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#and that things aren’t going back to how they used to be
hysteria-things · 2 days
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DRUNK IN LOVE
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!
WE ARE SO BACK…
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genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.
juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.
your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.
the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.
the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.
before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.
nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.
you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.
eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.
“yeah. i’m fine.”
it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.
his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.
usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.
other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.
the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.
his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.
you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.
with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.
you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.
screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.
this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.
he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.
getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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moonbaetarot · 2 days
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Pick a pile
what your future spouse loves about your appearance
1. 2. 3.
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Pile 1
Your future spouse loves your features So much that they can’t wait to see your beautiful features on your children. your future spouse loves that you don’t care what others think of you like you wear what you want and you feel happy doing it. someone here may work with animals. they love how you look so beautiful with little to none makeup your just a natural you may like to use non toxic or like natural beauty hacks. This person loves your curly or wavy hair. You have something unique to you and they love this they have never laid eyes on someone like you. They also love your height. Your future spouse loves the details in your face your face is just beautiful to them. There is something about a flower here idk if you have a flower tattoo or a piece of jewelry that’s a flower but they think this really cute. This person thinks you just glow you may look very pretty in nature or in the sunlight. You may dress modest or not show a lot of skin out in public and they like this. They also love the way you look in white. If you wear any type of jewelry or clothing relating to your religion or culture they think this is really beautiful as well.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 2
Your future spouse loves how cute and innocent you look they may take pictures of you and you hold up a thumps up or a peace sign and they think this is cute. They like your small facial features and your side profile is on point. They love your hair the way you style it or just even when you’re wearing it natural. someone here may have many ear piercings Or a belly piercing. This person really loves your “chest” if you’re a woman I’m hearing “perfect for my hands” They are making it known in this reading that they love your “chest” lol. This person really thinks your whole body is beautiful. This person thinks you look very nurturing and mothering. They love your soft features. They think you smell really good as well your sent may be very floral. Someone here may love cherry blossoms. You may wear your hair half up half down. I feel like this person thinks you’re just so perfect like they look at you and just think how did they get this way like they are so beautiful. They are very in wow when they look at you. This person is really going to love the way you look as a mom they are going to find you so attractive just doing mother things.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 3
They love your face when you smile or laugh you may even blush or get red but they think this is cute. I feel like they find your laugh very cute as well. This person likes the way you look in bright colors especially yellow or orange they think it fits your personality very well. This person sees you as happy and bright I feel like when you are happy so are they. You may be a lot smaller then your future spouse if your insecure about being short or skinner don’t be your future spouse thinks your beautiful like that. They love your tattoos if you have any. Im seeing a tattoo or birth mark on your back. You may look really innocent but your not like your an “angle in the street freak in the sheet” this person likes that they are the only ones that gets to see this side of you. You may love reading as well but the books you read aren’t about unicorns and rainbows lol. I feel like your face and eyes are very telling as well like they can tell what you’re thinking just by your face. this person finds you very juicy you just looks so good to them they just wanna take a bite out of you lol. You may dye your hair a lot like one day your hair is brown the next your blonde.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
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sassypossumm · 2 days
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Missed My Pillow
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Miguel's spoiled. He can't sleep if you're not right there...
“Y/N?” Miguel stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Oh, hey, Migs.” Turning, you looked over your shoulder to give him a tired smile. Miguel yawned and made his way to stand behind you. You turned your attention back to the stove. “I thought you were asleep.” He responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair.
“I was.” You grinned at the muffled vibration against your neck.
“Then why aren’t you still asleep?” You whispered, leaning back into him, gently whisking the milk you were heating. Miguel pulled his nose away from your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I couldn’t find my pillow.” He yawned, tightening his grip on your waist.
“Miggy, I have to get the cocoa powder.” Miguel turned his face back into your neck and grumbled.
“I was just getting comfortable.” He protested. With a chuckle you turned your face a little to look at him. He pulled back and yawned again.
“Oh, that’s charming.” Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. A warmth bloomed across your chest. He was so adorable with his hair wild and his eyes still bleary with sleep. All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and fold yourself into him like a koala.
“If I let you get it, will you come back to bed.” He grumbled, not willing to release you. At your nod, Miguel moved to release you. He looked a little surprised when you grabbed his wrists and wound his arms back around your waist. Turning back to look at him again, you gave him a warm smile.
“Walk me to the cabinet, Spider-Man?”
“Can’t make it by yourself, gorgeous?” Miguel smirked.
“What can I say, this is a pretty rough town.” You gave him a playful grin. You felt Miguel's chest rumble, but he acquiesced and walked you to the cabinet and back. Uncapping the cocoa, you poured some into the milk and gently began stirring again.
“Couldn’t sleep, Y/N?” Miguel whispered, resting his chin back on your shoulder. With a sigh, you melted back into his frame. Miguel reached around you and turned off the stove before guiding you towards the bedroom. He noticed how you stiffened as you reached the bedroom door, and instead opted for the couch. Sitting down first, he pulled you back into his chest.
“What’s wrong, muñeca?” He whispered, you rested your head on his shoulder and reached for his hand. Several moments passed like this. Miguel holding you while you played with his fingers.
“I love you, Miggy.” The words came out thick. Looking down at his hand, you traced each finger and wove yours in-between his own. “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” You could feel Miguel's breath stall. His fingers tightened around yours.
“I should be the one saying that, muñeca.” He rasped. You held up your joined hands towards the light.
“Maybe it’s true for both of us.”
“Y/N?” He rested his chin on the top of your head.
“Yeah, Migs?” Lowering your hands, you shifted so you could look up at him.
“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow.” He smiled down at you, and you returned it with a slowly spreading one of your own.
“I’d like that.” Miguel moved to lay further back, when you remembered something. “Oh!” You shot up, startling him. Miguel gave you a confused look. “I forgot my milk!” When you moved to get up, Miguel shook his head and pulled you roughly back into his form.
“Sleep.” He shifted and tucked you into his side. You blinked up at him and opened your mouth.
“But,” You tried.
“Sleep.” Your brows raised at his commanding tone.
“Yes, sir.” You mumbled. Satisfied that you weren’t going anywhere, Miguel wrapped an arm around your middle and curled himself around you. Stifling a yawn, you gave in to the sleep edging around your mind.
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adriennebarnes · 2 days
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Can You Be My Boyfriend?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N is Ferrari’s social media manager and when one of the mechanics doesn’t take no for an answer, she pretends she’s dating a certain Ferrari driver.
Warning: grammatical and spelling errors cuz I don’t proofread
A/N: i just wanted to say thank you so much for the love y’all gave “Prince of Ferrari”, it means a lot to me as a new Charles Leclerc writer. I hope y’all like this one too, just like Olivia Rodrigo, I am so American,
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Y/N walked into Fred’s office.
“Mr. Vasseur, I had an idea for a new C2 challenge.” Y/N said.
“What did you have in mind, Y/N?” Fred asked.
“I was thinking we make dishes from each place we go to. Like Cuban food from Miami, Texas barbecue ribs, paella from Spain, and we have Charles and Carlos match the dishes to their flag. I personally think it would be fun, you know? Or we could do a video where the drivers tell us from which Grand Prix the photo was taken.” Y/N suggested.
“Those are very good ideas, Y/N, see if the boys are up to it, will you? Figure out when the best time is to film that.” Fred said.
“Yes, will do.” Y/N said and left his office. She walked to the living room (does the hospitality have a living room? I don’t know) to see Carlos and Charles chatting to away.
“There she is! Como has estado, hermosa?” Carlos asked Y/N, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Ha estado súper bien, un poquito cansada, pero nada que no se puede arreglar con un café.” Y/N said, her and Carlos laughed.
“I understand half of that.” Charles said.
“Now you know how I feel when you speak French.” Y/N said. “Anyway, as your social media manager, I had an idea for an upcoming challenge, we have to make the most of this season.” Y/N said.
“We hear you, mon ange, what’s the idea?” Charles asked.
“Can you guys guess what Grand Prix this is based off the picture?” Y/N asked, showing them a picture on her phone.
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“That’s when I won in Monza.” Charles answered.
“Good, this is your challenge, guessing Grand Prixs based off a photo.” Y/N said putting her phone away. “It’s not much, but it’s different from what you guys have done in the past. You could also match dishes to their countries.” Y/N said.
“Sounds like a fun challenge.” Carlos said.
“Good to hear. I’m gonna be with the photographer, he’s taking photos of the new livery and I need to approve them before I post them on Instagram. See ya later, okay?” Y/N said, stepping into the garage where she sees the photographer looking over the photos on his camera.
“Y/N! You’re here, tell me what you think, and be brutally honest. Do you think they came out to blurry?” The photographer, Daniel, asked. Y/N started looking them over.
“They look great, honestly, it matches Ferrari’s instagram feed, you did a good job. Can you upload them to the computer?” Y/N asked and Daniel said that he could. He left Y/N alone on the garage and that’s when one of the mechanics, Ruggero, approached her.
“Sei bellissima, a more mío.” Ruggero told her. Y/N rolled her eyes,
“Grazie, Rugge, what do you want?” Y/N asked.
“You are very hostile towards me, you know? I might be able to forgive you if you go out with me.” Ruggero said.
“Not gonna happen, Rugge, aren’t you tired of getting rejected?” Y/N asked.
