One Shot

He comes home early - 5sos preference




The front door slams shut and you jolt awake. Michael gets home tomorrow, you remind yourself, so who’s just got home? You sit up, standing and flinching when your feet touch the cold floor, it has to be about 2am. You make your way to the door reaching for some kind of weapon which just happens to be the ukulele Michael bought you. Holding it above your head you walk into the lounge and switch the light on to see a tired Michael screw his eyes up.

"It’s only you," you breathe launching yourself at him for a hug.

"Who’d you think it was?" he chuckles.

"Some kinds of intruder," you reply.

"And your weapon of choice was a ukulele?"




You belt along with the 5sos album as you do every time you have a bath when Calum isn’t around, it’d be embarrassing if he was. Halfway through the chorus of Amnesia you see, in the corner of your eye, the door opening and you jump as Calum steps in.

"Can I join you?" he says before quietly singing along to his own band’s music.

"You scared me, you’re home early," you say getting out of the bath, care free and tossing on a bathrobe.

"I didn’t think you’d be in the bath," he adds taking you by the waist and pulling you in to a kiss.



Being the idiot he is, Ashton tweeted about coming home early a few hours ago so you decide to take a drive down to the airport where you park behind a taxi that you discover is his. As soon as you see him walking up to the taxi you press the horn and wave at him as he sees you. He waves the taxi off as you get out of the car and hug him.

"How did you know about this?" he asks.

"I know you love your fans but I think you forget that I am one of those however many million followers," you reply.

L U K E 



Your face lights up as you hear the front door to your house open and Luke steps inside.

"Hey, look who’s home," he says.

"Sh…" you hush him before mouthing, she’s sleeping.

"Sorry," he whispers as you hug him. "Can I go see her?"

You nod, “Only if you’re quiet” and watch as he tiptoes up the stairs.

A tear comes to your eye as you watch your husband looking at your daughter with such love, you’re so lucky.


Masterlist // Request

Mind Meld Part 8

Title: Mind Meld Part 8

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: swearing

Request: See Mind Meld Part 1

A/N: Here’s part 8 guys—a little more info before the real action begins. Before Part 9, though, I suggest you guys stock up on some Dean fluff. ;) Here are some suggestions: All The Stars, Thinking Out Loud (one of my favorites), Lean On Me, Cursed (another favorite), When You’re Ready.

I hope you guys like it. :)



Your name: submit What is this?

8 hours earlier

You shove away from the chair abruptly, and the three men turn to look at you. “Bathroom,” you mutter, avoiding their eyes.

You stagger away to the bathroom, hastily slamming the door shut and locking it before sliding to the floor. This was a mess. And you didn’t know what to do.

So you did only thing you could. You didn’t think about it, or talk about it, or look at Dean or do anything even remotely related to Dean.

For the rest of the night, you avoided conversation with him, eye contact, you ate in silence, you set your bags in a different room than his… everything. And he noticed. He definitely noticed—you could see it in his mind.

And damn it, he was perceptive. Because he knew that part of the reason you were staying away was because of the mind meld. That was clear. But he could tell there was something more, too. You didn’t know how he knew, but he did, and you were guessing he planned on saying something.

You took a walk through the lines and lines of cars around Bobby’s house, needing some time to think.

Unfortunately, Dean found you.

“Thinking about getting your own car, too, sweetheart? Maybe driving across the country away from the shithole we’ve stepped in?”

You pause in your walk, sighing and slowly spinning around to face him. He leaned against a rusting, navy blue van, his gaze searching yours. His arms were folded across his chest.

“No,” you say flatly. “I’m taking a walk.”

Dean pushes away from the car. “What’s wrong, Y/n? what’s the problem?”

“What do you mean, what’s the problem? We’re swimming in problems right now.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean, what’s your problem?”

“Mine?” you repeat, stalling. “Singular?”

“Okay,” he says, frustrated. “What are your problems, Y/n?”

You sigh. “I don’t have any,” you lie.

“So does a girl make it a point to not speak to her boyfriend about anything of the issues she has? Ever?” Dean snaps.

“I said I didn’t have any—”

"And I wouldn’t even know if she did have any," Dean interrupts. "Because she doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me."

"Don’t act like you have no clue how I feel," you snap. "You don’t even really have a choice."

"And don’t you assume that I know everything! I thought I was your boyfriend, Y/n. I thought that this is what that was. And I don’t know a whole lot of relationships, but I know this isn’t how there supposed to be. Relationships include communication, and lately I’m noticing a lack of that on your end.”

"Yeah? I wonder why that is. Maybe because every time we say a damn word to each other, we’re one step closer to melting into one goddamn person!"

"Don’t act like that’s it," Dean says. "Don’t act like that’s all it is. Maybe I’m not Stanford material, but don’t treat me like an idiot, Y/n."

"Then don’t act like one!" You shout. 

He stares at you in silence for a long moment. “I wasn’t aware that I was.”

"Yeah, well, you are," you say, rubbing your temples. 

"How? Because I’m trying to figure out what the hell I did to make my girlfriend become a mute every time I walk into the room?"

"No, because you don’t already know why!" You yell. "Do you want our souls to permanently meld? Do you want to be one person in two bodies? Or maybe become a vegetable, like Raphael’s vessel? Because frankly, neither option sounds very appealing to me."

"Stop it!" Dean shouts. "Stop pretending like that’s the only reason you’re avoiding me!"

"It is!"

"You know, I can’t see every goddamn thought that runs through your pretty little head, but I can see enough to when you’re lying, Y/n," he says, his eyes alight with anger. "So go on. Spit it out. Let the cat out of the bag because I am so friggin’ interested to know exactly what’s going on.”

You shake your head slowly. “You want to know what’s going on?”

"Yeah, Y/n. I do."

Your lips are pressed together so tightly that your mouth shakes and your fingers ball into fists. You open your mouth to speak, and then stop. 

You couldn’t tell him. 

"Nothing," you say. "Nothing’s going on."

"Goddammit, Y/n!" Dean shouts. "Quit being a friggin’ child about this! This isn’t just happening to you, so if there’s something else going on, you better damn well tell me so we don’t have even more crap just sitting there and not being worked through!"

You clench your jaw. “This isn’t something that can be just ‘worked through’, Dean,” you say tightly. 

"Fine," Dean says. "Fine. I don’t care if it is. Just talk to me, Y/n. That’s what I’m here for. Isn’t that what a good boyfriend does? Listens?”

Your eyes film slowly with tears. “Yeah, that’s what a good boyfriend does.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “Is that—are you—”

"You said you loved me," you interrupt him, shaking. 

"I know," Dean says slowly. "I meant it."

You stare at him. 

"What, you don’t believe me?" He asks in disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"No, Dean, I’m not!" You yell. "Didn’t you hear what Cas said in there? He said our emotions are melding. So whatever this is for you… It’s not real. It’s my feelings rubbing off on yours. It’s… It’s fake. It’s.. It’s not…” You trail off, the pain cracking open your chest.

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean says, holding up his hands. "If that’s your theory, then what about me? I could think the same damn thing. Maybe my feelings are the ones rubbing off on yours."

"No," you say, trembling, fighting back the onslaught of tears. "No, it’s not."

"How do you know?" He demands. "Is this some kind of instinct? Cause I trust you, I do, but this situation is a little weirder than most, Y/n, so—"

"It’s because I loved you before any of this even happened!" You shout, the tears winning the battle and sliding down your cheeks. 

He stares at you, his mouth slightly agape. 

"So… So whatever this is—whatever this was—it’s not real, Dean, okay?” You sob. “So when—if all of this is over, I don’t want to look at you, and see pity staring back at me. I don’t goddamn want it.”

You turn away, wiping your tears on the sleeve on the jacket you were wearing. It was Dean’s—he’d given it to you right before you’d left. It was one of the few hoodies he owned.

"Y/n—Y/n, stop a minute,” he says, grabbing your arm and forcing you to face him. 

"No, Dean," you say, staring up at him through blurry vision. His face is fearful, though he tries to mask it. 


"I said no!" You shout, ripping your arm from his grasp. God, the pain that shot across his features… It nearly overthrew your self control. 

But it didn’t. 

He bites his lip, then nods slowly, looking away from you. His foot taps against the ground and he shoves his hands into his pocket, swallowing hard. 

"Alright," he says quietly. "Fine, dammit. Fine. Have it your way, Y/n."

"Where are you—"

"Does it even matter?" He asks, backing away. "If you don’t give me your trust, why the hell should I give you mine?"

"It’s not that I don’t trust you—"

"That’s exactly what it is!" Dean yells, throwing his hands into the air. “You don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s on your mind, to help you. You don’t event trust me to know my own feelings!"

You press your lips together and merely watch him, wishing the tears away. He slowly shakes his head at you, his eyes bitter and piercing. 

"But you know what? That’s not fair. I won’t put up with it. This isn’t fake, you hear me? This isn’t some illusion, or a half-assed, weak attempt at a relationship with a guy you met on a dating site. I’m fucked up, Y/n. I know it, you know it, hell, the whole world knows it. But I’m not any other guy. And I don’t believe I deserve a whole lot, but one thing I do deserve is your trust.”

You swallow hard. You knew he was right. But you were so goddamn confused.

“I’m pretty confused too, Y/n. And for good reason,” Dean says, still upset. “So let me know when you sort this shit out, sweetheart. Because I sure as hell ain’t waitin’ around for it.”

And with that, he wheels around and stalks back towards Bobby’s house, leaving you shivering alone in the cold night air.


You bolt upright in your bed, something loud and high pitched filling your ears. You gasp, and the sound cuts off. It was you. You were screaming. You start to cry, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your fingers clutch at your hair. It was just a dream. Just a dream. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t—

The door busts open suddenly, and it’s Dean standing there looking terrified, his hair rumpled and clad only in a t-shirt and boxers. ‘Y/n?” he demands, rushing towards you. “Y/n, what the hell is going on?”

You stretch out a trembling hand, still sobbing, making no attempt to speak, knowing anything you tried to say would come out unintelligible. Dean grabs your hand, and with his other, he cradles your cheek, saying firmly, “Tell me what’s wrong, Y/n.”

You look into his beautiful green eyes, and flashback to the black eyes from your dream. You shudder, biting your lip as more tears spill over. Tell him, Y/n. Let him know you trust him. He deserves that.

But you don’t have a chance to. Because he stiffens suddenly, obviously seeing the dream inside your head. His eyes close in self-hatred and shame but you clutch at his shoulders, shaking him hard.

“Stop it, Dean,” you cry, fisting your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “D-don’t you dare—don’t you—look at me!

The sobs rack your body and his sad eyes meet yours. He gently pries your fingers away, wrapping his arms around you as he climbs into the bed.

“I’m sorry.” The tears stream down your face. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“That’s enough, Y/n,” Dean whispers, his voice gruff. “Stop. It’s alright. I’m here.”

You cry into his shirt, staining the fabric darker, trying desperately to speak around the lump in your throat, but you can’t.

“I trust you,” you cry out finally, when you manage to form words. “I trust you, Dean. I trust you with everything. I trust you to help me and to tell me when to keep going and when to stop, and-and I trust you with my problems and with my feelings and—and I—I’m—”

“Shh,” Dean murmurs, rocking you back and forth gently as you shake violently against him. “I know.”

