#and they do all their shit together at the same time

[leyavo]

Ghost getting badly injured during a mission that they have to call his next of kin.

Next of kin?? What do you mean next of kin.

Mrs Riley?! He doesn’t wear a wedding band to protect you. Not even at home, worried there’ll be a mark to show he sometimes wears one.

It’s then that the TF 141 find out he’s married to you. They’re all wondering what you’re like, convinced you must be in the same line of work.

You’ve been married for six years, only to be called if it’s serious like now.

Soap’s jaw is on the floor as you walk into the infirmary, you don’t even glance their way as you rush to Simon’s bedside. Your hand on his chest as you lean down to kiss his forehead and brush back his hair.

You’re well put together, a lightweight robe layered over jeans and a simple vest. Pops of colour on your olive thick framed glasses and golden wedged heels. Hair pinned back with a pencil, leather bag overpacked with a book, filofax, purse and little cosmetic bag.

Price introduces himself, shaking your hand. A dainty diamond ring sparkling on your finger. Your silver bangles jingle as you greet each man, repeating their names and they know Ghost has not told you anything about them.

All he told you is that he likes working alone, but sometimes works with others.

You stay at the base for a while till he’s well enough to travel home. Eating with him and the guys in the canteen, they’re still staring at Simon like he’s grown another head. Watching you two squabble about little things.

“Do not put that shit on my plate,” Simon grumbled.

“It’s broccoli not a bomb.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, shoulder bumping into his arm as you try to move him along in the line.

The art director job you have takes you all around the world, sometimes you get to meet up with your husband. Simon treating it like a mission in itself, you playing along as you talk to him over the phone as you walk the cobbled streets to see him. “Target engaged, moving in,” you whisper as you spot him standing outside a coffee shop.

FaceTiming him whilst he’s at base so you can show him the little trinket you found in an antique store. He’s laying down in his bed, headphones on so no one hears.

“Nearly the same age as you luv.” Anything to see that little poutie face and brows furrowed. He loves teasing you that you are older than him, but it backfires whenever he complains at his body aching. “You’re supposed to be young and spry.”

Being a couple years older than Simon, you’ve got your shit together. Which drew Simon to you. Both no nonsense, say what you feel and work it out. No games, no silent treatment.

“Watch your tone Si, you’re not in the army here. You’re home so don’t give me that shit.”

“Watch my tone, luv. You just flooded the bathroom!”

“You distracted me!”

“Why don’t I get some towels and we both sort it out.”

Once Simon’s fully recovered, you invite his team to stay at your shared home together for the weekend.

A cottage in the countryside, there’s an eclectic mix of vintage furniture and textiles. That one rug Simon shipped back from Morocco in the living room. Paintings, pottery and sculptures scattered around the rooms. Rocky, a German Shepard trailing after you as you give them a tour of the place.

You make friends with Price’s wife who’s around the same age as you. Even try to set Gaz up with a client you think he’d get on with. Bond with Soap telling him you lived in Scotland as a late teen where you had your first art assistant job there.

Price’s wife scheduling a double date in five months time. Simon side eying John. She’s also invited you to come stay for a girls weekend at the Price house.

[masterlist] & [Price’s wife]

[lazy4honey]

Hybrids: Wolf x Hare

I saw a post mentioning Wolf hybrid x Hare hybrid where the hare is dominant and I thought “oh a hare hybrid topping a wolf hybrid, cool!” only to discover they meant a power bottom… So this is a hare topping a wolf.

Contains: past tense, second person perspective, fingering, lube, condoms, anal, some dirty talk, a little rough, “pup” and “leveret” instead of “babe”, possibly friends to lovers and also a hate fuck…? NSFW & MDNI

As a buck hare hybrid, your long, powerful legs have already helped you find a good mate for your spring frenzy many years in a row.

And then your frantic performance during that month would scare them away, complaining about how you didn’t listen and should be more gentle and so on — all things you’d explained to them beforehand, which they had explicitly consented to.

Of course, you’d also tried sitting it out once, specifically your first time, but that went so terribly haywire you didn’t want to remember it.

Since the relationships never survived the spring, you’d start looking for a new mate the moment they ended. For this, it was useful to have a friend circle where each friend’s circle overlapped with other circles and then some more. It greatly reduced the chances of fucking yourself through your friends and then ending up with no friends.

However, this year, this well-tried system suffered a bug.

No, not a real bug, not a bug hybrid either — actually, that would have been leagues better than your current situation. Maybe getting fucked by a hybrid in possession of an ovipositor would have been an eye opening sexual experience for you.

This summer, an old friend had invited you to an outing where another old friend whom you hadn’t seen in years brought their partner who in turn brought some of their friends. Among these friends was a red wolf hybrid.

You were introduced to each other and happened to sit together, so you casually chatted a little with him. Finding him pleasant, you felt he would make a good additional connection to your network, and so repressed your solitary nature to talk with him more than you would have otherwise.

The next time you met was a coincidence. Both your friend groups had gone to the same beach and then spontaneously joined together. It was a fun time, and when the red wolf approached you, you were in a generous enough mood to exchange numbers with him.

You met every now and then, more often through your friends holding parties or going to clubs, and over time you became friends.

By autumn, you were close enough to meet alone, taking walks, going out for some coffee, or meeting at the library. It was quiet and cozy, but you still wouldn’t invite him to your home or go to his for watching movies together or such.

Then winter began and January rolled around.

You still hadn’t found a mate for your spring frenzy and were feeling a little anxious.

Actually, there had been a few candidates among the friends of Jules, the red wolf, but every time at the next meeting after chatting them up, they would awkwardly tell your various reasons why it wasn’t possible anymore. The most common reason was that they had already found someone different to mate with and were very happy.

Jules would then pat you on the back, lowering his already deep and sexy voice to comfort you.

But when he showed up on your doorstep on the first day of January with his tail wagging and asking you to be his mate, you suddenly understood—

This guy was doing the same shit as you!

And he was even worse, sabotaging your chances by excluding you when playing matchmaker for his friends!

You slammed the door shut, right in his face, and decided to cut off contact.

It was a pity for the nice time you had spent with him, but a wolf in rut was just as bad as a hare in their spring frenzy, and you weren’t about to get yourself railed by a wolf!

Unfortunately, Jules disagreed.

Ever since that first day of January, who knew how he did it, but he would follow you wherever you went the moment you left your house.

Buying groceries? He was there.

Going to work? Also there.

Shopping? There!

At first, he just wagged his tail. After a few days, he walked closer to you. Then he took every opportunity he could get to stick close to you, to touch you, first your fingers, then your hand, cheek and ears, followed by your sensitive neck, and he even went as far as creating situations where he could sneak touches at your butt and tail. To others, even your closer friends, it looked like you two were a pair.

But that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It was his dirty talk that started in February.

He would tell you whenever he got hard and the reason why. Be it your thighs outlined by your tight pants, the twitch of your tails and ears, or the way your eyes shone when you had a new idea on how to deceive him so he’d leave you alone, it all seemed capable of arousing him in an instant.

Then came how he wanted to ram his big cock into your tight hole, fuck you until you were all loosened up for him, shove his fat knot inside you and make you cum until you couldn’t anymore while he filled you with load after load of cum and made your belly bulge with his seed.

A few days after voicing these obscene thoughts that you didn’t want to hear, Jules suddenly started calling you Leveret. He hugged you tightly, his hard cock straining against his pants and poking your ass as he confessed in a panic so needy and whiny like you’d never experienced that he’d had a crush on you since autumn. He wanted you completely to himself, the less you talked with others and the more attention you paid to him the happier he was, and for some reason he decided the best way to keep you from dating someone else was by playing matchmaker for them.

It was utterly ridiculous.

You somehow managed to get him off of you and quickly left, wanting to calm down and reorganize your thoughts.

But Jules didn’t give you that chance.

He showed up at your door the next day. Before you could slam the door or scold him, he lunged at you, pressed you into his chest, and kicked the door shut.

Instead of nuzzling your neck like he’d done before, he stared at you, his brown eyes filled with a mix of determination and an attempt at looking pitiful, “Leveret, I didn’t mean to scare or anger you, I-I just like you so much I want to be with you all the time…”

“So you decided to ruin my life?” you frowned at him.

“No! No, I- Leveret, you can do to me anything you want, just let me be with you.”

You doubtfully stared at him. “Do anything I want?”

Jules eagerly nodded, “Yes! Anything!”

“And what if I want to beat you?”

His ears and tail drooped a little, but he tried to play it off. “That’s also fine! Even if you want to insult or punish me, I will accept it.”

You didn’t understand. “Why? It’s obviously making you uncomfortable, and I’m not—“

“Because it’s you.”

You felt your heart miss a beat.

Was this guy serious?

He swallowed nervously, “If-if you don’t want to…”

You closed your eyes for a moment. When you opened them again, you were expressionless. The red wolf stiffened, thinking you were really angry now, when you suddenly threw him over your shoulder, marched into your bedroom, and tossed him onto your bed.

He was still stunned when you pressed down on top of him and held his damned handsome face, squishing his cheeks together.

“Are you sure?” you asked, staring into his eyes.

He slowly nodded.

“Anything?” you asked again.

His eyes shone and you could feel his tail start wagging again as he gave you an enthusiastic nod.

“Well then, my little pup, let’s hope you won’t regret it, hm?”

He shuddered at your words, his eager eyes gleaming with a watery sheen and his cock pressing into your thigh as if he was about to start humping you right in this moment.

Considering he’d annoyed you for almost two months and ruined your search for a mate for even longer, you decided to relieve some of your pent-up irritation.

You roughly removed his jacket and shoes and carelessly threw them aside, then plopped your firm ass down on his crotch, triggering a muffled groan. Following that, you ran your hand down the close-fitting shirt showcasing Jules’ tight muscles, grabbed the hem, and tore it open. You felt his dick twitch against your ass.