“I bounce back. Come on, amore, why won’t you let me take you out? You think you’re too good for me?” Ruggero asked.
“What are you talking about? Oh my god, I don’t think I’m too good for you, where the hell did you get that from?” Y/N asked, so confused at the turn this conversation took.
“Well that’s the only thing I could think of, you come from the states, you clearly think you’re better than Europeans.” Ruggero said and Y/N had enough of this nonsense.
“I have a boyfriend! Que pesado eres, me cae.” Y/N said.
“Really, who’s the boyfriend?” Ruggero asked. Y/N saw Charles walking into the garage.
“Muñeco, there you are!” Y/N said loudly, walking up to Charles and kissed him. Charles widened his eyes in shock but kissed her back and they both pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and Charles rubbed her back.
“Congratulations, does Fred know?” Ruggero asked.
“It’s private right now, we’re just seeing how this goes.” Y/N replied and as soon as Ruggero left, Y/N pulled away from Charles. “I am so sorry! Ruggero wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to tell him I had a boyfriend and honestly whoever walked through that door was going to be the victim of my lie but I am glad it’s you and not Carlos, mainly because Ruggero knows Rebecca is dating him.” Y/N explained quickly but Charles was still distracted, thinking about the kiss Y/N gave him.
“I’m sorry, what?” Charles asked.
“Can you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could pull this off, Y/N. We work together.” Charles said.
“We would only have to pretend we’re dating around Ruggero, no one else has to know, I promise.” Y/N said.
“Okay fine.” Charles said, him and Y/N were walking back to the main area (I don’t know how this works) and Carlos was standing next to Fred and Ruggero with a smile.
“Congratulations, cabrón,” Carlos told charles, hugging him. “You two are adorable.” Charles turned to look at Y/N with a look that said ‘no one will know, yeah right’
“I didn’t know you two were dating.” Fred commented.
“It’s still new.” Charles replied, putting his arm around Y/N.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the social media posts, it should be fine.” Fred said before walking away. Ruggero smiled before going back to the garage.
“Now I know why you always called her ‘mon ange’, que coqueto saliste, eh charles.” Carlos said, leaving Y/N and Charles alone, Y/N pulled away to face Charles.
“Well so much for that plan, I really am sorry, Charles.” Y/N said.
“You know what? It’s alright, it’s okay, pretending around here should be easy enough, this can’t get worse, right?” Charles asked.
“I Don’t think it can. How about I buy you lunch for getting you into this situation? I swear I did not mean for this to happen.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, sure let’s get lunch, where do you want to go?” Charles asked.
“Well since this lunch is my treat, you choose where we should go.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked to the parking lot together and Y/N was walking towards her car when Charles grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his car. “Seriously?”
“Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if we went to lunch in different cars?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, makes sense, Ruggero is watching through the window too, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles opened the passenger door and Y/N got in, he close the door behind her, ever there gentleman, and he got into the driver seat. He turned on the car, and gave Y/N his phone so she can choose the music.
They arrived at the restaurant and like always, there were fans recording Charles and Y/N in the car, leaving the car, eating at the restaurant, talking, laughing, within the hour, Charles and Y/N were trending on Instagram, Twitter (X), and TikTok. As they waited for the check, Y/N was scrolling on TikTok when she found a video of her and Charles in the car.
“Charles, i think our ‘relationship’ went public.” Y/N said, showing him her phone. Charles’s eyes widened.
“Cant say I’m not surprised, I just thought videos wouldn’t be posted until later, you know?” Charles said and Y/N put her phone away.
“We haven’t even been ‘dating’ two hours and now everyone knows. You have no idea how sorry I am, I feel so bad for dragging you into this.” Y/N said.
“None of this wouldn’t have happened if Ruggero understood the word ‘no’ so you are fine, I’m glad I was able to help. But what was that thing you called me? ‘Muñeco’? Why did you call me that?” Charles asked.
“So ‘muñeco’ means ‘doll’, you have a pretty face, everyone says you’re good looking, you know you’re good looking. So muñeco just suits you, okay, especially with those dimples.” Y/N said, Charles smirked a little.
“You think I have a pretty face?” Charles asked teasingly.
“Great, I boosted your ego, like your head wasn’t big enough already. You literally said in one of those C2 challenges when Carlos had your photo that if you were a woman, you would be in love with yourself.” Y/N said. The waiter came in with the check and Y/N was going to take it but Charles was faster. “Dude, I told you I was gonna pay.”
“It would look good if you paid, there are cameras everywhere apparently.” Charles said, placing his credit card with the check. The waiter took the check.
“Then I’ll Apple Pay you. You gonna train today?” Y/N asked.
“Yes actually, come with me? You could post it to my story.” Charles asked. The waiter came back with Charles’s card.
“Yeah, I can do that. But we gotta go to Scuderia Ferrari for my car.” Y/N said, getting up from the table, Charles getting up as well.
“I think it can stay there overnight.” Charles said.
“You want me to spend the entire day with you? You’re insane.” Y/N commented as they were leaving the restaurant.
“Maybe, but it is to keep up appearances.” Charles said.
“I guess, but how long do we say we’ve been dating?” Y/N asked, getting into Charles’s car, he does the same.
“4 months seems good, don’t you think?” Charles asked.
“I guess that’s plausible.” Y/N said, Charles starts the car and drives off.
“Do you miss New York?” Charles asked.
“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.
“You travel a lot with us and you moved to Monaco for work, but do you ever miss New York? Your family? I know I miss my family when I’m away for races.” Charles said.
“I miss the food in New York, I can’t get decent tacos al pastor in Monaco, I gotta wait til the Mexican Grand Prix for them.” Y/N stated. “But yeah, I do miss New York.”
“You should ask for vacation time so you could go.” Charles said.
“I Don’t think they’ll give it to me, but thanks.” Y/N said.
For a week, Y/N and Charles have been spotted together everywhere, at races obviously, with Joris, Andrea, Doni, and Victoria, even with Charles’s family. Right now Y/N was with Charles at a club in Monaco. Y/N was at a table with Charles was at the bar getting drinks. Y/N noticed a girl flirting with Charles, touching his hand, before he pulled away with two drinks for him and Y/N.
“Charles, can we talk for a second?” Y/N asked.
“Sure, what’s on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asked, the nickname still causing butterflies in Y/N’s stomach.
“If you wanted to hook up with that girl, you can. I don’t want to have you tied down for a fake relationship.” Y/N said.
“I wasn’t interested in her at all, you know.” Charles commented.
“Really? What happens when the next girl that hits on you is more your type? I don’t want to hold you back, we are friends after all.” Y/N said.
“I have a confession to make.” Charles said, Y/N nodded her head for Charles to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while. Before you kissed me, it was a little crush, I thought it would have went away, but being with you this past week made my crush grow stronger. You don’t have to feel the same way, I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Y/N was shocked. Charles usually went for Instagram models, but he actually likes her, this was her dream come true.
“I’ve liked you for a while too, I just never thought you would see me that way.” Y/N said.
“I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?” Charles whispered, getting closer to Y/N, looking at her lips then back into her eyes, Y/N nodded, leaning in until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, until Charles gained more confidence to do more. They pulled away. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real, this time?” Charles asked.
“Yes I will.” Y/N responded, they kissed again.
The End
Was this good? I think it was good, the pacing is weird, but I had no idea where this was going, just saying. Was it just as good as “prince of Ferrari”? Probably not, but I hope y’all liked it, should I keep writing Charles Leclerc fanfics?
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charliemwrites · 2 days
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Three to Flee
Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol
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Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.
Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring
Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.
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Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.
The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.
“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.
Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.
Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.
“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”
Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”
All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.
“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”
Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”
Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”
Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”
Feral hums.
“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”
Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”
With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”
“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”
It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.
“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”
Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”
Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”
Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.
“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.
Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.
“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”
It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.
All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.
Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.
They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.
On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.
Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.
The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.
And then it all comes down to walking out the door.
The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…
“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.
All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.
They just left.
They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.
When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.
 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.
They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.
And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.
“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”
Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.
“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.
Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.
Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.
“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.
“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”
She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.
“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”
“You don’t want to.”
Her eyes well with tears. “No.”
Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.
“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”
Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”
And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.
Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.
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feelbokkie · 2 days
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i'll be here for you
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☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️
genre: sick fic, angst
pov: 2nd person
description: Seungmin can tell instantly from your voice that something is wrong, so he drops everything to take care of you.
pairing: bf!seungmin x gn!reader
warnings: hospitals, swearing, mentioning of food and eating, open ending, talking about weight, reference to death
word count: 3,054
a/n: allow me to be self indulgent and dramatic and over exaggerate for a moment.
©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
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Mong, mong. Mong, mong. 
You sluggishly pull your phone out of your pocket, sitting as you do so. You let out a long, shaky sigh before plastering on a smile and answering the phone. You’re not sure why. It’s not like he can see your face through the phone. But maybe smiling will trick the rest of your body into thinking everything is okay.
“My Seungminnie!” You cheer into the phone, your face winces in pain from the sudden movement.
“Hi Y/n,” You can picture the small smile that’s slowly creeping onto his face vividly. “Did you just get home?”
“No,” you lean your back against your headrest. “I got home earlier than I thought I would. I read the end time on my schedule wrong.”
