.
“Told you,” Chad said, teasingly pointing at Mindy before she smacked his hand away. “Ow!”
“Ethan, you better not hurt her,” Mindy scolded, as he nodded.
“I won’t…but can you guys get out while I put my pants back on?”
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freya-fallen · 3 days
Text
Little Dove 5/?
You're Pro Hero Hawks' little sister. Dabi finds out and everything devolves from there.
HawksxReaderxDabi
TW: none for this chapter, but future parts may include, but are not limited to, noncon, dubcon, drugging, forced incest, yandere hawks, yandere dabi, coercion, lying, manipulation, grooming (of an 18 year old character), obsession, gaslighting...
Part 1 Part 6
Keigo is still home when you wake up, a rare occurrence given his hours. You stare down at your phone to read through a few texts from Dabi and look up when you hear an abrupt sound. Your brother is making scrambled eggs wearing your frilly apron and a pair of boxers. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him whistling a little flourish while he flips the spatula through the air.
“‘Morning, Dove. Sleep well?”
You blush, remembering that you fell asleep while Keigo was preening your wings. You’d woken, tangled in sheets and diagonal across the mattress. “Did I steal the covers last night?”
He grins that heartbreaking grin of his that comes so naturally when he’s around you. “Only a little. I kept plenty warm, considering you were half on top of me.
“I’m sorry.”
He bats away the apology. “If it bothered me, we’d have separate beds. You’ve always been clingy in your sleep.”
To be fair, so is he. It’s a remnant of your childhood, when you were each other’s only real family. You still are, but now you have a stable life to go along with your relationship.
There was a time Keigo left. It was sometime after your father was finally arrested, when your memories become a blur for a while. You know you were hungry and cold and sad. Your mother was annoyed at your complaints, but there was nothing she could do about them. She yelled at Keigo, called him useless, and he took off.
You think you saw him once after that, then nothing. 
For a little while, you stayed alone with your mother. She rarely helped you with clothes or food or anything, really, so you quickly became a mess of a child. By the time the HPSC dropped in to pluck you from Tomie’s grasp, you were in such deplorable state that Keigo became furious when you saw him.
It was in the penthouse, your now-home. He’d fought with the commission to get a place for you, and a separate one for your mother. When you asked why, he always shrugged and muttered something about everyone being happier this way.
Keigo had run across the bare floor and dropped to his knees to look at you. “Did mom hurt you?” His hands were warm on your shoulders, his eyes boring into your own. You shook your head. “Did she feed you?” he asked next, to which you shrugged. Keigo sighed, glanced up at an adult and said, “Go get her something to eat.”
It was the first time you ever heard Keigo give a command. 
Your brother guides you to the table, snapping you from your memories. He has a full plate and orange juice all laid out. 
“Thank you, Keigo.”
 He beams. “You’re welcome.” He has made himself a plate with more food than yours. He spends all day most days out on patrol and apparently flying takes a lot of energy, so he keeps fueled. You’ve always marveled at how much he can scarf down per meal.
Your phone buzzes and he frowns at it. “Just a friend from school,” you explain, though you have the phone upside down, so it’s not like you can see the screen. He hums in response.
“Do you have the day off?” Hope lays thick in your voice. You’d promised to see Dabi later, but he’d understand that Keigo is home.
He shakes his head. “No, I just had a little time this morning. Sorry, Dove. I know I owe you some one-on-one time, but things are hectic at work right now.”
You know what that’s code for. “The commission has you on a special mission, huh?” You hate when this happens. They suck the life out of your brother, promising him the moon for one more little favor. It never ends; you know they’ve sent him to do things he shouldn’t, things he won’t talk about to anyone, but especially you. He could never ruin your image of him; it would break him.
You tell him you’ll love him anyway, but he just shakes his and smiles sadly.
“Yeah. It’s a really important one, though. It might stop a war.”
“Does it have to do with that guy who fought All Might?” you ask. He’s behind bars, but maybe he has some sort of team who can take over his evil plans. 
Keigo bites his lip. “You know I can’t tell you anything about it.”
“Yeah, yeah, secret squirrel stuff.” You raise a hand in defeat. “I know.”
“The secretest.” He puts your plates in the dishwasher after you’ve both cleared them, then pulls you into his arms for a hug. “I told them I’m taking a break after this one. I need it. We’ve all been working our asses off since All Might retired, but the flame man and I most of all.”
His heart is a steady beat against your ear. You wrap your arms around your brother and take in how much stronger he is than you. Even without him feathers, he could throw you over his shoulder. He takes his work seriously, despite his carefree appearance. You squeeze him, aware of how strong some villains are and how small your brother is compared to some. “You promise?”
Keigo rubs your back. “I promise. They won’t get anything outta me for at least a month.”
“A month?” The idea thrills you; you’ve never gotten to spend that much time free with him.
“Yep, just you and me. We can do anything, go anywhere.”
You grin up at him. “I can’t wait.”
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halfmoonshines · 2 days
Text
soft spot
damon salvatore x reader
summary; you're injured in a fight with a rogue vampire who breezed into town, and Damon is being weird about it
hurt/comfort
----
You tried to stay hidden in the shadows outside of the streetlight, but your rapid heartbeat probably would've given you away either way.
"Who the hell is this guy?" You heard Damon mutter from the spot he was tossed just a few feet away from you, dusting the dirt from the trash cans he'd squished like cardboard. His ice blue eyes spared you a quick glance but didn't say a word, trying not to draw any attention your way.
Damon intervened as Caroline was struggling to grapple with the stranger. In the span of a moment, she was on the ground groaning with a broken arm and he had launched the assailant to give them a chance to regroup - right toward you.
You couldn't help the little gasp that you emitted, no matter how much time you spent around these creatures this was a vampire. One in particular who would have no hang ups about snapping your neck.