“So you like it rough, huh, little pup?”

You leaned down, your hands sliding up his muscular abdomen to his sturdy chest and pinching his nipples. Your face stopped just above his, close enough to kiss if he just raised himself up a little, but your hands pressed down on him, preventing him from touching you and making the red wolf whimper pitifully.

“Then let’s fuck you up,”

“Leveret…”

Jules’ husky murmur was cut short by your biting kiss. Teeth collided and tongues entangled. His paws slowly slid up your powerful thighs and settled on your buttocks, kneading them in a way that his claws dug into your flesh and pulling your tail.

The pain elicited a moan from you.

Before the red wolf could feel happy with himself, you bit him forcefully enough to draw blood. Then you grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms up and securing them above his head.

“Little pup, why are you acting up? Just let yourself obediently get pampered by me, hm?”

“…Mhm.”

You bit his jaw in satisfaction and started making your way down, leaving bites on his rolling throat, his protruding collarbone, and his undulating chest.

His needy pants made you smirk.

Sitting up on his crotch, you let go of his wrists and got off of him. You licked your lips at his adorably confused look and grabbed him to turn him onto his stomach in one smooth motion. Like he did before, you grasped his tail and gave it a good pull. He shuddered and gasped as a tingle ran his tail up his spine and into his balls and dick.

“Leveret…”

You chuckled and held the base of his tail, massaging it while biting along his spine from his neck down to the small of his back, coaxing needy moans and shallow hip thrusts out of him.

Suddenly, your grip on his tail tightened and you pulled his ass up into the air. It was firm and round, with the reddish tail sticking out from his pants’ aperture at his butt cleft. After admiring his form for a moment, you ripped the obstructing pants off of him and found that he had completely foregone his underpants, immediately revealing his balls and his hard cock protruding from its sheath to your view.

Holding against the tail that reflexively pressed down due to his arousal, you leaned closer to examine his small puckered asshole, your breath spraying on the sensitive skin.

Jules trembled and his dick and asshole twitched as his claws dug into your sheets and he desperately breathed in your scent, trying to keep calm but still unable to resist pleading, “Leveret, hurry, do whatever you want, just fuck me, please!”

You bit his ass cheek, inducing another tremble.

“Sure.”

Then, hand sliding down from his tail to his asshole to circle around the delicate skin, you leaned over to your bedside table and retrieved a big tube of lube.

You held it in front of him, “You’re not allergic to anything in there, are you?”

Jules swallowed and focused his gaze on the small writing with some difficulty before shaking his head, “No…”

“Good,”

So you proceeded with opening the tube and squeezing some of the unscented gel onto his asshole and your hand. He shuddered at the cool sensation and hugged your pillow, desperately breathing in your scent in deep pants, seeming unable to relax. You didn’t feel like comforting him, but you didn’t want to really hurt him either, so you slowed your pace.

Holding up his tail with your dry hand, you used the lubed up finger of your other to circle around his puckered hole and gently prodded it. The regular motion allowed the lube to warm up a little and Jules gradually got used to the feeling.

And the moment Jules got used to it, he started causing trouble again.

“Leveret, hurry up, I want to feel you inside me… I’ve thought about how tight and hot you’d feel around my cock so many times, how your asshole would clench around my knot when you come from me pumping you full of my cum again and again and how you would cry when it gushes all out once my knot loosens, and then you’d feel so empty you’d beg me for more, for me to cockwarm inside of you, and— Ah!”

Annoyed, you unceremoniously shoved your finger inside his asshole and wriggled it a little. You felt the muscles of his anus clench around your finger, as if wanting to force the invading thing out, and you chuckled darkly.

“If you want to dream, go to sleep. Today, it’ll only be me fucking you, my little pup. I might not have that fat knot you’re so proud of, but I will certainly make good use of what I have and fuck you senseless. Just imagine you cockdrunk from my railing, begging unintelligibly, not remembering whether you want my dick to fuck you faster or slower. Oh, and once my spring frenzy comes, it’ll get real fun, then I’ll make you unable to even crawl out of bed…”

You whispered in his ear as you pumped your finger in and out of him, adding some more lube so his dry little hole could take you better.

The red wolf groaned and wriggled his hips, making you curl your finger and eliciting a low growl. Jules turned his head to look at you with his lustful brown eyes, and the way his husky voice arranged the words was simply baffling.

“Does that mean I’ll still be with you in spring?”

“…If you can hold on that long, maybe.”

His eyes curved as he smiled, overflowing with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, yet it felt all encompassing.

You stared into his eyes, lost in that strange yet cozy feeling until Jules suddenly hummed and shook his butt, and then you remembered that your finger was still sticking in his butt and what you were about to do had at least the slight flavor of a hate fuck, or maybe rather revenge sex.

“Leveret, please fuck me,” Jules whined and pushed himself further onto your finger, making his voice a little breathy, “I want to know what your cock feels like inside of me, I want you to touch and kiss me, I want…” He panted as he twisted his neck to look at you, “I want you…”

As you wondered if there would ever be a day when his sweet or dirty talk wouldn’t set you off like a firecracker, you squeezed some more lube and pushed a second finger into him.

His breath hitched and his ears quivered, the tail pressing down and almost getting his own fur into his ass. You couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed and soon added a third finger, almost stretching all the folds out of his poor hole. Ass crammed with your fingers, every deliberate push producing squelching sounds, the red wolf’s thighs trembled and he kept whimpering like a wronged puppy.

You sped up your hand movement, your fingers glistening with lube easily sliding in and out of his asshole. Every now and then you would brush against a certain spot inside of him that made Jules clench each time, allowing you to clearly feel the pulse going through his rectum whenever it happened. Gradually, you started targeting that spot, and it didn’t take long before unrestrained moans and whined filled your bedroom.

The thought of it being your cock instead of your fingers enveloped by him, causing him this pleasure, made you hard, and it also made you lose your patience.

You pulled put your fingers with a loud squelch.

He looked at you, both confused and still caught in his pleasure slowly approaching the peak. Then he saw you rid yourself of your clothes, fully revealing your slender yet powerful figure before him for the first time. His gaze roamed over your body, fervently admiring every inch of you before settling on your erect cock.

He audibly swallowed at the sight.

“My, my, so eager, my little pup?” You smirked at him and leaned over, pressing close to feel his heat and bite him a few more times.

Jules whimpered and rubbed against you, clearly eager for more.

So you fished a condom out of your bedside table and bit it open while locking eyes with him. Then you retreated, sat up behind him, and properly put on the condom. You squeezed more lube onto your hand and held his tail up with a tight grip.

“Ready?”

He adjusted himself a little, his buttocks swaying right in front of your eyes as he tried to get a little more comfortable and dug his claws into his own ass cheeks to pull them apart and reveal his loosened hole to you in all its glory.

“…Ready.”

You generously slathered your dick with the lube and smeared the rest onto him, then held his hips and aligned yourself with his entrance. The tip of your cock poked at the loosened, lubed up hole, and you could see it close and open as if breathing, lightly brushing against your glans.

“Leveret, hurry up…” Jules whined and recklessly shoved his ass towards you, incidentally directly impaling himself with half your dick. He inhaled sharply, “Fuck…!”

You felt his ass clench around you and groaned, “Little pup, you’re really impatient, aren’t you? Your greedy little hole is so eager to eat me up, the bite it took was a little too big for you… Ah, I’ve never encountered a pup begging to be fucked so desperately, and by a hare at that…”

While speaking, you slowly pushed your dick inside him. Watching him swallow you was a most arousing sight, enticing you to give up the slow and steady approach and just ram into him, to go balls deep and make his ass jiggle with each thrust, have him cry put until his voice was hoarse like the call of a crow…

His hands holding his ass cheeks shook as you buried your cock inside his asshole. The hot, tight walls of his soft insides squeezed your length and reluctantly clung to you as you very slowly pulled out. It sucked on your glans before being forced to let go, producing a wet plop sound.

Jules whined and wriggled his ass, so you pushed in again, faster this time, moaning when the heat enveloped you. His ass was so tight you felt like it would milk you dry the moment you didn’t pay attention, yet at the dame time you couldn’t wait to loose control and cram yourself inside his hole regardless of everything.

You sped up as your sanity slipped away, your mind echoing with the wolf’s moans and whines that were growing louder and more frequent.

As you pumped in and out, you occasionally grazed that sensitive spot inside him with your glans. Every time it happened, his ass would throb and tighten around you, causing both of you to moan, inducing you to search for that spot and target it once you found it. You wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing him firmly against you as you fucked him, your dick never leaving his asshole before thrusting in again.

Jules could barely hold himself up anymore and, head only filled with desire, reached for his own engorged cock to help a bit. The knot was already swelling up, indicating he was about to cum.

Your thrusts shook his entire body, making his hands basically jerk his dick all on its own. Yet it just didn’t seem to be enough, the pleasure neither releasing nor fading, just constantly building up as you fucked into him.

“Leveret, Leveret, I want to cum…”

You almost couldn’t hear his whines over your own panting and the noise of your naked bodies smacking together, the lube squelching and the bed creaking, thumping against the wall, and you weren’t really clear about what you could do to help him release. So you just did whatever you liked, one hand gripping his waist so hard your nails dug into his flesh and the other following his arm to his cock, teasing his glans, rubbing his knot and kneading his tight balls.

As your climax approached your thrusts grew sloppier and more irregular, almost frantically chasing that high. Then, you came. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, making you tighten your grip on Jules and fiercely bite down on his nape. You felt his asshole flutter around your cock, squeezing more cum out of you while he shot his own load onto your sheets with a loud moan.

