#(i know. I know what you’re trying to say! I understand how you got to this conclusion!)

[misshuntereevee]

The Winner Takes it All, part 2.

( part 1. )

Synopsis: You look like the MC, and you actually remember bits and pieces of the myth (not all.) But MC finally shows up, with no memory, and Sylus can’t help but be drawn in. What will happen?

Notes: Thank you guys so much for the love. Part 3 will be coming probably in a few days as I prepare to start a new series for Raf. However, there has been some interest in a taglist for this series. I won’t be doing this at this time, but I will keep considering. Comments, likes and reblogs are encouraged but not necessary. Enjoy the groveling. (Also don’t forget I’m not beta-read.)

Sylus knows he fucked up. The moment you were gone -- Miss Hunter ceased to exist. Multiple calls from her went unanswered. And he didn’t even wonder once if she was okay. But every moment since you’ve been gone, Sylus has been searching.

If you’re mad at him, that’s one thing. But he has a duty to you to make sure that Ever never lays a hand on you. And no matter how mad you are at him, he refuses to let that promise go. If he has to rebuild the trust… he will. Brick by brick.

But the pit in his stomach doesn’t subside when he sees you. He’s not a jealous man, never felt the need to be. But right now -- he understands he’s the closest he’s ever been to losing you. And he is feeling envy creep up into his veins.

You were flirting with the cashier. Well, he started it but you definitely were returning it. In all honesty… the attention felt nice. It had been a few weeks since you felt like you got this sort of attention.

The cashier is already blushing. “You know, I get off around -,”

“We don’t care,” a smooth voice comes from behind you, and a shiver runs down your spine. Sylus. You hate that it elicits such a reaction, but there would never be a day it didn’t. Your memories of your past life were hazy at best, but his voice — you don’t remember a single time it didn’t made you fall head over heels.

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder but with a loud huff, you yank it off spinning around. You’re angry. Passionately so. “Don’t you dare,” you hiss at him. “You don’t have a right—,”

“Keep the change,” Sylus tells the cashier, ignoring you.

The cashier looks between you both before he lets out an awkward low whistle and backs up. “Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not risking my life for a date with you.” And with that he leaves the customer service desk, leaving the two of you alone. You swivel around to face him, and you notice a swirl of emotions around his face.

Relief. Anger. Annoyance. Relief again. Adoration. And then finally in lands on one thing you didn’t expect —

“You were actually flirting with him,” he points out, his eyes looking… hurt somewhere underneath an accusatory jealousy. You don’t say anything. In fact, you grab the book you purchased and start walking out the door. He follows you, and you try to put your earbuds in. He takes them immediately with his Evol. You scowl at him and yank him into a nearby alleyway.

“What the hell are you doing?” You spit at him. “Leave me alone. If I wanted to talk to you, I’d answer my phone.”

A flicker of hurt crosses his face for a moment. But finally, he forces a calm look on his face. “My little bird, I know I forgot our —,”

A flicker of surprise crosses his face when you laugh loudly and bitterly. “Are you kidding me? You think that’s all I’m upset about?” He stays quiet, seeming to realize you aren’t done with him yet. In all honesty, he needs to hear what you say. Sylus knows he can’t fix anything until he knows how you’re feeling.

You frown at him before continuing: “She comes along and just because she looks like me she grabs your attention? Oh and that stupid fucking linkage bond thing ---,” How could you forget? You could resonate with him, yes, but there has never been any physical bondage connecting the two of you. That was new -- something only Miss Hunter had. And you had wondered —

Was it enough that you should doubt? Your fears were confirmed when he forgot your anniversary to take her home after a mission.

“And Ever wants you both,” he adds, his eyes narrowing. “Which was enough for me to wonder if you left… or disappeared.”

“Ha, no, more like your ego couldn’t handle that I left!” You say, poking his chest. He scowls at you. “And you know what -- I fucking remember. Does she?! I might not remember everything, but I remember! She can’t… she’ll never —”

You stop, your voice about to shake with tears. A lump forms in your throat, your chest tightening. You remember when he forced the blade through his heart. You remember slaying the dragon. And you remember the pain your past self carried -- everywhere. “Does she remember losing you like I do? However hazy it may be, she doesn’t carry that pain.”

And that’s when you turn away from him. A hand comes up, pushing tears away. “Oh, my little bird,” he murmurs behind you, his voice sounding raw. He can’t stand the fact you’re crying… over him. Self-loathing was the only thing swirling in Sylus’ red eyes right now. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I don’t forgive you. I’m not willing to fight with another version of myself for you. Go away,” you spit. You need time. And you start to walk away from him. However -- You’re only about two feet away from him when you’re yanked backwards. Something is tethering around your wrist, pulling you back.

“Stop it,” you hiss at Sylus. “Let me go!” But as you turn around completely, you can tell — this is not his Evol. You’d be able to resonate with him and make him stop. This isn’t that.

Sylus stares at it for a moment before there’s a small smirk on his face. “Well,” he says. “It looks like you’ll have to hear me out now.” A linkage.

***

“No, don’t you even start,” you say to him, staring at the link. “I’m sure if I just resonated with you — when you finally resonated with her, it went away right?”

You try to resonate with him but —

“You’re blocking it!” You accuse him. “You’re trying not to resonate with me.”

“What can I say? If my little bird flies away before I can tell her how sorry I am, that just won’t do,” he nearly purrs.

“Oh, I hate you. Stop this!”

“You have every right to be angry,” Sylus starts. Granted, you weren’t expecting that, so your response doesn’t come quickly. He keeps talking. “I admit… seeing her threw me off. But anything drawing me to her was pure curiosity, nothing more. Any other pull I felt — it felt empty. Like it belonged to you. Because it does.”

You cross your arms, pretending not to be fazed by his declarations. He leans down, gripping your chin. “You’re right, my Queen. You remember me,” he says. The other hand — the hand linked to yours by the bond — laces fingers with yours. You don’t lace them back right away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “If you wish for me to never see her again, I’ll let someone else investigate her appearance for me. I have to know — for both our sakes why she’s here. Just please -- I can’t lose you. You’re right.”

“Sylus —,”

“Please. You don’t understand. These last two weeks have been — eye opening.” He lets out a deep, ragged breath. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I mean it.”

A deep breath. Your thoughts are so consumed with confusion. Because you’re also curious to why there seems to be two of you - albeit two crazily different lives. You mean, she had her life and you certainly had yours.

But you also missed him. Your dragon. And the look on his face. You found it remarkable how this crime boss of a man could look like a kicked puppy, begging for forgiveness. And you absolutely hate how much you’re softening. How much you’re still attracted and pulled to him.

“Mhm. Fine. Come back tomorrow and apologize again just as passionately… and I’ll think about it,” you finally say.

His mouth opens and closes. “My little bird — okay. If that’s what you want.” And he takes your hand, ready to resonate and undo the linkage so he can leave you for the night. Sylus doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to give you a single chance to overthink it and -- not forgive him. But he also knows -- if he pushes this, he could lose you forever.

The glow of resonating begins — but nothing happens. Your heart drops. It’s not working. So… it wasn’t Sylus that was holding it together. A brief moment of confusion flits across his face.

He remembers what the scientists had told him when he failed to resonate with the hunter. That they wouldn’t be able to resonate because she was disgusted and angry with him. And in striking clarity -- he knows for a fact that it’s not him holding them back from resonating like he previously thought. It’s you.

“What’s happening?” You says, seeming a little panicked as the bond only tightens the more you try to pull away. In fact, the link tightens so much that you stumble forward into his arms. The more you try to get away from him, the closer you get.

“Hm.” Sylus says, staring at it. He’s currently trying to make sure he isn’t smiling -- this might be a small win, and he knows he has more opportunities to remedy your relationship. “I have a theory.”

“Okay -- so spill,” you say, your eyes widening at him. “I have work tomorrow, and I can’t bring you with me! You’re a crime boss!”

“We’re linked because you’re mad at me,” he finally says. “Or disgusted. Or --- you hate me.” He almost can’t get the words out. Because you can’t. You can’t hate him. There is so much he never got to do with you. You blink at him several times before it clicks -- you’re both bonded until he can fix what he broke.

[bruisedboys]

hi babe! can i request Remus with a reader who has naturally curly hair? i always straighten mine and hardly wear it natural unless im feeling brave 😭 everyone always gets so shocked when they see it but I hate it

hiii omg I am so very jealous of curlyheads, my hair is so flat and boring lol. curly hair is so so gorgeous and I’m sure it suits you so much!! thank you for you request, hope this is okay!

remus lupin x curly-haired!reader

You’re seriously considering calling off your date with Remus.

It’s not that you don’t want to go. You’ve been looking forward to seeing him all day, thinking about his lovely smile and the slope of his nose, the clothes he wears and the way he says your name. You like him a lot, and you want him to like you, too.

Hence why you got up two hours earlier than usual this morning, to pick out an outfit and straighten your hair before work, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it after. It’s only your third date with Remus, and he hasn’t seen your hair curly yet — you’d wanted to keep it that way. Only, it poured down on your walk to the bus after work, and your hair got drenched.

By the time you were home your curls had bounced right back up, and you had little time to tame them. You’ve done your best, but Remus will be here in ten minutes, and you’re panicking.

You run around your apartment with no real direction, going from mirror to mirror, desperately trying to flatten it with your various oils and mousses, but it’s still so curly. You’re just about to text him and cancel out of panicked desperation when there’s a knock on your door.

You know it’s Remus, you can tell by the way he knocks. He’s early.

“One minute!” You call out. You check your reflection one last time and decide, woefully, that you’ll just have to face him with your mane of curly hair. You don’t have any other choice than to grab your bag, and hope Remus doesn’t mind having a lion for a date.

When you open the door, Remus is fiddling with the zip on his jacket.

“Sorry I’m early,” he’s saying, distracted with his jacket. “I misjudged the— woah.”

You shrink back. He’s staring at you, really staring. You consider closing the door in his face.

“I know, it’s awful,” you say quickly, before he can say anything. Your hand flies to your hair, as if you can do anything to save it now. “I straightened it, but then it got wet, and I didn’t have time to—“

“Dove.” Remus cuts you off, gentle but firm in his own way. He takes your wrist in his hand, encouraging it away from your head lest you start abusing your hair again. “What are you talking about?”

“My hair,” you bemoan. “It looks crazy.”

Remus’ brow pinches like he’s confused. “No it doesn’t. You look beautiful.”

You make a sound somewhere between a moan of despair and a stutter of surprise. Remus steps closer to you, your wrist still in his hand.

“Is that your natural hair?” He asks. You watch his eyes as they move in a sort of halo around your head and you know he’s studying your curls. You’d like to say he’s admiring them, but you’re not sure.

“Yes,” you say quietly. “I look like a lion.”

Remus laughs, but not cruelly. “What?” He asks, genuinely clueless.