Per their supernatural hearing, it didn't take long for the mans vicious senses to find you, and took half as long for him to have a bruising hand around your neck.
The sound of Damon yelling your name was distant in the background, you were focused on the threat literally snarling in your face.
"Don't you smell good?"
That was as far as the stranger managed to get before Damon had the broken handle of a broom protruding from his back. His grip slipped off your throat as his body slid sideways and you toppled to the ground, heading bouncing off the pavement hard enough for you to see stars.
Damon's voice was faint to you again, but you could hear him begging for your attention. Caroline was in the background too, in panicked discussion with someone over the phone. You couldn't get your eyes to focus though, hair becoming wet and warm.
The eldest Salvatore's touch on you was feather light, his mouth still moving with words he wanted you to latch onto but you had already lost the dance with consciousness.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
The first thing you were aware of when you woke up in a bed was that it was decidedly not yours. The next thing you noticed was that you weren't in any pain, just a bit stiff when you went to sit up from the bed. Someone had definitely given you blood, which was against every rule her and her friends had discussed, but from the smell of the sheets behind you - Damon wouldn't have cared either way.
You made your way out of the room and down the stairs, vaguely knowing the layout of the boarding house from your handful of times actually coming inside. Over the last few months you had become dangerously intertwined in Elena's grapple with the supernatural, despite Bonnie's vehement advice to go as far as possible. You were emancipated, you could switch schools and move to Pennsylvania.
No, you couldn't. Once your conscious had been opened to everything around you, once you were aware of the dangers of the dark - you could never ignore that. Better the evil you know.
Speaking of.
You came upon Damon in his favorite spot, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand while he leaned up against the fireplace. The suit jacket he had been wearing earlier that night was discarded on the couch behind him, a small amount of blood on the collar of his shirt still.
"You always look so broody." Poking fun at him might not be in your best interest, but you figured you'd give it a go. Over the last few months, your and Damon's relationship had morphed into something you couldn't quite understand, but moments like these had seemed to become more comfortable between you.
"I believe you're confusing me with my much broodier younger brother." Damon's words were laced with sarcasm, but his tone didn't have a hint of amusement.
You felt suddenly awkward, in his space and home. Just because you had gotten kind of comfortable lately didn't mean he wanted to be around you.
"Well, thanks for the whole life saving thing." You began to babble nervously, a faint pink glow to your cheeks. "I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for taking your bed, I don't even know what time it is-" You had begun turning toward the door, making to just leave and find a way home. How you could this age and still flustered in front of attractive men, especially murderous ones was beyond you.
Damon appearing in front of you almost made your heart stop, hair stirring at his incredibly fast movements. He was barely a foot away, his piercing gaze holding your confused one. From this close you could smell just how much he had probably drank.
"Are you... okay, Damon?" Your voice wavered a bit under the heat of his stare and you saw the muscle in his jaw working overtime while he looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to actually say anything to you.
"You don't have to thank me for saving you when you were in danger because of me." His eyes had drifted from your eyes to your neck, voice whisper quiet.
Vulnerability was the last thing you expected from the man standing over you. "What do you mean? It wasn't your fault. Just wrong place, wrong time and I so happen to be the weakest link." You hoped your voice conveyed even a bit of humor.
His eyes snapped back up to yours, head tilting slightly while he assessed you. Damon's hand rose to grab a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger in thought. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling like you were on the precipice of something.
"My weakest link, maybe. Have I told you how much I like your hair?" His voice was still quiet, an innocent lilt.
Your mind was reeling, half drunk on his closeness and hazed by confusion. Where was this coming from? Had he drank a small liquor store and now he was confusing her for her much more appealing best friend?
"Damon, I'm not sure how much you've had to drink, but I'm happy to brew you a pot of coffee. Does that even work for vampires?"
You had started to pull away, making to turn toward the kitchen but Damon was infinitely faster than you. His drink was discarded, one hand going to your upper arm and the other to your waist, tugging you back into his vicinity.
"On the contrary, I don't think I've ever been so sure minded, sparrow. I'm sorry for not protecting you tonight." His voice was tight now, the warmth of his hands tingling down your body.
"It's not your fault, or job, Damon." Your voice had quieted to match his, all humor leaving. You didn't know where this guilt had come from, but it was misplaced. Since you'd met Damon he'd made some bad decisions, but you had also seen his sacrifice so much for the sake of the team. Even if others didn't acknowledge it, he didn't need to add anymore to his plate.
"I'd like it to be. My job." His reply was lightning quick, eyes pinning yours in place.
Were you dreaming?
Damon's signature smirk was visible for a split second, telling you that your confusion was written all over your face. "I think that I'm asking you, in the most coming of age movie way, if you'd like to go steady?"
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
send any fic requests here!! all comments/criticisms/requests welcome
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luna-rainbow · 3 days
Note
So I was thinking about the super-soldier serum and the corrupting influence in relation to Bucky. The narrative of TFaTWS (is that the right abbreviation?) wants us to think Steve was the only person who was never corrupted by the serum.
It really annoys me because to me, its obvious that Bucky was never corrupted either and I think a large reason for that was because he never asked for it anyway. I mean yeah its theoretically possible for unasked for power to go to someone's head and for them to abuse it, but everything that happened to Bucky happened because other people were exploiting and using him for their own ends
I kept wanting to kind of yell every time someone rubbed the fact Bucky was a super-soldier in his face, John Walker, Zemo, even Sam at times because they all acted like he loved it or always wanted it or something.
If he had a choice, I dunno I think he just wanted to survive the war and go back home to live a normal life. If anything the serum was like a curse instead of a blessing for him and not something he derived a net benefit from overall.
What do you think?