The peak of your ecstasy was extended for an unknown time, and by the time your mind returned, you realized you were both panting heavily. Still intimately connected, Jules lay bonelessly in your embrace, unable to hold himself up.

When you pulled your dick out of his asshole, you saw the reddened, stretched hole pitifully contract and relax as if breathing, unable to close properly. The clear lube smearing his ass and dripping down his balls made you regret wearing a condom for a moment, wishing it were your cum making such a mess out of the red wolf, but after a moment of thought, not having hurt him was a much better outcome. After all, like this, you could happily go for another round…

[madamechrissy]

🍰Birthday Cake🍰

Pairings: Suguru Geto x Fem reader

Drabble- MDNI- suggestive/kissing/touching- fluff/light smut

It's your roommate Suguru Geto's birthday, and of course you, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Satoru, are celebrating. Satoru is trying to shove cake in Suguru's face, Shoko is throwing back shots, and Nanami is trying to make everything precise, while you're getting together your gift for him.

But you can't stop thinking about the way his soft silky dark hair is falling over his shoulders, how he gives you the sweet, sleepy smile, the one you see every night before you sleep. You always wonder... would he ever feel the same? If you let it blurt out!?

You step nervously towards him now, you know him better than anyone, but the gift may be too much, it may make things complicated between you. It may very well get you friend zoned forever, or worse, but you can't stop yourself. When he nibbles on a bite of the cake, licking frosting off his lips, your breath catches.

"What is it, Princess?" He asks softly, and you clear your throat, handing him the little package, in a pretty gold bad with glittering paper, leaning close, murmuring in his ear.

"If it's way off, please... just forget it." He frowns then, blinking just a bit, before peering inside and seeing it, a picture of you in nothing but lingerie, his eyes open wide at it, violet depths shooting up to catch your blushing face.

"Oh my..." He pauses then, and you think shit, you've really fucked up, when he's dragging you to the room, pressing you against his door, and your friends are snickering in the living room. "Any chance you're wearing it now?"

"There very well may be." You tease, unbuttoning one button, than the other of your blouse, until you let it fall, revealing the black lacy bra, see through, and he moans softly, cupping your face.

"You're beautiful." You exhale, blinking rapidly, feeling emotions at his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I'm one step from fucking losing it with you, all the time, and now this?"

"You are!?" He chuckles softly, nodding then, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a seering kiss, before pulling back, glaring. "What!?"

"Who took that?"

"Oh, Satoru did- I'm kidding! It was Shoko." His anger immediately turns to relief, then your hand cups the sharp jaw of his, happy to see him smiling again, it's been a rough year for all of you. "I want more, Suguru, if you do."

"Let me show you how much." He's kissing you deeply, and it rushes through you, the desire, his tongue ring clicking your teeth, as he grips your breasts in his big hands. You're moaning softly when he unbuttons your skirt, letting it fall, touching you with sure fingers, finding you damp. "You're soaked, princess."

"Mnh..." Is all you manage, when he's kissing down your neck, making you cry out softly.

"Shh, Princess." Suguru's leaning low now, one hand entangling in your hair, and you taste the frosting on his tongue, mixing with him, Suguru, you feel like you're dreaming, as a strong thigh parts yours, feeling your heat against him. He's throbbing under his slacks as he watches your hips roll, thinking you're the gift he couldn't imagine.

"Suguru, shouldn't I be doing that on your birthday?" You ask, as he's on his knees, kissing you over your lacy barier, hot mouth teasing your twitchy clit, and he smirks, looking up under dark lashes. You're crying out as he tastes how sweet you are, your wetness pouring through the lace as he laps at it.

"Pretty sure this is my birthday cake, hmm?"

Happy birthday Suguru! <3

Some silliness for our emo babe, he does NOT get enough love on here, ever.

Perma Tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @n1vi @aldebrana @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @1brii @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @jinjen

[colorlessjay]

I imagine that when s16 Dean pops back, s16 Cas will mention some super boring thing he and s6 Dean did together and be jealous. Hit tweet

Jealous Dean is a flavor of Dean I can never get enough of. Is it cliche? Yes. Can it be toxic? absolutely. Do I still seek it out in tags because it scratches the itch in my brain that goes 'hehehe'? almost daily

So here's my brain worms:

Dean's not an insecure man

okay because he is, but he's been working on it and Cas has definitely helped with his self-esteem over the years

And-

fuck it he's jealous. He's jealous and cranky about it and it's all his own fault

"Dean"

"What?" Dean snaps, jaw clenched as he sulks on his nice leather recliner. Yes, he's sulking. Shut up

"You're upset"

"Thanks, Captain Obvious"

"And Bitchy"

"Next you're gonna tell me I have a dick and balls"

Cas does a full-body eye-roll at Dean. Damn it it's cute but Dean's pissy and he's gonna stay pissy for as long as he can help it

"Years of marriage and being by your side, and your behavior still somehow alludes me." Cas places his book down on the coffee table before grunting. "All this crankiness over me baking your younger self a pie"

Dean can feel his heckles raise just at the thought. Because knowing Cas, it was that special honey apple pie he only bakes on Dean's birthday. That the little fucker (the asshole that is his younger self) didn't shower his husband in love and praise the second he got served a slice (not that Dean wanted his younger self to, only he got to do that). A slice made by the hands of a literal Fallen Angel of the Lord, blessed by God himself (Jack usually taste tested)

Dean sinks further into his recliner like the leather is eating him, all while Cas stands by his side, hands on his hips in a now familiar pose of annoyance, a single brow raised as he expects a reply

Jokes on Cas. That only turns Dean on

not the time

"Yeah well, the ungrateful shit didn't deserve it"

"The 'ungrateful shit' you speak of mowed our lawn, walked our dog and made me breakfast. All while trying to find a way back to his own timeline"

"Yeah well, I could've done all of that"

Cas gives him the 'Are you serious?' "You did, both 15 years ago and last week, at the same time. May I remade you, you are being jealous of yourself?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"It's ridiculous"

"It's not"

"it is" Cas insists, sounding exasperated, rolling his eyes again. Dean wants to kiss away the scrunch between his brows... Focus up, Winchester! "You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of"

"Oh so I got nothing to be jealous of when my hot angel husband was left alone with a sexually confused pent-up Hunter?" Dean scoffs and turns his head away "'slike the start of a shitty porno... Only I'm not playing the Hunter"

Dean grunts as a familiar weight lands on his lap, making him sink further into the recliner. Big hands gently grab his jaw and turn his head, locking eyes with those beautiful blue eyes that always hum with angelic grace

"Dean. You have nothing to be jealous of" Cas says slow and firm, like he's punctuating every word. His eyes dance with amusement as he stares Dean down "You wanna know why?"

Dean gulps, feeling his heart flutter already as he's hands find familiar purchase on Cas' hips "yeah..."

"Because" Cas leans close, breathing the words over Dean's lips "-

-------

-------

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So I realized there wasn't a part of this I could cut off so imma stop myself here and go to sleep

anyways, good night :D

[xxsteveharringtonxx]

Adjustments

Eddie Munson x Reader

It hadn’t taken you long to adjust to having Eddie around.

Steve, Robin and yourself had formed a comfortable friendship, it was easy, peaceful and despite everything you all went through you melded back into reality once again.

Except this time, Eddie Munson melded too.

Right as if he’d been there the entire time.

For the last two years his loud and unapologetic presence had become a normality in your life, and the two of you couldn’t be more different.

He had the same cautious prejudgments of you from High School, and having ran in the same crowd as Steve for a while, you couldn’t exactly blame him for his weariness around you at the start.

But High School was a long time ago.

Well it felt like a long time ago.

While Eddie was all leather jackets, heavy boots and loud music, you were somewhat shyer than when you were younger and more reserved now. Not wanting the attention anywhere near you, a quiet life in the shadows was exactly what you preferred now.

And it took Eddie a while to get used to you too.

He wasn’t sure why you were so quiet around him to begin with, it put him on edge but as time went on he realised actually that’s just how you are, and he’s more than happy to speak for the both of you, often spending time together in the group you would rarely get a word in between him and Robin.

It was a nice balance and having him around to be the loud outspoken one was a comfort.

And you grew to love it.

And him.

It was funny because you weren’t even aware of your feelings until Robin pointed them out, Steve catching on to her words too.

“Oh shit honey, I actually see it.” He had informed, realisation dawning on you.

While that was about a year ago now and while Steve and Robin loved to tease you about it, you obviously weren’t going to actually do or say anything about it.

He probably still thought you were preppy and stuck up like back at school.

Which bought you to now, present time and currently stuck on the side of the road just outside of Hawkins and glaring at your car.

It was smoking a little and you tilted your head in thought as to whether it was a real issue or if you could just wait it out, but considering it had broken down, and was literally smoking you concluded it probably was a real problem.

Looking around you spotted a phone booth just down the hill so with a huff and eye roll you headed over. This really wasn’t what you needed after the day you had just had. All you wanted to do was go home and watch some movies, maybe hang out with Steve or the whole gang.

Sighing heavily at your evening plans dwindling away you dialled the number you knew by heart.

And it only rang twice before you heard him.

“Yeah hello?” He barked down the line and despite the gruffness in his tone his voice made you smile.

Actually it made you grin.

“Hey Eddie it’s me.” You announced and there a bit of a scuffle on the line before you heard him more clearly.

“Hey Pretty, what’s up?” Blushing at the nickname he had called you which he’d given you years back, having probably forgotten your actual name at the time, but for some reason it stuck.

“I kind of broke down, well my car definitely did.” You told him cringing at your own sad tone.

“Broke down? Where?” He asked worry woven into his tone and the burst of excitement you felt seemed odd at a time of crisis like this.

But he really sounded like he was worried, biting down on your bottom lip to stop the smile you hummed trying to think of where you were.