You gesture weakly to your hair with your free hand, as if to explain. Remus just shakes his head.

“You don’t look like a lion,” he says simply. “It’s really pretty. How come you’ve never worn it like this before?”

Because you feel prettier with straight hair. Because you hate taking up space, and you feel if you flatten out your hair you’ll take up a little less. You shrug and stare at the ground, wishing it’d swallow you up.

“Dunno. Guess I just .. don’t like it very much.”

Remus hums, like he understands, but doesn’t approve. “Well, I do.” He let’s go of your wrist and gets his hand under your jaw instead, encouraging you up to look at him.

“Were you really worried about what I’d think?” He asks, brown eyes kind.

You were, a bit. But you shouldn’t have been. By the way he’s looking at you, you guess that he’d think you were beautiful even if you went bald.

“I— no. Maybe a little bit.” You cringe. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Remus says, a little indignant. “What’re you sorry for?”

You’re getting shyer and shyer every word he says, your heart pitter-pattering in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you say. You sound a bit strained, like you might cry, which is horrifying. You swallow the feeling down. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it.”

Remus makes a tutting sound. “Y/N,” he says, exasperated now. He gets both hands on your face, your cheeks warm. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look? You know, my best friend James has wildly curly hair, and I’ve always been so jealous of it I sometimes want to rip it off his head.”

It’s a funny compliment, but you know he means it as a genuine one. You suddenly realise you’ve been a bit foolish.

“Right,” you say, and give an awkward chuckle.

“I’d never do such a thing to you, of course,” Remus says, grinning. “But it sure is beautiful. It suits you, dove.”

Carefully, he brushes a curl from your face, tucking it behind your ear with so much care it almost aches.

You’ve never felt prettier.

[bullet-prooflove]

What Puts You On That Ledge: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

References to:

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Companion piece to:

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

This God Damn Fucking Day - Jack steps into the fray with things get messy between you and you ex-husband.

Misdemeanour - Jack's forced to step in when you get arrested because of your ex-husband.

Fishtail - Jack helps you decompress in the aftermath of your ex-husband.

Love Language (NSFW) - Jack has his own unique love language.

Jack tries to hide the magazines, the ones with your ex-husband’s face on the cover. He doesn’t realise they even exist until he starts his shift and sees Myrna sitting there in her wheelchair engrossed in the glossy pages.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” He mutters as he snatches one up off the counter and flicks through it.

The main feature is a tell all article by one of the celebrities he fucked, Madeline Jaeger. She details the salacious affair that started when she was a patient of his, undergoing treatment in his recovery centre. The light touches that turned into a hand up her skirt, the hour long ‘sessions’ on his couch, then there’s the other stuff, the depraved stuff that Jack knows featured in your own bedroom throughout that marriage.

Did his wife come into your mind any point, the interviewer had asked.

Yes, Madeline had answered. He told me she couldn’t give him what she needed. She was emotionally cold, frigid. She didn’t enjoy the things that he wanted, not the way that I did. 

His stomach drops because your secrets are right there in print, for all the world to see. He wants to scream, to maim something, to destroy every single part of the man that hurt you but he can’t because the asshole has sequestered himself into one of his friends rehab clinics. Sex addiction he claims. It has your mother’s handiwork written all over it.

He destroys the magazines instead, collecting every single one of them he can find before he sets fire to them in the dumpster outside, an extinguisher in his hand as he watches the pages turn to ash.  

“You may have burned the physical evidence.” Myrna reminds him when he sits back down at his work station. “But the internet is forever Sweet Cheeks.”

“Fuck.” He hisses because that article is the first thing that comes up when he Googles your name. All of your achievements, the papers you’ve worked on, the journals you’ve submitted to it’s all pushed down underneath the weight of this story.

“You’ve got to tell her.” Myrna counsels, squeezing his arm lightly. “Better coming from you than anyone else.”

As much as he wants to protect you from this bullshit she’s right, he doesn’t want you to get blindsided by this mess, to have someone throw it in your face. He takes the elevator up to Psych, his heart palpitating in his chest with every floor that ticks by.

The moment he sees your face, he knows it’s already too late. Your jaw is clenched, your expression completely impassive. You’ve shut down completely, he understands. It’s the only way you can contain the damage to your psyche.

It’s how you got through your first marriage, don’t react, pretend it doesn’t touch you, that it doesn’t hurt you.

He finds you on the roof after his shift, standing on the same spot that he does from time to time. He hasn’t realised how terrifying it is until this moment, how there’s nothing to stop you from taking that step and hurtling over the edge.

“I understand now why you do this.” You say as he approaches you, his hand tangling in your lab coat, gripping it tightly. “How sometimes it can be the only thing that makes you feel alive.”

He understands the reality of what’s happening in this moment, you’re suffering the same affliction that he does. You’ve numbed yourself so much to what’s going on around you that you can’t seem to be able to flick the switch back on.

“It’s not the only thing.” He tells you as he lands a sudden sharp pinch on your ass.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You yelp and he tugs you back against the safety rail with his grasp on your labcoat.

“Hurts doesn’t it?” He murmurs, his breath ghosting in your ear. “Makes you irrationally angry?”

“Oh you fucker.” You mutter as you turn to face him and he can see the fire in your eyes, the life flooding back into you. “You just shrinked me didn’t you?”

“I learned from the best honey.” He says as he takes your hand and helps you back over the railing. “You’re the only one that’s ever been able to get me off that ledge.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[antiwhores]

Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.

[charmed-asylum]

Sad thing is she literally was paralyze by that one moment with him for him to slip in like the man behind the tree in a yellow suite …. Actually nah he was in full cameo or something because it was out of no where reminds me of those black and white movies. I think back and forth between these two parts

“ The one who looms like a shadow in your mind as he had that day on the street” because it felt so ahh damn. Like Brock he a different breed and thats saying something bc lol who would be closest to him because I’m drawing blinks pew pew. And how he simply grabs her hand and goes with the well ur mind now nope sorry I told u my name i know urs it’s written in stone . He so like who says shit like that ( looks both way ) does anyone find that hot or ring out the panties 🥵. And way he talks to her asking well telling her he taking her out

. Like you off yeah those muffins ain’t breakfast u need breakfast lol what idk my hands spinning and spinning like a cartoon . “ His hand is a snare and you’re a helpless rabbit caught in it. You look down at his thick fingers. You don’t understand. He was always so silent. You were sure he hated you.” I wonder if he one of those man anger men when he likes u maybe how Bucky can be like I’m not gonna shop but poof 💨 your mind. Like lol what and how long this man been watching her no speaking to her no nothing but bang ur mind . Hahaha man this man got some nerve ROOO HAHA WTF lord this man really came in with the ur mine been mine for some time now ring and house be ready by Friday we gonna celebrate our anniversary Saturday the dress and outfit waiting on your bed wear that perfume ur grandma got you for ur 16 birthday type of man.

And in one swoop he natch everything from her like I be damn and sat bc I mean u can try but he seems to go tho w threats

W this all said I’m addicted wondering what else is he gonna do

No Sugar Tonight 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your shifts are often tedious. Slow and dull. You like the night shift because it’s not as stressful. Or was.

That night you spend looking out the windows in expectation. For each customer that walks across the tiles with echoing footfalls, you wait in expectation. They come and get their treats and go. None of them are him. That stranger. The one who looms like a shadow in your mind as he had that day on the street.

Dayani is late. You give her the keys with a yawn. You get a day off and you’re more than eager for it. You’re relieved to leave shy of the dreaded encounter.

You head off through the front doors and turn down the street. The tree planted between the sidewalk blocks splits in too and as a figure emerges from the shade. Oh no.

You make to walk past the dark-haired man who prefers his coffee black. He simply turns and walks parallel to you.

You glance over at him warily. He doesn’t look back. He keeps walking, only reaching blindly to take your hand in his. You go rigid but don’t pull away. You’re jittering in terror.

“What are you--””

“You think anyone’s gonna mess with me?” He says flatly.

“No, sir, but--”

“Brock,” he says, then recites your name. “Now we know each other.”

Your mouth opens and closes. His hand is hot and a woodsy cologne wafts from his jacket. His skin is rough against yours. He squeezes as if he can sense your reticence.

“Brock,” you repeat. “Okay.”

“You got a day off.”

It’s a statement. It’s without a sliver of doubt. How does he know that?

“I told you, you’re easy to follow. You need to look around more.” He reprimands. “Too late to see me. I’m here.”

His tone is eerie. It makes your skin tingle. He drags you on but not towards your usual route. He also told you not to take the alleyways.

“Sir, er, Brock?” You murmur.

“Those muffins are too sugary. You need a full breakfast.” He insists.

“Right, that’s... okay. Erm...”

“It’s a nice place. You’ll like it,” he says bluntly.

You don’t know what to say, or do. You want to run away but can’t. His hand is a snare and you’re a helpless rabbit caught in it. You look down at his thick fingers. You don’t understand. He was always so silent. You were sure he hated you.

He takes you into a diner. You’ve never noticed it before. It’s quiet this early. He brings you to a booth and sits across from you. You fold your hands in your lap as you sit on the bench and wait. You could try then to escape but you wouldn’t want to make a scene.

“Coffee, black,” he orders as the waitress comes by. He looks at you for the first time and as you ask politely for a green tea, he doesn’t look away. His eyes bore into you. The waitress goes to get your drinks.

“Quit.” He says.

You frown, “huh? What am I doing?”

“Your job.”

“My job?” You utter.

“No need for it.” He says.

“Sir, Brock. I... I have to pay my rent.”

“No. You don’t.” He lifts his menu and drops his eyes to the laminated list. “You have to eat.”

You follow his lead, only to have something to do. You take the menu and read it. The waitress returns and puts down your drinks. He gets sausage, bacon, and eggs. You get a waffle. She goes and you’re alone again.

“Good.” He says.

Your confusion tautens in your cheeks. Good what?

“Call your boss.” He says, “then we can enjoy our meal.”

“I really can't afford to quit–”

“I didn't ask. In fact, I didn't ask a single question. I'm telling you.” He sneers.

Your heart flips and you bit your lip.

“I'm more than happy to tell him myself. He pays you shit. I'll take care of you.”

“I don't… what do you want from me?” You croak.

He snickers, the most humour you've seen in him. He reaches for his cup and drink. He grimaces at the taste. “That's dog shit.”

You sigh impatiently. You're getting frustrated by his terse way. Somehow he is straight to the point but you're completely missing it.

“You. Just you. That's what I want.” He sits back and pushes his shoulders wide.

“Me?”

He stares at you and nods.

“Are you asking me out?” You wonder.

“I don't ask,” he jabs his finger into the table with each word.

“I… I don't know you, I–”

“You're too old for roommates. The place is shit anyway. Those old wires will start a fire and the sprinkled are rusted.” He overrides you. Again.

“No.”

“No,” he echoes with a snort. “Again, no question marks here.”