I'll have no hope of finding my old post on this but yeah, lots of Bucky fans were pretty annoyed with that particular part of the storyline. It wasn't just Zemo saying "there's never been another Steve Rogers", it started with Walker saying "super soldiers don't exactly have a great track record no offence" along with Zemo talking about the Flagsmashers being supremacists (??) It's one of many examples where what is spoken doesn't match how they act, because a "one world one people" slogan is certainly not about any form of supremacy.
Erskine: The serum amplifies what is inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.
There were two ways of interpreting this: physical, and metaphorical. If the serum enhances everything physical, including the brain and its emotional centers, then yeah maybe it makes someone who is reckless more impulsive, someone who is prone to anger more aggressive, someone who is brave more fearless. I personally don't like this explanation because it seems...rather eugenics or essentialist to me, and the creation of Steve Rogers as Captain America was supposed to be a middle finger to the eugenics movement driven by the Nazis in the 1930s. It's like saying that what determines your actions and your personality is already embedded into your biology, so when your biology is enhanced, so are the good and bad traits in your personality. It doesn't seem to allow scope for personal choice as the main driver of people's actions.
The second option is a more metaphorical interpretation. The serum enhances physical strength and power (and presumably attractiveness), which tends to move people up the social ladder (regardless of whether this is the intention). And it falls back on the same motto that drives Peter Parker -- with great power comes great responsibility. When power falls into the hands of someone unscrupulous, it will tend to bring out their worst traits because the extra strength lowers their inhibitions. When power falls into the hands of someone idealistic and kind, one hopes they will take it upon themselves to use it responsibly and use it for good deeds.
So I agree, I think at some level, the intention behind becoming a super soldier does matter, because we've seen it impact on how people behave after they get their extra strength. The five Siberian super soldiers - their goal was to become better fighters and better spies, and they did, but they were so vicious they couldn't be contained. The Flagsmashers - I mean I'm not happy with their overall consistency, but you could argue their immaturity added a sense of vengefulness and anger to their purpose, which pushed them slowly onto the path of killing indiscriminately.
And Bucky? We have no indication he wanted to be any part of it. He didn't show jealousy at Steve's new bod, for one thing, just a concerned, "Did it hurt?" When Walker said, "This must be so easy for you, with all that serum in your veins." It was hard not to dislike him, because Bucky didn't choose to have the serum, and his protectiveness (in this case of Sam) predates the serum.
It wasn't the serum that turned Bucky into the Winter Soldier, as the series seem to imply at turns, although it seems to recognise at other times that it was the mind-control (and it never for a second even showed the torture Bucky went through). And aside from the Winter Soldier era, Bucky really doesn't have anything else to answer for...so yeah, I agree, I've always had issue with the way the series seem to emphasise that Steve was the only "good" super soldier.
If Bucky was "bad" simply through the serum, they wouldn't have needed to torture him to turn him into the Winter Soldier.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 days
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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)
 Chapter Four: Regrets
Synopsis: You wake up in a place you've never seen before and shit hits the fan pretty quickly.
CW: Mentions of unwanted touch, gore, violence, mentions of child loss (Victoria)
Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!
Chapter Three : Chapter Five: AO3
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 When you wake up again, your head is spinning and there is a man leaning over you with a smile on his face- he’s dressed head to toe in Paladin gear and there is a boot print with a compass insignia on his chest. The man is pretty, his skin has a slight bluish tint to it, but otherwise it’s more caramel colored, and he has a goofy, boyish grin. His hazel eyes bore into yours and his black messy hair frames his face. 
 Astarion would distrust him immediately.
 Your head is throbbing and your abdomen still feels the ghost of the arrow going through your much smaller form. Yet, all you can think about is getting back to Astarion as soon as possible. You will destroy the world if you have to if it means being by his side again. 
 “Welcome to the City of Manifest!” he yells with excitement. 
  The city of what now?
“Oh no- I need to g-“
  “Come on, get up, I have places to show you!” the man says, “my name is Brayden- a Wyst Paladin, most beautiful human you will ever meet, and,” he turns around with his arms wide, “certified tour guide for the newly dead!”
 Newly dead? You’ve been dead for a few centuries now. Wait, are you?
 “Dead!? Like gone gone?” you begin to panic, “no- I can’t! I- I have someone waiting for me to come back!”
   Your whole body begins to shut down- the air you don’t need being dragged into you in quick harsh gasps from panic. You can’t be gone. You can’t be! 
  You hope Astarion is okay- maybe you aren’t too far away from where you died? You did just kind of show up here- you thought you would have been dragged into the Ethereal Current.
  “Oh don’t fret! I’m sure they are on their way now- the City is not that far from wherever you died since you woke up here instead of in the good ole current,” the man continues to march towards the gates of the City, “people often come and live here with their passed loved ones or you can purchase a Manifesting Ring and be a solid humanoid outside of the City.”
“Solid?” you ask in confusion. 
“Notice how you can feel the breeze?”
  You pause and a small gust of wind kisses your face. Your hand goes hesitantly to your cheek- you actually felt the wind. Maybe you didn’t really notice because you were able to feel the wind as a cat anyhow so it wasn’t something you had to miss for too long.
“Wow,” you whisper.
 You slide off your shoes and put your feet in the freshly rained on grass- a laugh of delight escapes your lips. You are genuinely truly solid.
 Something sparks to life inside of you and all of the ‘What Ifs” begin to swirl around in your heart- making you positively giddy.
 This means that you have a chance- an honest to Gods chance- at being romantically involved with Astarion. You jump and shout- running across the grass with your shoes in hand and Brayden chasing after you. You don’t stop until you hit the gates- breathless, but with no use for air.