“Just on the way into Hawkins I guess, as if you’re heading to Hoppers cabin before town.” You heard him clutch some keys on the other end of the line before barking orders at you.

“Don’t move and stay in your car.” He instructed.

“Eddie! No it’s smoking I don’t want-“ he cut you off with an impatient sigh and a firmer tone.

“Get your pretty ass in the car Y/N and stay there until I find you. I’m on my way.” And then the dial tone.

Following his instructions you did as you were told trudging back to your car. Sighing heavily as you say patiently in the drivers seat.

You could be home by now.

Out of your stupid dress and makeup wiped off.

But then maybe ten or fifteen minutes later you saw Eddie, he was in Wayne’s tow truck and you could make out his navy overalls were a little smudged with oil but he gave you a grin and sarcastic wave through the windshield.

He jumped out and you rolled your window down to pout up at him.

“Need a hand?” He asked teasingly poking his head through.

With a playful eye roll you turned to him with pursed lips to really show your sadness at the situation, but instead goosebumps prickled at your arms at the closeness of the two of you. The freckle on his nose visible to you he was so close, but he cleared his throat before standing up and opening your door.

He about melted at the sight of you pushing your bottom lip out, yours eyes looking up at him for saving.

And saving he could do for you.

“I think she’s dead.” You told him and he gave you a sad smile.

“I can fix her, come on go get in the truck there’s AC in there.” He told you helping you out the car and up the step to the truck.

He licked his lips as he took you in, bare tanned legs in front of him as you climbed up, a baby blue summer dress and white little heeled shoes. Not your usual attire these days and it reminded him of High School.

Remembering only then that you had mentioned a lunch at your grandmas house a few towns over.

He made a mental note to ask you about it.

Seeing your patents wasn’t something you usually ever wanted to do.

You watched as he popped open the hood of your car took a look around, tried a few things and then tried to start her up but nothing came of it. But no matter what he tried within 30 minutes he had latched her up to the tow and joined you in the truck.

“I’ll take her to the shop, Wayne can have a look. He usually figures out what’s wrong pretty quick.” His tone was easy and you nodded at him suddenly aware that the two of you would be spending time together alone.

There was rarely an occasion you’d hung out without Steve or Robin also present. And even if you weren’t used to it there was still a comfortable warmth around you. You felt safe and it was easy being in his presence.

“Thanks Eddie.” You told him with a sweet smile, head lolling to the side to look at him, tugging your dress down when you noticed it had crumpled higher than usual.

Eddie’s eyes flicking down at your movement before focusing back on the road.

“It’s my job.” He fobbed off with a chuckle and you frowned.

“I didn’t call you because you’re a mechanic or anything, I called you because well you’re you and I knew you could help me.” Your words made his cheeks go a little pink, he huffed out some air from his nose before beaming over at you.

A proud glimmer in his eye.

“Well aren’t you a little charmer today.” And it was your turn to blush because as he said he reached his hand over from the stick to squeeze your knee.

But after driving back to the shop in peaceful silence, Eddie’s music playing from the radio keeping a comfort, you finally pulled up outside the garage and followed Eddie to the office where Wayne was sat.

“Uncle Wayne, we got a case of an over heated cooling unit and low battery.” Eddie diagnosed as Wayne looked up giving you a friendly smile.

“We’ll get her fixed right up girly.” Wayne reassured making you roll your lips into your mouth at the expensive sounding issues. “Don’t you worry about nothing.” He barked in a tone sounding familiar to his nephew’s and you saw where Eddie got his kindness from.

“Thanks Wayne but I can talk to my dad-“ you started to try and offer but he gave you a stern look. Probably knowing first hand what an asshole your father is.

“Take her home Eddie.” Were his next words as Eddie began ushering you out to his van, one hand on your lower back and the other grabbing his keys off the hook at the door.

“Wanna go grab some burgers?” He asked as you put your seatbelt on.

“From Benny’s?” You perked up in excitement making him chuckle with a sideways glance at you.

“Yeah from Benny’s, what they didn’t feed you at your grandmothers lunch?” He teased trying to broach the subject and still be a little light hearted but you groaned and closed your eyes.

“It’s not polite to over fill your plate or eat more than two quarters of a sandwich.” You informed him and then looked over. “Apparently it’s not lady like.” You added.

Your parents were from the same cut as the Harringtons, it’s how you and Steve became friends. Forced to sit in boring itchy outfits at the country club every Saturday and Sunday as your parents paraded you around like trophies.

It’s also why you live in a studio above the coffee shop on the high street and why Steve lives in a one bed two buildings down. Neither of you having much of a relationship left with your parents.

“It’s not polite to go hungry either, besides that little dress makes you plenty lady like.” His tone was flirtatious and you knew he was trying to cheer you up while making fun of you.

“And don’t worry I’ll even get you a milkshake so I know you’ve been fed through the night.” Grinning at his words you looked over at him excited for the evening again.

“I love Benny’s.” Was all you managed to say.

“I know Pretty, that’s why I’m taking you to Benny’s.” He assured as if it was obvious but you didn’t think he paid that much attention to you, until now. And pulling into the parking lot he was happy to be with you.

Just you.

Not that he was brave enough to say that out loud.

Once you had both eaten and you were picking at his left over fries you hummed content. The conversation about Robin’s new love interest, or Steve’s latest dating disaster had died down and you had just been laughing at a story he was telling from his gig last weekend, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face.

“We should do this more often.” You told him bravely, dropping the fry and leaning closer by resting your chin on your hand.

“We practically live in Benny’s.” Was his blazè response as he watched you gulp and nod slowly, realising maybe you had meant more than just the diner.

“Sure but I mean just me and you. We should hang out more often, without Steve or Robin.” You said it so quickly he barely had time to recover but he’d caught your every word.

And he knew he had to think quickly before you took it back or changed your mind.

“Just me and you?” He echoed as if seeing what it sounded like on his tongue as well as getting confirmation before he got too nervous to bring it up again himself later.

“Yes Eddie, just me and you. I had fun with you this afternoon. It’s nice.” You looked away from him and down at the fries, your confidence fading. He took in how your cheeks were reddening and the tip of your ears were on fire.

“Steve and Robin are pretty annoying.” You laughed out loud at his response, and his way of making you laugh even in moments like this made your chest hurt.

You almost thought that was him rejecting you, softly and kindly.

But rejection nonetheless.

But when your hand reached over for the last fry he grabbed it gently with his own, placing the softest of kisses on the top.

You watched intently, lips rolled into your mouth trying to suppress a relieved grin.

“Just me and you huh?” He teased harmlessly and grinning at you like he’d just won the lottery.

“I like the sound of that.” He hummed happily.

[holyblonded]

dia de las madres | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you sneak around for the ultimate mother’s day surprise for alexia

warnings: no clue but why does the graphic look like that 😭

notes: in honor of alexia’s birthday enjoy this fic before sunday

"The wooden or the black?"

"Mhm... let me see them both at the same time."

"What's going on here?" Alexia asked. She spent the last five minutes of her morning trying to listen into her girlfriend and teen's conversation. Their hushed whispers made Alexia feel concerned, the feeling was not settled by both of them jumping at the sound of her voice.

"Ale," Olga smiled as you turned your phone off and sent an innocent smile to Alexia. "Did you cut your run off early?"

Alexia shook her head, squinting her eyes at the way you squirmed under her gazed. "Sí. I had a bad feeling and it seems I am right. What are the two of you hiding?"

Before either could answer, Alexia's phone rang with a familiar ringtone. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you recognized the ringtone as Eli's. Alexia sighed before answering, "Hola, mamí."

As soon as Alexia answered her phone, you and Olga shared a look before making your escape.

“Go, go, go,” she whispered, nudging you toward the hallway.

You darted around the corner, trying to keep your footsteps light, while Olga followed a second later, smoothly pulling the bedroom door shut behind her.

Back in the kitchen, Alexia narrowed her eyes as she listened to Eli talk. Something felt… off. The apartment had been way too quiet the last few seconds.

She glanced toward the now-empty living room, her lips pressing together.

“Mami, te llamo luego (i’ll call you later),” she murmured into the phone before hanging up.

Silence.

Alexia’s eyes flicked to the hallway. She knew better than to assume innocence. “Estrellita? Olga?” she called out.

No answer.

Narrowing her eyes, she slowly made her way toward the bedrooms.

Meanwhile, inside your room, you and Olga sat cross-legged on the floor, the glow of your phone the woodshop website.

“Okay, so, wooden or black?” you whispered, scrolling through the options.

Olga hummed, tilting her head. “Wood feels more like her.”

“That’s what I thought,” you muttered. You hesitated for a second before clicking on the customization tab. “And the engraving?”

Olga smirked. “You already know what you want, don’t you?”

You bit your lip but nodded, typing out the words carefully.

Just then, both of you froze at the sound of footsteps outside the door.

Olga’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Act natural,” you hissed, scrambling to turn your phone screen off.

The footsteps paused right outside.

“Estrelleta?”

You and Olga sat completely still, staring at the door like two deer caught in headlights.

Alexia lingered for a moment before sighing. “If you two are up to something, I’ll find out eventually,” she muttered before walking away.

You waited a few more seconds before exhaling. “That was close.”

Olga grinned, nudging you playfully. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

You smirked. “Takes one to know one.”

With the crisis averted, you turned back to your phone, your fingers hovering over the final confirmation button.

“Wood it is,” you whispered, clicking purchase.

Lucy, Mapi, and Alexia watched as you completed the extra laps as Vicky teased you from the sidelines.

"Capi, you do know Estrellita hasn't done anything today, sí?" Mapi asked for clarification. "She was actually on her best behavior."

"Sí... but her and Olga are keeping a secret." Alexia explained and if you looked closely, you could see the pout on her face.