“You can't do this.”

“Can't do what? It's done.”

���No.”

“Give me your phone,” he demands.

“No, you can't–”

“Give me the damn phone. Now. Or I'll burn down that box you call a home myself.” His eyes are black pools that threaten to drown you.

You reach into your purse and take out your phone. He snatches it before you can react. His thumb taps and drags quickly across the screen. He puts it to his esr as the waitress returns with your food.

You thank her quietly as he ignores her.

“Yeah, I'm calling on her behalf. She quits.” He doesn't wait for a response. He hangs up and dials again. “She's tendering notice. Moving out. Fill the lease.”

In a few fell swoops, he's cut every string holding your life up. It all comes crashing as he hands the phone back and turns his attention to his food. You're not very hungry. A glance from him changes that. You lfit your fork to ease the edge in his jaw.

“Good girl,” he says as he cuts into the sausage.

[twopoppies]

But a genuine question -- if he had early contact with very powerful people in the industry, why didn’t he do anything to help save the others, or at least Louis? And I don’t mean getting them signed as a band for another year, but just helping them get out of their contracts. He left the band as the most benefited.

I feel like some of you guys have no understanding of how the world works.

First of all (and I’ve said this a thousand times), we have no idea what Harry did or didn’t do. Liam and Niall had no problem going to other labels. IMO, Louis was kept under Simon’s thumb as punishment and as a way to control Harry.

Second, what do you actually think Harry should have done? I’m genuinely curious because people are always saying this. “He should have helped Louis.” But what do you mean? He should have told Jeff to reject all contract offers unless his boyfriend also got a better deal? How do we know Louis wanted his help? He’s awfully proud. I can’t see him wanting Harry to fight his battles. Be supportive and caring, yes. But try to pull strings? Is that what you mean? Introduce him to powerful people? And again, I ask: how do you know he didn’t try?

This is just such a circular argument because what you’re really saying is that Louis should have been given all the breaks Harry got. Which, sure. That would be amazing. But he didn’t. And that’s the way the world works.

And Louis knows this. So he pulled himself up by his own bootstraps and made a really good career for himself in spite of all the fuckers who tried to stop him. But comparing his success to Harry’s success and then begrudging Harry and feeling sorry for Louis, is pointless. And I really think that’s the last thing Louis would want.

Last, Harry left the band “most benefited” because Sony set their sights on him somewhere between 2011 and 2012. They had initially picked Liam as their breakout star. And you can see it from the beginning. But Harry had something the public responded to the most, so he became their golden boy. They were always going to sign him when the band eventually ended. And he had the ambition and talent to take the advantages he was being offered early on, and make something out of it all. The Azoffs weaseled their way in because they also noticed it.

None of this means the others weren’t also super talented and ambitious. But the label is only betting on one horse. They’re going to put all their money on the one who has the best chance of winning. And they decided it was Harry.

[highdramas]

peaceful road | dr. michael robinavitch

pairing: michael robinavitch x f!reader

warnings: language, age gap (reader is 29, robby is 50)

word count: 2392

summary: (small town au) you've lived in cradle point, oregon for nearly your entire life. when you come down with a nasty sickness, you meet dr. robby-- just having opened his new private practice after running away from it all.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. i'm very excited to kick off this series! i admittedly know little about operating a private practice, or medicine in general, so please forgive any inaccuracies. thank you for reading <3

--

dr. michael robinavitch starts his day at 7am, by habit more than anything else. he doesn’t begin seeing patients until 8am, but there’s something very comforting about the quiet of his office, the sound of the keyboard, the faint sound of johnny cash playing out of his speakers. he makes the short drive to work every day and he now has the time to stop for coffee, rather than make it at home.

life has been slower since that day in the pitt. that day that lead into an almost immediate sabbatical, which then lead to a resignation, he still has to fight off this notion that he gave up, that he conceded something. he wakes up and wonders most mornings still– how are they doing? how’s whittaker holding up? sometimes, he nearly texts dana to ask, then he remembers she’s now at a private practice, too. except she didn’t move across the country.

how could he stay in pittsburgh? what was going to be left for him there?

he loved the pacific northwest for a long time, after visiting one time with collins. he enjoyed portland, but he loved his time on the coast even more. when he thought about where he wanted a fresh start, that felt like a good a place as any.

after extensive research, he decided on cradle point. with a population of 1,500, and no private practice since the last doctor had moved away, it felt like a good place to try. and so he did. and after two months… well, things were going pretty well. it felt like he could breathe, while still doing the thing that he had burning passion for. he could save lives and not put his own mental health in turmoil every single day. he could step away from emergency medicine and live with himself.

that’s what he said to himself, anyway. sometimes, when he was feeling really crazy, he would go to the emergency room in lincoln city, and he’d sit in the parking lot and consider going in and asking if they needed an er physician. but then he always got back into his subaru and made the drive down the coastline back to cradle point.

he’s only on month two of operating his own private practice, and he doesn’t want to say that it’s perfect– he knows it isn’t. but it’s good. and that’s what he cares about.

hearing a tug at the door, his head pops up, tugging his readers off. it’s unusual to get anyone at his door until 9 or 10. he suspects that townsfolk are still trying to decide if they trust him– he gets it. well, not really, but he is starting to understand the small town mentality. the aversion to outsiders.

when he swings open the door and sees you, it starts up those same emergency medicine instincts. you look unsteady on your feet, holding a coffee, sunglasses on the crown of your head. “hi,” you say, voice graveled. “i’ve been wanting to come by and introduce myself–” you give him your name before you cough into the crook of your arm. “i’m sorry, i know you’re probably not open yet. my friends finally shamed me into coming, but i need to be at my shop at 8:30, and i saw that your light was on–”

“no, no. please, come in and sit.” he gestures to an exam bed which you hop onto. he can’t help his slight smile as you cross your legs and toss your bag into the chair by the exam table like you’ve done it the exact same way a million times. “did you used to see dr. jackson?”

michael doesn’t know much about his predecessor, other than that it sounded like he had pretty big shoes to fill. dr. angela jackson was beloved by the people of cradle point. that much was abundantly clear. you flush and laugh a little bit. “she’s my aunt.” you rub your hands on your pants and look at him sheepishly. “that’s a small town for ya.”

he laughs louder at that. “well,” he takes a step closer to you. “i’m not your aunt, but i’ll take good care of you. my name is dr. robinavitch, but most people call me dr. robby. i’m gonna do a quick exam on you and hopefully get you out of here.”

“thank you, dr. robinavitch.” you smile so earnestly it makes his heart stutter over itself.

shit.

–

you had a crush on the hot doctor. why did no one tell you that he was hot?

having lived in cradle point for your entire life, any new person moving into town was undeniably a big deal. it felt like, anymore, people moved away frequently, but there wasn’t a steady stream of those returning. of course, there was the tourists in the summer and the occasional retiree that would settle down on the coast. but most people didn’t feel like living out of the way of so much.

you loved your hometown. you loved the tall trees and the fact that you could walk onto the balcony off your bedroom and hear the faint crash of the ocean. you loved that your best friend erin was just like you, and had stayed, and that every day you could walk ten minutes down the road to see her. you loved that you could take your cat onto the beach in her little harness and leash whenever you wanted. you loved the farmers market. you loved being a business owner in this town. there wasn’t much that you didn’t like.

and you really loved when new people entered your orbit. there was a sort of excitement that it brought– it was so rare, how could you not be excited?

dr. robinavitch is thorough with you. you believe him when he says he’s doing to take good care of you. you’ve been going and going with little slowing since you got sick– not taking days off of work, carrying on despite your body screaming at you to stop. he cradles your face and gently presses on your cheeks, causing you to wince slightly. it’s then when he leans back and looks at you and says, “yeah, you’ve got a pretty nasty sinus infection. i’m gonna get you some antibiotics and you should be good to go within the next week. but you’re gonna need rest– no work. you think you can do that?”

“i can give it a really good try,” you say. “no, no– yeah, i won’t work. i’ll get erin to cover the store for a couple of days.”

“where do you work?”

“i own mazzy’s. it’s a bookstore on main street.” feeling bold, you say, “you should come by sometime, once i’m better. do you like to read? i can give you plenty of suggestions.” you pause, and add, sheepishly, “if you want, of course.”

michael, utterly charmed despite everything in him screaming at him not to be, shoves his hands into the pockets of his zip up hoodie. “yeah, i like to read. i’ve been driving past it every day and thinking about how i should go in. i’ve read through just about everything i’ve got.” that was about all he did during his sabbatical– reading, pretending, pushing it all down. “i’ll come by. i like sci fi.”

“sci fi! we have a great sci fi section–” you sneeze. “and fantasy, too, if you’re into that sort of thing.” you have that same sheepish look on your face and all he can think about is how sweet you are, how in fifteen minutes you’ve made him feel more welcome in this town than anyone else in the past month has made him feel. including his neighbors. no fault to them, he thinks; they would be in pretty stiff competition with you around.

no. you’re younger than him– twenty nine, he found out, as he was doing your intake. he may be having a midlife crisis, but he never fancied himself the type to go for a girl nearly half his age, let alone a patient. but then you start talking about a book called this is how you lose the time war and his heart does that same stuttering that it did earlier. maybe he should be the one seeing a doctor.

“--and, yeah, it’s a love story more than anything. a very good love story. not some of the cheesy slop that’s out right now. i mean, don’t the people want to yearn anymore?” you sigh, clearly exasperated at your own train of thought. you stand and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “anyway. i’m sorry, i’ll get out of your hair.”

“no, no–” he chuckles, the sound awkward in his ears. “stay in my hair as much as you want.” it’s his turn to flush, but you are too, and you meet each others gaze and laugh together. maybe there’s some knowing it that laugh. that neither of you can quite place it, but… there’s something.

“as much as i’d love to, i should take your advice and get my rest. thank you so much, again–” you open the door to the clinic, greeted by the torrential downpour that started at some point while you and dr. robby were in your trance. “wow. anyway, i’ll be seeing you.”

“oh–” he grabs the door, holding it open for you and looking out at the unyielding rain. “you drive here?”

“i walked. i’ll be fine, i–”

before he can think better of it, he says, “i can drive you,” a doctor for more years than he can count at this point, and he’s teetering on breaking the code of ethics over the first girl he meets. of course. “if you want. only if you want.”

hanging onto the doorframe, you smile a little and look out to the rain. fuck it. “sure. thank you.”

–

you both make a quick jog to his car parked slightly down the road, tugging your hoods over your heads. “this one’s mine,” he says, pointing to an immaculate black subaru suv. he rushes to open your door for you, making sure you’re safely inside before he hops into the drivers seat. the sound of the rain pounding on his car fills your ears, and you’re both slightly out of breath, looking over at each other and smiling. “wouldn’t have been a fun walk home,” he muses.

you blow out a puff of air. “no, it wouldn’t have.” you lean your head back against the seat, sniffling some. “thank you.”