 It’s incredible. The ache in your legs, your lungs, and the cobblestone beneath your feet hurts, but in a way that is familiar and foreign all the same. You can feel frizzy flyaway hairs on your head and you can smell! 
  There must be a pastry shop somewhere and you are determined to find it, but first things first- you need to find Astarion. 
“Grief and a half woman,” Brayden comes to a halt in front of her, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be leading you!”
  You chuckle awkwardly, “Uh sorry- I guess I just got really excited.” 
  Brayden smiled understandingly. 
 “I was the same way when I arrived. I was also grateful to have another chance at life.”
 You hum in agreement and allow him to actually guide you this time. He shows you the Magic Swan Tavern- the most popular in town for it’s shenanigans. He takes you through the entirety of the Portal Ward District and you make note of the nice dagger that Deric’s Weapons is selling. 
 Maybe, if you can scrounge up some money, you can buy it for Astarion as a, “Sorry I keeled over. Again.” present. 
  After the Portal Ward District, you end up in the Market Ward with people shouting out their prices and discounts. Then you are off to Forestview and then back through the Portal Ward- The Leafy Branch tavern is far more quiet and calm than The Magic Swan Tavern, but you think you would prefer the noisiness and fun. You’ve missed out on that kind of environment for a very very long time. 
 There is so much to remember that your head feels like it’s swimming- there’s candle shops, pastry shops, live entertainment, loved ones reuniting, and people walking around with their neighbors or friends. 
 You are snapped out of your mystified reality when you arrive at The Tombyard district- the smell of rot and the feelings of despair make you feel colder than you already are.
 “This is the Tombyard- there is an eclectic group of individuals here,” Brayden says uneasily, “Necromancy and other magic that disturbs the peace of the dead are forbidden, but that doesn’t stop everyone.”
  There is a loud clattering from the alleyway and the Cleric steps in front of you protectively.      
 “Wait here,” he says sternly, “don’t go away with anyone who is not me or your friend, okay?)
 “Okay?”
  What in the hells is happening?
 10 minutes pass, then 20 before he reappears, except his eyes are different. Instead of being more brown, they are more red. His footsteps are way too soft compared to the clunking he was making earlier.
 “I really appreciate the tour and everything,” you say to Brayden, “but I need to go and find my friend-”
“Oh come on- just let me buy you one drink!” He grabs your arm, trying to drag you to the Tavern. 
 The man’s entire demeanor had changed. He was not puppy-like anymore- he was far too cool and collected. Horrifically pushy too. 
“No- I really need to find Astarion.”
“Forget him,” the man rolls his eyes, “he hasn’t gotten here yet. He’s probably moved on.”
  What? This man was just telling you about all the places to show Astarion and now he is saying he isn’t coming? 
 You feel tears prick your eyes and your lower lip begins to tremble. That’s not possible- is it?
 The man looks forlorn when he realizes how upset he made you. He comes over and gently pats your shoulders before looking you dead in the eyes. Although his face shows empathy, his eyes are empty and devoid of emotion. 
 You just need to get back to Astarion, this man doesn’t matter.
“Hey, look,” he says with a sigh, “I know someone who can help us find hi-“
 “Where!?” You practically scream, “take me there right now!” 
  The man smiles at you and gestures for you to follow him back towards The Tombyard. Something inside of you screams to stop following him, but the dumb part of you, the worried part of you that needs Astarion NOW, is winning over common sense. 
  There are far more alleyways in the Tombyard than you realized (you weren’t really paying much attention anyway), but something about going through alleyways with a stranger screams, “Astarion is going to have a cow when he realizes you followed a stranger when he has to rescue you from said stranger.”  
  You stop, letting ‘Brayden’ go further ahead when your stomach turns even tighter. Something is wrong. Very very wrong. 
 It’s like being in the Catacombs again.
  The man stops when he realizes you aren’t following him anymore, both of you staring at each other and standing mere feet apart. 
 Whoever this is- this is not the tour guide you met mere hours ago. This person has ill intentions.
 “Who are you?” 
  The question hangs in the air like a threat. It wasn’t meant to be, but knowledge is power and that’s all you have right now. 
  His face contorts and the man snarls in frustration- revealing massive canines. Your eyes go wide as the entire illusion drops. 
 It’s Leon. Of course it’s fucking Leon. 
 “You and Astarion are an annoying fucking duo,” he says harshly, “between the two of you- I really don’t know who is worse, but I am certainly fed up.” 
  Oh that might be a threat. 
  You take off running- sliding around corners of alleyways with Leon hot on your heels through the back alley of The Tombyard. He was Cazador’s best hunter for a reason and he certainly isn’t losing your trail. 
 Oh to be a cat again- there are so many good hiding spots. Astarion is going to have to take you to Halsin immediately after this- you definitely need to add ‘Druid’ to your limited list of skills.
  Leon sends you flying with a thunder wave and you have officially decided flying isn’t for you. 
  The wall hurts as you crash into it- your nose makes a cracking noise and some kind of blue liquid is coming out. Your head is spinning- the world is spinning. Your pants are ripped at the knees from skidding and your hands are raw with ectoplasm.
  You’re going to die die (two times in a day? What the hell did you do to deserve this?)
  Leon comes into your vision and you try to push yourself away- absolutely desperate to get away. It’s no use- every attempt at kicking out at him or fighting him off has failed and now he’s force feeding you a paralytic as he grips your scalp painfully- slamming your head against the pavement until you stop fighting back.
 Tears slip down your face- you should have listened to your instincts. Now you’re never going to see Astarion again and it feels like a massive gut punch. You always waited too long and never took risks, but of course the one risk you take is going to be your last. 
 And it’s not the risk you wanted to take today.
 I am so so sorry, Star, you think remorsefully, and Gods do I wish I told you I love you. 