"So you are mad that a teenager is keeping a secret from her guardian?" Lucy asked, following Mapi's lead. "Isn't that all they do?"

"Sí, again but-"

Mapi cut her friend off, "So what is the problem? She's just being a teen and isn't that the goal? Also, what happened to not letting her be punished for things she did at home here?"

Alexia closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, muttering profanities under her breath. Much to her annoyance, both Lucy and Mapi were right. "Nena!" She shouted, causing you to stop mid jog and look over. "Laps are over, go clean up we're going home."

Your face broke out into a gleam, you ran towards Mapi and Lucy to place a kiss on their cheeks in thanks before going to the locker room.

Alexia glared at the two defenders proud, accomplished expressions on their face. "I don't like you two."

"Love you too, Ale."

The secrecy didn't end there, no. In fact, it only became worse specifically at Sunday dinner with Eli and Alba. Unfortunately Olga was in Madrid for a work trip and couldn't join, therefore she couldn't distract Alexia.

"Go to the family room and the box near the fireplace-" You, Eli, and Alba stood in the kitchen plotting together. The sight would've brought a tear to her eye if she didn't know they were talking about her.

"Again! Seriously?" Alexia complained, a serious sense of deja vu washing over her. "What's up with everybody lately?"

Eli gently shoved you and Alba in the direction of the family room, you desperately trying to avoid Alexia's piercing gaze.

"Hija, it's nothing. Si us plau, aneu a la cuina i comproveu la paella per mi, d'acord (please go in the kitchen and check on the paella for me, okay)?" Eli question truly left no room for negotiation so Alexia sighed and went to check on dinner. Eli peaked into the family room to check on you and Alba before going into the kitchen to distract her eldest daughter.

As soon as Alexia disappeared into the kitchen, you and Alba sprung into action.

“Quick, before she comes back,” Alba whispered, leading the way into the family room.

You crouched in front of the fireplace, glancing over your shoulder like a criminal about to commit a heist. “Are you sure it’s in here?”

“Mami said it should be in the wooden box at the bottom,” Alba murmured, already sifting through the neatly stacked albums and trinkets.

Your fingers brushed against cool wood, and you carefully pulled out the small, slightly worn box. The two of you exchanged a glance before you slowly lifted the lid.

“Got it,” Alba whispered, her eyes scanning the contents. “It should be in here somewhere.”

Before you could respond, heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway.

“Shit!” you hissed, shoving the box into Alba’s hands and scrambling to look casual.

Alexia appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “What are you two doing?”

Alba, ever the quick thinker, didn’t miss a beat. “Looking for old photos! We thought it’d be nice to go through some memories while we wait for dinner.”

Alexia’s gaze flicked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced. “And you needed to whisper about it?”

“Nostalgia is a sacred thing,” you blurted out.

Alba coughed to cover her laugh, but Alexia just sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I swear, between you, Olga, and my own mother, I’m starting to feel like I’m the outsider in my own family.”

“Hija, stop being dramatic and come set the table!” Eli’s voice floated in from the kitchen, perfectly timed.

Alexia huffed, clearly still suspicious but too distracted to push further. “Fine, but I know you two are up to something.”

The second she was gone, you and Alba exhaled in unison.

“That was way too close,” you muttered, heart still racing.

Alba grinned, slipping the box behind her back. “But we got it. Now we just have to keep her from figuring it out.”

You groaned, already dreading the challenge. “That’s impossible.”

“Then it’ll be fun,” Alba teased before the two of you headed back toward the dining room, acting as if nothing had happened at all.

"Amor! Estrellita and I are going to the market. Breakfast is in the microwave don't wait up!" Olga called out before closing the front door.

Just like that her plan was in effect, Alexia came out of their bedroom dressed in all black with sunglasses on. She had to do this mission alone, she had no one to trust. Not even Alba.

She checked the AirTag she hide in Olga's car and saw she started driving prompting Alexia to run to her car and follow.

Alexia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her jaw set as she trailed a cautious distance behind Olga's car. The AirTag on her phone displayed the tiny moving dot that marked their location, and she couldn't help but feel her chest tighten with every turn Olga took.

"Market, huh?" Alexia muttered under her breath, the words bitter as they left her mouth. Dressed inconspicuously in black and sunglasses, she blended into the sea of traffic, her every move deliberate.

As the car in front turned down a quiet street, Alexia slowed, careful not to draw attention. Her pulse quickened when she saw the destination: a modern building with large glass windows and a sign that read "Martorell & Son Law."

"Why are they at our lawyers office?" Alexia murmured, parking her car just far enough away to remain hidden.

She adjusted her sunglasses and leaned forward, her eyes glued to you and Olga as the pair stepped out of the car. Olga seemed calm, her arm around your shoulder as the walk to the building got shorter.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as Alexia waited. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her mind racing with possibilities.

Finally, the two emerged from the building. Alexia straightened in her seat, her heart thudding against her ribs. Olga held a stack of papers in her hand, her expression unreadable. Estelle walked beside her, her face serious but calm.

Then, to Alexia's surprise, Olga stopped, turned to you, and pulled you into a tight hug. The embrace was warm, heartfelt—Olga resting her chin on your shoulder as she held you close. You clung back, your taller frame wrapped in Olga's arms.

Alexia's stomach churned as she watched from the car. Something was happening—something important—and she was on the outside, left to piece it together from scraps.

"Bon día!"

"Feliz Día de la Madre (Happy Mother's Day)!"

The shouts from you and Olga woke Alexia out of her slumber.

"Huh, what?"

You stepped up, a tray in your hands filled with Alexia's favorite breakfast foods wearing a nervous smile. Alexia's silence only made the girl more nervous.

"Sorry," You set the tray down next to Alexia. "I knew I shouldn't hav-"

You were cut off by Alexia's arms wrapping around you and pulling you on to the bed. Your head fell into Alexia's neck as you returned the hug. "Estrelleta, it's perfect. Thank you."

"Estrelleta, it's perfect. Thank you," Alexia murmured into your hair, her arms wrapped tightly around you. Her words eased the nervous knot in your stomach as you relaxed into her embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your cheek.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her face. She's still groggy, her hair sticking up in a way that makes you want to laugh, but the soft smile on her face tells you everything you need to know. She's happy.

"There's, um... more," you say, reaching for the small wrapped gift sitting on the tray. Your fingers hesitate for a second before you thrust it toward her. "Here."

Alexia raises an eyebrow but takes the gift. Her fingers carefully undo the wrapping, and when she pulls out the picture frame, her expression shifts from curiosity to something much softer, almost fragile.

The first photo is of her and her dad, a much younger Alexia grinning from ear to ear with a peewee soccer trophy in her hands. Her dad's arm is around her, matching her smile with one of his own.

The second photo is newer—of you and Alexia in your Barça jerseys, confetti raining down around you both as you clutch the Champions League trophy together.

"You like it?" you ask, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

She doesn't answer immediately. Instead, her thumb brushes over the glass, lingering on the photo of her dad, and then she looks up at you. Her eyes glisten, but the smile on her face is brighter than you've ever seen it.

"M'agrada molt," she says softly. "I love it, Estrelleta. Thank you." (I like it a lot.)

Before you can respond, Olga clapped her hands together. "Estrellita, mi nena, don't you want the give her the other gift too?"

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "Olga!"

"Estrellita..." Olga gave you an eyebrow raise that made you shrink into yourself.

Alexia looks between the two of you, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What's going on?"

With an exasperated sigh, you reach for the envelope you'd hidden under the tray. You hold it out to Alexia, your hands shaking slightly. "Okay, um... so I wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but Olga said it was, and I hope you think so too, and—"

"Estrelleta," Alexia interrupts, her voice gentle. "Breathe."

You nod, inhaling deeply, and Alexia takes the envelope from you. She opens it slowly, her eyes scanning the papers inside.

When she realizes what she's holding, she freezes. Her gaze snaps back to you, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are these..." Her voice is barely above a whisper.

"Adoption papers," you confirm, biting your lip nervously. "I mean, if you want to. You've already been, like... the best mom I could ever have, actually the best mom I've ever had, so I thought maybe..."

Your words trail off as Alexia pulls you into another hug, this one tighter than the first. She doesn't say anything, but you can feel her tears soaking into your shirt as she holds you close.

Olga, standing in the doorway, claps her hands together. "Okay, I'm crying. Someone needs to bring me tissues. This is too much."

But you don't care about Olga's commentary. All you care about is the way Alexia's arms feel around you, the way her voice shakes when she finally whispers, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."

[archangeldyke-all]

Angel… hear me out…

butch babies already has 4 drabbles, just one more to get an emoji and be officially a series soooo… what do we (you) think about writing about one of them being jealous maybe bc of insecurities (like idk someone was flirting with sev and reader started feeling insecure bc she is like complete opposite of this other girl), OR maybe they got on a stupid argument and they both are so dumb and stubborn that they don’t know how to solve shit (they are teenagers after all) so they try and make a move to solve everything like organizing something in their hideout but they end up planing the exact same thing JSMDMDKD. OR how would be their first time together (i kinda picture sev waiting for an adequate moment and trying to make it really special for reader, maybe as a birthday gift, or celebrating like an anniversary of that first fight when they meet).

I’m just obsessed with them atm 😭😭😭

this whole series is healing my inner teenager ugh asd;lfjas;ldkj

men and minors dni

you're having a shitty night.

you and sevika snuck up to piltover to sneak into some university frat party-- looking to sell the shitty cave-weed you've been growing in your hideout to rich college kids who don't know any better. at first, it was fun. you made good money, drank expensive liquor, and danced to piltie music.

but now, you're a little drunk, you've got a headache from the altitude, and sevika's pissing you off. she's got her signature cocky smirk-- the one usually directed at you-- pointed at some pretty, proper, pilite girl.

sevika says she's yours. she says you're her favorite girl in the world. but... sometimes you worry.

you know you're different from most girls your age. you've never been interested in typical girly things. wearing dresses makes something nervous start to crawl around in your stomach, and you prefer to keep your hair short and out of the way, not bothering with ribbons or clips or bows. even in zaun; where piltover pinks and frills are traded out for flashy piercings and bold makeup-- femininity just doesn't suit you, no matter what form it takes.

you huff as your girlfriend leans closer to the piltie girl, snatching the closest bottle of good liquor and storming out of the frat house.

you make it halfway down the block before sevika comes running after you.