“my pleasure.” you’re still looking at each other for a beat when he clears his throat, starting up the car. “you lead the way.”

you provide him instructions on how to get to your small seaside cottage. it was your parents home– when they decided they were ready to go on and retire in southern california, tired of the rain of the oregon coast, they put the house in your name. it was your grandparents home before that, the entire house wrapped up in the history of your last name.

you provide him anecdotes regarding businesses and landmarks as you drive past them. “that’s mrs. felicia’s diner. have you eaten there yet? don’t get the pie. just trust me.” a moment later, “this is the lookout where high schoolers go to make out or smoke weed. it’s like, don’t they know they’re not that slick?”

michael listens to all your musings, riveted. having grown up in chicago, later relocating to pittsburgh, he’s always been a big city guy. big cities have their own charms, quirks, and rituals– but none the way that you’re describing to him. he likes that about cradle point. that you have a story for every square inch of this town.

“so. why did you move here?” you ask. it’s an innocent enough question, and you’re not the first person who has asked it but it still makes his heart seize up. “i mean– i’m just not used to new people. you’re probably gathering that none of us are.”

“yup, i’ve gathered that much.” he tries not to sound too irritable. it’s not your fault you’re asking. it’s not your fault that he’s so fucked up, that he feels like he can’t run fast enough away from his past. “i was just ready for a change.”

“and where did you move from?”

“pittsburgh.”

“did you like it?”

“yeah, until i didn’t.” he sighs. “i’m sorry. i’m not trying to be a hardass.”

shaking your head, you look down at your hands. “no, i’m sorry i’m prying.”

“don’t be. don’t be, really– i’m the asshole. trust me.”

you begin approaching your street. it’s idyllic– framed with trees, sloping hills with various beautiful beach homes surrounding it. the beach is but a stone’s throw away, and he feels a pang of jealousy. he’s certainly not without the funds, but a beachside home was not in the cards for him. “this is me,” you point to the home, and he smiles a little. of course it is. it’s quaint, but charming. there’s a beautiful garden out front and a cat napping in the front window. “thank you again.”

“you’re welcome. and about before, i–”

“nope. no more apologies needed.” you give a reassuring smile. “thank you for the antibiotics. thank you for the drive. and…” you fumble around in your purse for your store business card and a pen, scribbling a string of numbers onto it. “if you ever want a book recommendation…” you pass the card to him. “just let me know.”

staring down at the card, your logo– a cat sleeping on a stack of books– he rubs his thumb on the worn paper where you’ve just written your phone number with the word “cell” ahead of it. he wonders how long it’s been in your bag. if you give these out to just anyone. “i’ll do that.”

with a final smile and a wave, you speed walk towards your house. he watches to make sure you get inside safely. when the door has shut, he leans his forehead onto the steering wheel, a long breath coming from deep in his chest.

twenty feet away, you’re leaning with your back against your front door, your hand on your chest, an identical breath coming out of you.

[hiolovesnejihyuga]

INARIZAKI'S REACTION TO: you lost your voice.

ft: all inarizaki players.

warnings. not proofread. feminine pronouns. use of (y/n) once, i think. may contain spelling and grammar mistakes. translated from spanish (my mother tongue) with google translator (don't bully me, please)

author note. i'm so sorry if any of the characters are ooc, i'm new to writing for canon and not original characters.

When you showed up to practice, just nodding your greetings and offering smiles, without any sound coming out of your mouth, the team malfunctioned and panicked.

But before they could even ask, they heard multiple sounds coming from everyone's phones.

Suna is probably the one who checks what's up, and he's hit with a message you sent to the group chat.

“Hey, so- I lost my voice for a couple of weeks, so I'll communicate like this.”

KITA SHINSUKE

“…For weeks?”

Immediately shifts into protective mode.

Tells you to rest and avoid straining yourself. Doesn't want you to show up to practice, but if you do anyway, he'll just sigh it off.

Silently worried but doesn’t show it much.

OJIRO ARAN

“Ah, damn… that’s rough.”

Feels bad for you and tries to be extra considerate.

Helps you communicate when others struggle to understand, though it took him a few days to get used to checking his phone when talking to you.

AKAGI MICHINARI

“WAIT, WEEKS?! LIKE—YOU WON’T TALK AT ALL?!”

Panics instantly.

Tries to make you laugh, realizes you can’t respond out loud. Now panicking more.

He jokes about it, but if you glare at him, he'll stop. then the next day, he starts again

OMIMI REN

"...Weeks? No talkin'?"

The silence from Omimi is deafening. His usual stoic demeanor falters slightly as the situation hits.

He tilts his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. His mind seems to be calculating the implications—how he’ll communicate with you without your usual voice, how you’ll handle everything, and how long they’ll have to adjust to this.

"...I guess we’ll all have to adjust... somehow."

KOSAKU YUUTO

“So you’re tellin’ me… No teasin'? No witty remarks? No laughin' at our dumb moments?”

Looks genuinely heartbroken.

Promises to “speak double” to make up for your silence. Everyone, including you, just nod.

GINJIMA HITOSHI

“…Who do I need to fight?”

Doesn’t know how to handle it, so he just silently pats your head.

He tells you things like "you're brave for coming to school like this!", and you can't even get mad at him when he forgets you can't talk.

MIYA ATSUMU

“So yer tellin’ me I got a couple weeks without ya roastin’ me? Damn, what a loss.”

Pretends to be chill but is actually worried.

Immediately starts texting you memes just to make you feel better.

Promises to “speak double” to make up for your silence. Everyone groans, and you just shake your head.

“WHAT WAS THAT?! WHY DIDN'T YA REACT THE SAME WHEN KOSAKU SAID IT?”

MIYA OSAMU

“Hate to say it, but we’re doomed. We need subtitles now.”

Buys warm drinks for you and forces you to rest.

He may even buy you a snack, to let you know that even if you can't talk, you are appreciated.

SUNA RINTARO

“…Kinda eerie without ya talkin’.”

Texts you random things to keep you entertained.

Helps you communicate with the team subtly, but definitely teases you about it.

Him and you texting, even if you were next to each other, has always been a normal thing. So it didn't change much.

RISEKI HEISUKE

“Wait, wait, wait—so, like, not talking at all?”

Actually devastated, and slightly shy because he doesn't know what to do or say.

Spends way too much time trying to figure out hand signals for communication.

extras.

Everyone starts learning how to communicate without words.

They text you or use notes when needed.

Some try to make you laugh and immediately regret it because you can't, and you are left with a sore throat (more than before)

Atsumu still annoys you, but in written form.

Suna takes advantage and texts you things like “blink twice if you think Atsumu is an idiot.” which you do.

Kita becomes your personal health supervisor.

The entire team becomes extra soft with you.

more under the cut.

After practice, Akagi keeps texting you jokes, Ginjima texts you a small phrase for support, Kosaku continues the conversation you were having before.. All that while the Miyas are arguing. Then, you give, not only to Atsumu and Osamu, but to the whole team a deadpan-blank stare, Aran says to the twins: "See? She's yellin' at you two in her head."

"She's watchin' you too, y'know?"

Then, a message notification pops up on everyone's phones.

"Why on earth are you texting me, when I'm the one who can't talk? I'm listening to you all.”

KITA SHINSUKE, OMIMI REN

They don’t even flinch. Just nod and move on like nothing happened.

Because nothing happened, they were the only ones who realized that even if you had no voice, you could hear them.

OJIRO ARAN

“…Oh.”

Feels dumb but just laughs it off.

Apologizes but still keeps texting you out of habit.

He may even develop a new talent.

The new talent: understanding you in conversations where you only nod or blink at him.

AKAGI MICHINARI

“Wait, so we didn’t HAVE to text?”

Visibly malfunctioning.

Yells, “WHY DIDN’T YA SAY SO?—oh, wait.”

Feels a little guilty when you glare at him.

KOSAKU YUUTO

“(Y/N). YA COULD'VE TOLD US.”

Immediately regrets saying that.

Facepalms. Hard.

Akagi laughs at him, because he said the same thing. you glare at them so hard that they don't speak for the next hour.

GINJIMA HITOSHI

“…I feel so stupid.”

Laughs at himself.

Says, “But be honest—wasn’t it funny watchin' us suffer?”

When you nod, with a teasing smile, he laughs again.

MIYA ATSUMU

“…Yer tellin’ me I wasted all my good jokes in text form for nothin’?!”

Actually offended.

Probably starts talking even MORE dramatically just to make up for the silence. everyone groans collectively.

MIYA OSAMU

“…So we just did all that for no reason?”

Shakes his head and walks away.

Will never let you live it down, and makes you promise you'll buy him food later even if that promise doesn't even make sense.

SUNA RINTARO

“…You enjoyed this, didn’t you?”

Just smirks. He doesn't care, because he probably already knew.

Takes a screenshot of the text and never lets you forget it.

RISEKI HEISUKE

“Damn. We really ARE idiots..”

Actually impressed at your patience for not telling them earlier.

Probably overthinks every conversation for the next week.

extras.

Half of them feel embarrassed.

Half of them find it hilarious.

Atsumu won’t shut up about it.

Suna 100% sends the screenshot to the team group chat, even if you sent the message there.

Kita and Omimi just nod and move on, they forget about it the next day.

Akagi is still yelling about it five minutes later.

You definitely knew they would be this stupid, and you surely let them struggle on purpose.

tags:

[billliesbabygirl]

possessive

i wrote this months ago so i kinda forgot what it’s about but i think it’s good! i just don’t wanna go back nd read it cause ill be quite embarrassed.

just trust me that it’s good

i have a lil mommy kink we don’t gotta talk about it

y/n

i’m at a party with my friend billie, she’s gripping my arm and dragging me everywhere she goes. she literally told me not to talk to anyone before we got here.

“billie that hurts just let me go! i wanna talk to my friend” i begged her, she always does this.

“you’re not going anywhere, got it?” she gripped me tighter, making me gasp in pain. she dragged me to a couch and sat down, pulling me onto her lap.

“you’re staying right here with me sweetheart, you’re lucky i even let you come here.” she said smiling and running her fingers through my hair.

“you’re so pretty, i could look at you for hours” she softly whispered, i blushed but i was so confused.

after a few minutes i see my friend walk towards us and i go off to talk to her, i see billie glaring at us.

i don’t know why she gets jealous when i talk to people.

she comes up to us and wraps her hand around my waist, her fingers squeezing my skin. “we’re leaving”

she grabs my arm again and pulls me out of the room. she takes me to her car and opens the door for me, pushing me inside saying “get in”

she closes the door and walks over to the drivers side “if you ever talk to that bitch again i’ll kill her” she tightly gripped on to my hand.

“okay” i didn’t want her to get more mad. her attention turns to the road until we get to her house.