You can hear the chaos in the background. Changbin’s voice booms over everyone as he yells about something to do with Minho and Hyunjin. You can make out Felix’s faint laughter too. “You should’ve called me.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt practice. If I called you, you would have worried. How’s dance practice?”
“Hmm, Minho hyung has glared at Chan hyung twice, put Hyunjin in a headlock, and threatened all of us with various cooking styles about six times. He’s going to be sending me to you as soup.”
“Soupmin doesn’t sound too bad. Tell him to send side dishes,”
“Speaking of which, did you have a good lunch today?”
“I did,” You lie. “What about you? Did Minho let you eat or is he punishing you guys for not picking up the choreography?”
“We nailed 2 songs so he treated us. I had kimchi-jjigae!”
“You’re going to turn into kimchi-jjigae at this rate. You had it almost every day this week.”
“You just said you’d like Soupmin! ...Ugh, hyung, get off,” you hear a loud slap and some more laughter through the phone. The background laughter and chatter quickly becomes distant. “Sorry, Chan hyung lives in my bubble. What did you have for lunch?”
Click!
You assume that Seungmin had enough of whatever is going on in the practice room and left to talk to you somewhere peaceful. “Just some leftovers... I had some rice from dinner a couple of days ago so I make kimchi fried rice with some chicken.”
Seungmin is quiet on the other end for a second, “What did you really have?”
“I just told you,” You sit up, shifting your phone to your other hand and pressing it against your ear again.
“You’re hiding something. A couple of days ago you said you had pasta. What did you have for lunch today?”
“Kimchi—“ You double down.
Seungmin lets out a loud sigh, “This is a silly thing to lie about. You know that, right?”
“I’m not—“ You pause as the pain in your stomach reminds you that it's still there. “Fine, I just had some soda for lunch.”
“That’s all?”
“I told you, I wasn’t working as long as I thought—“
“You’re not eating properly and I can tell by your voice that you aren’t sleeping properly... Are you sick?”
“Probably,” You give up. When Seungmin has his mind set on something, it's difficult to argue with him.
“What do you mean ‘probably?’”
You bite your lower lip and run your free hand through your hair. “It’s nothing,”
“What’s going on?” It's subtle, the way his voice wavers with worry. If you weren't tuned into most of his habits, you would have missed it.
“Seungmin—“ You try to say calmly, wincing in pain as you lean back down against your headrest.
“Don’t try to lie or play it off. Something is wrong,” His voice raises an octave. You're not sure you can remember the last time he even slightly raised his voice at you. Even in a joking manner.
“…Fine." You squeeze your eyes shut, your current position only worsening your pain. "I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”
“What do you mean?”
You pause, contemplating how much you actually want to tell him right now. “My stomach gets upset. It’s fine though, probably just a bug.”
“And it’s causing you to not eat or sleep?”
“It only hurts after I eat. Well, it hurts in general now but if I eat it hurts a lot. Except for pho for some reason. But I can’t eat that all day every day,” You try to sound light and calm so that he doesn't worry more than he already is.
“You said 'now.' How long has it been hurting?”
“A while,” You mumble, playing with the hem of your shirt.
There's more movement in the background. You hear a faint scoff before you hear Seungmin huff as he presses the phone to his ear again.
“Have you gone to your doctor?”
“I called. They can’t see me until next month. But they said they’ll call me if a closer appointment comes.”
“Urgent care?” He suggests.
“They’ll just have me sit in the waiting room for hours and then spend 5 minutes with me before prescribing me antibiotics. Which is good and all but I know that's going to do fuck all if I can't even eat with the pills.”
“If it’s that bad, they’ll prescribe you something else.”
“Unlikely,”
You can practically hear the gears turning in Seungmin's head on the other end while he tries to come up with another solution for you. You're almost certain he's come up with all the same solutions that you have, none with promising enough results.
“What about the emergency room?" He tries again.
“For a stomach bug?” You chuckle, holding your stomach to attempt to control the apparent throbbing your stomach.
“A stomach bug wouldn't last that long. And you're not eating or sleeping. I don't know what else to do." His voice cracks. He's not trying to mask the panic in his voice for your sake anymore. He sounds as scared as you feel inside.
You squeeze your eyes shut again and rub your free hand over it. "Let's say I agree with you taking me to the emergency room. We'll still be there for hours--"
"I'm a pro idol. Plus my mom is a doctor,"
You've never known Seungmin to abuse his privilege as an idol, even at times when he should have. Especially when he should have. The fact that he's even insinuating that he'll use that part of his life if it'll help you is both heartwarming and intimidating.
"Don't involve your mom in this--Look, it's fine. I'm fine."
"It's not--" You hear Seungmin mumble a string of swear words that you're not sure you've heard him utter before.
"Seungmin? Hello?"
The background noise starts up again. This time, you hear Jisung scream singing loudly in the background as Hyunjin laughs. You hear some rustling in the background and finally a zipper. You pick up Chan's concerned voice, low and deep as chaos ensues in the background. You hear Seungmin tell him that he has to go, 'a family emergency' he explains. And then you hear Minho's soft voice as the noise in the background dies down. And then more rustling and zippers before the faint yet familiar jingling of keys.
"Seungmin!" You call out again, hoping he can hear you now that the room is quieter.
You hear a faint, 'one second' from Seungmin before he clears his throat, "I'll be there in about 20 minutes. Get your stuff ready."
Click
He hangs up before you can even try to argue with him that he doesn't need to leave practice to check on you. You let out a long shakey breath as you toss your phone on the bed and let yourself slump over from frustration.
***
"I can't believe you called your mom," You mutter under your breath.
Your arms rest firmly across your chest as you sit up on the examination bed in the emergency room. Seungmin sits at the foot of the bed, watching your every move. Like you would try to bolt if his eyes left you for even a second. You've thought about it.
"If you saw how pale you looked, you would have done the same thing. What did you want me to do?"
He looks so unlike himself. This is the first time you've seen him so disheveled, even after a dance practice. His usually neat hair points in all different directions from him running his hands through it. His windbreaker is zipped all the way up to hide his wrinkly, sweaty t-shirt. His face is darker than it normally is, showcasing whatever is running through his mind.
"Not call your mom!" You whisper. The emergency room beds don't offer you much privacy, only a curtain separating you from other beds. There's been a man screaming in pain in one of the makeshift rooms since you walked in. "I told you specifically not to,"
The sterile stench and bright lights from the room are starting to make your head spin. You feel bad taking up a bed when you know some people need to be examined more than you.
"I'm sorry but if you saw me in the state you're in, trust me, you would be calling anyone who could help. You lost a lot of weight too. I don't think I can even pinch your cheeks without it hurting you."
"You're overreacting," You scoff, rolling your eyes.
"You look like a sickly Victorian child,"
"Seung--"
Swoosh
Seungmin quietly gets up from his spot on the bed and stands next to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. Your doctor from earlier walks back in, nurse behind him this time. Her forced smile does nothing to distract from the dark bags under her eyes. You can tell how exhausted she is just by looking at her. She looks how your brain feels.
"I just finished talking with my attending. We both agree that you may have an ulcer. However, we cannot be sure without further testing. You have a few options but we recommend..."
You started to zone out, relieved that their first suspicion is an ulcer and not something more serious. An ulcer is treatable and the fatality rate is relatively low, based on what you read when you first started feeling sick.
"...admit you."
"Excuse me?" You tilt your head to the side, confused about what you just heard. You feel Seungmin's grip on your shoulder tightens, nails practically digging into your shoulder.
"Like I said, we do have a few other concerns so we believe it's best to admit you while we run a few more tests to be certain." The doctor repeats.
"But you just said that it's most likely an ulcer." You uncross your arms, your hand instinctively reacting for Seungmin. He grabs your hand with his free hand, refusing to let go of your shoulder.
"Yes, but some of the symptoms you're experiencing also align with other ailments so we would like to admit you for a couple of days while we do thorough tests," she explains, flipping through the papers on her clipboard.
You turn to Seungmin, whose face is clamped shut and eyes are fixed on the doctor. He's been doing well, keeping his composure for your sake, but now he looks as pale as you probably do. You try to focus your breathing so that maybe, just maybe, your heart will stop threatening to pound out of your chest. If it does, however, you're in the perfect place.
Seungmin's hand slides down from your shoulder to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he continues to talk to the doctor. You can't hear what he and the doctor are talking about, your ears are acutely aware of the swooshing of the blood from your heart.
You wanted it to be nothing. It's one of the main reasons why you put it off so long, playing it off as common stomach issues so you wouldn't have to go to the doctors and have them find something wrong with you. But it's inevitable now. There is something.
"It'll be okay," Seungmin whispers. Normally, you can read him like a book, but right now, you can't tell if he's reassuring you or himself.
~~~
You stare at the words on your phone, absorbing none of them as music plays loudly from Seungmin's headphones. You can't even register what song is playing right now, your mind too full with thousands of thoughts plaguing every quiet second you have.
Seungmin left you his headphones and phone charger before he left to get you some things from home. He stayed a while, being a quiet yet comforting presence while you got admitted. He sat, holding your hand as a nurse drew your blood, humming softly to distract you for a little bit.
He didn't want to leave. Not at first, but the two of you quickly realized that you couldn't ask anyone to get what you needed from your apartment. Seungmin has the only remaining key and you argued that it would be too much to ask one of the boys to come to the hospital to pick it up, get what you need from your room, and then come back to the hospital. So Seungmin went himself.