"hey! don't you hear me callin' your fuckin' name?" you roll your eyes and keep walking. you can hear her scramble after you, before she reaches out and tugs your arm. "what's your fucking problem?"

"what's your fucking problem!?" you ask.

sevika gawks at you. "i-i dunno?" she asks. "i thought we were having a fun time!"

"you sure seemed to be having fun." you huff.

"well, yeah! babe, look!" sevika reaches in her pockets and starts pulling out silverware and watches. you snort and roll your eyes, and resist the temptation to show your best friend your own stolen goods from the evening.

"sev... do you ever think..."

"what?" she asks, still confused.

you sigh. "sometimes i feel like you should be with someone so prettier than me."

"what?!" sevika shouts. "y-you're the prettiest girl in the entire universe--"

"yeah, but i'm not, like..." you flail a bit, looking for the words.

sevika frowns at you. "you're not what?"

"you know sevika. you've known me since i was a kid. you're the same way, sorta." you say.

"so you don't think i'm pretty?" sevika asks.

you gasp and reach out for her with your free hand. "no!" you shout. "sevika-- you're so pretty, your face is all i ever think abo--"

"then why are you being weird?!" sevika shouts.

"because you were flirting with that girl!"

sevika freezes, then she bursts into laughter. "babe!" she cackles.

you huff and pull away from her, taking a sip off the bottle you'd stolen.

"i don't get what's funny."

"i was scamming her!" sevika cackles. you blink.

"what?" you ask.

sevika shrugs. "people up here are rich. and stupid. she was telling me all about how she snuck out of her sorority house-- how everyone who lives there is at a party tonight--"

"we cannot rob a sorority house!" you cut your girlfriend off. sevika deflates.

"but babe!" she whines.

you can't help but giggle with relief and exasperation. sevika must be even drunker than you-- she only gets this mischievous when she's drunk.

"absolutely not. c'mon, i took this bottle, we can go to our hideout and have our own party."

"but i only got like three sets of silverware!"

"look." you giggle, pushing the bottle into sevika's hands and reaching into your sports bra. underneath your shirt, flannel, and jacket, nobody could see the increasingly lumpy silhouette of all the shit you managed to sneak out of the frat house. telescopes, fancy lighters, pocket watches, bifocal glasses, and best of all-- two unlimited piltover university cafeteria passes.

"holy shit!" sevika gasps, grinning down at your haul. "you're fucking amazing!" she giggles.

you smile. "i'm sorry i freaked out."

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you my evil plan. guess i oughta tell my partner in crime about my criminal plans, eh?" she teases. you laugh, redistributing your goodies from the evening in your pockets, before grabbing sevika's hand and tugging her toward the university's campus. you're gonna treat your girl to an all expenses paid cafeteria dinner.

"yes, you should. now hide that liquor so we can get into the dining hall." you whisper.

sevika giggles. "these passes are for grad students. we're too young, they're gonna know!"

"we'll tell 'em we're child prodigies."

"us?!" sevika cackles. you snort and stop your trek, pulling sevika in by her waist for a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[bandgie]

if kill for you to expand on your freeuse jeongin drabble if it sparks joy🙏🏽🙏🏽 overstimming him while he's having a full blown conversation god fuck i Need him

There's nothing really interesting on your phone. Same memes, same trends, and same format. The only thing that gives you some enjoyment is Jeongin sitting besides you.

He's doing the same thing. It's common for you two to spend some quality time together on the phone. The only difference is that while one hand scrolls mindlessly on the screen, the other palms your lover through his sweats.

Jeongin is used to this. He really is. A constant erection is nothing new. Sometimes you'll let him cum, other times you don't. He doesn't mind what you allow. He just likes how your palm squeeze his tip before stroking back down to the base.

If you peek to the side, you'll be able to see a little wet spot. You can see him twitching, adjusting his hips just slightly so you can touch the underside of his cock. Yet, his face doesn't give away what his body does at all. Set jaw, eyes locked in on his screen, and not so much as an open-mouth to let out quiet moans.

You're thinking of how to make him squirm when the door to his room cracks open.

"Jeongin. Are you busy?"

It's Chan. His unruly hair peeks from the door as he peers in, noticing your presence besides his young friend.

Then he sees your hand.

"Oh- My bad-"

"What is it, Hyung?" Jeongin clicks his phone off. You hear it land softly on the other side of the bed as he gives his leader full attention. "You can come in."

You touching Jeongin like this is nothing out of the normal, but that doesn't mean the other guys are completely used to it. They know your arrangement. They know how Jeongin likes to be... used despite his members being around.

But standing there, watching your manicured hands slowly pump his clothed cock is completely different.

Chan rushes in and shuts the door before he can think twice. He just needs to tell Jeongin something and he'll be out of your hair.

But seeing his reddening ears and nervous eyes gives you an idea.

"I was just, uh, going through the recordings and I think we have to redo your part. I was messing with the instrumentals and everyone's vocals sound off-key now. I think we should..."

He's saying something... important. Jeongin can see the determined look in his Hyung's eyes and he can hear the serious tone, but your hand. Your hand suddenly applies pressure.

You squeeze harder than you normally would, tugging upwards to wrap your fingers around his cock and rub. The motion mixed with the rough material of his sweats feels muted, but still good.

His hips buck in the air. Jeongin opens his mouth in a silent moan before settling back down and ignoring that shit-eating grin on your lips.

"So uh, you have to...rerecord my part?" It's breathless. He's breathless. Your fingers move from his cock to the band of his sweatpants. You move underneath them and push past his coarse hair to his cock, naked and hot to the touch.

And when you wrap around the base, you waste no time in pumping him. The soft slick of his pre-cum sound the room and it doesn't take long before he breathes a moan.

"...and it shouldn't take long. I was thinking of trying to- Ayen-ah...are you even listening?"

It feels good. Has a handjob ever felt this good? Jeongin doesn't really know. He doesn't even remember. Everything is so warm, so wet. Your pumping hand is restricted from his bottoms, but there's something unbelievably arousing seeing the outline through his sweats.

The fabric moving quickly, slipping down his waist. He can see the bones of your hand, flexing and curling around his leaking cock.

Oh shit. "What? Y-yeah. Um...now?"

When he looks at Chan, he's semi-shocked to see him looking at his crotch. He shouldn't be too surprised though. You look so pretty, almost innocent, stroking your boyfriend. Your legs are crossed, breasts pushed together from your hand working overtime. There's a terrible smile on your lips, eyes glistening with Jeongin can only label as euphoria when you continue to stroke him.

And when Jeongin lowers his gaze, he sees the tent in Chan's pants.

Now it's Chan who isn't listening. He's staring. He's thinking how smooth Jeongin's cock must feel. He's imagining how big it would look in your fist.

You're playing with his tip. Even his sweats on, Chan can tell. Jeongin is writhing, throwing his head back and sucking in his bottom lip to keep from groaning. He can hear the slick, he can see it. Your other hand drops your phone and pulls down the remaining of Jeongin's sweats, revealing his boxers.

He's absolutely drenched.

Then you stop. No slowing down, no last jerk, just an abrupt yank from your hand.

Even Chan whines from the sudden loss.

Jeongin groans. His chest heaves like he wasn't breathing, and when he finally lifts his head up, Chan can see that he wasn't. His face is red, flushed with pink and dripping his sweat from the side.

He looks like he wants to say something. Jeongin does. He wants to beg you to keep going. He could feel the orgasm on his tongue. You could feel the leaking of his release, but just when you felt him pulsing, you stopped.

Fuck. You love that dark look in his eyes.

You bring your hand to your eyes, inspecting the pre-cum dribbling down your fingers.

You pop a digit in your mouth and nod your head to Chan. "Guess you two should get to work then."

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, I wanted to do some more for the other TF 141 guys after doing Ghost’s. John Price is much older than the others and a bit set his ways….

[masterlist] (I’ll post Gaz and Soap’s tomorrow or later)

Price is on his third wife, you.

The last one bled him dry in the divorce, but that still didn’t put him off marriage.

His family not bothered to get to know you as much as the first and second wife. As if they know you’ll get fed up with him and his ways.

You can tell why he hasn’t had any luck with women. The man is terrible at doing laundry, grumbles to himself instead of talking and smokes like a chimney. Set in his ways, he finds it hard to break away from it.

“Breath of fresh air, darling,” he says to you as you chuck his dirty laundry at him.

“Clean your own crap, I’m not your maid or your mother!” You snapped, taking the cigar from his lips and smushing the end into the ashtray.

John Price just kept pushing and pushing, liking that you set boundaries with him and unintentionally made him get his shit together. He loves it when you tell him what to do.

You never wanted him to change, just wanted him to get a grip on his life.

“I have a career too, I might not be a bloody captain, but what I do matters too.” You work for a social impact company, helping young kids and teens going through poverty in your county. The same kindness John loves as he watches you interact with the people around you.

You were once that kid, struggling to get by and caring for your mother. The one thing you didn’t want, was for everything to fall on you like it did as a kid. You’re firm with it, telling John exactly how it felt. How his actions made you feel.

Well you did break up briefly, only for him to come crawling back. He still has his moments, a little mopey and lazy whenever he’s back from a long mission, but that’s normal.