“don’t try to leave sweetheart, you’re all mine now” i just nodded and followed her inside.

she took me to her bed and told me to stay still.

“you say red if you want me to stop okay? that’s your safe word baby.” she looks down at me waiting for my response.

“tell me your safe word”

“red”

she smiled at me and kissed me softly. “that’s right baby, very good” she says before walking over to her closet getting a box of stuff out.

billie takes a soft silk black ribbon and walks towards me, she runs her fingers lightly along my arms before grabbing my wrists and tying them gently but firmly together so i couldn’t move my hands anywhere.

she lays me down and takes off my shirt, then she unclips my lacy pink bra, pulling the straps down.

she smirks at how helpless i look, laid down waiting for her to do something to me. she sucks on my breast while gently playing with the other one.

(guys i need someone to play with my tits also ignore me saying breasts i feel weird saying boobs i’m sorry)

“you’re nothing but a dirty little slut huh?” i just whimpered in response.

“you’re my little slut, and i’m gonna fuck you until you understand that you’re all mine” she smiles into my chest while sucking and leaving marks.

billie gets back up and starts taking off my skirt and panties, then spreading my legs. she laughs at my wetness going to my thighs.

“awh look at that, your pussy is practically begging to be fucked. such a wet messy slut.” she gets on her knees putting her face close to my heat. i whine desperately waiting for her to touch me.

“mommy please” billie smiles at my submission.

“look at you begging, so desperate.” she says in her cold mocking tone, keeping her hand away from my needy pussy.

“you’re mine now don’t forget that” she finally gives in, giving a slow, teasing lick to my pussy, making me whimper in pleasure.

she smirks against my skin as she continues to lick and suck at my pussy. her hand moves up to play with my breast again.

two fingers start to move in and out of my dripping pussy, matching the rhythm of me bucking my hips.

“you’re gonna cum for me, over and over again” she says between her licks and sucks. i whine loudly again in pleasure.

she sucks on my clit harder as her fingers pump in and out of my pussy, making me cum harder than i ever have, i literally started feeling like i could pass out from the pleasure .

i lay on the bed, sleepy and weak. billie takes out a vibrator and turns it on, the buzzing filling the room. she presses it against my clit, turning it up to the highest setting.

“m-mommy!” was all i could get out, she just laughs and continues to use the vibrator on my throbbing clit. she loves every moment of me squirming in pleasure. “you’re my little cumslut, huh baby?”

hearing her say that sends me over the edge and i cum again.

i try pushing billie away and move away from her a little, but she pulls me back to her and presses the vibrator on my clit with more pressure making my whole body shake from sensitivity.

“it’s too much please i can’t take a-anymore.. no more” my wrist strained against the rope as i try to squirm away from the vibrator.

billie just laughs softly knowing if i needed to stop i would say the safe word we had. “oh no baby, you’re not getting away from me now.” she pushes the vibrator even harder on my clit.

tears stream down my face knowing i was going to cum again.“please…” i say in a whimper.

“oh but i love seeing you so sensitive, i wanna make you cum some more. don’t you wanna make mommy happy?” she doesn’t give in, she uses her other hand to hold my hips still as she presses the vibrator firmly on my clit.

my back arches a little as i cum for the third time, my body shakes uncontrollably out of pleasure and pain. “mommy!”

“there you go sweetie, cum for mommy” she holds the vibrator still until i finished, smiling at my vulnerable state.

i laid there shaking and whimpering. i look up at billie with half closed eyes, she smiles down at me and places a kiss on my lips.

“this is just the beginning sweetheart, mommy’s gonna ruin you.” she says while putting on a strap on.

she pushes the strap into me roughly, making me cry out and whine. she starts fucking me harder, pounding my pussy.

“you sound adorable baby, you love mommy’s cock so much don’t you?” she grips my hips and thrust deeper.

“it’s too much please… mommy i can’t take it” she just shushes me and pounds into me roughly. i knew i was going to cum again soon.

“you can give me one more sweetheart. you can take a little more.” i just whine and she laughs, loving the noises i make.

“i can’t mommy i can’t” she shushes me and started to rub circles around my clit, sending me over the edge.

she continues to thrust into me as i cum, smiling down at me while watching me loose control, shaking and crying.

after i finished, billie gently pulled out of me. she unties my wrists and kisses them. “you’re so good at taking mommy angel.”

i don’t want to talk about it.

why is posting smut so embarrassing i cant believe people i know know that IIIIIIIIIIIII wrote this bullshit

i hope you likey

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x GN Reader NSFW head cannons

minors do not interact

This is going to be the last of NSFW things I’m going to be doing for a little bit I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of it recently and I want to get back to my comfort / domestic fluff stuff for now so I’m putting the breaks on NSFW content for a few weeks just till I can clear my drafts. I’ll most likely add on as I get more ideas same with all my other head cannons

Shadow usually likes to dominate in bed watching how you give into his touch beneath him

He will let you dominate every once in a while depending on how into it you are

Making sure you’re satisfied is is main goal whenever you two go at it however that gets done is fine by him

Shadow doesn’t have too many kinks he’ll try out whatever you’re into but he’ll always be sure to let you know weather it’s for him or not

This man cannot role play for shit, he doesn’t fully understand why you two would be pretending to be different people but he does enjoy seeing you in various skimpy outfits

If he’s at work and he’s missing your touch he’ll text you telling you to stretch before he gets home because he doesn’t want you to pull anything when he arrives

If you have any lingerie, no you don’t, not after Shadow gets to it that man will rip it apart like it was wet toilet paper in order to get to you so only wear your favorite pieces on his gentle days

Shadow prefers love making overall, taking his time to caress and appreciate your body and everything you do for him

Shadow has a breeding kink like you wouldn’t believe, he wants to get you pregnant so bad it’s ridiculous he of course wants you to want kids before he actually gets you pregnant so he is okay with you taking birth control

He fully realized his breeding kink after the two of you had a particularly good session and you jokingly said “I think you got me pregnant with that one” he was ready to go for another round immediately.

If he sees a pregnancy test box in your medicine cabinet he will start to get all hot and bothered he’ll make sure you’ll need it soon.

Shadow enjoys cock warming nothing feels better to him than sitting inside you after he has pleased you being in such close proximity however he often gets too swept up in aftercare to remember to do it

If you have sex while shadow is in his super form you will get pregnant his super form can defeat anything birth control included (that’s how you got nova and her twin)

Your pussy is shadows favorite candy he is very prone to getting pussy drunk forgetting about himself in the process what can I say he loves spoiling you

The first time you went down on him he almost proposed right then and there

[wvyik]

dean’s shy gf headcanons. d.w. ᝰ.ᐟ

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; general dating headcanons for my shy, sensitive girls! conclusion? you’re his awkward little sweetheart; he sees you, he gets you, and he’ll spend every damn day proving how much he loves you.

warnings; fluffy, teasing, very mildly suggestive content, protective! dean, emotional moments, pre-established relationship, sweeter than sugar, major cuteness overload.

notes; had sm fun writing this! hope you enjoy these soft moments as much as I enjoyed writing them! let me know what you think, and feel free to request more if you want to see more! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

words; 1205

DEAN TALKS FOR YOU WHEN YOU’RE TOO SHY.. Ordering food? Asking for directions? You just quietly nudge him, and he immediately understands. But if he sees you trying to be brave, he won’t jump in— just stands next to you, hand resting on your back, whispering “You got this, baby.”

DEAN LOVES TEASING YOU.. like, he’s constantly making little comments just to see you get all flustered. He’ll lean in real close and murmur, “Whatcha’ blushin’ for, sweetheart?” with that damn smirk. And when you hide your face? Oh, he’s chuckling and pulling your hands away.

YOU STRUGGLE WITH EYE CONTACT, AND HE ALWAYS FINDS IT ADORABLE.. Sometimes he’ll tilt your chin up with two fingers and say, “C’mon, lemme see those pretty eyes,” all gentle but firm. Other times, he’ll playfully move his head into your line of sight when you try to look away.

HE’S RIDICULOUSLY PROTECTIVE.. because in his eyes; you’re just this soft little thing and the world is way too rough for you. If anyone so much as looks at you funny? Dean’s throwing an arm around you and giving them the scariest glare. “You got a problem?”

DEAN SECRETLY LOVES THAT YOU GET NERVOUS AROUND HIM.. He’ll catch you fumbling with your words and just grin, all cocky. “Damn, sweetheart, do I make you that nervous?” But the moment you get overwhelmed, he softens up and reassures you, “Hey, take your time, baby. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

EATS UP YOUR AWKWARD ATTEMPTS AT FLIRTING.. If you ever try to compliment him, you’ll probably stammer through it, and Dean just grins. “Aw, sweetheart, that was adorable. You tryin’ to flirt with me?” And if you get flustered and deny it? He just chuckles and tugs you close. “It’s workin’, baby. Big time.”

HE’S OBSESSED WITH YOUR LITTLE MANNERISMS.. Like the way you fidget with your sleeves, or how you get shy when you compliment him. If you stammer out a “You look really nice today,” he’ll lean in all smug and go, “Yeah? That so?” just to watch you get all flustered.

DEAN IS YOUR ULTIMATE COMFORT PERSON.. If you ever get anxious, he’ll pull you into a bear hug, rubbing slow circles on your back while murmuring, “Deep breaths, sweetheart. I gotcha.” If you’re too overwhelmed to talk, he’s totally okay with just holding you in silence.

HE ABSOLUTELY MELTS WHEN YOU INITIATE AFFECTION.. Since you’re shy, you don’t do it often— but when you finally work up the courage to kiss his cheek or reach for his hand? He’s grinning like an idiot, heart skipping a beat. “Damn, sweetheart, you tryin’ to kill me?”

DEAN’S A PHYSICAL TOUCH MENACE, SO YOU JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.. He’ll sling an arm around your shoulders, pull you onto his lap outta nowhere, or nuzzle his face into your neck because he can. If you squeak or squirm? That’s just a bonus for him.

HE’S PATIENT WITH YOUR AWKWARDNESS.. If you’re struggling to put feelings into words, he won’t rush you. If you get too nervous in social situations, he’ll subtly shield you from attention. He gets that you need time, and he’s more than willing to give it to you.

JEALOUS, BUT NOT IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY.. If some guy gets too close, Dean just slides in between you two and goes, “Hey, buddy, she’s with me.” But if you’re just naturally awkward around guys, he’ll tease you later, “Damn, sweetheart, you’re nervous around everyone but me, huh? Guess I really am special.”

CONSTANTLY REASSURING YOU THAT YOU’RE PERFECT JUST THE WAY YOU ARE.. Whenever you second-guess yourself, whether it’s about your awkwardness, how you look, or anything else— he’s there, reminding you how amazing you are. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. Don’t ever think otherwise. I love you exactly how you are.”