You were put into a private room, which you know is probably Seungmin's doing, but right now, you would prefer to be in a shared room. Just for the comfort of knowing that you're not the only person in the room.
Hot tears roll down your face, as your mind plays all the worse possible scenarios like a movie. You can't skip it, each scene is worse than the first, stressing you out more. You rest your head on the TV tray, trying to get your body to stop shaking and the images from popping into your head.
"Y/n?" You feel the cool air rushing to your ears and Seungmin's panicked voice, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
He sets down the bags in the chair next to your bed and tries to get you to lift your head so he can see your face.
"N-no. I mean, yeah it hurts, but that's not why I'm crying." You whimper, lifting your head and looking at Seungmin through tears.
You can't see it, how red and swollen Seungmin's eyes are. Even if you did, you know he'd tell you a little white lie about allergies. You hate how this is affecting him. It's one of the reasons why you didn't tell him in the first place. Because you knew he wouldn't be able to do anything to help, no matter how much he wanted to. You don't even want to think how badly he'll suffer if it's something serious.
"It's okay to be scared," Seungmin whispers. The remainder of the sentence lingers in the air between the two of you. Unspoken but understood.
It's okay to be scared. I am too.
"What if it's something serious? And I waited too long and,"
Another unfinished sentence that doesn't need to be completed for the two of you to understand, this one heavier than the last. Its weight quickly soaking up all the oxygen and light in the room, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe it's whatever has been slowly killing you from the inside finally putting you out of your misery.
"Maybe it's a parasite," Seungmin suggests, his normally steady voice breaking. You finally look up to face your boyfriend. You're bet with the top of his head as he's turned away from you, looking at the ceiling. His hair is neater than it was before, still slightly wet. He's now wearing a light grey hoodie with matching sweatpants.
"That's disgusting," You sniffle, a smile smile appearing on your face.
Seungmin, still not looking at you, lets out a loud and long sigh. "But you're smiling, right?"
"Because you're an idiot,"
"A smile is a smile. I'll take it."
Seungmin tilts his head down and rubs his sleeve-covered hands over his face before turning his attention to you. His eyes are glassy and red. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach at the sight of him.
"It'll be okay," You whisper, taking Seungmin's hand in yours. It's more for your comfort than his.
"Whatever it is, I'll be here. Okay?" Seungmin says loudly, squeezing your hand tightly. "So lay your burdens on me,"
"I can't ask you to do that. You're getting ready for a comeback--"
"You think I would be able to focus on that if you're...if something is wrong with you?"
"I've seen you seen you separate Kim Seungmin the idol from Kim Seungmin my boyfriend."
"Yeah, when we're having a fight or something. But not for things like this. I already talked to Chan hyung. I didn't tell him everything, but he understands that you need me right now."
"Seungmin..." Your voice falters, any argument you could think of dies in your throat.
But he's right, you do need him. You've been shouldering the burden of your pain alone for too long, you're not sure how much longer you can last. He was gone for one hour and you completely fell apart. And that was just at the thought that it might be something serious.
"I have to call my parents," You breathe, calming down a little bit.
"I can help you with that," Seungmin replies softly.
"And I need to let my boss know I can't come in."
"I'll help with that too,"
"...But right now, I kinda just want to lay down with you,"
"I can do that too," Seungmin gently climbs into the hospital bed next to you, carefully watching the IV in your hand.
Once he's settled, he pulls your head down onto his chest. You freeze for a moment. It's not usual for Seungmin to initiate physical contact like this. Especially when a nurse can walk in at any moment. But the slight tremble of his body and the pounding in his chest let you know that he probably needs this more than you, so you relax into his touch.
"I love you, Y/n," He mumbles out, just like he did the first time he said it.
"I love you too, Seungmin," You breathe into his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.
"I'm here," He says loudly this time. "It'll be okay,"
"I know,"
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 day
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[Two-way Trap] Simon “Ghost” Riley*F!Reader
Simon helps you when you tell him your boyfriend cheats on you, or that’s what you both thought.
cw: Simon and Reader aren’t too sane I guess
Simon hugs you tightly when you appear at his door, sobbing as you tell him someone sent you a video anonymously, of your boyfriend tangled with another woman, kissing each other so passionately that you feel nauseous.
He invites you to come in, brews a hot tea for you, lets you have a nice shower since you don’t want to go back to your shared flat with your boyfriend, makes you covered in his scent, drapes on a big hoodie that marks you as his secretly.
He coos softly as you, telling you that shitty man doesn’t deserve such a perfect girl like you, putting on comforting music so you can relax more against his body.
He leads you to the guest room, puts on a night lamp for you, and after you tuck yourself in the blanket, he promises he will always be by your side before he waves you goodnight. He wishes he could just put you on his bed and treat you like a princess, but take everything slow, he reminds himself when you look up at him with those innocent eyes.
He opens his phone when he’s back to his room, sending a message to your boyfriend — or his friend — thanking him for his cooperation, so that he can finally have his angel all to himself.
- - - - - -
You fake the tears when Simon opens his door, words about how your boyfriend who only got together 2 months cheats on you, and you receive a video from an unknown person proving his unholiness.
You manage not to respond too fast when Simon asks you to get in his house, and smears your body with his shower gel. You have the same brand at home because of your boyfriend, but it just feels different when you’re using Simon’s. Burying your face and sniffing at his hoodie when Simon turns around to bring you some tea.
You record the words he says with the phone in your pocket when you cling to him on the sofa, when he reassures you everything will be alright, that you have him and he will help you move out. Melting into arms, hoping he presumes you’re just too relaxed under the music, not that you try to cross the line between you and him.
You let Simon walk you to the guest room when it’s time to sleep. You lie on the bed, a bit unsatisfied that you aren’t sleeping on his bed, the guest room lacks his smell, which you already start missing as he stands at the door and wishes you sweet dreams, but take things slow, you remind yourself when he looks at you with such tender eyes.
You text the woman you hired to seduce your boyfriend after Simon shuts the door, thanking her for doing her job so well, send her the money with an extra tip and close the screen, smiling at the fact that you can finally have the man that should only be yours.
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harmonicakai · 1 day
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Mr. Know It All
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Pairing: Taehyun x Reader
Summary: When you finally find yourself sleeping over at Taehyun’s dorm, you start to wonder if you and him could ever be something more serious.
Tropes: friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, fluff, college AU, tutor!taehyun
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), LOTS of overthinking
A/N: This is unedited and I wrote it all in one go lol <3
"And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before" —Songbird, Fleetwood Mac
Taehyun doesn’t know how to tell you that things aren't and never have been casual between the two of you.
It started one rainy afternoon after a study session in the library. The two of you had run through the deluge into the safety of his dorm room, and when he peeled off his wet clothes to change, you didn’t look away.
So, one semester later, right after you’ve finished moaning his name, he struggles to find the words to ask you to stay the night.
He hates watching you gather up your things and leave, refusing to be held by him for even a moment after both of you have finished what you came here for.
“Y/N,” he manages to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. You turn away from the door, your hair still messy, eyeliner smudged. “It’s raining.”
It’s code for “I love you. Please don’t leave.”
“Right,” you say, glancing out the window. Lightning flashes throughout the small dorm, with the crash of thunder following shortly after. Only a fool would leave in this weather. “I don’t have an umbrella.”
“You can stay,” Taehyun says, patting the bed beside him. You nod, crossing over and settling under the warm blanket. Despite how often you’re here in this position, it’s never under these circumstances.
“It seems like the rain is always bringing us together,” you laugh. You’re careful not to say anything loud enough for his roommate to hear through the walls, although in retrospect, you’ve never considered your volume when in bed with Taehyun before.
It’s awkward. Before any of this started, he was just the guy who helped you out with your math problem sets. Add in the perfect distraction from actually sitting down and having a conversation with each other, and you barely knew anything about him.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he offers, already sliding off of the twin sized mattress with a pillow in his arms. “I don’t want to bother you.”
You note how between sleeping next to you and on the floor, he’s decided that the latter is more bearable. 
Usually, the two of you are in perfect sync. He knows how to please you better than any other guy you’ve been with, making sure to do things the exact way that you like. Sometimes, you worry that he doesn’t think the same of you.
Are there other girls? You don’t see him as often as you’d like to, but maybe he’s just busy with other things. Kang Taehyun, the chronic overachiever and golden boy of SNU. What would he even want with a girl like you?
Surely, he spends all of his free time studying and going to band practice, you tell yourself.
At this point, your racing thoughts are never going to let you fall asleep.
“Taehyun,” you say, hoping you aren’t waking him up. You haven’t taken your eyes off the ceiling since he moved to the floor, half out of guilt that he’s even down there, and half worried you’ll catch yourself staring at him while he sleeps.
“Yeah?” he answers, his voice low. You wonder what it sounds like when he sings with his band. Maybe, if he asks you to, you’ll go to one of his concerts soon.
You hesitate, wondering whether or not he’ll say yes. “Can you come back up here?”
When you hear him gather his things and stand up, you finally let out the breath that you've been holding. Within seconds, he’s climbing in next to you, his body warm and strong.
“Are you cold?” he asks, pulling the covers up over your collarbone. “Sorry. I think the heater is broken and I haven’t had time to call maintenance.”