He likes that you understand his vulnerability, likes the way you whisper that he is safe and protected whenever a nightmare tears him awake. It’s small quiet moments where he loves you most. The brush of your fingers over his knuckles or you palm over his chest as he tries to catch his breath. The way you giggle as his beard and moustache tickle your neck as he kisses you there.

And John gives you a home, security. One thing no one else has. The reassurance that there’s always food stocked up in the fridge and a set schedule for the heating to come on when the temperature drops. That if you can’t do something he’ll help you do it. So nothing has to be on just your shoulders.

Helps you down at the soup kitchen now and again when he’s back home, cleaning all the dishes so that your hands don’t get a rash from the washing up gloves. Little things that make your heart swell.

How he learnt how to knit during the autumn, so he can help you make hats for the homeless. It helps him distress, sometimes even does it in his room back at base to wind down. Currently knitting you some socks too.

Even in charge of the laundry when he comes home, loves the scent of detergent that he grumbles when it’s discontinued and he has to get used to another.

“Bloody found it.” The first thing John says to you as he unpacks his gear. Accidentally letting slip where he was stationed and how he got the discontinued detergent in another country.

And when you ask why he can’t just let it go. “Smells like you, darling.” He’s liked it since the first time you did his washing. Reminds him of home when he puts his civilian clothes back on, always a set put to the side for him to wear home.

When you meet the guys you’re surprised about the dynamic. How John easily gets them to listen and lay down the rules before they enter the house. Shoes come off straight away etc. no smoking indoors but on the patio outside. Watch out for the two chihuahuas running about the house and check underneath the blankets before you sit on the sofa.

One particular chihuahua not moving from Simon’s lap, that he stays in the armchair for ages till the dog wakes up. Johnny and Kyle telling you the most embarrassing stories of the captain, that one time his trousers split in an important briefing and no one told him, but everyone noticed. John doesn’t mind though as he likes the sound of your laugh.

[spencewalterreid]

If "I Love You" Was A Promise

Summary: Your mind has been unkind to you as of late, and Spencer picks up on it. He comes over to try to get you to open up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN reader

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: very self-deprecating, physical abuse if you squint (reader shoves Spencer), mean!reader but they don't mean it, mental breakdown (like... total meltdown), yelling, no use of y/n, Spencer being a sweetie, I think that's it.

Word count: 3k

Author's Note: I truly do love me some angsty angst. I've been going through a gloomy patch recently and wanted to just write a super self-indulgent comfort fic. enjoy enjoy enjoy

You met Spencer a few months ago at a bookstore and you were quick friends. He’s brilliant, great to talk with, and you like a lot of the same media. However, he also happens to be an FBI profiler, which means he thinks he knows everything about everyone all of the time. You’re getting pretty fucking sick of it. He noticed oh-so-astutely that you were going through some shit, and asked under the cover of a movie night to accompany you to your house. Blindingly naive, you agreed. That’s how you ended up in front of him in a heated argument about your current state of mind.

"I don't know what you want from me, Reid! This isn't any of your goddamn business. Just because I've been distracted doesn't mean you need to give me a fucking house call!" you shout, your hands pulling at your hair to ground yourself. "This has nothing to do with you."

Spencer held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice calm and measured as he responded. "Okay, let's take a deep breath. I'm not trying to overstep any boundaries here."

He studied your body language intently - the way your hands gripped your hair, the tension in your shoulders. The distraction, the frustration, it was all rooted in something deeper, something that had nothing to do with their current argument.

"Tell me this," Spencer said, his tone gentle yet firm, "is there a pattern to these distractions? Have they been getting worse over time?" He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. "Sometimes, it helps to talk things out with someone else. And right now, I'm here to listen."

Spencer was acutely aware of the small, cluttered apartment around him – the scattered books and papers on the coffee table, the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the air. He used the familiarity of the space to center himself, to keep his focus on understanding the root of your distress.

"I'm not here to judge or criticize," he assured you, his voice low and soothing. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

In that moment, Spencer's mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together what the hell your problem was. Was this distraction tied to a past trauma, a family issue, or something else entirely? As an FBI profiler, he knew that the key to understanding a person's behavior lay in their history, their experiences, their upbringing.

"Talk to me," Spencer encouraged gently, his tone warm yet authoritative. "I'm here to listen. Please?" He held out his hand, a silent offer, and waited for you to open up to him. Yeah, right.

"God, stop being so fucking you for a minute!" you stomp up to him, about 2 feet away, and shove at his chest. "Act like a goddamn human, for once in your life! Would it kill you? Huh?"

Spencer stumbled back from the sudden shove, caught off guard by the contact. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of your hands against his chest, the bloom of dull pain. He was shocked. No one had ever laid hands on him like that before, no one he cared about at least, and especially not you.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to process the surge of emotions that flooded through him. If the breath was meant to keep tears at bay too, then maybe you didn’t need to know that.

"I... I know I'm not always easy to understand," Spencer said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know your mind works differently than most people's. But I'm trying... I'm trying to be here for you, in whatever way I can."

"Stop it!" you shout. "Stop trying to be unaffected. Stop trying to act like my fucking therapist, because you aren't! You... Don't... Know.. Me." you pause between each word, your finger in his face. "Stop trying to fucking profile me. Act like you have any sort of goddamn emotion, for once in your life!"

Spencer flinched as if struck, your finger hovering inches from his face. The harsh words hung heavy in the air between you, a bitter sting he couldn't shrug off like he might an insult from a suspect.

For just a moment, he faltered. He knows he's insecure, it's one of his biggest flaws, but he thinks maybe right now he should be. Maybe he's stepped too far. Maybe this isn't his place.

He shrugs that off just as soon as it comes. This is more important than being polite.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your frustration, your anger, your desperation. It was raw, visceral, a maelstrom of emotion he struggled to comprehend. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and wrapped his hand around your wrist, gently lowering your finger from his face.

"You're right," he said, his voice low. "I'm not your therapist. I'm not perfect.”

He paused, words careful with his gaze locked onto yours. "But know this... I care about you. More than I can express. And I'm trying.”

Spencer's other hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the heated skin. "I may not always show it in ways you expect... but I do have feelings. This isn’t fair, you have to know that.” His eyes brim with unshed tears, as if pleading with you to apologize. He sincerely doubted he'd get that, at least right now.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me what you need. Tell me how to do this, because I’m at a loss.”

"Stop it! Stop, stop, stop!" you scream, pounding at his chest once more before turning to dig your fingernails into your scalp. "God, you're such a fucking asshole! You don't have a goddamn clue what you're talking about. You've only known me for a couple of months! You couldn't possibly-" your voice catches in your throat, but you choke down a sob. You couldn't possibly love me. You firmly remind yourself he did not say that. Why would he?

Spencer stumbled back, his stomach and a twist and head spinning as he absorbed the brutal impact of your fists against his chest. He tries to keep in mind that you aren’t trying to hurt him, you’re just overwhelmed. He’s having a hard time believing it.

He reached out, trying to grab your wrists to still your frantic movements. But you wrenched away, pacing the small room like a caged animal. Spencer stood frozen, watching the scene in front of him, cinematic in its drama.

"Just because I haven't known you long doesn't mean I don't care about you," he interjects, voice tensely controlled. "You don't get to tell me what I feel or don't feel."

He took a step closer, then another, until he stood behind you. Gently, carefully, he placed his hands on your shoulders, warmth seeping into your tight muscles.

"I can't pretend to know everything you've been through. I can't claim to understand what you're going through, especially 'cuz you won't tell me anything," he sighs. "But I see you, or I'm at least trying to. I see the strength in you, the resilience, the courage.” His fingers tighten minimally in support, pausing a moment. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

That did it.

One sentence, and the dam is breaking. Months of grief, loneliness, and a lifetime of being a last priority come crashing into you all at once. Your knees buckle at the weight of it as sobs wrench your body. "Get out," you demand, but your hands wrap firmly around his arms. "Get out. Please." You shake your head. "Please, Spencer, go home." You press back into him, curling into his warmth. "You're such a fucking dick."

Spencer held on tighter, holding you up with a grip around your waist.

"Okay," he murmured. "Okay, I'll go. If that's what you need."

But he didn't let go. He couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew you were steady. Not until he knew, without a doubt, that you meant it.

"Tell me this first," he pleaded softly, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Tell me you know you're not alone. That you have someone in your corner, no matter what."

His arms tightened, a silent vow. "I know we're not close, I know I'm not always the easiest person to deal with. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be what you need me to be."

He stood there, holding you through your sobs. It impressed you, the resolve of him. It impressed you that he didn’t get pissed, as much as you wanted him to. You aren’t used to gentleness. You’d rather fight than stand in front of someone who’ll just let you cry.

The wails leaving your throat embarrass the living shit out of you, and you know tomorrow you'll hate yourself for it, but right now you’re grateful. "I'm sorry," you cry. "I'm so sorry. So sorry, Spencer." You empty your lungs completely with your sobs, then refill them just to empty them again. "I hate you. I hate you," you repeat, holding his arms with a bruising grip as he gently lowers you onto the floor despite his unrelenting germaphobia. He winces. "I hate you."

The mindfulness applied was the kind he usually reserved for crime scenes. He sat behind you, cradling your trembling body against his chest, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You don't need to apologize. You don't need to hate anything right now except maybe the hand dealt to you."

He rocked you gently, matching the rhythm of your ragged breaths. "I know you're hurting. I know it’s confusing. But please, don't hate yourself for feeling. Don't hate yourself for needing someone to be here for you."