SOFT FOR YOU IN WAYS NO ONE ELSE GETS TO SEE.. To everyone else, he’s all bravado and sarcasm. But for you? He’s tucking you in, brushing your hair behind your ear, whispering, “You okay, baby?” when he sees you retreat into yourself. He’s your safe space, and he loves being that for you.

GOD HELP YOU WHEN HE FLIRTS.. He thrives on making you blush. He’ll say something suggestive just to watch your brain short-circuit, then kiss your forehead and go, “Relax, sweetheart, just messin’ with ya.” (He’s not. He loves seeing you flustered.)

HE LEARNS HOW TO READ YOU LIKE A BOOK.. You don’t always say when you’re uncomfortable, but he knows. The second he sees you shifting awkwardly, playing with your sleeves, or avoiding eye contact? He’s immediately stepping in, guiding you out of the situation, pulling you close, or giving you a reassuring squeeze. “S’just us, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

HE ADORES HOW POLITE YOU ARE.. Like, you always say “thank you” when he does literally anything— opens a door, passes you something, even when he kills a monster like, “Thank you for saving me, De..” And he just snickers, ruffling your hair, “Sweetheart, it’s kinda my job, y’know?” But he secretly melts every time.

HE GIVES YOU SMALL BUT SWEET SURPRISES.. Dean isn’t big on grand gestures, but he’ll randomly pick up flowers for you after a hunt or get you something cute that reminded him of you. “Just thought you’d like it, sweetheart.”

HAND-HOLDING IS KEY.. At first, you’re too shy to reach for his hand, so he starts sneaking little touches, his pinky brushing against yours, his fingers ghosting over the back of your hand. And when you finally take his hand one day? Oh, this man smirks and squeezes tight. “Took ya long enough, sweetheart.”

CUDDLES ARE MANDATORY.. If you’re shy about initiating them, that’s fine; because Dean has zero hesitation. If you’re sitting next to him? He’s pulling you into his lap. If you’re lying down? He’s throwing an arm around you. And if you get all stiff and awkward, he just chuckles, “Relax, sweetheart. I ain’t lettin’ go.”

ABSOLUTELY LOSES IT WHEN YOU GET JEALOUS.. You wouldn’t dare say anything outright, but Dean notices. The way you suddenly go quiet, the little pout on your lips. Oh, he’s loving every second. He’ll lean down and whisper, “Aww, sweetheart, you jealous?” with the biggest grin. And when you deny it? He just laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “S’okay, baby, you got nothin’ to worry about. I’m all yours.”

LOVES WHEN YOU CLING TO HIM.. Like, if you grab onto his jacket or press up against his side in public? He’s thrilled. This man walks around like your personal bodyguard, keeping a hand on your waist, making sure everyone sees that you’re his.

WHEN YOU’RE SHY ABOUT BEING PHYSICAL, HE’S PATIENT.. At first, you’re not totally comfortable with PDA, so he makes sure to read the room. But once you start leaning into him, Dean gets SO excited. He’ll kiss your forehead and be like, “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

HE MAKES YOU FEEL SAFE LIKE NO ONE ELSE EVER HAS.. The world is loud and overwhelming sometimes, but with Dean? It’s different. You know that as long as he’s around, you’re okay. And he makes sure you never forget that. “Ain’t nobody touchin’ you while I’m here, sweetheart.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @missus-ackles @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡

[dreamdragonkadia]

A/n; I wanted something sweet and simple to write, and Percy was the target of my affection today. p.jackson x hades!reader

“Do you think the ocean would drown me?”

Maybe it was the way his fingers curled so easily around yours, palm warm against your colder skin, swinging your hands back and forth like they were meant to fit, like Yin and Yang.

Or maybe it was the way the ocean lapped at your ankles like a curious animal, all cool nips and teasing chills that barely registered beneath the heavy heat of the sun.

You stood at the shoreline with Percy, his sneakers already tossed somewhere behind you on the sand. The waves rolled in and out, brushing against your feet, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite catch. It was peaceful, so much so, your thoughts slipped past your mouth before you could stop them.

“Do you think the ocean would drown me if I went in without you?”

Percy blinked. Once. Then again, slower this time, like he was trying to make sure he heard you right.

There was a beat of silence.

You kept your gaze on the water, trying to ignore how raw and stupid the words sounded in the open air. Typical, you thought. Another gloomy, intrusive thought courtesy of being one of Hades’ kids. Even sweet, golden Hazel had her moments like that—dark thoughts she only dared voice to her half-siblings, as if only children of the Underworld would understand.

“Gorgeous…That’s a weird thing to say,” Percy said at last, his tone careful. Not judgmental, just... Percy…being honest.

You felt a flush creep up your neck and started to pull your hand away, but he caught it before you could, holding on tighter.

“No,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—okay, yeah, it’s a little weird, but like, not in a bad way. You’re allowed to ask stuff like that.”

You finally looked at him, and he gave you a crooked, lopsided smile—the one that always looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be flirting or apologizing.

“I’d be pretty pissed if the ocean tried anything,” he added. “Like, seriously, we’d be having words. Me and the sea.”

You huffed a laugh, not expecting that. “You’d fight the ocean?”

“For you?” Percy shrugged, smug. “Absolutely. I mean, it listens to me. Most of the time. I think it kind of has to respect you now anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m your girlfriend?”

“Exactly. Like, it’s a package deal,” he said, nudging your arm with his shoulder. “You’re with me, and I’m Poseidon’s kid, so the ocean probably knows better than to mess with you. Divine courtesy or something.”

You tilted your head, considering that. “So you’re saying I have… ocean immunity?”

He grinned. “Yep. Comes with dating me. That and killer free kiss. Won’t even charge you.” He was trying to make you smile. And annoyingly enough, it worked. You leaned into him a little, letting the gentle push of the tide nudge both of you forward.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“For what?”

You hesitated. “For not thinking I’m weird.”

Percy snorted. “Oh, you’re totally weird. But so am I. That’s kind of the whole deal.”

You laughed softly, letting your shoulder bump into his.

He looked at you then, really looked. Not with pity or confusion, but with that quiet, thoughtful intensity he got sometimes when he was thinking more than he said. The waves rolled in and out at your feet, like the ocean itself was waiting.`

Then, without a word, he gave your joined hands a gentle tug, pulling you closer until your chest bumped against his.

“Percy—”

“You’re not weird,” he said, a little more serious this time. “You’re… you. And I adore you. All of it.”

Your heart did a dumb little flip.

And before you could say anything else, Percy leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a movie kiss, rushed or dramatic. Just soft, certain, and salty with sea air. Like he had all the time in the world to give you, like he’d do it again and again until you believed every word he just said.

When he pulled back, he was smiling. “Told you the kiss was free.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning, but you didn’t move away.

“Alright,” you said. “But I’m still not convinced about the ocean immunity thing.”

Percy grinned, slipping an arm around your waist. “Guess we’ll just have to keep testing it.”

“If you throw me into the water, we are fighting.”

“Noted.”

[samvotary]

wincest/weecest fic rec list!!

hungry til well fed // sharingflannels 25k words

"There's a shared desire between Sam and Dean that is buried deep beneath the surface. The need to consume and be consumed that goes without the other's knowledge until circumstances bring things into the light. Like any form of tension, something's gotta give sometime."

miles to go before I sleep // Trojie 7k words

"Maybe, if he'd grown up without a gun in his fucking waistband, he'd have kept it to … spanking, or something. Yeah. Sam wants to be spanked like a racecar driver wants a bicycle."

Bullet for my Valentine // merle_p 8k words

"Stupid. He is so goddamn fucking stupid. Running his mouth like a fucking idiot, not knowing when to leave well enough alone. Bad enough that he just practically talked dirty to his little brother, which, Christ – he must be more stressed than he thought if his self-control mechanisms have started malfunctioning that badly. But no, no, he came up with a scenario straight out of a bad slasher film, as if that is something normal people talk dirty about, as if that is something Sam would seriously enjoy. As if – As if Dean hadn’t hunted his own brother through the maze of the bunker, eyes black and hammer raised to strike, not even a full year ago. As if Sam hadn’t, just a few weeks back, knelt at his feet, neck bared, waiting for Dean to deal a fatal blow with a fucking scythe."

Guardian Ad Litem // fraukatzen 24k words

"Sam has always called Dean “daddy” when dad’s not around. Dean likes it a lot."

(for you and me) i got no alibi // remy (iamremy) 23k words

"There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants."

turn the other // thecapn 13k words

"Dean Winchester has hit his brother before. In anger. When he deserved it. With his righteous right hand closed into a furious fist, he has distributed what he believes to be justice. It is not just his duty to keep Sam corrected, collecting penance, it is his right. This isn’t that. --- We all have our breaking points."

I will mar myself again // theknife 2k words

""Tell me you're not doing it on purpose." Dean says. There's a tremor in his voice, and he trembles, with rage and with fear and with love, above all. Sam doesn't reply. (Or: After Sam's wall breaks, he starts getting hurt on cases. A lot.)"

Hands Away // objectlesson 13k words

"When you’re horny and alone with one person in one room for a long time and you’re sixteen and all you’ve ever been taught is to love your brother more than anything, it doesn’t seem like that far of a leap to start imagining what his mouth would feel like around your dick."

Daddy's Got You // deanbaby 4k words

"Sometimes Sam gets really needy, and the only thing that will settle him is a good, hard, deep dicking from his big brother. Luckily, Dean knows just how to take care of him. All hail Sampussy. No ages are explicitly given, I picture Sam late teens, Dean early twenties for this fic."

sink into me // poetictragedy 4k words

"Sam doesn't understand why Dean has to go out to get sex, when he’s got Sam. (Sammy's sixteen.)"

A Winter Dawn // RockSaltandCherryPie 11k words

"Sam (14) and Dean (18) enjoy winter at a cottage up north while John's on a hunt."

I ain't no lady, but you'd be the tramp // tehdirtiestsock (thatotherperv) 11k words

"a human Lady and the Tramp, with dog-like sex" AKA the original abo fic of all abo fics. yeah. *this is J2 but i thought it was worthy of being included.

Co-Sleeping // 69inthe67impala 5k words

"Sam ends up on the wrong side of a genderswap spell and Dean wants to make the most of it."

heaven is a place // candycanesandlollipops 2k words

"Sam sticks his tongue out, berry pink like the underside of something sweet and alive you’re not supposed to see, and it makes Dean think of pussy lips. Wet and slick. A pale purple circle with a smiley face stamped on it sits in the middle of all that pretty pink. Dean tilts his head up, just a little because he’s tall but his brother is taller, and licks the pill off Sam’s tongue."

7 Minutes // formalizing 4k words

"Sam was not wearing that outfit when Dean dropped him off at his friend’s Halloween party a few hours ago. If he’d been wearing that, Dean wouldn’t have let him out of the house, let alone out of the car and into a den full of horny teenagers drinking cheap beer and listening to the Backstreet Boys croon about romance."