“Please d-don’t leave,” you beg him. “Please don’t leave. I know you might-might want to, ‘cause you think it’ll be easier, b-but don’t, because I’d rather die loving you than live a little longer a-alone.”

“I won’t go anywhere, Y/n,” Dean says, his voice low and honest. “I promise. I promise. You understand that? I know—I know you might not believe it, but I love you. I swear to God I do. I got us into this mess and I’ll get us out, I swear. I swear.”

You don’t have the strength to argue with him. You just cry, and his arms stay wrapped around you until everything fades away once more, and this time, the Dean’s eyes in your dreams are still as green as they were the first time you saw them.


You wake the next morning with your body tangled with someone else’s. You roll over slowly to the sight of Dean’s face, peaceful in sleep, lying next to yours. You swallow hard, remembering the previous night. Because you can’t help it, and because you’re grateful and so, so sorry, you lean over and place a gentle kiss on his lips.

Apparently, he wasn’t as deeply asleep as you’d thought. One of his eyes cracks open.

“Aren’t I supposed to kiss you awake?” he mutters sleepily.

“No,” you whisper with a smile. “You’re my sleeping beauty.”

“Do you enjoy poking holes in my masculinity?” he mutters with a small grin, his eyes falling closed again.

“What masculinity?” you tease.

Dean rolls over you abruptly and you giggle as his body weight presses into yours.

“That’s not nice,” he murmurs, his lips traveling lightly up your jaw.

You sigh contently, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’d only been a day since you felt his body against yours, but you’d felt like it’d been forever. He’s warm, and his breath is even warmer as it tickles your neck. His body rubs against yours slightly as he drops his lips to yours and you groan into his mouth.

“Dean, if you don’t stop, I’m not going to let you out of bed all day, and we both know the consequences of that decision.”

“Do we?”

“Dean,” you groan, when his lips press into your neck. “I’m serious.”

With a conscious effort, Dean rolls away from you, sighing heavily. You both lay in silence for a moment, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, this sucks,” Dean says.

You giggle. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He turns to look at you, smiling softly. “You don’t seem to be struggling over it as much as I am.”

“Oh, I am. Maybe even more than you,” you tease.

“Yeah, well, at least your struggle doesn’t show,” Dean mutters, shifting beneath the comforter. You laugh, and he grins lovingly.

You gaze into his eyes happily, a smile still curving your lips. “This probably isn’t a good idea,” you murmur, not moving.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

Neither of you even stirring an inch, you lie there in comfortable silence. At least until Sam pounds on the door.

“Y/n, come on, break—” he breaks off when he sees the two of you in bed together. “Oh shit, guys, seriously? Did you hear anything Cas said?”

“Relax, Sammy, we didn’t do anything,” Dean grumbles, sitting up.

“Why are you even in here, Dean? Didn’t you guys fight?”

You roll your eyes. “Nice, Sam.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, sorry. Bobby and I want to talk to you guys, so come out.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Dean says tiredly. Sam nods and retreats, leaving the door open behind him.

Dean looks at you, and gives you a small smile. “I guess we should go out there, huh?”

“Guess so,” you sigh, sliding your legs off the mattress. Stretching, you add, “They said they wanted to ‘talk to us’. Does that sound good to you?”

Dean shrugs, yawning. “Honestly, it doesn’t sound like much of anything. They’re probably stuck,” he says.

“Awesome,” you mutter. “Oh well. I can’t think about anything till I have something to eat.”

Dean chuckles, absently pushing his hair out of his face.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothin’,” he says. “That just kinda sounds like something I would say.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess it does. Come, on princess. Let’s go eat.”

“Princess?” he asks, hugging you from behind as you walk towards the door.

You kiss his jaw. “You are my sleeping beauty, are you not?” you murmur. You feel him smile, and then he releases you and the two of you walk out to the kitchen.

Bobby doesn’t look up from his plate as you arrive into the kitchen. “Mornin’, idjits. Bad news.”

“Great,” Dean sighs, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “What is it?”

“Sam and I have dug through every book I own for anything to help with your… situation,” he says. “And we got nothin’. Goose eggs.”

“But,” Sam interjects, seeing your face tighten. “We’re not out of options. Bobby’s library is definitely impressive, but it’s not our only resource.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Then what are you thinking about trying next?

“Philosophy,” Sam says. You snort, and he says, “Hear me out. For the history part of it, we have almost nothing. From a science outlook, we also have nothing. We could try religion, but there’s so much more on the soul to sort through than there is in philosophy. Plus, the little I’ve looked at seems plausible. I thought we could, I don’t know, call Cas. See if any of it is close to what the actual soul is like.”

You and Dean mull over his words for a moment. Scooping some eggs onto your plate, you say, “Alright. I guess we could try it. Let’s call him. Dean?”

“Why do I always gotta be the one to call?” he complains. “It’s not like he lives in my ass, the dude’s busy.”

You hear a light fluttering behind you, and you twist in your seat to see Cas standing tiredly in the living room.

Dean whips around too. “Cas, get out of my ass,” he grumbles, turning back to his plate.

“I was never in your—” Cas’s eyebrows furrow.

Dean rolls his eyes and you giggle. “Hey, Cas. Come on in. We were just talking about calling you. Sam and Bobby didn’t find much in the books, so Sam was thinking about trying philosophy next.”

Cas nods thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

“Really?” the four of you say in unison.

He nods again. “Yes. If I remember correctly, Plato’s version of the soul was represented the most accurately.”

“Plato,” Sam repeats, perking up. “I remember some of his stuff. Hang on—”

He pulls out his laptop and types something in, before saying, “Plato based his idea of the soul off of Socrate’s teachings. He thought that it was comprised of three parts: logos, the mind, or reason; thymos, the emotion, and eros, the desire.”

“Desire gets its own third of our soul?” Dean asks. “Well, that explains a lot.”

You fight back a laugh, and Sam throws him a look. “Desire doesn’t just mean the desire from your downstairs brain, Dean. It means everything we’ve ever wanted in general, and everything we do want.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “Whatever. Go on.”

“Well, Plato thought that logos was the only part of the soul that was immortal, and that it regulated the other two. But thymos and eros, the emotion and desire, are the keys to the afterlife.” He looks at both of you expectantly.

“Okay,” you say stupidly. “So what?”

Sam sighs. “So, theoretically, if Cas were to untangle your souls, he couldn’t remove the thymos and eros, because one of you or both of you could die. Not Dean, I guess—we don’t know what would happen to him.” Dean’s jaw clenches.

“But,” Sam continues. “Since the logos is essentially immortal, he could remove it without causing too much harm.”

“Well, then how are we supposed to untangle our desires or emotions or whatever?” you ask.

“Logos regulates thymos and eros,” Cas interjects. You all look at him. “So hypothetically, they will follow wherever I move the logos.”

“Hold up,” Dean says. “So… when we did the mind meld, it was our logos that combined. And that’s why our souls are melding now? Because the logos pulled the other two along with it?”

Cas nods thoughtfully. “Yes, that would make sense.”

“So Cas will have to extract her logos from my soul? And vice versa? And then what, drag them back into our own bodies? How will he know what the logos is?” Dean asks Sam.

“You would be surprised how distinct the different aspects of the soul are. I will be able to tell,” Cas says.

“Alright,” you say slowly. “Then let’s try it.”

“There’s something else,” Cas says hesitantly. “Let’s say I first remove Dean’s logos from Y/n’s soul. Hers will then have little or no reason left. Her emotions and desires will be left unchecked, and may run rampant until I return her logos from Dean’s soul, back into her own. It could be… traumatic. She could see anything from her greatest desires to her worst fears. She may possible even hallucinate.”

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask.

“Then I’ll do it,” Dean says immediately. “I’ll be the second one to get my logos back or whatever,”

“Like hell you will be,” you snap. He opens his mouth, furious, but Sam interrupts,

“Hang on, guys. Firstly, it says here that souls are thought to be active during asleep, and asleep when the body is active. So both of you will have to be asleep anyway. I’m thinking Dreamroot. And Y/n, the actual extraction will be painful. Remember, Cas once touched my soul, and that was… well, it hurt. A lot. So actually extracting something from it… I don’t know, but I don’t think it’ll be pleasant.”

“It will hurt emotionally, too, for the second person,” Cas says. “The feelings, depending on the person’s current state of mind… could extend as far as heartbreak. And with it being unregulated and out of control, emotional pain could be even beyond comprehension, and may even be so intense on the mind that it reverts to physical pain to handle it.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Dean says, his voice shaking. “I am doing it,” he says, glaring at you. “No arguments.”

“No, you’re not, Dean. I am. I can handle something like this better.”

“You. Are not. Doing it,” he says slowly, his eyes dark with anger, his hands clenched into fists.

“Yes I am!” you say loudly.

“Sam, can I talk to you in the other room?” Dean says immediately, standing up, still glaring at you,

Sam sighs, but pushes out of his chair and follows him into the other room. The second he’s gone, you turn to Cas.

“Cas, you have to let me do this,” you beg instantly. “I’m better with this stuff. I can handle it.”

“Y/n,” Cas says in a hesitant, warning voice.

“Please, Cas,” you plead with him. “Dean… he’s already so broken. I don’t know what this’ll do to him. Who knows how long it’ll take for the logos to gain control back over the emotions? This could damage him beyond anything he can imagine. He can’t handle it. You know that.”

“Y/n, if you do it, we don’t know what it could do to you either.”

“Please, Cas,” you repeat. “If you’re a good friend, let me do it. If you want to protect Dean from destruction, please, please let me do this.”

Cas avoids your gaze for a while, looking intently at the floor. Then he swallows hard, and his wide eyes rise to yours.


Déjà vu

Random OQ ones-shot I did a few nights back. I didn’t post then because, to be honest, I’m not 100% keen on it. But alas, it was sitting in my docs doing nothing, so have at it, tumblr! Can’t take credit for the idea … it was a nice post I saw doing the rounds a few weeks ago and loved. 

I might write a part two if it’s well received. 


She dreams of the tavern most nights now. Of what would have happened, had she not given in to her fears, had she walked over the threshold and approached the man with the lion tattoo. She dreams of page 23, a hazy collection of images pushed together that tell her her life would be unrecognisable now, had page 23 been given life, had fate given them a chance instead of … Well … Instead of this.

That life plagues her mind; the one they could have had. A simple cottage in the woods, filled with love and warmth and the sound of their children’s laughter. She knows, conceivably, that life would never have come to pass, even if she had gone into that bar. Her dearest husband would never have let them live, and their inevitable life on the run would have been no way to raise the children she sees at night. But still, she dreams, lets her mind conjure images of a life she will never have.

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Original imagine from thefandomimagine

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thranduil x [elf] reader

Notes: Prison, very mild anger, anticipation, smut, fluff

Request: herainia - I like your fics! Please would you write drabble for “Imagine Thranduil order to kiss you” from The Fandom Imagine? The reader is member of company. When company escape reader doesn’t get with them and reader stay Thranduil’s prisoner. Reader doesn’t tell anything about company but still Thranduil fell in love with reader. One night Thranduil order guards bring reader in his room and he tells feelings about reader and in the end order reader to kiss him. Can there be something fluff and smut?