                 *******************************
  The sound of Leon screaming and cursing in indignation is what snaps you back into the world. 
  He really fucking lost it after Cazador died, huh? Hopefully Victoria isn’t being subjected to this at home. If she is- you are going to need to locate the nearest looney bin for insane undead (it’s a literal bin, you and Astarion frequently joke about Gardening and used Cazador as fertilizer for really pretty pink flowers). 
  You are both in a cage (how fitting- a Birdie in a cage) and you think you may be in some kind of temple. It smells even worse than Szarr Palace and the individuals walking around are very obviously somewhere between a rotting zombie and an intelligent, humanoid. Astarion had described a man like this once- Balthazaar- and to your recollection, the man was a Necromancer. 
 So none of this really bodes well for either one of you right now. 
 “We had a deal!” Leon spits at the man looking at him in amusement from the other side, “a soul for a soul- I brought you someone else’s loved one and you owe me.”
 “Hm,” the man says, “even when immortal, humans are still the dullest humanoid.” 
 “Ha!” You snort, Leon glaring at you, “what? You deserved that one.” 
  He growls something unintelligible towards you before turning to speak to the Necromancer again, but he’s already gone.
“You dolt!” you exclaim, “look at what you’ve done! You bored the man with the keys away.” 
 “Don’t you mean scare?”
“I know what I said- dick cheese,” you scrunch up your nose, stick out your tongue, and flip him off. 
  “Gods,” Leon groans, “you are as bad as Astarion. Maybe I should have tried to kill him the first time I asked to take you and he said no. Or I could have been more aggressive in my hunts, but of course the fucker has developed some basic common sense and combat skills.”
  Your face must reveal some element of shock because Leon just snorts and shakes his head in disdain.
 “That son-of-bitch never talked to you about that, did he?” 
 “Obviously not,” you quip, “does this look like the face of a person who knows what you are talking about?” 
  Leon looks at the ground- his shoulders slumped in defeat.
 “Victoria died,” he says flatly, “Dalyria killed her before the ritual. I came here, hoping she was waiting for me, but she wasn’t able to get out of the Ethereal Current.
“I ran into that Necromancer,” he says with disgust, “and he told me that he could bring back Victoria, but he needed the soul of another person’s loved one. An eye for an eye- to complete the spell. I had already done the original groundwork- you were the missing piece.
“I asked Astarion to talk to you two days after you both left Baldur’s Gate, since we all knew he had some weird attachment to a cat, but obviously you didn’t get a say.” 
  You are floored. This definitely should have been a conversation for you two to have- a child literally died! You would have happily helped! You will definitely be having a conversation with Astarion about this. You at least deserve to have a say over your own life force.
 “Ha, I thought he’d leave his guard down, slip up, something,” Leon scoffs, “but no. Every trap, every location, and every attempt has been thwarted by Astarion. Hells- I even fucking killed you before you left that portal and it’s like he’s still keeping me away from my daughter because he taught you to be suspicious. 
“I wish Cazador had been able to torture that runt one last time or better ye-“ 
  Somehow- your hand ends up around Leon’s vocal chords. And not just in a normal way- oh no. Your hand is submerged in his skin and is practically translucent. If you weren’t so positively pissed- you would have probably taken the time to throw up. 
 “You will not talk about him that way,” you leer into the man’s face and he does actually look afraid, “You would be lucky to be half the man Astarion is and if you slander his name one more time, I’m going to possess you and make you lap up disgusting, congealed blood off the floor- capiche?” 
  Leon continues to just look back at you in shock and horror so you tighten your grip.
“I SAID- CAPICHE!?” 
  Leon nods wordlessly and you let go of your chokehold on his vocal chords. You are also still in shock, but he doesn’t need to know that. He can’t know that you are very very new to this whole interactive ghost thing. 
 “What happens now?” You ask slowly, “do you know what is going to happen to us?” 
  Leon shrugs and just falls to the floor- sitting down against the cage in defeat.
“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine anything good.” 
 You frown, “what makes you say that?”
 “Because of us.”
 A chill runs up your spine and you begin to develop goose flesh along your arms. Slowly, you turn in the direction of Dalyria’s voice and what you see- you can hardly fathom. A blood curdling scream leaves your mouth. 
 Dalyria, Violet, Petras, Yousen, and Aurelia are all chopped up and sewn together at different places. One massive body with mismatched eyes adorning Dalyria’s head and the other eyes and mouths stitched shut. Dalyria has two tongues and drools pouring out of her mouth. They are all stitched onto Yousen’s torso but with Petras’ arms and legs. Every part is mutilated in some horrific way. 
  You put your face in your hands and sob so hard you begin to gag. 
 “Leon did this to us,” Dalyria slurs into the open, “we were the groundwork. Miss Incognito is still being worked on, but she’s gone too.” 
 No! You scream to yourself, no! They should all be happy- living their lives! Not- not this!
 You favored Astarion, but you did like the others and you liked Victoria too. You tried to help them too when you could and they are- were- genuinely good people who never deserved this.
   With shaking hands and chattering teeth- you feel something light up inside of you and a wave of red blurs your vision. 
 “You MONSTER!” You scream, getting up right, “you had no right!”
  You kick your foot and will it to become translucent and it does. Leon’s head goes flying backwards into the cage and you try not to think about the squishy contents on your shoes. 
 The rage, grief, and sadness in your body is all inflicted onto Leon in crazy, supernatural ways. You are blinded by powers you didn’t even know you had, you barely even remember what actions you took or spells you unintentionally cast. 
  When Leon is finally lifeless and destroyed- you go to the other side of the cage and curl up in a ball in the corner. 
 You’ve never killed anyone and you are beginning to regret it now. Leon is unrecognizable and you struggle to look away.
 Did you really just condemn a man to death because he had tried to get his beloved daughter back?