Skirting the Issue // formalizing 2k words

""Should’a been a real nice weekend, y’know? Just the two of us—no hunt, no interruptions. Could’ve made the most of it, but you had to start up with that jealous girlfriend act of yours…" Sam hates every second he's not the sole focus of Dean's attention. Careful what you wish for."

Tap Out // formalizing 1k words

"Sam tries—really, he does. But Dean doesn't believe in pulling his punches, takes him to the ground sore and sweaty every time."

Harvest // formalizing 1k words

"He always did fall too deep in love with things that could destroy him—a fast car on an open road, cheap liquor burning all the way down, and the way his little brother says ‘please’. Sam is sweet fruit coming into season, and Dean has sticky fingers."

Fireworks // formalizing 1k words

"When Sam gets up the courage to ask his brother for kissing advice, he’s not sure what he expects–maybe a little laughter, a strange look, eventually, hopefully, some actual advice."

Pink-Pussy Dream Girl // formalizing 1k words

"Sam is first crush, first time, first love hopeless for his brother."

take everything i want you to (you're mine) // loveinourowngrave 6k words

"Feeling clean is important to Sam. Lucifer finds a way to take that away. Dean finds a way to fix it. (post Lucifer resurrecting Sam in Beat the Devil. Dean finds out, potentially in not a great way, exactly what happened between Sam and Lucifer)."

Fortunate Son // slutbee 17k words

"Dean doesn't understand why Sam is different, why he won't just do what Dad wants him to. If he did, then Dad wouldn't beat him all the time. Dean tries to help him conform, but everything changes when he finds Sam's journal, which lays out all his freaky desires."

Like Mirrors in the Distance // orphan_account 13k words

"Sam chuckled and let his chin rest against the top of her head. “It’s weird,” he said. “The kind of shit you can admit to strangers. We barely know each other, but I could never say this stuff to Dean.” She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “It’s because we’re strangers, Sam. When we leave, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.” “Yeah,” he said. “I dunno if that’s a comfort or a tragedy.” She rolled her eyes at him and looked back out over the town. “Both, probably,” she said."

Birds on a Wire // killabeez 14k words

"Set between "Hunted" and "Playthings." Dean's not sure when, exactly, everything started to change."

Carry Me Over the Sky // killabeez 10k words

"Follows 2x08, "Crossroad Blues." Dean's running on fumes, and Sam's the match."

The Palm Oasis // fictionallemons 12k words

"John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam. Then a creepy guy from the pool makes an offer Dean doesn’t want to take but Sam won’t allow him to refuse—and the brothers edge over a line they’ve both been wanting to cross for a long time."

everything's warm when your heart grows cold // dollylux 1k words

"Sam comes home after a night out."

sure as the stars // dollylux 4k words

"Dean knew that letting Sam walk home from school alone was a bad idea."

Cry Little Sister // dollylux 2k words

"Sam wants Dean to play with him."

Know when to walk away and know when to run // deirdre_c 4k words

"Dean challenges Sam to a game of strip poker."

Mercy for you, none for myself // deirdre_c 2k words

"Dean enters the Panic Room at exactly the wrong time."

Bright Spark into a Flame // deirdre_c 4k words

"When Sam convinces him to camp out in front of the fireplace, Dean discovers that it's not so bad."

Between You and the Devil I Stand // deirdre_c 2k words

"If Sam can't fight anymore, Dean will fight for him."

and i know that the line is thin // according2thelore 15k words

"“It’s not working,” Dean sits down on the other end of the couch heavily with a whoosh, jostling Sam. Sam almost drops his book, and protests loudly. Dean turns to look at him. “We have to be gayer.” Sam barks a laugh, startled, but Dean’s expression doesn’t change. Sam sits up, putting his book down in his lap. “Gayer?” Sam tries to process Dean’s impassive expression. “Why don’t you tell me what you think that means?” Or: In order to catch a monster killing gay couples in Iowa, Sam and Dean have to dig deep and pull out the performance of a lifetime. Or...y'know. Not that deep. Written for WincestWednesdays July 2024 Event, Week One: "Performance"!"

Like the Real Thing // cianfrie 3k words

"With Dean, it’s always like this. A thousand years of waiting, then one minute to ruin everything. So Sam saves him the trouble. He looks straight ahead and murmurs, “Brady and I were together.” For a second, Dean’s foot lifts off the gas, and the car drifts slightly toward the center line. His arms go rigid, and the engine growls beneath them as he presses the pedal down again. He licks his lips slowly, then nods. “Okay,” he mutters, voice controlled and smooth."

Sams eyes were closed // Boys_just_wanna 1k words

"Two teenage brothers sharing a bed. What could go wrong?"

Matryoshka dolls // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 24k words

"The guy who dropped Dean off in the morning was in his late fifties, a mop of curly black hair and a boxy canvas jacket. Sam followed Dean through the motel room as he kicked off his boots and shucked his jacket. “Since… Dad. You’ve been—” “What, Sam? Since when do you give a shit about this stuff? I don’t go around holding up scorecards for all the chicks you’re not banging, you fuckin’ monk, you’d think the least you could do is—” “He looked like him, dude.”"

A shitty, earnest play starring someone else // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 25k words

"Sam could see himself letting his carefully-cultivated life go totally off the rails at Dean's sudden appearance: skip lectures, bail on friends, hole up with him in his stuffy little dorm room and fuck each other's brains out like they were in the pay-by-the-hour motels of their youth, waste his hard-earned money on greasy takeout and hunt some motherfucking ghosts, all while being hopelessly, unapologetically in love, the way he was before he had anything else to think about."

Acid // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 15k words

"Sam said, "You know I wish you just wanted to fuck me? That would be easy, they've got words for that kind of messed up." That just made Dean's pits sweat. He felt like Wile E. Coyote running into a tunnel painted onto a mountain face, little birds circling around his head. "Uh." "What do you know about Jeffrey Dahmer?" He'd been having a good day."

Yesterday, minnesota // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 29k words

"Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope."

I have to live here // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 30k words

"“Have you been doing laundry? Where are all my boxers?” Dean kept walking right into this stuff. Sam weighed his options and spoke carefully. “Half your boxers are in the second drawer of my dresser. You didn’t like going to get clean underwear, in the morning, so you made me clear out a drawer for you.” He paused. “I’ve got a drawer in your room, too.” Dean looked physically pained. “That… can’t be true.” Sam sighed and went back to his book. “I know you don’t remember, but we had a lot of sex. You’re gonna have to trust me.”"

Worthless cartography // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 15k words

"Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)"

Snooping and breaking things // Goshen (applecrumbledore) 18k words

"Dean kept looking at his ring on Sam’s finger, which was also his finger. To see the ring anywhere but his own hand seemed wrong, and seeing it on Sam’s hand specifically was… intimate. He couldn’t think of another word for it. Not more intimate than inhabiting Sam’s body, but it was close."

salt skin // Trojie 7k words

"It's about permission. Or it's about pain. Or it's about something else entirely, Dean doesn't fucking know. All he knows is, he doesn't have enough trust left in him to just leave any part of Sam in Cas's care."

snuff // chinablue 4k words

"There's nothing good on TV, and Sam's contemplating killing his father again."

Under Sufferance // veronamay 4k words

"From this prompt on blindfold_spn: Sam/Dean, touch-starvation. Besides other things, Lucifer touch-starves Sam in Hell as punishment (Sam did fall in the Pit with his entire body and all...). Once out, Sam cannot bring himself to ask Dean despite how badly he needs it. Dean needs to realize what Sam's problem is, and how to get himself to help, since constant touching doesn't exactly come naturally to him. Set between seasons 5 and 6."

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position Teaser

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Hello my lovelies!

I come bearing some excellent news and a teaser for the next chapter of Closed Position. The good news is...the chapter is basically done. I just have a smidge left to write and the editing. I can't give an exact day I plan to post because I do have a couple of travel days for work this coming week, but it will definitely be before the week is over. My guess is it will be around 10k words (shocking, I know) and it is in fact all from Kat's POV.

I do have more about this chapter after the teaser. It's basically a couple of past conversations to review because they will be referenced. So give those a quick skim as a refresher.

Now for the good stuff...

Week 8: Viennese Waltz Teaser

Stacia and Joe's eyes focused on Dieter for a beat before Stacia finally spoke. “I’m gonna need for you to tell me what the hell is going on because we’re getting inundated with calls from the press.” Dieter shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific…because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stacia scoffed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You know exactly what I’m talking about…the social media posts? The mystery brunette with you on the beach that’s plastered all over the tabloids? You’ve got nothing to say about that?”  I glanced over at him just in time to see the side of his lips twitch upward. “What is there to say? That I’m seeing someone? It’s my personal life. I didn’t realize I needed your permission.” Stacia looked like she could have punched the smug look off his face. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing over how worked up she was getting. She leaned forward, pinning Dieter with her eyes as they flashed with anger, “If it affects this show, then yes, you need to give a heads up. Our ratings may plummet over this...you realize that right? The fans have bought into shipping you two, and if they can’t do that, then they won’t watch.” 

Let's just say we get a very sassy Dieter during their weekly production meeting in this chapter. He sort of unleashes after this and it's kind of hot to be honest. 😏

Given that it's been a while since some of you may have read the earlier chapters, might I recommend you review the bits of past conversations below before you dig into the next chapter because we will be circling back to them. 😬

More under the cut.

From Week 1: Introductions (Dieter's POV)

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first.  “I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.”  I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.”  She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.”  I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.”  Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…”  She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure.  “My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.” Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.    I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.”  I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.”  She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?”  I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.” “Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.” 

From Week 5: Rumba (Part 3) (Kat's POV)

My thighs clenched together, the throb at my center was now unbearable. I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew there was no fighting it at this point as my hands dropped down to the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. The soft fabric was replaced by my fingers splayed across his bare chest. He leaned in and kissed me briefly before pausing and placing his hands on either side of my neck with his thumbs resting on my chin, gently stroking my face. He pulled back, his intense eyes locking with mine. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. I nodded in response, but then he continued, “If we do this…it changes everything. I-I can’t go back to the way things were before. It’s all or nothing for me.” He was deadly serious as his eyes bore into me, unblinking as he searched mine. His intensity took me by surprise, and only seemed to spur me on. I let out a shaky breath, his vehemence causing my heart to pound in my ears. I nodded again, “I’m sure.” He must have found what he was looking for as his eyes danced around my face, because it was like a dam had broken when his lips finally crashed against mine.

So, as mentioned, we have some angst coming up. Based on these two passages, do we have any guesses on what's about to go down?

That's all I've got for now. Until next week!

💜Mysty

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[whump-galaxy]

I've been thinking of getting into Magnus Archives... give me your thoughts... worth it? (You might be biased but I need to know-)

This will be a little disorganized, I apologize!