Word count: 1861 [oops, got carried away]

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FOLLAMIGOS [¨WiTaXx/Wigetta] (Lemmon)







[WiTaXx/Wigetta  (Lemmon)]

-Gracias por dejar que me quede estas dos semanas aquí, Willy.

-No es nada, sabes que siempre cuando necesites una mano vamos a estar aquí para ayudarte.- Dijo el pelinegro, refiriéndose a él mismo y a su compañero de casa, Samuel, mejor conocido como ‘’Vegetta777’’. Era alto, con un cuerpazo que hasta los dioses envidiarían, castaño y un homosexual reprimido, es decir, nadie, absolutamente nadie sabía que era gay, ni el mismo…o tal vez sí, pero lo negaba. ROTUNDAMENTE.

En cambio Willy…pues, el era flacucho, de piel muy clara, mofletudo, tenía los ojos con rasgos chinos, era prácticamente de la misma estatura que Samuel y cada dos por tres se sonrojaba o reía, haciendo que sus ojos desaparecieran.  Este no tenía muy clara su orientación sexual, podría decirse que…era…       …raro. No le gustaba NADIE, aunque le gustaban mucho las bromas que hacía con sus amigos. Si tuviera que definir su sexualidad, creo que la definiría como Gay.

-Muchas gracias, no sabes cuánto te lo agradezco…-Dijo Frank.

-No hay de que, tío. Ya, déjalo ahí. Vamos a mi cuarto y jugamos a la consola y tal, ¿quieres? –Su amigo no respondió, si no que fue directo al cuarto de Willy y se sentó en la punta de su  cama, mirando a su amigo desde allí.

-¿Enciendes tú o yo?- El pelinegro acompañado de una risa cruzo la puerta y se dirigió hacia su cama.

-Tú. Yo ya me he senta’o…

-Es que es tonto…Yo también estoy sentado y no me quiero parar-Hizo una mueca- Ve tú.

-Que no, que vayas tú, tío.

-Que no pringa’o.

-Entonces si no vas por las buenas, iras por las malas.

-¿Pero qué dic…-El pelinegro le salto encima, haciéndole cosquillas en todo el torso, mientras que su amigo se retorcía bajo suyo.

Parecía una lombriz, después de que le hayan cortado la cabeza.

Frank logro darlos vuelta, quedando encima de Willy. Paso sus piernas por  los costados de este, consiguiendo inmovilizarlo. Con su mano izquierda tomo ambas muñecas del pelinegro y las llevo encima de su cabeza y con la otra mano empezó a hacerle cosquillas.

-N-nooo, no Frank JAJAJAJAJAJAJA, no, para AYY AJAJAJA, yaaaaa, deja de torturarme!!! Fraaank JAJAJAJA

-¿Qué dijiste? No te escuche…-Acerco su rostro al suyo y miro sus ojos verdes, poco visibles.

-Eh…Q-que…Dije q-que…-Se lo notaba nervioso, ya estaba tartamudeando y todo.

-¡PERO QUE…!-Willy y Frank saltaron del susto, quedando ambos en el suelo. Vegetta había llegado de correr y había ido a buscar a su compañero de casa, pero al entrar en su cuarto se encontró una escena casi comprometedora…

-Hola Samu, ¿todo bien?-Willy sonreía, mientras se sobaba la cabeza, que anteriormente había chocado contra el mueble que tenía su ropa interior.

-Por lo que veo Frank ya llego…pensé que llegarías en la noche.

-Quería hacerles una sorpresa…pero cuando entre a la casa solo vi a Willy y bueno, la sorpresa  no salió tan bien que digamos…Íbamos a jugar a un juego con Willy, ¿te nos unes?-La cara que puso Vegetta fue para enmarcarla, al parecer había mezclado un poco las cosas… a lo que se refería era un juego de consola, no de…                  …de cosas insanas.

-¡¡Jo’e tio!! Que Frank habla de jugar a la play, no a…   …a otras cosas…-Willy estaba todo rojo, se veía tan cute.

-Y si… ¿Qué otras cosas serían si no…? Solo estaba pensando, y no, no puedo. Tengo que grabar, lo siento. Sigan con ‘’Su juego de consola’’- Esto último lo acompaño con un movimiento de dedos. Vegetta salió de la habitación y fue a su baño, para darse una ducha. Correr por una hora y media lo hacía oler como a cerdo.


Salí de ducharme y me empecé a vestir, lo único que se escuchaba eran risas y gritos de niña pequeña, provenientes de la habitación de Willy, que estaba en frente de la mía.

Asome la cabeza por el pasillo, pero la puerta de mi compañero estaba cerrada. Salí completamente de mi cuarto y me dirigí a la cocina, para tomar un vaso de agua, cuando de repente la puerta del cuarto de Willy se abrió.

Mire hacía ese lugar con cara de susto, ya que estaba Willy tirado en el suelo, de cadera para abajo en su cuarto y de cadera para arriba en el pasillo y algo que me alarmo fue que no tuviera camiseta.

Lo de hoy en la tarde.

Los ruidos que escuchaba hace un rato.

Que ahora Willy no tenga playera.

Esto ya es el colmo.

-¿Pero tíoooo, que haces? ¿Tú eres tonto? ¿Te lastimaste Guillermo?-Lo tome de ambos brazos y lo levante. Del otro lado de la puerta estaba un Frank partiéndose de la risa.

-Willy…W-willy Se…-Frank no paraba de reír, no lo dejaba hablar.- Se puso a saltar como sapo y se tropezó y…y…-Ríe-Se tropezó con eso-Señalo un muñeco que parecía ser un monito de ojos morados. Es que ¿QUIÉN SE PONE A SALTAR Y ES TAN TONTO COMO PARA CAERSE TAN FUERTE Y LLEGAR A ABRIR LA PUERTA? Y para re-matar caerse en el pasillo. Ah, sí. Guillermo Díaz señores.

-Deja de reírte pringa’o, que en vez de ayudarme te quedaste ahí, mirándome sin parar de soltar carcajadas.

-Es que tendrías que haberte vistooooo, si yo hubiera caído tu hubieras echo lo mismo…

-Cierto. Y hubiera agarrado mi cámara y te habría grabado, mientras estabas tirado en el piso.

-Qué mala gente chaval.

-¿Y por qué no tiene camisa?-Lo dije así sin más, sin pensarlo. Y ahora que lo pienso sonó como un reproche. ¡NO SOMOS NADA COMO PARA QUE YO LE PIDA EXPLICACIONES! Genial. Ahora estaba hablando conmigo mismo.

-Es que hacía calor y el aire que está en el salón no llega hasta aquí…

-Hubieran abierto la puerta.- Y OTRA VEZ. ES QUE SOY TONTO DE LA CABEZA A LOS PIES.

-Es que estábamos gritando por jugar a un juego de terror y no queríamos molestarte…

-Tranquilos que los gritos se escuchaban igual-Reí- ¿Vamos a cenar o qué?

-Sí, espera que me cambie y vamos.-Willy tomo una remera blanca de Jake & Jones y se la puso.- Listo, vamos.




Una vez llegamos al lugar, llego James para pedir nuestra orden, como siempre yo me pedía una ensalada cesar y Guille una ensalada de pollo y mayonesa. Frank miraba el menú indeciso.

-Yo quiero un bistec a la carbonara.-Le dimos los menús y se fue a entregar la orden.

-¿Así que ese es el tal Mike?-Le pregunto Frank a Willy, en un susurro casi inaudible. Willy se puso rojo.









¡¿Por qué narices se puso rojo?!

-No…Mike es el otro, él es James…


-Sí, sí. Muy interesante-Dije sin mucha gana. Es que me tocaba la moral que hablaran de un tío que estaba enamorado de Willy y este corresponderá cuando YO trato de mandarle indirectas muy DIRECTAS al cabezotas y na’

-Todavía es raro que no se haya acercado a coquetearle.- Mátenme antes de que diga otra cosa.

Willy y Frank me miraron sorprendidos, aunque Guillermo con un todo carmesí en sus mofletes.

Mire hacia un lado cualquiera, y justamente James estaba mirándonos raro.


Guillermo y Samuel habían vuelto para degustar nuevamente la comida que ofrecía el lugar en donde trabajaba.

Me pareció raro que hayan venido con un amigo, ya que ellos me contaron que son de España y que aquí solo tienen una pareja de amigos; Borja Luzu y Lana eran sus nombres. Yo ya conocía a esta pareja y ese chico que estaba sentado al lado de Guillermo no era Borja.

Lo más raro es que Samuel y Guillermo no estaban Sentados juntos, ya que para mí eran una pareja…

Cuando me di cuenta, vi que Samuel me miraba. Me acerque y pregunte amablemente:

-Hola chicos, ¿quieren algo más?

-No, gracias.- Los tres hablaron al unísono. Antes de que me vaya el chico sentado al lado de Guille me llamo.

-James.- Me di la vuelta.

-¿Se te ofrece algo más?

-Nono, no es eso. Willy me hablo de ti.- ¿¡QUE!? –Dijo que eran amigos, que se conocieron aquí, en este lugar y que trabajabas de camarero.- Me estaba poniendo rojo, al igual que Guillermo, pero su cara de póker face superaba la mía de sorpresa.

-Ah…-Instintivamente mire a Samuel, el cual me fulminaba con la mirada.-Que…que bien…si, supongo que somos amigos jaja, intercambiamos palabras un rato…pero nunca nos hemos visto fuera de mi lugar de trabajo…-Escuche un no muy notorio ‘’Y no lo harán’’ Proveniente de la boca de Samuel y de su amigo misterioso.

-Bueno James, un gusto. Yo soy Frank- Al fin se me su nombre.

-Un gusto.- Estrechamos la mano.- Ahí les traigo su comida.




-¡Adios chicos, que tengan una linda noche!- Les grite mientras se iban. Me respondieron con un ‘’¡Igualmente!’’ y cruzaron la puerta.

Parecía una loca cada vez que nombraban a Guillermo, pero es tan ‘’mono’’ como dirían ellos en España. Como me gustaría tener su paquetón dentro de mí…Pero por lo que se es un buen pasivo…pero no le molestaría ser activo… ¡James que estás pensando! Dios…



Llegamos a casa y los tres llegamos dispuestos a tirarnos ahí mismo y dormir por mil años.

-Bueno chicos, me voy a dormir. Estoy que me caigo.-Les comente mientras me dirigía a mi cuarto.

-Quieto ahí Guillermo Diaz.- Advirtió Vegetta. Llego hacía donde estaba, que por cierto me había quedado tipo estatua, y me tomo de la muñeca y me llevo hasta donde estaba Frank.

-¿sTaXx  donde va a dormir?

-Eso Willy…¿Dónde duermo?

-Eeh… ¿y si duermes en mi cuarto?

-NO.- dijo rápidamente Samuel.-D-digo… No…No dormiréis en la misma c-cama…¿no?

-Calla pringao y déjame terminar. Digo que duerma en mi cuarto y nosotros dos-Me señale a mí y a el robusto chico que se hacía llamar Samuel-En el tuyo…digo, como ya vivimos juntos desde hace t-tiempo…no sé, digo, si te molesta no, pero no se…es una i-idea…

-Por mí está  bien-Decía Vegetta mientras iba a coger un vaso con agua helada del refri.