“Yeah, it’s a little chilly,” you confirm, although the temperature is fine. In fact, it might even be a little too hot.
“I can, uh,” Taehyun starts. You’ve never heard him stutter before. “I can hold you, if you want. That might help.”
“That would be nice,” you say, mentally cringing at how formal the exchange is. He positions himself behind you, snaking his arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back.
“Is this better?” he asks, his voice still shaky. You worry that this level of intimacy is making him uncomfortable, but he nestles his head over your shoulder in a way that makes you finally stop overthinking. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.
“Yes,” is all you manage to squeak out. He lets out a quiet laugh in relief before pressing a kiss into your shoulder blade. The small gesture sends a shockwave through your body.
“You’re cute,” he says, snuggling into you further. Is this really what things would be like if you didn’t run away after every hook up? It seems like second nature to him, making you question whether it actually means anything.
Still, he doesn’t bother to touch you now like he’s always dying to after you show up to class in a short skirt or send him a risky text when you know he’s running office hours. 
“I can hear you thinking,” he mutters, startling you. You break away from his grasp to turn and face him, his piercing eyes already fixed on you. “Is something wrong, Y/N?”
“No,” you attempt to lie, although your face says otherwise. Taehyun feels you stiffen in his arms, your gaze locked on his.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he concedes, his voice icy and monotone. “But I know something is wrong.”
How could he know that? What could Taehyun possibly know about you besides what you look like with your clothes off?
When he first got assigned to tutor you, he had scolded you for being late, and again for being unorganized. If you don’t open up to him now, he might actually revert to the same cold demeanor as before. 
Even worse, he might stop meeting up with you. With the school year ending next month, you’ll have no excuse to see each other anymore. The thought of being alone again brings you to tears.
Taehyun’s expression softens at the sight of you breaking down. “I’m sorry,” you cry, burying your face into his chest. His hand reaches up to stroke your hair, the other gently rubbing your back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.”
“I do,” he sighs. You pull back just enough to look up at him through teary eyes. “I pushed things between us too far. I should’ve known that you wanted to keep things casual. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You stare at him, awestruck at how wrong he is. You want nothing more than to know anything and everything about him.
Still, when you search for the right words to explain this, your brain draws a blank. The only thing you can do is cup his face and kiss him, your nerves finally settling when he melts into you.
You’ve kissed him hundreds of times by now, but this one feels like the first time.
It feels like forever before he pulls away from you, a wide grin on his face. “Please, please, please let me take you out to dinner.”
“Okay,” you smile back, unable to contain your giddiness. “I’d like that very much.”
“Tomorrow night?” he proposes. His eagerness makes you giggle. He might be the busiest person on campus, but he’ll clear his entire schedule if it means he gets to spend time with you.
“Sure,” you agree. “It’s a date. If we ever manage to get out of bed, that is.”
Taehyun laughs a little before pulling you into another kiss. By now, the rain has stopped, but you aren’t going anywhere.
—————-
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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3
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thewriterwithnoplan · 6 hours
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Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)
Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.
[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]
Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)
Word Count: 1650
Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)
Masterlist
There was something wrong with your soulmate.
Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.
“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.
“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”
“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”
“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”
“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”
“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”
Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”
“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”
“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”
“Since we were eight?”
“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”
You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”
“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”
She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.
“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.
“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”
“Real romantic, dude.”
“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”
“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”
“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”
“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”
“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”
“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”
“Ten-thirty-ish?”
“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”
“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”
“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”
“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”
“I’m not buying you lunch.”
“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.
Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”
“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”
“Always. Mine or yours?”
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You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.
So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.
“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”
You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”
She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”
“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”
“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”
You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”
“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”
You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  
She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”
“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”
“Your soulmate is wounded.”
“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”
She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”
“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”
“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”
“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”
You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”
Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”
“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”
“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”
“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”
“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”
“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”
Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”
You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”
“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”
“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”
Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”
“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”
“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”
“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”
“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”
You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”
“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”
“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”
“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.
You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”
“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.
“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”
“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”
“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”
You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.
(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.04.24)
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chirpsythismorning · 3 days
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Fun fact: In the original pitch for Stranger Things, El had a little brother.
After being rejected by almost 20 studios for the Montauk pilot, the Duffers were finally green-lit by Netflix. It was at this time that they began casting and then writing the first season officially, which included reworking a lot of that first episode.
This led to the removal of the brother reference, and with it, removing any sort of arc El could have had about her apparent brother.
But the thing about this moment, is that it might not have been scrapped entirely...
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Going into the final season, no one can explain why or how El recognized Will back in 1x02. And while there are plenty of things on the show that are left unexplained, with a small portion likely left that way with the intention to uncover it later, what sets this moment apart from the rest is that there are very few possibilities here.
Because for starters, the story presents El's ability to see people in the void in s1 as requiring either a picture of that person for reference, or having met that person before.
But when El see's this picture of Will, she's never met him before. Or maybe she has, but we wouldn't know because they never showed us. They could have just not done this scene at all, given that it's clearly a copy/paste/edit of something scrapped from the pitch. Or they could have even still included it, but explained it.
One explanation could be that the lab had shown El a picture of Will before, similar to what they did with the Russian agent they wanted to spy on. But then that begs to question, why would the lab show El a picture of Will? Why would they want to see what he was doing? That alone is incriminating in and of itself, implying that Will is more connected to the lab than we realize.
The only other, and frankly most likely explanation, would be that El stumbled across Will at some point on her journey between escaping the lab and Will going missing. This is actually something that happens in The Other Side comic, which explores all the things Will may have experienced during his time in the Upside Down.
Though it’s worth noting the comics aren’t technically canon, and I highly doubt they would outright spoil everything in relation to Will’s time there, years before it was intended to be revealed. But still, let's humor this for a moment given that I do think Will's time in the UD is going to be very relevant in s5, which means it's highly likely they will finally address how exactly El saw him.
Basically, in the comic, Will see’s El walking through the woods, almost apparition like, glowing as she passes by, while also sporting the Benny’s burgers shirt. This means they would have crossed passed within a short span of time, between when El escaped Benny’s when the agents arrived, but before she was found by the boys.
Though it’s worth noting that we’re seeing this all from Will’s perspective. This means from the UD, Will was capable of seeing El on the other side, despite them being on different sides. And not only that, but she also looks back at him.
What confuses me about this, is that it doesn’t make sense for El to be in the woods, only to randomly decide to pop in to the void for a moment. She was trying to escape the lab and everything that came with it. I doubt she had any desire to lurk back there for some reason, not until someone encouraged her to. Not to mention, it would make no sense for her to go there and see Will if she wasn't even looking for him in the first place. And so this would mean Will and El could see each other, with Will being in the UD, and El being on the other side.
While it does seem pretty far off, given that you would think Will and El wouldn't be able to see each other from different sides, it is true in the story that El not only recognizes Will, but knows that he is in danger. She mentions that he is hiding specifically.
Which means she has likely seen him within the last 24 hours regardless.
This, in combination with Will being able to respond to El in the void at the end of the season in Castle Byers, when no one else outside of Terry and flayed-Billy have been able to, seems to imply that there is indeed something special about Will that makes him capable of communicating with El from the UD. Not only that, but El also seems to have an ability to be in this constant knowing state of how Will is doing, without even checking again to confirm. She's just certain of it. And she seems terrified about it.
Going forward, El never uses a picture of Will to find him. She never did. And more often than not, they don’t show us what she see’s either, not until the very end. And that’s the moment they reveal that he was able to communicate with her.
Again, there was really no reason to have El recognize Will. If anything it complicates things. But the fact that they chose to introduce this concept, with a scene from the original pitch that was related to El’s younger brother, with her pointing at his name cryptically, startling Benny, only to revamp it and have El not say anything at all while pointing at the picture of Will, startling Mike… It just really makes you stop and think.
Which brings me to the other aspect of this that might have people doubting, which is that El’s brother was originally younger than her.
We know Will is not younger than El, so how could this apply to him?
Well, it might be helpful to consider that in the original script, El was actually 10 years old, while the boys were always 12. Meaning that for some reason, they decided to age her up to the age of the boys, aka the same age as Will…
Ever since @erikiara80 shared this brother discovery with me, I have been sort of reeling. It then led to other little discoveries of changes they made between Montauk and Stranger Things.
It’s important to understand that the Montauk bible and the original script precedes what we ended up with in the final product, with it finally changing and evolving months, maybe even a year since that original vision. Even casting occurred before writing started for the first season. We know this because casting announcements were made in June and August of 2015, with writing not starting until August going into early 2016, simultaneously while they were filming.
And believe it or not, what I've discovered is that a lot of the changes they made between their original plans and what we see in the final product, have to do with not only Willel, but also Byler.
If you've read the original script for Montauk, you'll know that Mike's crush on Jennifer Hayes was focused on right from the jump, along with the birthmark on his face being focused on, which was the main cause of the bullying he experienced.
This has actually been talked about recently, and some of the claims people make do fit with what I am genuinely starting to consider here, which is that the initial plan for what makes Mike an outcast shifted.
I think when they completed casting, and started actually deep diving into what they wanted this world to look like, both from a short-term and long-term standpoint, they were presented with some pretty interesting discoveries, arguably already hiding in their initial plans without realizing it.
And this is where it sort of becomes a 'chicken or the egg' situation. Because which one came first? Byler or Willel?