From someone who tried to watch it before, the first 15 or so episodes feel kind of slow. When you don’t have a big picture yet, these episodes don’t feel like building blocks.

However, as the series goes on, this view is fundamentally shifted and you realize that every episode, every name, every creature is important in some way or another.

From a writing perspective, all of the characters are extremely interesting. They evolve overtime when dealing with these insane new circumstances. I think the most visible changes are in Tim and Jon’s demeanor after the S1 finale.

I also love the intertwining narratives that talk about how we view people through what we’re told. We’re set up to absolutely hate a character, but find out they weren’t some evil asshole all along. Or another character that we assume knows very little, we find out they’ve been setting up and tricking others the entire time.

It can be complicated to keep track of. There’s a lot of names, a lot of locations, a lot of creatures, but often the characters will explain themselves what they think is going on.

There are some episodes that can be a little hard to make out when you have an auditory processing disorder like me. Anytime the tape recorder gets muffled, I generally have to focus on the video more to understand what they’re saying. But that doesn’t happen often.

If you’re looking for horror, whump, monsters, angst, etc it’s got it all. The main character struggles with his identity in this new world he’s been exposed to and it’s wonderful to listen to. He gets his ass kicked basically every other episode after S1.

The voice acting is top tier. Gertrude is a particular favorite of mine cause she just sounds exactly like what I pictured. But all of the VA’s have incredible talent, especially Jon.

I recommend this show highly, but only if you’re in the mental state to handle it. When I first tried to listen, I was not on anxiety meds, and it did cause irrational panic. Now, however, I am on anxiety meds and able to enjoy it fully.

I believe there are content warnings from episode to episode, but skipping episodes is a little difficult when 3/4th the episode may be a statement and 1/4th is the Archive characters talking.

Maybe I’m a bit biased, but I think everyone should try listening to it at least once. It’s easy enough to put on in the background while gaming or doing work. S1 was relatively slow, but S2-3 has caught me like a fish on a hook and is reeling me towards the end.

So go out and listen to it. Heed the content warnings. Take breaks if you need. And enjoy it!!! It’s good!!!

[sitkowski]

and i was making you a wish in every skyline ( jolly karlsson x noah sebastian )

pairing: jolly karlsson x noah sebastian cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ dom/sub undertones, a blip of angst, subby noah who’s a little bit of a brat, hair tie as a cock ring (don't try this at home kids), spitting, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, blowjobs, masturbation, praise kink. word count: 1.7k author's note: happy sunday, i'm still not over the new content so have some jolly and noah smut. deeply inspired by @ladyveronikawrites giving me the idea of a use for "the boyfriend's hair tie". title comes from "how big, how blue, how beautiful" by florence and the machine. divider by @cyberangel-graphics.

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3

Jolly has ulterior motives when he tells Noah there’s something wrong with the song and he wants him to stay behind to listen to it. He feels a little bad when he sees the immediate anxiety spread across Noah’s face as everyone is leaving. He isn’t trying to stress him out, he’s trying to get Noah alone. As soon as everyone’s gone, Noah makes a beeline for the computer, shoulders tense. Before he can touch the keyboard, Jolly’s grabbing one of his wrists, twisting it behind his back effectively enough to draw a surprised whine out of Noah’s throat.

“The song is perfect, I lied,” Jolly whispers in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just beneath it. “But you’re still not done here tonight.”

He feels Noah slowly relax into him and he uses his hold on Noah’s wrist to pull him away from the desk until he’s got him in the middle of the recording room. The led lights cast him in the soft, purple glow and Jolly’s never seen anything more beautiful. He walks a circle around him and he doesn’t even need to say anything, Noah just keeps both of his arms behind his back, one wrist clasping the other as he squares his shoulders.

“You’re amazing, you know?” Jolly stops in front of him so he can see his reaction, the way he inhales sharply before a bashful smile spreads across his face. He tries to duck his head, but Jolly tucks a hand beneath his chin. “Ah no. Eyes on me, baby. You know the rules.”

Nodding, Noah meets his gaze head on. “Do I have to repeat it?”

“You do.”

There was a time when he wouldn’t have, when Jolly had to wring the words out of him and even then it had been a struggle because Noah didn’t believe it. He worked hard to get him to understand he deserved every bit of praise anyone gave him. Noah would see it as ego, but Jolly had explained it to him that it was more that Noah should be able to show himself that he deserved the praise.

“I’m amazing.” he says it confidently, still blushing. “What do I get for saying it?”

Jolly likes when he gets sassy with him, when he makes it fun. He likes to let him set the tone of how this is going to go. He walks around him again, fingers tiptoeing along Noah’s shoulders until he laughs and lets out some of the tension there that he’s still holding. He only lets go of his wrist when Jolly starts to pull the hair tie free from it. Noah doesn’t have to be told to resume his previous position, he just does it.

“You look good like this,” Jolly says, stepping close enough that his chest presses into Noah’s, and his hands slide over his hips, curling around them and tugging Noah even closer. He moans and does his best to stay still, until Jolly reaches between them to palm his cock. His fingers close around him, stroking him over his pants. Noah doesn’t look away from him, but Jolly can see it in his eyes that he’s going to move, seconds before he does it.

Noah’s mouth collides with Jolly’s desperately, and he lets him. He kisses him back for a few minutes before he puts his hand around Noah’s jaw and pushes his head back. Noah whines again but Jolly only shakes his head. He leans in long enough to brush his nose against his.

“Take off your clothes for me.”

Noah takes off his hat and tosses it aside, before reaching back to pull his shirt up and off. Jolly watches him greedily as he leaves everything on the floor. His eyes track over tattoos that he’s memorized with his hands and his mouth, down to his cock which he’s become just as acquainted with. Noah stays still under his appraisal, waiting.

“You know what I’m going to do with this, right?” Jolly asks as he twirls the hair tie around on his finger. Noah nods. “You can say no, but I’d like you to try it for me.”

“Okay. You can put it on me.”

It’s a little unconventional, but it gets the job done. Noah whimpers as Jolly fits it around the base of his cock, and he has to check that it’s not going to hurt him while also making sure that there’s something to remove it should he need to be nearby.

“The minute this starts to feel more than just uncomfortable, take it off for yourself, okay? Don’t wait to tell me.”

“Yes,” Noah breathes out. 

Jolly sets an alarm on his phone for thirty minutes. That’s all he’ll risk him wearing the hair tie for. As it is, Noah’s grown more flush, and he’s getting twitchy. Jolly ghosts his fingers along his length, fascinated with the way it jumps beneath his touch.

“Perfect,” Jolly murmurs, giving Noah a chaste kiss. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me, baby? If you can make me come before the alarm goes off, you’ll get to come before we leave.”

Noah’s eyes gleam at the challenge. Jolly thinks that he’s just going to get on his knees right there but he doesn’t, not at first. Putting his hands on Jolly’s hips, he backs him up until he sits down on the sofa, and then he sinks down to kneel between his spread legs. Jolly puts his phone on the cushion beside him and reaches down to shove his sweatpants down his thighs. Noah immediately reaches up to grab onto his cock. He gives it a light squeeze and works his hand up and down a few times, rising up further on his knees.

“Wait,” Jolly curls a hand around the edge of Noah’s jaw, sitting up a little. Noah seems to know what he’s going to do without him having to say and he opens his mouth. The noise that he makes when Jolly spits on his tongue makes his cock twitch, and he presses his fingers beneath Noah’s chin to close his mouth for him. “Okay, go ahead.”

He watches as Noah gathers his own saliva in his mouth to mix with Jolly’s and spits it onto the head of Jolly’s cock. Never looking away from him, Noah drags his tongue down to the base and back up, spreading the spit around as he licks over the head slowly. Despite the current time limit he's been giving, he's taking his sweet time. He teases at the underside of Jolly's cock with his tongue and then takes him in slowly.

He settles in a steady rhythm, and if Jolly didn't know any better he'd think he's going to miss the alarm on purpose. He digs his fingers into the cushion beside him, eyes flicking from Noah's face to his phone before meeting Noah's eyes again.

"Hands behind your back again," he groans out.

Noah whines around his cock, doing what he was told. and Jolly immediately threads his hands into Noah's hair to try to guide him faster. He can hear him breathing raggedly through his nose, tears streaming down his face. He’s trying to be careful in how far he’s pushing him, but Noah presses his head back against Jolly’s hands until he’s able to pull off enough to suck in a breath. He’s crying now, which is something he does and something Jolly’s always been into.

“You can make me take it, Jolls,” his voice is absolutely wrecked and if they’re recording tomorrow then Jolly is going to be in big trouble. “It’s okay.”

Growling out a curse, Jolly takes him at his word. His fingers tighten in Noah’s hair and he shoves his head back down, until Noah gags around him. Jolly can hear the little sounds he's making in his throat, whining groans that push him closer to the edge, and Noah works to take him further into his throat. He's so proud of him and he thumbs the tears from Noah's cheek and licks them off his fingers.

“My beautiful boy,” Jolly whispers and he can see the pride in his eyes as he bobs his head. “Are you still okay down there?”

He nods as best he can, and Jolly looks towards his phone. Noah’s only got a few minutes left to go, and Jolly’s aware of his hand coming from behind his back to fumble to get the hair tie off. He immediately gets back in his previous position, humming around Jolly’s cock and moving his head faster. Jolly doesn’t even get a chance to warn him when he comes, but Noah doesn’t even blink, he just swallows it all and keeps sucking until Jolly has to give his hair a none too gentle tug.

The alarm sounds through the room loudly.

Noah pulls off, laughing breathlessly as he presses his face against Jolly’s knee. His face is a mess of spit, tears and come, and Jolly pets his fingers through his hair until he finally looks up at him.

“Looks like I won,” Noah murmurs. “Do I get to come?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Narrowing his eyes at Jolly’s nonchalance while he pulls up his sweatpants, Noah runs his hands through the mess on his face before reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his cock. Jolly pulls him up so he's back on his knees and so he'll be able to watch. Noah strokes himself hard and fast, his gasps and pants echoing between them. Jolly wants to tease him about being nicer to himself, but he's too distracted by how good he looks. He cups Noah’s face in his hand, looking down between them and watching the blur of Noah’s fist.

"You're incredible, you're so fucking incredible. Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

Noah lets out a noise, high pitched and desperate and comes all over his fist practically on command. He'd never done that before and Jolly watches on in awe as he slumps forward half in Jolly's lap. He tips Noah’s head back so he can kiss him, soft and slow until they need to pull away to catch their breath.

“C’mon, let’s get dressed and go home,” Jolly says, grabbing some tissues and passing them off to Noah.

He helps him back into his clothes and they lock up for the night. By the time they get home and get into a shower, Noah’s tired and boneless and Jolly makes sure he eats something for a later dinner before he bundles him in comfy clothes and into their bed. Noah’s unresistant as Jolly wraps himself around him and pulls the blankets up over them.

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