-Por mí también, así que si no les molesta me voy a ‘’mi cuarto’’ Adiós chavales, tengan lindos sueños.-Frank se echó paso a mi cuarto, dejándome solo con mi compañero de casa.



Entramos en su habitación y vimos el problema.

-Solo una cama…

-Solo UNA cama.

-Mierda, bueno em…incomodo ehje ehje- eche a reirme para liberar la tensión que se había formado.

-Mira, tú de un lado y yo del otro…-Yo estaba mirando para otro lado pero cuando Samuel hablo me di la vuelta y el justamente se estaba acercando a mí y…

-Eh… -Lo interrumpí.

-Lo-lo-l-lo S-siento…-Había quedado a milímetros de su boca. Perfecto estaba más rojo que un tomate.

-No…No es nada…-Se echó a reír.

Me dirigí a su baño para ponerme la pijama y cuando regrese cambiado encontré a un Vegetta en calzoncillos poniéndose el pantalón de su ropa de dormir.

Me le quede mirando la espalda ancha de este, recorriendo cada lugar de ella. Mi vista bajo hacía su trasero pero luego de unos milisegundos viéndolo fue tapado por el pantalón del pijama.

A parte la vista y me metí bajo las mantas, del lado derecha de su cama, mirando hacia su pc que estaba subiendo un video, era el de KarmaRun. Sonreí al recordar las risas que nos sacó hacer ese juego. Y recordé mi encuentro con Frank…

FLASHBACK (importante de leer sino no se va a entender lo demás)

Entonces entre en ese armario para coger lo que los productores me habían dicho, era un micrófono para grabar las voces de los personajes.

De repente algo, o mejor dicho alguien entro detrás de mí. Me tapo la boca y me susurro:

-Soy yo, no hagas ruido.- Era Frank. Lo mire a los ojos, con la poca luz que había y me quede embobado, esos ojos reflejaban dulzura…de repente mi mente quedo en blanco cuando el chico que me tenía aprisionado saco su mano y me beso. Sí.




-Tenía que hacerlo…Willy…Guillermo, me gustas. No te estoy pidiendo gustarte ni siquiera que me correspondas el beso, solo te pido que no te enojes. Necesitaba hacerlo.

Entonces tome su cuello y lo atraje hasta mí juntando nuestros labios de nuevo.

-¿Sin compromiso?-Pregunté divertido.

-Sin compromisos.- Entonces salimos de ese armario con una sonrisa.


-¿en qué piensas Willy?-Los pensamientos se esfumaron de repente, voltee a verlo.

-En las risas que nos tiramos haciendo el juego…el de KarmaRun.

-Ah…sí, fue una pasada aunque hubo bajas también hubo altas y valió la pena todo.

Reí-Cierto…Bueno Vegetta e voy a dormir, buenas noches pringao.

-Buenas noches.




Habían pasado ya diez minutos y seguía sin poder dormir. Me voltee a ver el techo y note como estaba un Vegetta en la misma posición con los ojos abiertos, mirando al techo y pensando en vaya a saber yo que cosa.

-¿No puedes dormir?-Me preguntó

-No…algo tiene tu cama, tío.

-Pero que dices, si tenemos las mismas, pringao.

-Que tiene algo y ya.-Ambos reímos, es que soy tonto…

-Guille…-Lo mire.


-Tú y Frank… sois… ¿algo?

-Pues, amigos.

-No tonto, si sois pareja…       …digo…-Me puse en blanco. En realidad no éramos pareja, habíamos tenido un encuentro sexual y nos habíamos liado varias veces, pero siempre sin compromiso. Él puede estar con quién quiera y yo igual, no, definitivamente no éramos novios.


-Ah…entonces si hago esto no va a estar mal del todo…-Lo mire confundido y en eso aprovecho y tomo mi rostro y sep.




Esta situación se me hace conocida.

-Willy no te enfades no quiero que me correspond…-Lo calle.

-Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Calla.-Lo bese de nuevo.-Cállate y bésame.-Wow, parecía hasta un activo macho pecho peludo con esa forma de hablar…

-Ala Ala Ala… ¿y esto? Pero tu… desde cuando eres…yo…-Lo bese de nuevo.

-¡Que te calles tío! Tú me gustas. Y yo te gusto, ¿no? Bueno, pues… No tiene nada de malo que me beses…

-Entonces tampoco estará mal que haga esto.-Me tomo de la cintura y me subió a su cadera. Me beso nuevamente, pero esta vez era un beso diferente. Metió su lengua en mi boca, saboreándola, uní la mía creando un baile.

Llevo sus manos a mi espalda, acariciándola dulcemente. Fue bajando sus manos hasta que se posaron en mi culo. Lo apretó fuertemente mientras llevaba su boca a mi cuello y lo mordía.

-Ah…-Acababa de gemir. Oh No. Ya sé por dónde va esto.


Y me gusta…

Metió sus manos dentro mi pantalón de pijama y toco mi culo más libremente. Masajeándolo.

-Oye…-Dijo deteniendo todo acto.-¿Quieres que siga?-Acerco su boca a mi oído- Porque después de esto, no me detendré hasta llegar al final.

Ahora fui yo quién acerco sus carnosos labios a él oído del más alto-No sé qué piensas de mi…pero no soy virgen mi querido amigo. Y Me gustan los hombres, así espero que sepas que clase de virginidad me refiero.-Como acto final mordí él ovulo de su oreja, sacando un  suave gemido de su  fina boca. 

Volvió a masajear mi trasero, pero esta vez más fuerte, con desesperación y rudeza. Este hombre me va a dejar partido en dos, no fue buena idea decirle que no era mi primera vez en estas cosas.

Me beso, lamio, succiono y marco mi cuello con su boca desesperada, hasta que empezó a bajar, dejando su boca en mis clavículas. Paso la lengua dentro de ese pozo que se formaba con mis huesos, logrando que arqueara la espalda.

Samuel se deleitaba con mis gemidos, mientras yo solo estaba quieto con mi boca entreabierta. Reaccione y me aparte, logrando que no pudiese seguir con su acto.

Le saque su playera que usaba para dormir, babeando por la vista que tenía. Tenía un par de ravioles pectorales, tenía todo tan marcado… era tan deseable el cabrón.

-Hey, una cosa más…-Dijo con la respiración agitada.-Esto se queda aquí, es un polvo, no estamos enamorados ni nada, ¿vale?- Eso dolió. Yo ya suponía que era cero compromisos pero no era para que lo diga así. Me sentía como un juguete sexual.

-Claro, igual no iba a ser más que eso. Espero no haberte ilusionado Samuel. -Conteste tan borde, que  hasta sonó hostil mi comentario. 




Luego de miradas fulminantes, desafiantes y completamente bordes, las cosas se pusieron tensas.  Los besos eran más duros, había rasguños,  marcas moradas, labios rotos, se habían sacado las prendas casi a golpes.

Vegetta me despojo de mi ropa interior, que era la última prenda que  faltaba por sacarme y lamio mi miembro. Empezó a hacerme una felación, pero en esta usaba los dientes, me estaba lastimando, pero era excitante, yo me retorcía por el placer y por el dolor al mismo tiempo, solo sentía muchas sensaciones en mi cuerpo.

-P-para. Duele…-Le tome del cabello y le subí hasta quedar a la misma altura de mi cara.-Déjame a mi quitart…-Me callo con un beso agitado. Mordidas. Lengua. Saliva.

Se sacó los boxers y se puso entre medio de mis piernas. Tomo mi pierna derecha y la subió hasta su hombro, me giro un poco para la izquierda, para tener un buen acceso a mi ano.

Me mostro 3 dedos, yo entendí perfectamente y los metí en mi boca, mi lengua jugaba con ellos provocativamente.

Los saco y cuando estuvo a punto de meterlos en mi lo frene.

-Te dije que no soy virgen. Ya he tenido sexo con otros hombres, tío. No necesito preparación. Entra de una vez gilipollas.- Y ahí están de nuevo los comentarios hostiles.

Me penetro de una sola estocada y no es que paro, NO. Siguió entrando y saliendo de mí con mucha brutalidad.

-Aah…Vegetta…es-espera…Aaah!! Si vas de esas me correré en menos de cinco minutos, t-tíoo…

-¿No que ya tenías experiencia? Callate Guillermo y disfruta. –Es que lo reviento a este idiota. No puede ser tan…tan… tan sensual y cabrón a la vez. Me penetro con fuerza otra vez, pero esta logro tocar mi punto, mi punto G.

Llevo su mano a m miembro y lo empezó a masturbar mientras entraba y salía de mí, tocando en ese punto. Me quedaba poco, pensaba que unos minutos, pero Samuel presiono mi miembro, logrando que llegue al éxtasis. Mi entrada se contrajo y eso hizo que Vegetta se corriera dentro mío. 

Nos separamos, para poder recuperarnos del orgasmo y dormir.

Me levante y cogí mi ropa interior que estaba tirada en el suelo, me la puse y me tape con las sabanas, mirando para el lado contrario de Samuel. El no dijo nada y eso logro que en mi mente haya paz y poder descansar bien. 




¡Hey buenas a todos, aquí Willyrex comentando!-Empezaba el nuevo vlog, cuando algo o mejor dicho ALGUIÉN me interrumpió.

-¿Willy? ¿podemos hablar?    

-Y  aquí el tonto a las tres. ¿No ves que estoy grabando, Vegetta?

-L-lo siento…-Miro al suelo.-Luego vengo…

-No prnga’o. Ya lo interrumpiste, ahora habla.-Dije riendo.

-Bueno…mira. Sé que sonara mal y que romperé tu corazón y tu respeto y probablemente me odies, pero…


-Soy heterosexual. No me gustas Willy, lo siento. Sé que estás enamorado de mí y que posiblemente llor…-Lo interrumpí.

-Calla. ¿Tú te piensas que YO estoy enamorado de TI?-Vale, sonó un poquito…insultante.-Tú me gustas, no significa que me quiera casar contigo. Lo de anoche fue un simple polvo, idiota. Tú estabas caliente y yo igual, aprende el significado de NO COMPROMISO, tío.  ¿Por qué no eres como Frank? El sí que entiende lo que es un simple polvo, besos, gemidos y al otro día ‘’hola, ‘como estas, tío?’’ NADA de ‘’amor’’ ‘’mi vida’’ sin compromisos.

-Wo wo wo… ¿Te acostaste con Frank? ¿Cuándo?

-¿Acaso te importa? ¿No quieres que te diga también que tan grande es su polla?-Vegetta se quedó callado.-Fue hace un mes, creo. Nos hemos liado muchas veces.

-Dijiste que no eran pareja…

-No lo somos. ¿estás sordo? ¡No es mi novio! Solo follamos y nos dimos unos cuantos besos, eso no lo convierte en mi novio, el sí entiende lo que es un polvo y adiós. Él se ha acostado con otros tíos, supongo. Al igual que yo. Nada, absolutamente nada, serio.

-Y me has usado para…- nuevamente lo interrumpí.

-¿Yo usarte?! Tú me gustas Samuel. Tú me usaste a mí, que eres un HETEROSEXUAL que tuvo sexo con un homosexual, solo para sacarse el calentón. Lo que TÚ sentiste, fue distinto a lo que YO sentí.- Con cámara en mano, pase por un lado de Vegetta y me fui a mi habitación.