I can't say for certain, because obviously this is all just speculation. But in the case that Willel came first, I think Byler would come very naturally after that.
The Duffers themselves are twins. Then they hire Noah, who is a twin. Then they're thinking and planning for El's past and how her family all fits into this, and they're thinking... wait a damn minute... We could totally Star Wars this bitch!
And then when they think it couldn't get any better, they uncover another layer that they hadn't planned or really considered in their initial plans.
While Will was always going to have sexual identity issues according to the Montauk bible, meaning that the writing process for him likely involved sitting down imagining scenarios that encapsulated this arc for Will from the beginning, they were simultaneously now finding very interesting aspects of Mike's character that made it hard not to at least consider the possiblity that Mike is not exactly straight.
Just think about it. The Byers and Wheelers are basically polar opposites on the spectrum of what a family looks like. While Will's discovery and acceptance of his queerness is interesting to explore because he comes from a low-income, single-mom household, all while having been bullied for years based on his perceived queerness, he also has a mother and brother constantly reinforcing that they will accept him no matter what. They've been sort of hitting us over the head with it for years, and so it wouldn't be very satisfying for his entire arc to merely lead up to something we've known all along. It's pretty much a given at this point.
On the other side of the spectrum, Mike comes from a more upper-middle class family at the end of a cul-de-sac, more aligned with what a nuclear family looks like. Mike's family is also presented as being more conservative, and while Karen does give that very queer-coded speech to Mike in s1 (I'm convinced they only wrote this after deciding to explore queer-coding more heavily with Mike), it also comes with comments from Ted and even still Karen that hint that they are probably not as open-minded and accepting as Will's family is to him. Which means Mike's arc would be a lot more about acceptance around him from his loved ones who we have been led to believe might not be as accepting of his queerness in contrast to Will.
And so as they're putting this story together, and they're being presented with something very interesting. Two similar experiences that play out in different ways because of the characters circumstances.
Will goes missing, and his twin sister with a buzzcut pops up and has the ability to help them find Will.
This leads to several moments where El is being compared to as not only a boy, but Will as well.
Now suddenly, their initial plans to have Mike's arc be about having a girl be interested in him and to hopefully have his first kiss and feel like less of a loser, starts to look a lot like what the experience a queer kid in his position might encounter growing up in the environment that he did.
And if you don't want to take my word for it, just hear the Duffer's themselves hinting at what they initially planned for Mike and the fact that it changed.
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The changes don't stop there.
Believe it or not, 'It was a seven', did not exist in the initial pitch. When the boys went outside bickering over Nancy, they leave right after that.
Another thing that changed from the first script, was Scott Clarke's introduction:
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And so you might be thinking, who cares? What does that have to do with anything?
Well, it's interesting because the line we end up with on the show is arguably one of the most on the nose Twelvegate proofs to date. Mind you, this is from the first episode:
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Why chuck the original version, which was arguably more interesting and fascinating in terms of it hinting at the mysteriousness surrounding this story, only to replace it with him listing off tips about their upcoming test?
Well, I think it's the irony of it all. Here Mr. Clarke is practically telling us where to look to figure stuff out for ourselves what is going on, with all the kids filing out and ignoring him...
I relate to Scott a litttle too much in this shot here, any time I try to drop Willel evidence.
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And the changes go on, as they obviously would.
Things like Terry Ives not even being El's mom, but actually a man who more so aligns with the characterization of Murray.
And one very interesting one I almost overlooked was in Hopper's introduction, where instead of a kids drawing done by who we assume to be Sarah, we actually see a picture on the wall of him and his wife and daughter... Interesting that they decided to switch it something that is a lot less definitive in presenting what Hopper's past looked like...
If you've made it this far, congratulations.
If you still think I'm out of my mind, just remember that El was going to have a brother in the original script, but they scrapped the scene and gave a near identical one to introduce her connection to Will instead 😘
#byler#stranger things#willel twins#twelvegate#montauk#as you can see#i am out of my mind#and i'm okay with that#i've spent the last couple months trying to make a video going over all the willel twin evidence#and i can't decide if it's even possible to do without going over an hour#like there is just so much shit that fits too perfectly into this family being ripped apart by mind control and time shenanigans#i hope to have it done soon#trying to make it less than 20 minutes#but it's probably going to end up being closer to an hour#especially with this stuff from the montauk pitch being added to the mix now#anyways#willel and byler are the curtain behind the curtain#if you are open to one of them#you are bound to stumble across the other#and they don't want that to happen#stay tuned for the inevitable twin imagery to continue in s5 related to willel leading up to the big reveal#bc it's arguably the most consistent thing about this damn show#and tbh this all just makes the queer-coding for mike in s1 a lot more concrete to me#them exploring will's queerness through his dad's expectations for him to do more 'manly' things like play baseball#and jonathan saying he shouldn't like things just bc people telll him he's supposed to#how they connect that narratively with the boys being at a baseball field when mike's being pressured about his supposed feelings for el#with the bullies showing up and literally being homophobic seconds later#the fact that jennifer hayes did in fact exist in the original pilot and was the girl mike had a crush on#only for them to scrap that and just make it about her having a crush on will...#never once introducing this idea of mike liking her...
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five-rivers · 2 days
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vacation in camazotz
@rgbyshipper101
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“... keeps going like this, he’s going to end up dropping the house into another dimension again.”  Danny sighed heavily.  
“Well, that’s not really fair,” said Sam.  
“Huh?  What do you mean?” asked Danny, blinking blankly at her.  “That’s definitely a thing he did.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t totally him.”
“He was pretty tangential, actually,” said Tucker.  “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling us?”
“I… haven’t I told you about the time he sent the house into a parallel dimension?”
“You didn’t exactly need to.  We were all there.”
“No,” said Danny.  “What are you guys talking about?”
“Yes, we were.  The whole town was there,” said Tucker.  
“You know,” prompted Sam.  “Vlad pawning the Ring of Rage off on Valerie, you pulling Fright Knight’s sword out of the ground, Pariah Dark.”
“Yeah, you’re more related to us winding up in the Ghost Zone than your dad is.”
“Ooohhhh, I get what’s going on.  You’re thinking of a completely different time.  The time I’m talking about is way back in sixth grade.”
Sam’s gamer cave (she did not call it that, but that’s what it was) went quiet enough that the faint hum of the computer screens could be heard.  
“Your dad sent you guys to another dimension when you were in sixth grade,” said Sam, spinning her chair around and pointing a painted fingernail at Danny.
“Yeah,” said Danny.
“Three years before your whole…”  She waved her hand at him.  “Thing.”
“Before you got zapped, she means,” said Tucker.
“Yeah.  So?”
“So,” said Sam, “why is that, even though you knew alternate dimensions were a thing and your dad could get you there, you didn’t believe in ghosts and were okay with walking into the portal?”
“Okay, but, look,” said Danny.  He put his controller to one side.  “That’s– That’s a false equivalency.”
“Spending time with Jazz, I see,” said Tucker.  He was now the only one still playing the game.  
“Shut up,” said Danny.  “I know stuff without Jazz telling me about it.  But just because one unbelievable thing is true, that doesn’t mean that all unbelievable things are true.  Besides, the dimension we wound up in was way different from the Ghost Zone.  Had nothing to do with ghosts at all.  Definitely not something you look at and then go, ah, yes, ghosts exist.”
“But you knew that other dimensions existed.  Even if there weren’t ghosts on the other side of the portal, you still could’ve realized that it could take you to another dimension.”
“But it didn’t do that.  It just half killed me.”
“By opening a portal to another dimension in you.”
“And?”
Sam glared at him.  “You’re just playing dumb at this point.”
“Neither of you are playing anything, and I think at this point we can just say that Danny’s dumb.”  Tucker’s computer let out a little jingle as his character completed a quest.  
“Hey!  Most of their stuff doesn’t work,” said Danny, exasperated.  
“But you were messing around with something that they had made work before.  Didn’t you think that could be dangerous?  Or have consequences?  Drop you in yet a different dimension?  Something?”
“They said it didn’t work.  I believed them.  And you guys kept hassling me about it.”
“Someone skipped out on the ‘don’t give in to peer pressure’ PSAs,” said Tucker, singsong.  
“You are not innocent here, Tucker!  We’ve all done dumb stuff.  Can we drop it?  I thought we were playing games today, not playing ‘gang up on Danny for stuff we all did.’”
“Fine,” said Sam.  She picked her controller back up.  Danny picked his up a second later. 
They continued playing the game.  
Then Sam dropped her controller again, this time in her lap.  “Okay, actually, this is going to bother the heck out of me if I don’t know.  How did your Dad drop the house in an alternate dimension?”
“And what was it like?” added Tucker.  He, of course, kept his eyes on the game.  
“What was it like…” said Danny, contemplative.  He made his character run around in circles.  “How to explain?”
“Start with how you got there,” said Sam.  “Go from there.”
“Okay.  Well.  It started off– It was pretty normal.  You know.”
“Uh, no,” said Tucker.  “Sending your house to another dimension is not normal.”
“Normal for them.  For my parents.”
“Define normal here.  Like, describe it,” said Tucker.  
“Working on the portal.”
Sam let out a slow, exasperated sigh.  “Really, Danny?”
“Well, it was that or weapons.  Do you think their weapons teleported us to another dimension?”