 “What an impressive display of power!” 
  You look up and come eye to eye with a Lich of all the fucking things. Astarion is going to be so upset with you when he finds you. You can already hear him castigating you.
 “WHAT IN THE WRETCHED HELLS WERE YOU THINKING!?” 
 Oh, you were just thinking that he may leave without you if he thought you fucked off and you love him too much to never see him again. 
 Just some silly little feelings is all. 
 For once, you are being the impulsive one. Hopefully Astarion is prepared to be the prepared one this time. 
 If he even comes for me, you think, I wouldn’t have gotten within 100 feet of this place if I had known there was a Lich here.
 “You know, Leon said there was something special about you,” he circles the cage, “I thought he was talking out of his ass.
“How wonderful of him to have brought me such an incredible gift before his untimely demise. I suppose he should consider himself lucky- at least this way he can see his daughter again.”
 The Lich chortles and a shiver goes up your spine as one of his lithe fingers reaches through the cage and strokes the side of your face. You feel your tears start up again in full force and then he cuts your cheek with his nail before lapping up the ectoplasm that flows through your veins through the cage. His breath is foul and rancid- his tongue feels like sandpaper on your skin.
 “Mmmmm delicious,” the Lich smiles, “it’s a shame you’ve found a way to be useful to me and my research. Hopefully I will be able to indulge in you later.” 
 No, no, no! This can’t be happening.
  “Pl-pleas-please don’t hurt me,” you say through sobs and tears, “I wo-won’t tell anyone what I saw- I will never come back here! Please!” 
 The Lich frowns and looks annoyed with you. 
“Orcus help me, I hate beggars and weaklings,” he scoffs, “I’ll keep you with me so when I have use for you again- I know you won’t be very far.” 
 A searing pain roars through your body and the world goes completely dark.
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Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper
Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜
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Just Breathe- Series
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Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 
Here is the original ask for a refresher.
Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:
Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.
This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 
Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 
I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 
Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 
Happy Reading
Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 
Y/N POV
Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 
You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 
Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 
****
You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.
“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 
“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.
“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.
She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.
“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 
“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”
She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 
Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 
“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.
She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”
“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”
Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”
Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”
Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 
****
The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”
“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 
“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 
He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”
Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 
He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”
Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.
“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 
You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 
Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”
You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 
Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.
Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…
“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.
Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!
“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 
“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”
“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”
Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 
She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 
Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.
Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”
“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.
“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 
You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”
“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”
Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”
“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 
*******
Dean POV
He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.
He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.
Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV
Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 
“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”
You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”
You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 
Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 
Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 
“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 
“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.
“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 
“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”
Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?
*****
The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 
Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.
His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 
Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.
*******
Y/N POV
“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”
“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.
Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”
You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 
“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”
“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.
“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 
“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 
Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”
 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”
“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 
“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.
Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   
“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 
His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”
*******
 Y/N and Dean POV 
“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 
Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”
“So you're stalking me now?”
“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.
“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 
“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 
You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!
He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”
“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 
Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 
“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 
“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.
Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 
“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 
“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.
“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?
“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”
“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 
******
“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.
“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 
They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 
Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 
“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 
“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 
******
“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 
“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”
Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.
Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.
“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.
“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.
“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”
The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.
“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.
“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.
“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.
“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.
“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.
You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.
Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”
You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.
Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 
He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”
You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”
“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 
You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 
Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…
*******
“Hey Sammy,”
“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.
Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 
Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”
Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”
“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.
Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 
Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 
*****
“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 
“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”
“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”
“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”
“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.
“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”
“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 
“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 
Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 
Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 
Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”
Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 
“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 
He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”
You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.
Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.
“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.
“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.
You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.
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a-motherfucking-beast · 4 months
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coach ur so cool but i hate exercising :(
SON. LET ME TELL YOU. THERE IS A CERTAIN THING ALL THE LANKY BINOS IN THEIR HAUGHTY-TAUGHTY UNIVERSITIES AGREE ON. AND THAT'S THAT THERE ARE *SOME* THINGS THAT ARE ESSENTIAL TO BEING A HUMAN. ART -- MUSIC, DANCE, VISUAL MEDIUMS. FRIENDSHIP, BROTHERHOOD. JOY AND SORROW. SHARING OF KNOWLEDGE. FAITH. LOVE. FOR SOMEONE ELSE, FOR THIS WORLD, FOR YOURSELF.
AND, LAST BUT NOT LEAST -- PHYSICAL ACTIVITY. FUCK YEAH
BE IT PLAYING TIGGY IN THE SCHOOLYARD OR BEING A PROFESSIONAL LINEBACKER PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE PLAYS A SPORT OR EVEN JUST WALKS SOMEWHERE AT SOME POINT IN THEIR LIFE. FOR GOOD REASON -- EXERCISE RELEASES ENDORPHINS AND DOPAMINE AND OTHER FEEL-GOOD SHIT IN YOUR BRAIN, BALLFACE, AND EVEN IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ALL THE OTHER BENEFITS OF STAYING HEALTHY AND BEING ABSOLUTELY YOKED AND TAKING CARE OF YOUR BODY THAT SHOULD PROBABLY CONVINCE YOU TO TRY OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT
SON, I'M NOT GOING TO CONVINCE YOU TO TAKE UP BODYBUILDING OR ANY OTHER HEFTY COMMITMENT LIKE THAT. THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC BUT EVEN I CAN RECOGNISE THAT IT'S NOT FOR EVERYONE. I CAN ONLY OFFER THIS ADVICE.
IF YOU HATE EXERCISING THEN THERE ARE ONLY SEVERAL (AT LEAST ONE) POSSIBILITIES WHY YOU DO.