Estaba sentado en la cama de Willy, cambiándome lo que vendría a ser mi ‘’pijama’’ para ponerme mi ropa, normal.

Me saque toda la ropa de dormir, menos él boxer y cuando me estaba por poner mi playera entro un Willy enojado, por la puerta. Con su celular en la mano y la cámara puesta.

-¿Paso algo?-Willy me fulmino con la mirada y se acercó a mí.-Willy dime, escuche gritos pero no me quería meter, ¿sucedió algo grave con Vegetta?-De repente, cuando pensé que me iba a pegar una hostia, choco sus labios con los míos, desesperadamente. Le correspondí y cuando el beso termino lo mire preocupado-¿Willy? Contesta…


-¿Que paso con él?

-No…No voy a dormir más en su cuarto, ¿vale? Voy a dormir en el mío…           …contigo.

-Vale, ¿me puedo explicar que paso?

-Discutimos porque piensa que por un puto polvo voy a estar enamorado de él.

-¿Puto polvo? LOOOOOOL CHAVAL, ¿TE ACOSTASTE CON SAMUEL? No lo puedo creer-Empiezo a reír pero al ver su cara me quede serio.

-¿Y sabes que es lo mejor? El muy hijo de puta me dijo que es heterosexual, JA. Claro, chaaavaal…

-Tranquilo, relájate…

-Y le dije que…bueno, él ya sabe que tú y yo follamos.-Lo mire flipando. Todo esto y yo ni enterado y eso que gritaron, pero no se entendía que decían.

-Okey, tranquilo. Mira como buen No novio que soy te voy hacer masajes. Acuéstate en la cama y espérame ahí. Voy a buscar crema.

-¿Cómo buen no qué?


-¿y qué es eso?

-Que no somos novios, pringao.

-¿No se hace con aceite los masajes?

-Sí, pero soy pobre, coño.-Fui a donde estaba mi maleta y agarre crema que es para el cuerpo. Si tengo crema para el cuerpo ¿ý? Soy hombre y uso cremas y QUE TIENE? Bueno, Frank.

Regrese y me encontré con un Guillermo boca abajo en la cama, sin nada de cadera para arriba.

Me subí encima de su cintura, pasando las piernas a los costados de esta y me senté.

Coloque un poco de crema en su espalda y empecé con mi masaje.


-Si… A..ahí si…justo ahí Frank

Moví mis dedos pulgares en forma de circulo en sus clavículas. Desplace toda la extensión de mi mano derecha hacia abajo y coloque mi mano izquierda en la parte de su cuello y con mis nudillos lo masajee.

-Mmh…que me quedo dormido.- Rio Willy con vos ronca.-Lo haces muy bien…

-Willy…No hagas ninguna  clase de ruidos, que parece otra cosa…-Me miro con cara de inocente.

-¿Qué cosa?-Acerque mi boca a su oído.

-Un gemido.-Susurre.

-Y bueno… ¿sabes? Podríamos…-Willy fue interrumpido por un hombre. Un hombre llamado Samuel De luque.

-Willy, perdón, escúchame, tiene raz…¿pero qué m-mierdis?-se paró en seco y nos miró. Esto huele a salseo.

-¿Vegetta?-Willy hablo mirándolo sorprendido.

-¿¡Que están haciendo!?

-Pintando un mural ¿te nos unes? ¿Y a ti que te parece que hago, Samuel?…

-¡ESTOY DANDOLE UN MASAJE A GUILLERMO! Malpensado. pór dios… Willy estaba estresado y le quise dar un masaje, nada más.

-No le tienes por que dar explicaciones Frank.-Willy me corrió y se puso de píe y enfrento a Vegetta.-¿Qué quieres?

-¿Sabes? Venía a disculparme, pero te veo ocupado.

-Sí, si no nos encontraste follando fue porque llegaste a tiempo, ¿sabes? Sí que estábamos ocupados y no entiendo la razón de tu disculpa. ¿Te arrepientes de lo de anoche o qué?

-¿Cómo puede hablar de lo de anoche en frente de sTaXx?

-¡QUE NO ES MI NOVIO! Puedo hablar en frente de el de cualquier mierda! Él no se pondrá celoso porque no es mi novio ¿entiendes? Somos putos follamigos. Y si no es mucha molestia retírate antes de que esta discusión tenga una verdadera razón para pelea.- Esto es verdaderamente incómodo. Me levante de la cama y fui y tome la mano de Willy y lo separe antes de que pasara algo peor.

-Tienes razón. Ya ni se para que vine aquí.




Estaba con Willy en la cocina tomando un vaso de agua, mientras charlábamos.

-¿Entonces  te follaste a James?!- Pregunte sorprendido.

-Sí, si ,si lo hice!. Al fin probé de su polla!

-Demasiada info, Willy.

-Ehje ehje- Río el de ojos chinos.

-Y…¿qué tal? ¿sin compromisos? O ¿es algo serio?

-Yo no tengo cosas serias, Frank. Él me dijo que me deseaba pero que no quería salir conmigo, y le dije lo mismo. Fin de la historia.

-Ósea que todavía podemos liarnos?

-Así es- Dijo riendo y acercándose a mí para besarme. Un beso corto, que hizo que hubiera otro más largo y eso produjo…cosas extrañas.

Introduje mi lengua en su boca y el hizo lo mismo. Le agarre de la cintura y lo alcé, enrollo sus piernas en mi espalda y lo tome del culo, todo esto siguiendo el beso.

Lo coloque en la mesada y le saque la camiseta. Fui a por su cuello y lo bese. Él se limitaba a gemir mi nombre. Tenía las manos apoyadas a los costados de sus muslos y con la cabeza a un costado para que pudiera tener más espacio en su cuello.





Volvía de correr, cuando entre a la casa y me tope con un Willy en boxers y un Frank sin camiseta y pantalones desabrochados. Estaba Willy tocándole el pecho mientras Frank lo besaba apasionadamente. Estaban pegados como chicles y se notaba a leguas que iban a por mucho más que solo besos.

Pase por enfrente de ellos para ir a mi habitación y al parecer notaron mi presencia porque se separaron instantáneamente.


Me quede quieto, en frente de la puerta de mi habitación. -¿Sí?-Pregunte, dándome la vuelta para ver a Willy poniéndose los pantalones.

-Tenemos que hablar.- Vino hasta a mi con los pantalones mal colocados y me llevo hasta dentro de mi cuarto.

-¿Qué paso?-Pregunte. De repente choco sus labios con los míos y me fue dirigiendo a mi cama. Me empujo y a hurtadillas de puso encima de mi.

-¿Sentiste algo?-Pregunto con la respiración agitada.


-Yo tampoco.- Me volvió a besar, pero esta vez fue diferente. Nunca me habían besado así…ni una mujer. Era un beso con amor, amor verdadero.

-Te odio, pero te amo Guillermo.- Tome sus muñecas y nos di vuelta. Me puse encima de él y lleve sus muñecas a arriba de su cabeza. Lo bese de nuevo. Me separo y me miro con cara de duda.

-¿Qué pasa?

-¿Lo haces porque estas caliente o porque en serio lo quieres hacer?

-Guillermo…Esto te lo digo con el corazón. No soy Gay, no me gusta absolutamente ningún hombre…que no seas tú. O estoy… e-enamorado o soy un hetero que está obsesionado con un Gay.  Tú eliges cuál de las dos opciones es.

-¿Puedo elegir cualquiera?


-Elijo la primera. Porque yo soy un Gay que está enamorado de un hetero y como no puede estar con ese hetero esta con medio mundo…-Vi como giro la cabeza para no verme a los ojos.

-¿Sabes? Mientras que después de esto estés solo conmigo…y no te folles a nadie más que no sea yo…está perfecto…

-Entonces somos…


Ya más o menos se imaginan lo que paso después 1313


Como están bonitos y bonitas??? Este es el one shot mas largo de toda mi vida Xdd

Espero e les haya gustado a montones<33 Loveeeeeeee pa’ to’ <3







A little hot for teacher thing - Michael Clifford [smut]

Requested - yes

carrieas01 - “could you do one where you tutor mikey, and he has a crush on you but you don’t know until one day you show up to his house early and he’s you know, pleasuring himself thinking about you and he likes moans your name and then you join him?”

Word Count - 783

You make your money in a slightly different way to most of your friends, while they have shitty Saturday jobs in McDonalds or paper rounds you’re a private tutor. It was your parents’ idea, what else is someone who’s quite far above average with their grades supposed to do. It helped that they found you some immediate business with their friends Mr and Mrs Clifford, and their son Michael. Michael was in your classes a year or two ago but you got moved up to higher intelligence classes, you only ever see him around the hallways, he’s so shy it’s adorable.

"[Y/N], thanks for helping out, Michael really needs help with his grades," Mrs Clifford says as she opens the door.

"It’s no problem, Mrs Clifford," because you’re paying me, you silently add.

"Oh call me Karen, Michael’s waiting in the study"

You walk in the direction he pointed to find Michael sat at a desk with books surrounding him, a puzzled look on his face as he tries to read.

"You look out of your depth," you comment.

He jumps and smiles seeing you at the door before nodding.

"Luckily that’s why I’m here, lets get started"

Over the course of a few weeks you figure out that Michael learns best from writing things out and listening to them so you get him to write out scripts for you to record and for him to listen to.

Getting closer to the end of year exams you decide to go over to the Clifford house a little earlier to maximize tutor time. Michael’s mum is out but you head up to his room only to see the door slightly open and hear various moans and grunts escaping from the room. Curious you peak in to see Michael in his room with the headphones he uses for studying on the floor and his hands down his pants, he’s certainly not reading books.

You should walk away, just come back in a little while, but you can’t stop listening. You never thought it would turn you on this much to hear Michael jerking off. 

This is wrong, you think but just then you hear Michael moan, “[Y/N]”

He’s jerking off to the thought of you. Does that make it any less weird to listen? Does he like you? You decide to leave but as you turn you trip over your own feet and fall to the ground with a thud.

"Shit," Michael whispers. "Hello?"

You pick yourself up and decide, fuck it, I may as well.

Gently you push the door open and Michael gulps, it only turns you on more to see him in such a vulnerable state.

"Maybe I could help you out?" you smirk.

He sighs loudly as you close the door behind you and sit down next to him on the bed. You glance at the prominent bulge in his trousers and sling a leg over him to straddle his middle.

"So you were thinking of me and it turned you on?" you tilt your head.

"I was listening to your voice on the recording and even that w-was hot," he stammers.

"You’ve got a little hot for teacher thing?" he nods. "I can help with that.

You kiss his neck making him groan before pealing his shirt from his skin. Once that’s gone you kiss down his chest, pushing him to lay on the bed, before crouching at the foot of the bed. You unbuckle his belt and slide his jeans down his legs while he fidgets. Next you tug off his boxers and take his length in your hand, pumping it slowly. He’s not looking at you so you take him by surprise and take him in your mouth, moving slowly, using your hands on the parts you can’t fit.

"Stop, [Y/N]," he commands.

"What’s the problem?" you question.

"Nothing, I just want to be fucking you when I cum," he says.

With a sudden surge of confidence he grabs you by the waist and flips you onto the bed with a giggle.