“They could’ve.  The bazooka does,” said Tucker.  
“Fair,” said Danny.  “But, like, they were working on the portal, but then they were going over some of the math - it was wrong, obviously - and they saw that there was, like, there was a, um.  There was an ‘interesting result.’  Supposedly, distance fell out of the equation if you had the right inputs.  Something like that.”
“Which means… what?” asked Sam.  
“They thought they could make a teleporter.”
“What!”  Tucker finally whirled away from his monitor.  “They have a teleporter?  They made a teleporter?”
“No.  That’s the whole point.  No teleporter.  They messed it up.  But, like, they built what they thought was a teleporter.  And, of course, as soon as they built it, they had to use it.  Mom wanted to do small tests, sending an apple back and forth or something, but Dad decided to jump right into teleporting the entire house, because it was vacation time.”
“Yeah, okay, that sounds like your dad,” said Tucker.  
“Doesn’t it?  Which is why I’m worried now, because it’s the same thing all over again, he keeps getting too excited and then doesn’t slow down to make sure things work the way they’re supposed to.”
“You have no right to criticize that, Mr. Walks Into a Portal and Dies,” said Sam.  
“I think I’m the only one who does have the right to criticize it.”
“And the dimension?” asked Tucker.  “I want to know about the alternate dimension.”
“Right,” said Danny.  “Well, when Dad ‘teleported’ us, we knew things were wrong pretty much right away.  You guys have read a Wrinkle in Time, right?���
“Sure,” said Sam.  
“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “It was assigned last year, wasn’t it?”
“Right, so, you know the planet with the brain?  It was– It was kind of like that.”  His character died and he sighed.  “I suck at multitasking.  It wasn’t even just the stuff, it was, like, the air was flat.  The texture of everything was wrong.  Everything was… fake?  Like a performance, except it was the whole world.  Everyone just had these smiles on their faces but they were… empty.”
Sam propped her head up on her fist.  “Your parents sent you to play outside and didn’t notice any of that, didn’t they?”
“They did.  But they did notice stuff.  Like, all the houses being the same, the creepy sky–”
“The sky was creepy?”
“Super creepy.  It was like.  Segmented.  Triangles.  Like we were inside a pyramid.  And all the roofs were also pyramids, now that I think about it.  Just, pyramids everywhere.  Really pointy ones.  Oh!  And gravity was also a pyramid.”
“What?” asked Sam.  
“Gravity was a pyramid.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It was a pyramid.  Gravity.”
“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got this,” said Tucker.  “What shape is gravity here?”
“It’s round,” said Danny, “duh.”
“It’s round, so there you go, Sam,” said Tucker.  
“It is round,” said Danny.  “Like, gravitational fields, they’re round.  But they were pyramids there.”
“Wow,” said Sam.  “I wouldn’t have expected that.  Pyramids.”
“See?  Ghost Zone is totally different.”
“Yep,” said Tucker.  His computer let out another chime.  “By the way, you guys owe me soda now.”“How did you do that?” complained Danny.  “You weren’t even looking at the screen!”
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ipegchangbin · 3 days
Note
ipegchangbin, in the years since our last night together (lovely night by the way), i’ve reminisced often.
lovers, bodies touching on park benches, bated breath, curious hands. remember the orchard where you clutched my youth? the warm nights with love in our eyes? the grapefruit moon, the red fish in the water, your perfume, my last gift to you; a simple blushed peach. it all seems shortsighted now but i hold it close to my heart.
anyways, i had a dream the other day i had to lock myself in the bathroom during a holiday to jerk off non stop and i just couldn’t cum no matter how hard i tried, it was more like a nightmare.
can we discuss sweet changbin waking up in tears with ruined underwear after such a dream, unwavering need to hump his lover’s body beside him and play with his pussy until your cock/hands/mouth/whatever you want, grants his unabating wish to cum and spray his sweet release everywhere, and then retreat back to honeyed slumber and saccharine dreams with a smile on his dearest sleeping visage, most innate cravings quenched into next week.
love,
your fruitcake.
beloved dai fruitcakebin,
i remember you. of course i do. how could i forget, love? whenever i see peaches, i think of you and the blessed hand that gifted it to me; yours, the scent of your person still lingering as i browse grocery aisles that aren’t the same as the night we spent together. who would i be to forget you?
now about your dream…
🏷️ sub!boypussy!changbin. dom!gn!reader. cunnilingus (changbin receiving).
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as sweet as his dreams are, changbin can’t help himself as he’s glued to your warmth on the bed. in his head, all he sees is the impression of your teeth revealing themselves into a menacing smile as he’s held in his seat with no physical restraints; just you, your hands, unforgivingly fingering his pretty pink pussy.
it’s too much yet not enough, your fingers — undoubtedly yours, felt by the texture and length and width — curling inwards and outwards in a way that keeps changbin’s release so close yet so far. in his head, he wants to go; in reality, he simply humps your leg, whimpering slightly in his sleep.
he grunts in real life, but in his dreamscape he’s begging for you with no clear intention. he doesn’t want it to stop but he doesn’t want to keep going without cumming. you take notice of his sweet noises in your hazy slumber-turned-wake, firstly noticing the sensation of something wet on your thigh.
his cunt oozes cream and wetness as he nears his orgasm: you devilishly stop him from cumming as your fingers harshly pull out of his cunt.
changbin wakes up with a high pitched whimper.
“y/n,” he cries out gently, clutching onto your arm. “can’t sleep.”
“mmm, can’t sleep or can’t cum?” you respond.
changbin’s eyes widen before darting down to the mess he’s making on your leg. his precum seeps through his underwear and makes it down to your thigh. you could feel his cunt pulsating, aching with pure desire chasing for you.
so you clench your thigh, watching changbin writhe by your side.
“was i noisy?” he asks adorably.
“a little, but i don’t mind.”
you take a handful of changbin’s love handles, revealed by his ridden-up shirt, allowing him to inch closer to your warmth. he responds with a roll of his hips, beady eyes returning to his wet dream as he keeps going, but you allow him to use your body.
the thing is, you don’t allow him release.
as if he’s back to his dream, your fingers find his cunt again and you rub circles on his clit. the fat bud reacts instantly, quivering as he gushes his wetness onto you. a whine escapes his luscious lips, but he attempts to muffle the next moan by kissing your neck.
you laugh with closed eyes as you squeeze his hip with your free hand.
“my lovely changbin, did you dream of this?”
“yes…” changbin’s eyes tear up and sparkle.
“you didn’t cum, right?”
he nods, gulping.
“want me to make you cum?”
changbin clamps his needy legs around yours, squeezing his cunt right on top of your fingers. he waits impatiently for you to respond but you simply giggle.
“well, i’ll make you cum after i play with you for a bit, yeah?”
he whines but takes it obediently. you always love this about him: he remains a good boy even when he grows desperate and impatient. the contrast makes your heart jump, so you don’t mind when he asks for more. he’s too adorable, with his cheeks puffed, ears beet red, eyelashes wet with tears, and a cunt leaking and aching to be loved.
one finger pushes his underwear aside. you slip two fingers inside his pussy and changbin moans fully.
rolling his body to slot himself onto your curves, changbin resists the urge to grind onto your leg and hand. he whines your name with hitches in his breath. it’s only then that you notice how hard he grips your arm but it’s never enough to squeeze. he loves that you love him.
so you pump your fingers slowly into his cunt. a wet noise follows your calculated actions, the sound of sin echoing through the bedroom as changbin feels everything. he pulses on your cunt and gushes even in the smallest of strokes. it’s only two fingers, but the chub of his pussy lips sucks you into his tight walls in waves of pleasure.
“relax.” you slowly detach from changbin’s grasp, making him clench around your fingers to signal you to stop. you raise an eyebrow at him.
“changbin, i said relax.”
he instantly unclenches and a small flood of wetness follows. his arms loosen around your body, allowing you space to move as you wish.
“can i taste my binnie? wanna see your pretty pussy,” you suggest.
the taste of his cunt is a drug that you can’t get enough of. it’s a taste that’s savory and sweet, only enhanced by the look of his folds against the curls of his pubic hair. his pussy lips are sensitive to the point that kitten licks get him to cum, and his clit appears only once he’s aroused enough — much like a flower blooming. he’s so gorgeous and he tastes like heaven.
so you motion yourself down on him, opening his legs, slotting your mouth on top of his pussy.
“y/n!” this time, he fully cries. “please! i’ll cum!”
“isn’t that what you want?” you ask, leaning your cheek against his thigh. “i’ll give it to you if you give yourself to me.”
changbin sniffs back his next cry, opting to nod in response. at that, your tongue immediately licks a stripe down his cunt. changbin instinctively closes his legs, caging your head onto his pussy.
he cums a little bit once your tongue licks back up and finds his clit, but neither of you think nothing of it once your lips attach onto it and suck.
he writhes, whining your name, one hand holding the pillow behind his head while the other grabs you by your hair. he’s still gentle with it but he pulls you closer onto his cunt, letting you savor the taste of his leaking cum while you keep going. the ache only gets worse when you cup his inner thigh with one hand, while two fingers of his other hand find his needy hole again.
guiding themselves back, his tight hole reopens for you as you pump two fingers in with the same speed in which you suck his clit. changbin’s tears fall down his heated cheeks as you fuck his wetness and cum in and out. you slowly add one more digit into his tight hole, the difference making it tighter. changbin wails and squirms lightly, soft belly bouncing as he rolls his hips onto your head.
release builds and builds until it almost explodes — your mouth pops out of his clit.