A) YOU HAVEN'T FOUND THE RIGHT OUTLET. TRY OUT A NEW SPORT YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED BEFORE THAT YOU CAN PLAY AT YOUR LOCAL GYM. HARRY WAS THE FUCKING GOAT AT BEING A GYM TEACHER BUT NOT EVERY GYM TEACHER IS AS FANTASTIC AS HE WAS AND MAY NOT FACILITATE THE FULL EXPERIENCE OF PLAYING A SPORT SO MAYBE EVEN TRY PLAYING SOMETHING YOU THINK YOU DON'T LIKE. HELL, MAYBE TRY SOMETHING LIKE ACROBATIC ARTS, THAT SHIT NEEDS STRENGTH AS WELL. FUCKING BREAKDANCING. BECOME AN ANAL ACROBAT LMFAO. HELL, YOU DON'T NEED SOMETHING STRENUOUS -- EVEN IF YOU GO FOR A WALK IN YOUR LOCAL PARK EVERY MORNING WHEN THE SUN'S JUST RISING (THE VIEW AROUND THE LAKE IN THE MIDDLE OF JAMROCK IS BEAUTIFUL) OR DO SOME STRETCHES WHEN YOU WAKE UP THAT COUNTS FOR SOMETHING. DON'T LET ANYONE PUT YOU DOWN FOR DOING LESS THAN THEM.
B) YOU HAVEN'T GOT THE RIGHT PEOPLE SUPPORTING YOU. AGAIN, YOU ONLY WISH YOU COULD'VE HAD OUR HARRY AS YOUR TEACHER AND REFEREE, BUT IT ALSO COMES DOWN TO YOUR TEAMMATES, WHETHER THEY FACILITATE YOUR PRESENCE AND BUILD A SENSE OF CAMARADERIE WITH YOU. YOUR SPOTTER, WHO YOU PLACE ULTIMATE TRUST IN. YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, THE PEOPLE YOU HOLD CLOSEST WHO YOU CAN SHARE YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS WITH. OR EVEN JUST THE PERSON DOING THEIR OWN THING NEXT TO YOU WHO MIGHT GIVE YOU A WORD OF ENCOURAGEMENT OR CONGRATULATE YOU WHEN YOU HIT A NEW PERSONAL RECORD. GOING TO A GYM CAN HELP WITH THIS WHEN YOU ALL HAVE A SHARED GOAL, BUT THERE'S PLENTY OF ELITISTS THERE WHO MIGHT SHIT ON YOU FOR BEING A NEWBIE OR NOT HAVING THE SAME CAPABILITIES AS THEM OR EVEN HARASSING YOU FOR YOUR IDENTITY. TUNE THEM OUT. THESE KINDS OF PEOPLE ARE PRESENT EVERYWHERE YOU GO AND YOU SHOULDN'T ALLOW THEM TO SULLY YOUR EXPERIENCES. OR ALSO YOU CAN DECK THEM IN THE FACE. PERSONALLY I'M LEANING TOWARDS THE SECOND ONE BUT IT'S YOUR CHOICE (DO THE SECOND ONE)
NOW THAT WE'VE GOT THAT STRAIGHT, I'LL TELL YOU RIGHT NOW -- ONLY DO SOMETHING YOU KNOW YOU'RE CAPABLE OF, AND SOMETHING YOU KNOW YOU CAN ENJOY. DON'T TURN THIS SHIT INTO A GODDAMN CHORE THAT LEAVES YOU SUFFERING EVERY TIME YOU DO IT, THAT'S NOT THE FUCKING POINT OF ANY OF IT. I DON'T KNOW YOUR PERSONAL SITUATION, NOT EVERYONE'S GOT THE MEANS OR THE TIME OR THE PHYSICAL CAPABILITIES. BUT CALISTHENICS DOESN'T TAKE ANY SPECIAL EQUIPMENT AND EVEN JUST SOME STRETCHES WHEN YOU GET UP WILL DO. GODDAMMIT, COACH *WILL* FIND SOMETHING THAT WORKS FOR YOU, BOY
ANYWAYS DAMN RIGHT I'M FUCKING COOL DON'T YOU FORGET THAT
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tortademaracuya · 8 months
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It feels undeserving 👍
#once again thinking if i should like. not tell anyone#not tell anyone when the festival will be held nor my thesis defense#dont tell anyone absolutely anyone so no one can come see me#whyshould i make people waste time on seeing probably one of the worst things i have worked on#i feel. judged everyday. nothing is as good as it should be#this does not feel like a feat but rather a terrible shame#who cares about my degree i always feel like im being shamed when someone broughts up the fact im working on my thesis#i like what i study. dont get me wrong. and i dont think this in general. this is a me only issue and iknow that#and i know everyone would get upset with me#not like my mind cares haha the thoughts wont stop even if i try to be rational#i feel like such a terrible burden just asking for help. i feel like everyones thinking what a disappointment i am#i shouldnt need help. i should be doing this alone. and it should be way better than the garbage im making#last class the professors asked me 'why did u rate yourself so low? your work is fine'#i didnt even pick the low option i wanted. i picked a higher one to be generous with myself. i wish i had picked a 1. thats what i deserved#even if they say it looks good or that they r excited to see what i make. it all sounds like lies in my head#no one showing up is what i deserve. i shouldnt ask for help. i shouldnt celebrate anything#i wish people would yell at me and tell me what a fuck up i am#'the people that love you would be excited to help you if you would actually let them'#it all feels like a set up for showing what an idiot i am#haunted.txt
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convxction · 2 years
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[ you being nice and wholesome to chrom will make him very emotional. thanks for support friend. 