"You’re wearing way too much clothing," he smirks.

He strips you of everything you’re wearing, admiring your every curve as he attacks your lips and wastes no time in plunging himself into you.

"You like that, baby?" he says, hearing you groan. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two"

His hand slides down your body, finding where you need him most to help you along a bit.

"I hope you’re close, because I’ve held it in long enough for you," he says.

Soon his thrusts become sloppy and he climaxes, pushing you over the edge with him.

"Perfect study warm up"


Masterlist // Request

'Twas the night before Christmas.

Nazwa i link do oryginału: 'Twas the night before Christmas.

Pairing: Larry Stylinson

Autorka: Fifilarroo

Zgoda: JEST!

Tłumaczenie: Najna ;*

Opis: Harry nie może spać, więc idzie na dół po przekąskę, och, ale kim jest ten śliczny tyłek szturchający choinkę?

Od Tłumaczki: Kolejny świąteczny shot, który jest czystym fluffem i mam nadzieję, że pokochacie go tak, jak i ja <3

I jego także chciałabym zadedykować mojej kochanej Cass <3

PS. Prawdopodobnie powinnam go wstawić 23 grudnia, ale cóż… musicie mi wybaczyć.


Była noc przed świętami, kiedy to wszystko się stało. To nie był poruszający się potwór, ani nawet mysz.

Okej, ktoś się ruszał. I tą osobą był Harry Styles. Obudził się około trzeciej nad ranem i po przewróceniu się na drugi bok, zdał sobie sprawę, że nie będzie w stanie wrócić do snu, nawet na chwilę.

Mówią, że jest dzieckiem, ale Harry po prostu kocha święta. Kalendarze adwentowe, prowadzące do wielkiego dnia, mince pies*, grzane wino (może nie takie dziecinne) i oczywiście prezenty. Budzi się, żeby znaleźć pończochy, wypełnione dziwnymi, małymi, tanimi gadżetami, pędzi w dół po schodach, żeby zobaczyć drzewko otoczone zapakowanymi prezentami i całą swoją rodzinę razem i jest po prostu szczęśliwy.

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You and Luke were best friends in 8th grade but met again at your friend Ashtons party. PART ONE

Requested: yepperdoodles, Im just really lazy and didnt do it till now

Not my Gifs (i think i left the water mark on most of them anyway)

this took a while my fingers are cold and blah blah blah request whatever you want in my ask and I’ll do it over break

peace munchkins

"Okay?" One Shot

Author: Anonymous

Summary: Sam and Dean discover the reader has been cutting.

Warnings: self-harm

Word count: 644

The motel room was quiet. The boys were out on a food run, leaving you behind in the dusty room.

The hunt the three of you had been on had been successful, and though it had taken you a few days longer to gank the monster, you had saved a lot of lives. All was well.

Or so the Winchesters thought.

Already, in the back of your mind, the familiar voices were creeping back, and numbness began to spread through you.

“No,” you whispered, cradling your arms. “Stay strong, Y/N. You can do this.”

It was useless. With shaking hands, you unzipped your duffel, searching for your little green pill box. You grabbed it, and locked yourself in the bathroom, rolling your sleeves up to reveal little white and pink scars.
Most of the razors were clean, though a few had the odd splotch of blood, from the days you hadn’t been so careful cleaning up. You had made ten neat little cuts in your forearm when you heard the heart-stopping sound of keys in the lock.

“Y/N?” Sam called, knocking on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah,” you called back, “just brushing my teeth.”

You stuffed the pill box behind a stack of towels, and opened the door, pasting on a sunny smile.

“What food did you bring?”

Nearly three hours later, you were laying back on your bed, chatting with Dean about the next hunt, a suspected werewolf, when you heard the shower shut off.

“Woah, I didn’t know Sam was showering,” you said, your mind instantly flipping to your little box, stashed behind the towels.

“Well, yeah, what did you think he’s been doing in there?” Dean winked at you, taking a long drag on a beer.

“Nothing.” You grinned at him, forcing your thoughts elsewhere.

You spent the next ten minutes in agony, waiting for Sam to be done so you could run in and grab your stuff.

“Dean, could you come here a minute?”

Sam’s voice was pitched low, and it was so frightening to hear him sounding so angry, you nearly burst into tears.

A few moments passed, with the boys talking in low murmurs by the bathroom door. You curled up in your bed, knowing the jig was up.

“Y/N?” Sam was standing at the foot of the bed, holding your box. “Do you want to be explain this?” He dropped the box on the bed, where it lay traitorously still, mocking you.

“Not really,” you whispered, looking hard at the wall.

You felt a weight settle next to you, and even without looking you knew it was Dean. He gently grabbed your arm, and pulled up the sleeve, revealing your cuts and scars, old and new.

“Oh, honey,” he whispered, pulling you in close. “Sweetheart, why?”

You closed your eyes against the gathering tears.

” I don’t want to talk about it,” you sobbed into Dean’s chest.

“Y/N,” Sam said, the word coming out harsher than he meant. You curled even closer to Dean.

“Shh, hon, it’s okay, really. No one is mad at you. We just want you to get better. If you ever, ever want to talk about this, we’re here, okay?”

You nodded, sniffling. “Okay.”

“Can I take these?” Sam asked you, gesturing at the box.

You nodded again, swiping at your eyes.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” you said, hanging your head. “I-I just needed some release, I guess.”

The boys looked over at you, tears welling in both their eyes.

“Y/N, I promise, we’re here for you. If you feel like that again, you come right to us. I don’t care if it’s the goddamned apocalypse, you come right to us.”

Sam smiled at you, and dropped the green box in the trash.

“It’s over,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

How I Met Your Mother (AU)

Summary: Ryan decides it’s time that his kids know the story of how he met their mother, but there are plenty of other events that took place first. 

Pairings: Raywood and Juggey

Word Count: 5764

A/N: I pretty much wrote this based off the first episode of HIMYM. Oh my god, I just… I talked about making this AU and then I felt like I NEEDED to write something about it haha. So hey! Here it is! I don’t know if I’ll ever make it into a full length fic, but if I do, I’ll have this as a starter for it. :)


“Kids, have I ever told you the story of how I met your mother?” A shake of heads in response. “Well, I am now.”


There had been plenty of memorable things that happened to Ryan when he was fresh out of college and living with his two best friends, Michael and Lindsay, who happened to be together since the start of college. One moment he definitely could never forget even if he tried, was the day he met one of the most interesting people in his life – Gavin Free. It also happened to be the day Michael dropped exciting news on him, but that part comes after Gavin.

Read More

Plane rides and late nights

In which Camila and Lauren are internet girlfriends and they meet for the first time when Lauren picks Camila up from the airport

Camila and Lauren had been talking for almost two years (and dating for almost a year) when Camila brought up the question “When are we going to meet?”. When Lauren heard those six words she freaked out and didn’t call Camila back for two days. You see, Lauren is afraid of awkward situations. Her biggest fear is an awkward silence or an awkward glance because Lauren doesn’t know what the other person is thinking and that freaks her out.

For the whole two days Lauren gave the excuse “Sorry babe, my family are over” or “Can’t right now sorry. I’m in work”. Camila knew she was lying. Camila could always tell, thats what brought them two together. They could read each other through telephone lines and text messages. They loved that about each other because they both felt like they didn’t have to lie in order to get the other girl to love them.

Lauren eventually warmed up to the idea of meeting her long distance girlfriend.

“Babe, don’t worry okay. The plane won’t crash you are going to be fine” Lauren assured her girlfriend who was on the other line.

Camila was pacing around the entrance of the airport “Lauren you don’t understand. I’ve never been in an aeroplane before. Shit Lo, I can’t do this” 

Lauren was in her bed on tumblr when she got a phone call from the nervous cuban. Camila was supposed to be getting ready to go on the plane to meet her, why was Camila calling her?

“Look, you can okay? Just think camz when you get off that plane in 6 hours I will be waiting for you and I can kiss you for the first time and i can touch you for the first time. Just imagine it camz. You can do this”. Lauren closed her laptop and sat up from her bed to get a midnight drink.

“You’re right, Im sorry for waking you up”. Camila stopped pacing and sat down on one of the near by benches at Miami International. “I was just so scared and your voice calms me down” Camila said with a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about it. Just get your sweet ass on that plane so you can finally be mine” Lauren took a sip from her bottle of water as she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in her kitchen.

“I will see you in a few hours?” Camila knew it was a silly question but she needed a little bit more reassurance.

“Of course. See you later, beautiful” Lauren yawned as she hung up the phone and got back into bed. Lauren fell asleep with thoughts of Camila in her mind. The best way to fall asleep she thought.

Lauren’s alarm blasted three hours later. She groaned at the sound. But smiled when she thoughts of her girlfriend almost being in her arms. Lauren brushed her hair, pulled on a pair of ripped black jeans, a plain white shirt, a pair of vans and grabbed a hoodie from her draw incase the 2am LA weather was cold. Lauren also put on a bit of eye make up and foundation to make herself look presentable for the first time she sees her girlfriend. She then grabbed her keys to her 1969 red mustang. She loved that car more than anything, not Camila of course.

Lauren whizzed through the streets of LA. It took her twenty minutes to get to the airport. Camila’s plane didn’t land until 2:30 so Lauren had enough time to get a coffee. 

Once Lauren had drank her coffee she threw her cup into the trash and waited for her girlfriend. As she was standing there, it finally hit Lauren that her girlfriend who she has never met is probably just stepping off a plane. Lauren suddenly grew nervous as her legs shook and her palms sweated. Lauren looked up at the board as an announcement flowed across the screen, telling Lauren that flight 1432 from Miami to LA has now landed and passengers are getting off. Lauren took a deep breath as she prepared herself.

On the other side of the airport Camila walked out of the plane, as the West coast air hit her body she smiled when thoughts of the green eyed beauty, that was also known as her girlfriend, filled her mind. Camila was getting more and more nervous. Every step she took was painful for her jelly legs but she managed to get through security and get her bags in ten minutes. 

Camila and Lauren were a five minute walk away from each other and to be honest they were both shitting themselves. But anxious to meet the person that had filled their thoughts for the past two years.

Camila was ready. She grabbed at the handle of her bag and walked through the gate. As she walked out she saw a lot of people, a lot more people than she thought would be there at 2:30am. 

She searched the crowds looking for a green eyed beauty. Little did Camila know Lauren was doing the same for her. After a few minutes of looking Camila pulled out her phone from the pocket of her nike sweatpants. she scrolled down to Lauren’s contact and smiled for a second as she thought of her. Camila pressed the phone up to her ear once she had called Lauren.

“Lo, where are you? I’m at the entrance by the small coffee shop. Thats where you said you would be right? Oh god, I didn’t forget where we supposed to meet did I? Oh go..” Camila was interrupted 

“Turn around, Camz” Lauren spoke softly.

Camila furrowed her eyebrows but did as her girlfriend said. As Camila turned she was pulled into a kiss. Camila was taken back by the surprise kiss. When the kiss came to an end Camila almost passed out when she saw who it was who kissed her, her phone fell from her hand and so did her bag as she jumped on Lauren and started kissing all over her face. 

“Woah baby, save that for the bedroom” Lauren teased as a small smirk appeared on her lips.