“cum all over my mouth binnie.”
you lick his cunt once, twice. then your fingers curl to his limit, then his sweet spot, then before you know it, he squirts.
shock washes over changbin as he sprays his release onto your mouth and hand. even the sheets beneath you both get wet. but before apologies reel in, you lick up his release and finger his cunt more until he creams this time.
at this point, changbin’s a sobbing mess.
he wails for comfort only to be greeted by a kiss on the cunt and a hug around his belly.
“did so good for me,” you say, licking your lips.
the warmth of your body hugging him calms changbin. his breath stabilizes slightly as you pat his hips. you readjust your position after a minute passes, just you and him slowing your adrenalines down.
you invite changbin to hug you in the same position you both started, only now, you both are messes that smell like sweat, cum, and love.
another minute goes by and changbin snores, drooling on your chest, cum oozing out of his pussy as he returns to deep, satisfied slumber.
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hislastbimbogff · 18 hours
Text
I adore you, I swear.
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🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃
A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.
cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!
You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,
 “how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money” 
you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer. 
Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((
He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client. 
Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.
You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.  
“Hey, Miguel..”
 you say with a bit of a grin. 
“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right? 
“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.  
he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy. 
“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately. 
“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off. 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.
“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?
this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei
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sprainedwriting · 2 days
Text
All we have is time.
Adam x fem!reader
Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.
Part 1 Part 2
CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side
Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j
The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.
Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.
“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.
The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“
You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.
Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”
You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.
“Oh my god? Details?”
“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.
“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.
Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.
“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.
“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.
That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.
Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?
“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.
The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.
You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.
“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.
“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”
“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.
Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.
Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.
“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.
“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”
“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.
And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.
“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.
Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.
“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”
“Yeah…Why?”
Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.
Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”
You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.
“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.
They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.
Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.
You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.
In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.
A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.
[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM
[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM
[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM
You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.
[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM
[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM
[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24
[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM
[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM
[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am
[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM
[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM
You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.
Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.
[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM
[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM
SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.
Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.
Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.
Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.
Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.
“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.
Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.
“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.
Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.
Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.
“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.
He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”
Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.
“Yup!”
Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.
You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.
Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.
Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.
Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.
You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.
“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.
You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.
Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.
It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.
Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”
You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.
“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.
“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.
“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.
“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”
Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.
While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.
You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.
His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.
He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,
“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.
Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.
“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.
Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.
“Oh yeah? Show me.”
“Wha…Why?”
“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.
Fuckfuckfuck.
You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.
Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.
A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.
Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.
Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.
Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.
“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.
You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.
“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.
Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.
“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.
He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.
You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.
“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.
Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.
“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.
You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”
That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.
Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”
You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.
He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.
Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.
“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.
Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.
His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.
Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.
“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.
“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.
You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.
“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”
Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.
Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.
Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.
Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.
Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.
“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.
Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.
Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.
Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.
Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.
“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.
Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.
Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.
Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.
Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.
“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.
“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.
“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.
“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.
Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.
The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.
Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.
While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.
He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.
With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.
You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.
———————————————
Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?
You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.
Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.
You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.
Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.
Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.
Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.
Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,
“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.
Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.
“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.
His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.
“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.
“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.
His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“
Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.
“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.
By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.
Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.
You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.
When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.
He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.
He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.
Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.
With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.
You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.
“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.
You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.
Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.
“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.
Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.
“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.
Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.
Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.
Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.
“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.
Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.
He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.
“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.
Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.
He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.
“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.
Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to
take in air greedily. Motherfucker.
Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.
With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.
“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.
“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.
“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”
“Fuck off.”
Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.
“Why take your fucking bag with you?”
Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,
“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.
You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.
“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.
And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.
What the hell?
Wait.
“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.
“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.
There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.
Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.
Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.
“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”
“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”
Yeah, you could fucking tell.
Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.
“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”
“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.
Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”
You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.
You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.
“…Let’s sleep.”
Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.
And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.
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gallawitchxx · 19 hours
Note
hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖
ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏
sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx
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send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚
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#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.
Ian hasn’t slept in days.
It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.
His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.
Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.
Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.
Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.
He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?
The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?
Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.
Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?
He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.
The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?
He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?
Another clench: Indica
Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?
There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.
Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.
Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.
On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.
The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.
Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.
Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.
Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.
Jesus, he needs to sleep.
“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.
Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.
Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.
Wants him to stay the night.
Forever, maybe.
Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”
That’s the last thing Ian wants.
“Not tired,” he fibs.
Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”
It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.
“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”
Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”
Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.
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skelletonscloset · 1 day
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simon x sick!reader
wc— 973
cw— sick fic!! reader is gender neutral. emetophobia warning!! > mention of throwing up. simon being a good boyfriend.
a/n— this is my first official addition to this page!! i’m still getting used to this whole “writing and posting” thing, so i’d love feedback and constructive criticism :3 enjoy!!
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your body felt hot. the weight of your sheets on top of you was all you could feel aside from the way your eyes felt glued shut and how your clothes stuck uncomfortably to your back.
the past few days you knew you were starting to catch something, a few sneezes there and a small headache there — but you’d never guess you’d start to feel this bad.
now, it’s not like you were running to the bathroom and hurling the remains of your dinner from the past night into the toilet bowl, no. however, you did feel like the inside of your throat was being clawed at by a very angry cat and your mouth was dry from not being able to breathe clearly from your nose.
forcing your eyes open, you groan as you stir from your warm and slightly damp spot of the bed, your eyes adjusting to your dark room. you lick your lips, attempting to bring back some moisture, but they dried up again almost immediately.
“ugh… si?” you groan, looking to his side of the bed where he was. well, where he would be. you blinked your eyes, lifting your hand and placing it in his spot and feeling the warmth of his body that was left behind. huh.
you peered at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:41 am.
“si?” you weakly called out again, your nasally voice ringing throughout your shared bedroom. a few moments pass before you hear the heavy padding of feet approaching, a muscular forearm gently nudging the door open.
simon’s dark silhouette walked in, a mug of something in hand and a thermometer in the other. he shuffled closer, setting the mug down on the nightstand and turning on the small lamp next to the edge.
the lamp illuminated his dark eyes, which shifted from the thermometer’s buttons to you after turning it on. his short, blond locks were tousled from sleep, scratching the scruff on his jaw.
“woke up a couple minutes ago. felt ya’ start to get hot,” he grunted, holding the thermometer up to your forehead as he took your temperature. after the beep, he squinted, reading back your temperature in his gruff voice.
“99.8” he stated, setting the thermometer down and sitting on the edge of the bed, rugged body slightly facing you as one leg folded onto the sheets and the other hung off the bed.
“nothing too bad, yet.”
coaxing you to sit up, he carefully brings the cup of tea towards you, pausing when your hands don’t come up to take it. he looks up at you, watching you eye the steaming cup suspiciously. he sighs
“yes, it has enough honey.” he clarifies, watching your expression relax. he held his hand beneath yours as you took hold of the mug, softly blowing on it before you took a sip.
you hummed in satisfaction, affirming his words. “thank you, si,” you murmured, “but aren’t you going to get sick too?”
“don’t worry about that, lovie. focus on you gettin’ better,” his voice rumbled. you took a few more sips of the tea, soothing your throat little by little, before deciding you were too sweaty to finish it.
you handed the mug to him before coughing into your elbow, trying to clear out the feeling of glass in your throat but failing.
“i’m so sweaty…” you groan, watching as simon automatically puts the mug down and gets up, moving to the closet as he looks for something lighter for you to wear.
he’s back within a few seconds, one of his large t-shirts in hand and a pair of sleep shorts just in case.
“up,” he nudges your arms, helping you take off your long sleeve shirt which was slightly cold with your sweat. tossing it to the side, he rolled up the other shirt, gingerly slipping the sleeves down your arms as his shirt draped across your form.
“shorts?” he asked, noting how you already weren’t wearing pants, opting to sleep in your underwear instead. when you shook your head, he walked to the closet once more, putting the shorts away and your shirt in the hamper.
“thank you, si,” you whispered tiredly.
“none of that. need anything else? some water?”
“yes, please”
he walked out of the room.
you wondered how you ended up with such a caring man as your boyfriend. he’s practically a mind reader at this point. you looked down, eyeing the shirt he picked out for you. it was an old shirt of his, one he used to wear frequently before he became a part of your life.
the shirt was a dark gray, small holes between the seams of the sleeves. it was your favorite one, hence how worn out it was. you took the soft fabric in your hands, bringing it up to smell the familiar scent.
simon walks back into the room with a fresh glass of water, noticing you. he gently tuts to himself, setting the glass next to the mug he had forgotten to take to the kitchen with him.
he plopped back into your shared bed, your body falling towards him as the bed shifted from his weight. settling the sheets over his lower half, he handed you the glass of water, waiting patiently for you to be finished. when you were, he set the glass back down, the two of you getting comfortable once more.
he subconsciously brought you towards him as you lied back down, his strong arm pulling you into his broad, clothed chest. you sighed again, breathing him in as you tried to forget about the oncoming congestion you felt. your hand settled on his waist, your legs entangled with his.
“i love you, simon.” you exhaled, closing your eyes once more.
“love you too, sweetheart,” he grumbled into your hair.
maybe getting sick wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.
~🧸
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