#⚔ooc.⚔ (faty speaks)#[i see wholesome art even for other fandoms make my brain ah yes for krumb too. this is neat.#[sobs in my hands#[give him more friends dang it! every type of friend ok??? rivals hello???#[it is funny that chrom is just =_= looking sometimes and ppl assume he might slice them if they spoke to him#[or like argued with him or disagreed with him but hes like 'ok so?' and thats just culture shock to them#[1) if they knew who is his father that will make them very shooketh yes#[2) his face is really not friendly-ish looking when you first meet him ...man it takes a bit for you to notice his subtle smile#[(shut up chrom is not huehue kind of guy please understand that he is military man first and foremost sobs)#[3) being as i said military man means he either gonna take no one's advice or suggestion because he is right always#[or the type who will K you instantly without arguing#[so yeah i want that ok????#[i want more interactions figuring these tiny little things about him first and not just 'well hello there hamsom / brave/ strong man'#[dont get me wrong lmao i am berry ok with that but dont think i had the 'press x to doubt' moment for chrom#[it is neat if he is trying to talk to someone and they just backs away thinking he will hurt them and chrom WHY YOU FUCKING RUNNING AWAY???#[them: IT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE COMING AT ME!!!!! WHY YOU YELLING!?#[chrom: BECAUSE YOU ARE RUNNING AWAY I HAVE NOT DONE ANYTHING! IM RYING TO TALK TO YOU PUNK!#[back and forth until they ....ok. lets just. calm down.#[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakrumb loves his friends and family ;;u;;#[anyway. here some chocolate/ strawberry milk for bribe.
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apollo-zero-one · 6 hours
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Listening to stories of people who survived situations like being trapped in collapsed buildings and it kinda sounds like the human response to being trapped in a bad situation is to just keep going back to sleep until death comes. Thinking about depressive avoidant sleeping. Brain doesn't know you aren't trapped under rubble it can't see out of his bone prison brain just knows everything is bad and everything hurts and we can't handle this stress we need to divert all power to life support, night night.
#is that a horrible comparison to make? yeah probably in poor taste given the state of things#do I earnestly believe I am in as traumatic a situation as that? I think my brain is reacting the same way yeah. genuinely.#I think my brain has been in survial mode or death incoming mode for like. since middle school#I think I hit puberty and my brain decided we are dying slowly and painfully and has been reacting accordingly.#I think this year it got much worse tho I think this is when I hit the critical level because this is when I have been sleeping more#I hate that house and my roommates so much that I just sleep whenever I'm there. i don't eat much at home#I try not to drink much so that i don't have to use the bathroom as much and that also minimizes my kitchen trips.... I collect 2 litres of#water each morning. one for me one for my cat. his fountain stays full and I ration my water for myself and on the 4 nights a week I work#I will refill it at work. I am mostly trying to be unseen unheard in that house. Of course the dogs always hear me which is why I am so#careful. I only pass through that house twice a day: once in the morning and once in the evening. Coming and going.#on my days off that means only 2 bathroom trips per 24 hours but you know fucking what I still get bitten by a dog every time.#and wish I had just pissed in a bottle or something because they are jumping on me they are biting me there are tears in my eyes I am biting#my tongue because if I shout or tell them to stop their owner comes and yells at them. And they don't give a shit about being yelled at!!#but me??? Bleeding and anxious and trying not to piss myself?? I don't handle being yelled at well!! even if it isn't directed at me!!#I have RSD!! I used to cry in school when a teacher was chewing out SOMEONE ELSE !! and being SHOUTED genuinely at????#i am not coping well!! i do not feel safe in this house!!! between the actually getting bitten and the yelling!!!#and the yelling is nonstop because these women have issues with each other. bro I'm so fucking glad my dad moved out when he started having#Marital Issues bcos I think I'd have like 85% more childhood trauma if I had to listen to them fighting like this as a kid#shit I'm getting adulthood trauma from these women fighting. oh my god. angie dump your girlfriend for christ sake#and sTOP MOTHERING ME. I MOVED HERE TO GET AWAY FROM MY MOM AND THIS WOMAN IS WORSE THAN MY MOTHER ABOUT THE FUCKING MOTHERING.#Stop telling me what to wear!! Stop telling me what to eat!! Stop asking if I'm seeing anyone!!#this is my own fault I put myself in this situation and I am trying to claw my way back out but it isn't as easy as it was to get in ;-;#I hate myself I hate the decisions I made that got me here
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yelloworangesoda · 2 months
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the worst part about my incredibly low pain tolerance is when people literally don’t believe you. why would i lie
#its not like. that interesting#it just makes me look that much more weak and pathetic#yes that literally!!! hurts!!! that hurt when you did that. apologize?#dont just go ‘that didnt hurt’ well. it did. so :/#its like sensory issues other people don’t experience them so they assume im lying#volume is a big one for me you cant. yell thats my thing. yelling hurts my ears but its not important enough for anyone to#even notice they do it and apologize i have to go ‘hey dont’. i try to be on top of my tone bc i understand thats important to people and i#don’t always do it right (its not like. actively choosing a tone but it’s more often accidentally having a more. um annoyed or bored or#angry sounding one). and bc i know i dont get it right i go ‘whoops sorry i meant it like this’ but people yell and scream and grab and all#and dont even bother going ‘oh im sorry simon i know that hurts you#i know you dislike that for one reason or another i will continue my effort to not do it again’. and like theres an understanding i try to#put across that i know volume control doesnt come easy for everyone and yelling is often an instinctual reaction god knows i do it. but#like acknowledge. please that you hurt me#i hate my shitty pain tolerance it makes things legitimately harder for me. i have a lamp that hurts to turn off and a hairdryer that hurts#to turn on and off. i like being moved around my boyfriend but it hurts 100% of the time. when he picks me up. thing i enjoy. it will hurt#theres no way around it. it sucks really bad is all. i wouldnt lie about this :/#simons spouting#vent :(
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
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chimaerra · 11 months
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also. sometimes my friends make me go insane
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