Camila grabbed Lauren by the back of her neck as she grabbed her head and crashed their lips together. Lauren reciprocated the kiss as soon as Camila’s lips touched hers. Camila’s legs fell from Lauren’s waist as Lauren grabbed Camila’s hips and pulled her closer. When oxygen became an issue Camila pulled away and looked Lauren in the eyes.

“Hi” Camila whispered just loud enough so Lauren could hear her.

“You know your ass looks really good from behind” Lauren winked. 

Camila slapped her arm and tried to keep a serious face but had to give in as soon as Lauren started laughing because Lauren’s laugh has always been infections. When the two girls stopped laughing they locked eyes for what seemed like hours but in reality was probably only about 8 seconds.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here” Lauren picked up Camila’s bag.

“And i can’t believe I’m finally here with you” The two started making their way towards the exit of the airport “Your even more beautiful in real life, Lo” Camila stole glances at Lauren as they made their way to Lauren’s car.

“And you are also” Lauren glanced over tat Camila  “you look cold. Are you cold? Here have my hoodie” Lauren passed the jacket over to Camila. Camila took the hoodie but just folded it up and put it on her lap. 

The car was filled with laughter, loving stares and words from both of the girls. They had been in the car for 10 minutes when they pulled up to a highway McDonalds. Lauren can remember Camila telling her that she loved fries from here. “Fries, chicken nuggets and a coke, right?” Lauren recited Camila’s order. Camila had once told Lauren while they were face timing.

Camila smiled softly at Lauren and then nodded. Camila handed over the amount due for her meal but Lauren shook her head and pushed Camila’s hand away. “No Lauren take the money” Camila pleaded.

“Shut up” Lauren grabbed Camila by the neck and pushed her lips against hers. It was a quick peck but still gave both girls tingles in their hearts.

The food was handed over to them through the window of Lauren’s car. The guy that was serving them through the drive in winked at Lauren as she reached out to grab the bag with their food in it. This didn’t go unnoticed by Camila. Camila protectively put her hand on Lauren’s thigh and squeezed as she kissed Lauren behind her ear.

The guy, with the name James on his name tag, blushed and looked back at the two girls “Have a nice night” he turned around quickly and walked away from the window.

“Really camz?” Lauren laughed slightly as she looked at Camila with a raised eyebrow.

“He winked at you. He can’t do that, you’re mine” Camila squeezed Laurens thigh, her hand having not moved from when she protectively put her hand there.

“And you’re mine, and you know that. Don’t worry about 16 year old boys who think they can pick me up because I have you, you’re all i want” the green eyed girl reassured.

Camila smiled and looked down at her lap. How did she ever bag this girl, she thought. 

The two girls ate in comfortable silence with just the sound of faint music playing from Lauren’s radio. Camila could make out the sound of No grey playing. Camila loved the neighbourhood.

“Where are we going, Lo?” Camila looked outside the window. They were driving down a small road which had no lighting “You’re not going to kill me are you?” 

Lauren laughed “If I were to kill you, I would have done it already” She winked at her partner as they carried on driving down the small road. 

After another five minutes of driving down the small road, they were suddenly in a large spaced out field. “What are we doing here?” Camila asked.

Lauren didn’t answer the question she just opened the trunk of her car and pulled out pillows and blankets that she had put there before she came to pick up the girl. Lauren put out the pillows and blankets and sat down. “Sit down then” she pointed to the space next to her.

Camila sat down and looked at Lauren “You know you’re really sweet?” she asked.

“Of course i do” Lauren chuckled “I can’t believe ur actually here like, right in front of me” Lauren said as she touched Camila’s cheek. 

Camila brought her hand up to touch Lauren’s hand. “Me neither. All that time that we spent texting, calling and face timing finally paid off, huh?” Camila layed down in Lauren’s arms.

“Damn right it did, babe” Lauren looked up to stars. That night was clear, not a cloud in the sky.

Lauren and Camila didn’t speak after that. They both wanted to save the moment that they were in at that time.

“I love you” Lauren admitted first.

“I love you too”


Sorry for any mistakes this is just a little one shot that i thought of last night. Sorry the end is kind of rushed but I’m not good with endings :)

Christmas presents

Preference about what kind of Christmas present he gives you? 


He gave you a necklace with a small, pink shell on it. He’d found it in the maze one day, and he knew it was the perfect gift for you because you love to have that one something that you can always have with you. Minho wrapped it into some paper and made a ‘ribbon’ from a plant. After Minho got his present from you, he had a beaming smile on his face. “Minho, I told you that you didn’t have to give me anything. It’s okay, your love for me is good enough.” you grinned at him, but in reality, you were excited to get your gift. Minho was such a flirt, giving you something when you’d told him not to. But then again, he did the same and you gave him something too. “Hmm. Here you go, babe.” Minho handed you a wrapped gift and you already loved it. “You wrapped it? That’s awesome.” you chuckled at him and you carefully opened it, gasping as you held the necklace in your hand. You looked up at your boyfriend and hugged him. “Minho, it’s beautiful. I’ll treasure it and wear it till forever.” you whispered and you kissed him. Minho put the necklace around your neck and kissed you back. “Good that. It’s beautiful on you.”


He’d spend days and weeks and even months trying to get together the perfect gift. Thomas asked Teresa to help him, because she was your best friend in the glade. He’d put together a romantic picnic in the deadheads, with the best food that he could get from Frypan (he wasn’t too happy with it) and put down a blanket with a light. When Thomas leaded you there, with a blindfold, he was getting nervous. “Tom, are we almost there?” you asked, your voice soft and excited. “Yeah, we’re here.” Thomas pulled off the blindfold and you looked around. “No way,” you whispered, “it’s amazing! You did all of this by yourself?” you beamed, as you looked around the place. Thomas and you sat down and he chuckled, “No, Teresa helped me. I’m not that handy with everything.” “Well,” you whispered, leaning closer, cuddling into Thomas, “it’s absolutely perfect. Merry Christmas, Tom, I love you.”


He made a ring for you with one of the most beautiful stone’s in it he’d ever found. Newt wasn’t good at finding gifts, especially when you’re in a place like the glade, where you couldn’t almost couldn’t get anything. So he carefully carved a ring, and he melted a tiny stone in it. Even if Newt was saying it, it  looked pretty bloody great. “Hi baby.” you heard Newt whisper into your ear from behind you as he hugged you. “I’ve got you a present.” he came to sit next to you in front of the bonfire. “Don’t think I forgot you, you gave me a beautiful gift, I’d be shucked not to give you one.” Newt smiled at you and slowly slid the ring around your finger. “No way” you gasped. You scanned the ring and small tears appeared in your eyes. “Newt, it’s beautiful.” you leaned into his arms, and he kissed the top of your head. “It’s a promise ring, you see. That when we’re out of this place, we’ll get married. Or at least be together for a long time. I love you, Y/N.” Newt glanced at you. You kissed his lips and murmured, “as I love you.”

She wants me! Chatroom









Original Imagine: I just wanted a Supernatural x reader one in a CHATROOM where everyone fights over her. Please?
Reader Gender: gender neutral
Word Count: 757
Warnings: fluff, swearing
Author’s note:: I enjoyed this way too much

Your name: submit What is this?

Winchester & Crowley-Chatroom

(y/n) logged in
Dean logged in
Sam logged in
Crowley logged in
Crowley: Hello, pet♥

Sam: Why…is there a heart?

Dean: PET?!

(y/n): Hello Crowley and hello to you two as well. Always so polite…

Sam: Sorry, (y/n), I was just confused because of the heart. I mean, Crowley and hearts? However hey.

Crowley: I call her pet because she will be mine very soon, squirrel. I thought I’m the demon here, moose, use your brain.


Dean: And cut that heart crap shit. You don’t love (y/n) you love (y/n)’s body.

(y/n): Guys…?

Sam: Dean, you are as bad as Crowley! I remember that you told me that you wanted to fuck once and never again. Because no chick flick, right? I would be the best one here.

Crowley: O please, who would want a monster loving, demon blood addicted giganto?!


(y/n): I am still here!

Crowley: I know, love. I could never forget you.

(y/n) This was…kind of cute…

Dean: O please, it was not! (y/n), don’t fall for that guy. He’ll use you for sex only and maybe even forget your name after the first night. You deserve someone better than him.

Sam: Someone who does not sleep with a different girl every night, who doesn’t drown his feeling in beer and other alcoholic drinks. Someone who comforted you when you had fever while a certain someone *cough* Dean *cough* had sex with a blonde waitress in another room.

Crowley: Some whose girlfriend doesn’t die after fucking once.

Sam logged off

(y/n): Crowley that was too mean! I am disappointed in you. I never thought you would pull out that card

Dean: Exactly! You are so cruel, Crowley, way too cruel

Crowley: I know how I can make up for this

(y/n): Do it.

Crowley sent a picture to (y/n)
(y/n) kicked Crowley out

Dean: What kind of pic was it that you kicked him out?

(y/n): Well, let’s say, he really did sell his soul for three inches

Dean: Ahahaha! O my god, of course he would do that. Maybe you would like to see mine~?

(y/n) logged off

Dean: FUCK!

Dean logged off

Angels Chatroom

Castiel logged in
Balthazar logged in
Gabriel logged in
Michael logged in
Lucifer logged in

Castiel: Brothers, I have to confess something

Gabriel: You and Dean-o are finally dating! Congratulation! I hope you can finally sleep with each other so that the sexual tension will ease a bit

Castiel: No, not Dean. I think I have feelings for (y/n) and I want to ask(y/n), if s/he wants to…I think the term was date, yes date. If s/he wants to date me.

Lucifer: No, you are not allowed to ask (y/n). I will not allow you to ask anything. S/he is mine.

Balthazar: Note to Lucifer: You are the devil and you wanted to kill (y/n). S/he would rather want me.

Lucifer: I didn’t want to kill (y/n), I wanted to make her/him my Queen/King and rule over everyone and everything. I often told (y/n) that I care about her/him and I took care of her/him when Michael scared her/him to death.

Michael: It was not my attention to frighten her/him, brother. I told (y/n) that she should become my bonded or my angelss would torture her/him.

Castiel: Michael, I think you scared (y/n) that way. That is not how you speak to a human, especially not (y/n).

Balthazar: Right!

Gabriel: And s/he would never want to rule over someone. S/he wants people to be free and have fun. And s/he likes to travel through time and wants to learn some trickster tricks.

Balthazar: Hm, so you teach her/him some tricks and I’ll teach her/him how to use her body correctly.

Michael: Don’t talk about my bonded like that!

Lucifer: Your bonded?! (y/n) is mine, my life, my equal.

Castiel: (y/n) belongs to no one! It’s her/his body, s/he makes the rules, s/he decides!

(y/n) logged in

Castiel: (y/n), I have feelings of love and affection for you. Will you date me?

Gabriel: I know I always annoy you, (y/n), but how about we spend as much as time as we can together? As a couple?

Balthazar: Angel, you know that I love you but do you love me, too?

Michael: Be my bonded, (y/n). I beg you.

Lucifer: (y/n) by my Queen/King and I promise to always show you how important and loved you are.

(y/n): WHAT?!

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Bright Lights, Big Trouble; part 2

Summary: The Winchesters and the reader hit up Sin City to solve a case, but contrary to the popular saying, not everything that happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Author: fvckinpayno
Character: Dean x Reader
Reader Gender: female
Word Count: 3824
Warnings: Mild language, mentions of alcohol use, fighting.

A/N: Happy holidays to all you wonderful people out there! Because I got so many lovely messages asking me for a part two, I hereby present to you the second and final part to Bright Lights :) I hope I did a good job on this one, so feedback is greatly appreciated and very very welcome! :) x

Part 1

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Author: Rillyroo

Wordcount: 335

Warnings: None

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a post I saw on tumblr. It was all about Mrs. Weasley finishing up her famous Christmas sweaters for her children, her in laws, and her grandchildren.

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His treasure


Gif doesn’t belong to me

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairing: Eomer x [wife] reader

Notes: Some angst, fluff

Request: Anonymous - first of all, i love how organized your fic navigation page is! also, may i request an Eomer x wife!reader, where Eomer is always worried that reader will get hurt and then he gets banished and can’t protect her any more but then after the battle at Helm’s Deep he finds her again and its all fluffy? Could it maybe be from Eomer’s point of view, if thats not too hard? Obviously, you can not do it or make it different, bcs you are the author.

Word count: 594 

Note: Mainly told from Eomer’s POV [kind of]

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Regina is a biter.

Emma knew she was a biter from the start, when the mayor invited her into her home on her first night in Storybrooke. Emma’s nerves alone were enough to make her hold on the glass of apple cider falter. She would rather take down a felon than converse with the adoptive mother of her kid. Regina leaned forward, and Emma noticed how low her blouse went for the first time, forgetting the drink in her hand. The delicate crystal slipped from her fingers and shattered when it hit the dark wood of the table. In an attempt to catch the glass, Emma cut her finger on a shard. Before a tear of blood could fall from her ring finger, Regina reached out and brought the injured finger to her lips. Emma was caught off guard by such an intimate gesture by a near stranger- one that should hate her. She was unaware just how much the woman did. Regina slipped her finger between her full lips, and instantly relished the taste of blood mixing with the lingering cider. Her dark eyes met Emma’s wonder struck green ones. Her teeth closed around the injured finger, subtly increasing pressure unit Emma couldn’t stop herself from whimpering. The sound had alerted Regina of her actions, that she was seemingly unaware of. She gasped, releasing Emma, then rose calmly to retrieve a bandage. Emma glanced at her hand and felt cool, crisp air that replaced the older woman’s lips. She couldn’t help but feel a loss.

Another incident was provoked by Emma’s bold act of removing a branch from Regina’s beloved tree. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Regina stormed out of her white castle with a boiling rage, ready to kill. “Picking apples.” Emma knew she was playing with fire, but she proved her point by reaching for a fallen apple and bringing it to her lips. But before she could bring it to her waiting teeth, Regina’s were on her. Emma tried to fight off the shock and undeniable pain, but once again failed to contain a small squeak. This time, though, the noise didn’t stop Regina. She held on, looking into Emma’s eyes until she found the glimmer of fear she craved. At that, she slowly released, leaving a slim pink crescent on Emma’s arm that would last a week.

The next time Regina’s teeth met her skin, it wasn’t out of anger. They were also in public, so Regina was forced to use subtly, something she rarely enjoyed. Henry had just been pulled out of the mines with Archie, and as Emma held onto her son, Regina followed. Emma stood while the mayor fell to her knees, not caring for the state of her attire and only worried about her son. Reginas lips were level to her hip, and her teeth managed to redden the skin beneath Emmas thick jeans in mere seconds. But she held on for minutes. The blonde felt tears pushing behind her eyes from the pain and remaining adrenaline that was fleeing her body. She refused to cry, or make a sound, unlike Regina. Emma heard, but mostly felt, the vibration of a cry that left the mayors throat and immediately after she felt a wave of understanding for the mother. Regina didn’t want to hurt her, she just needed to be in control after losing it only moments before. After possibly losing so much more. Emma held onto Henry tighter and when her hand touched Regina’s, she didn’t let go.

Neither of the women mentioned any of the incidents, especially not the last, yet both continued to argue at every turn, even if only in public. Emma had not found herself alone with Regina until a few days following her discovery of the nature of her and Graham’s relationship. The mayor stormed into the Sheriffs station with her head held high and tongue loaded and ready to fire an arsenal of insults that would hopefully damage her victims beyond repair. And unfortunately for Emma, she was the target. 

"Hello Regina." The click of her heels, and the shift in atmosphere that screamed superiority, made it easy for Emma to know it was the mayor without needing visual confirmation. 

"That’s Madame Mayor to you. And just what do you think you’re doing? Wasting more tax dollars I see." She spat out the words as if it were vinegar on her tongue, with hate seeping from her gaze as she glared at Emma’s current position. The deputy was reclined in her chair and had her boots on the desk, resting on the stack of files Regina asked her to review last week. 

"Working." Emma was tired, and wasn’t as eager to fight as her companion. Until she heard what she had to say.

"Miss Swan, I am referring to your presence here. After your make out session with your superior."

She nearly fell out of her chair, but covered her clumsiness by opting to stand instead. Emma gawked at Regina’s use of slang, and spit out the first thought that hit her. “I’m sure I would’ve remembered making out with you, so what are you talking about?”

The image of her lips on Emma’s flashed through Regina’s mind- causing her train of thought to derail. She only managed to express one syllable without falter, “Graham.” 

Emma was unsure if the red blooming on the mayors cheeks was due to her reaction to the blonde’s comment or out of anger. Either way, she thought the look was adorable, no matter how menacing the intent was.

"Oh, that? It didn’t last that long- wait, are you following him?"

"No Swan! I have no desire to be involved in his affairs." Regina glared at Emma’s insinuation, and was answered with a snort. 

Of course,Emma thought, she would try to distance herself. But she wont succeed. 

"Ah, so you’re having me followed? Why else would you be here? You obviously care what he does. Or who."  

Her previously pink cheeks burned red, and this time Emma was sure it was out of rage and yet she smirked to herself and leaned back onto her desk, content with the reaction she draws from the woman before her. But the smug grin she wore threatened to fall as Regina strode forward, with her brown eyes turning black and her breath on Emma’s cheek as she spoke.

"Despite your presumptions, Deputy, I am here because under Storybrooke’s professional code of conduct it is highly unethical to have sexual relations with a coworker, especially in the same department. Due to your lack of denial about the situation, it is clear changes must be made. I would say how much sorrow it brings me to do this, but I find myself without any. You have until the end of the day to pack your things and leave. Just to make this clear in case the words I used were too difficult to understand- yes. you’re fired."

Emma was at a loss for words, she needed this job, she couldn’t leave now. This was the first time she had to fight to stay-

"I hope it was worth it."

Emma’s jaw was hanging open, her eyebrows scrunched into one, but despite the dumb look she wore she processed her situation quite fast. Regina had only just turned on her heel and made to take another step when she was stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

"It wasn’t."

Regina clenched her jaw, knowing she should simply keep walking, but ignoring the instinct completely. She turned, and Emma took this as a queue to explain.

"I don’t even like him. I mean, he’s a good guy, but not my type."

Before she could think, Regina spoke, with so much sincerity that she cringed at the sound. “Why tell me all of that then? To make me jealous?” 

"He was drunk when he came up to me, when he did kiss me I pushed him away."

They could both hear the longing in Emma’s voice. Just as Regina was about to pull her mask on once again, she heard the blonde mumble something. 

"For you."


Green eyes begged amber, pale lips parted to voice her true reason- but something broke within her. A tired sigh left Emma and she spoke without conviction. “I know how you feel about him.”

Regina gathered herself and stood with renewed purpose. “Miss Swan, you will refrain from assuming you know how I feel.”

And just like clockwork, Emma was also on the attack. “Well as you know, actions speak louder than words. And I’m sure you two sure exchange more actions than words Madame Mayor.” 

"I’m smart enough to know when to act and when to speak-"

"Oh yes, I’m just sure of that! The only reason he sleeps with you is because you own him, that’s why he’s not allowed to pick me, right?"

Both of the women were seething, voices raised and claws out. Regina’s voice dropped to a dangerous octave.

"Ms. Swan, you better-"

"Oh bite me!"

The moment the words left Emma’s lips, her eyes widened and Regina could see the apprehension between flecks of green and gold. Lust flashed through the mayor’s eyes and she didn’t back down, nearly growling,

"I just might."

 Emma felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and she fell victim to the sight of Regina’s lips. Never breaking her line of sight, she managed to whisper.

"Sounds like we aren’t talking about Graham anymore…"

"Who?" Regina heard the words, but wasn’t listening. There was an energy around the two that was waiting to ignite at the smallest spark. Emma wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, with her hands, mouth, teeth… 

"The reason I was getting fired…"

"Actions speak louder, Emma."

She spoke so softly, Emma might have imagined it. But in a burst of courage, she put it to the test and acted. 


By the end of the day, Regina had bitten her. Many, many times. Some left marks that lasted more than a week, almost all evoked some sound from Emma, but it only took one for Mary Margret to notice. 



Paring: Larry Stylinson (Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Opis: Są Święta, a Harry jest sam. W szpitalu. Umiera. I Louis nie może się z tym pogodzić, więc zabiera go na Święta do siebie, a potem.. a potem chce go zatrzymać na dłużej.. na dużo dłużej.

Liczba słów: 3529

Ostrzeżenie: miłość męsko - męska

Hej, obiecałam coś na Święta, mam nadzieję, że się spodoba ; )
Dodaję dzisiaj, bo Wigilia i pierwszy dzień był dla rodziny! Mam nadzieję, że wy również przeżywacie właśnie wspaniały rodzinny czas!
Ach, możliwe, że w tym shocie nadużyłam trochę określenia ‘choroba terminalna’, ale bardzo chciałam napisać coś w tym rodzaju, a wiecie co myślę o złych zakończeniach.. zresztą, są Święta, nie jestem okrutna! Enjoy :D 

W okresie Świąt Bożego Narodzenia szpitale zazwyczaj pustoszeją. Nawet ludzie z chorobami terminalnymi (a może zwłaszcza tacy) zazwyczaj wychodzą na ten czas do domu, by spędzić święta (być może ostatnie) w gronie rodziny. Louis miał okazję sam się o tym przekonać, ponieważ na trzy dni przed Wigilią trafił tam z powodu wstrząśnienia mózgu, którego doznał po upadku głową na beton.

Położono go w sali z tylko jednym jeszcze pacjentem. Cały budynek był prawie pusty. Nieliczny personel, niewielu chorych. Louis cieszył się więc, że w ogóle miał jakieś towarzystwo. Mieli go wypisać dopiero 24 grudnia rano, dlatego nie chciał być tam całkiem sam. Chłopak leżący na łóżku obok wyglądał na około osiemnaście lat, ciemne loki okalały jego młodą twarz, zielone oczy rozglądały się dookoła z iskierką zainteresowania, a pełne, kształtne usta wyginały się w lekkim uśmiechu.

„Łał.” Odezwał się, brunet, gdy już przyjrzał się Louisowi wystarczająco.

„Łał?” szatyn spojrzał na niego zdziwiony.

„Jesteś przystojny.” Skomentował tamten, unosząc kącik ust w górę w uśmieszku.

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