Spencer's hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. He thumbed away the tears that fell in steady streams, his own eyes a pool of their own. "Hate me if you need to. I can take it. I can take anything, as long as you're not hating yourself. None of this is your fault."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "You're allowed to feel. You're allowed to break. You're allowed to scream and cry and rage until you have nothing left. And I'll be right here, picking up the pieces, gluing you back together.” He pulled back just enough to watch you for a moment, your cheeks burning ever hotter. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Your breath catches on a hiccup. "Don't say that," you beg. "Please," you sob. "Don't you say that to me. You don't know me, Reid." your voice is totally wrecked, you sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "You don't know what you're saying, you-" your breath catches, then another, then another, and then before you know it you’re hyperventilating.

What you didn’t say was, when you say it out loud, it becomes a promise. What you didn’t say was, I trust you. To say that is to make a promise you will not keep. To say that is to promise to break my trust. What you didn’t say was, To say that is to lie.

Spencer felt a surge of panic as your breathing grew rapid and shallow, your body shaking violently in his arms. He tightened his grip, a fierce, protective hold, as if he could physically keep you anchored. A folly effort, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he urged, his voice calm and steady despite the fear gripping his heart. "You're okay, you're safe. I've got you."

He slid his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head down towards your knees. "That's it, just like that. Breathe with me. In and out. Slow and steady."

"Don't- don't- don't- d-" You tremble like a fucking leaf. Pathetic. You try to calm down enough to say this because you know it needs to be said: "Don't make- make- don't make pr- promi- promises you ca- can't- can't keep."

Spencer’s heart drops. What did he do wrong?

He didn’t quite know what to say, but he made an effort anyway. "You need to breathe, sweetheart. You need to breathe through this, one breath at a time.”

You lean down to softly press your lips against his hand, still shivering. Shaking. "I'm so sorry," you whisper. "I'm sorry. This is so pathetic."

"Hey, hey, none of that," Spencer soothed, turning your face towards his. He brushed away a lingering tear with his thumb, his gaze locked onto your red-rimmed eyes. "Being human isn't pathetic. Feeling, caring, needing... that's what makes you beautifully, perfectly human."

The smile on his face is sad, but genuine. He lays his hand on the side of your head, dragging a thumb across your temple. “I'm here because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Your strength and your vulnerability, they're a part of what draws me to you. Never apologize for being who you are."

"Can you stay?" you whisper feebly. "I mean, you don't-" you hiccup. "Don't feel pressured, of course. You know what?" You force a smile, which appears hopelessly pathetic considering the salt stains marring your cheeks. "I'm actually okay. I'm so okay. You can go home, Spencer. Go get some rest. Sorry." You move to get up, but his hold tightens. He mets your gaze, his voice low and firm. "No. I'm not going anywhere. I told you... I'm staying right here, with you."

He adjusted your position, lying down and gathering you fully into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "Rest now," he murmured, stroking your hair. "I'll be here when you wake up." Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

You chuckle without any meaning. "Spencer, no. Not on the hardwood floor," you say apologetically, sitting up. "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch. C'mon, get up."

Spencer reinforced his embrace, not letting you pull away as he sat up slowly. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the last of their tears. "I'm not leaving you alone. End of discussion."

He stood, pulling you up with him, then guided you down the hallway, to your bedroom, then to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. Spencer's arm remained wrapped around your shoulders, a constant, comforting presence.

"I'll sleep here, with you. I won't leave your side." His voice softened, a gentle caress. "Please don't ask me to go, not now. I need to be here for you.”

"Spence-"

"No," he interjects. "No. Lay down. I'm gonna get you some water, I'll be right back."

He pats the bed behind you. Sluggish, you settle back into the plush mattress, encircling yourself in the comforter, dragging it right up to the bottom of your chin. You huff.

Spencer returned a moment later, a glass of water in hand. He set it on the bedside table and looked down at you, sympathy written all over him as he observed your closed eyes and the way you had curled in on yourself, still sniffling in the aftershocks.

Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing it to dip slightly. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your cheek. You felt warm, almost feverish.

"Hey, sweetheart..." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper. He leaned in closer, his breath ruffling the hair he had just smoothed. "I know you're not asleep."

His hand slid down to your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" Spencer's words were gentle, a nudging request. Not a demand. Never a demand. He wanted to know you were okay, but he wouldn't force it out of you. If you were going somewhere dark, he wanted to follow you with a flashlight in hand, but only if you'd let him.

"Go to bed, Spencer."

Spencer's brow furrowed, stubbornness hard-set on his face. He didn't move from his perch on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting firmly on your shoulder.

"No. You can’t go to bed feeling like this. It could cause nightmares, increased cortisol levels, and I know you’ll have a headache in the morning if you don’t drink water." He took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your shoulder. "Please, talk to me. Let me help carry this burden with you. I'm stronger than I look, I promise."

You smile, your eyes still closed. "You look plenty strong," you reply. "Please, go to sleep. I'm tired."

Spencer's eyes narrowed, not convinced. “Look at me. Please." When you didn't immediately comply, he gently squeezed your shoulder. “I know you're hurting, and I know you’re tired, but you can’t end the night like this.”

He paused, his posture wilting in his frustration.

You open your eyes and roll onto your back. "Drop it, Reid. It's late, I just cried my fucking eyes out, I want to go to bed. Now, either lay your pretty ass down, or go sleep on the couch."

Spencer studied your face, trying to settle the odds with himself. Accepting defeat, he finally relented with a soft sigh. "Fine.”

He slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed beside you, being mindful not to jostle you. Settling onto his back, he turned to face you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your waist. "Goodnight," he murmured, eyes already heavy with fatigue. "Sleep well."

"Can I-" You turn toward him, but shut your mouth before you ask. "Nevermind. Goodnight."

Spencer felt you shift, turning to face him. “No, what were you going to say?”

You hum, trying to decide how to phrase it. “It was nothing.”

“Here,” he offers, lifting the arm nearest you, inviting you to curl into him. He’s always so observant. Despite your thus-short friendship, he knew exactly what you wanted. You complied.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," he repeated, his hand on your waist giving a gentle, comforting squeeze. "I'll be right here when you wake."

[nestaians]

from what i remember tamlin’s and rhysand’s fathers were shitty people and ruled the court with terror

rhysand chose to continue to rule like his father

he calls it a “mask” but lets be real, look at the conditions of 2/3 of his court, he is a tyrant

most of his court despises him and tries to revolt against him. he has to negotiate with the armies of his court -darkbringers and illyrians- to have them fight for him

he dreams of a better world but has yet to do anything to make it happen -illyrian women being allowed to fight isn’t equality ffs- and discriminates

but tamlin chose to not continue to rule like his father

he chose to be kinder -not only to his people but other court’s people who came to spring court as well and during amarantha’s reign they got to celebrate festivals in sc

his people and his army were loyal to him -loyal enough to willingly die to break the curse- even when he started to work with hybern. that is how much trust they have in their high lord

he dreams of a better world but he does try to make it a reality and doesn’t discriminate

there’s more stuff to compare but 99%, if not all, isn’t in rhysand’s favour

worth mentioning;

even after feyre’s petty revenge and tamlin loses his people, he still pulls his weight -when one could argue he didn’t need to. not when rhysand and feyre, who destroyed his court, are the ones asking for everyone to come together- and does what a high lord of a court should do

tanlin lost his people and he still does his duty vs rhysand who doesn’t do shit

side by side it’s such a crazy difference bc they had similar type of fathers and inherited power of the high lord around the same time and yet the difference in their ruling, the style of ruling they have and how their people are towards them as rulers is so vast

rhysand was his father’s heir and knew he would ruler after his father, meanwhile tamlin was the youngest son and had no intention to rule

mind you, rhysand is the endgame love interest, the “hero” as we’re told

tamlin got the first book and then sjm decided to make feysand the couple but why didn’t she explore rhysand as a ruler like tamlin and make rhysand better? it’s bc she’s a shit writer i know

[innorris]

Rewind- L.N

Summary: Y/N, a famous singer, reunites with Lando Norris, the F1 driver she used to hook up with, when he makes a cameo in her new music video. Their past tension resurfaces, forcing them to confront feelings they never admitted.

Y/N’s POV

I adjusted the sequined dress one last time, staring at my reflection under the harsh lights of the studio. The fabric sparkled like it was supposed to, hugging my curves in all the right places. I looked perfect. At least, that’s what the world would see when the 2 Hands video dropped.

But inside? I was a mess.

I told myself it was just nerves. Big production, high expectations, Tate McRae standing in the next room rehearsing her part. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t that. It was him.

Lando Norris.

I hadn’t seen him in what—four months? Five? Not since we stopped whatever thing we had going. We weren’t together, we weren’t friends, but we weren’t strangers either. We were… complicated. Hookups in hotel rooms between his races and my shows, texts at 2 AM that turned into phone calls that lasted until sunrise. It was fun, easy. Until it wasn’t.

Until feelings got involved.

And then we both did what we do best—ran.

But now, here we were. The director had to pick him for this stupid cameo, and I had to act like seeing him again didn’t make my heart do that annoying flip in my chest.

“Alright, people! Lando’s here. Let’s get ready for the next scene!” the director’s voice echoed through the studio.

My pulse spiked. I forced myself to breathe, but when I turned around and saw him walk in—same messy curls, same effortless confidence—I nearly lost it. He hadn’t changed at all. But his eyes… when they met mine, there was something different. Something I couldn’t read.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, like the last time we spoke wasn’t an awkward, abrupt goodbye.

“Hey,” I shot back, cool and distant. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had an effect on me.

“You look… different,” he said, eyes flicking over me in a way that made my skin heat up.

I raised an eyebrow. “Different good or different bad?”

His lips curved into that familiar smirk, but his voice softened. “Good.”

Before I could say something snarky, the director clapped his hands. “Places, everyone! This scene’s got tension, chemistry. I want sparks.”

Oh, there’ll be sparks, I thought bitterly.

The scene was simple: Lando walks into a dimly lit club, spots me across the room, and we lock eyes like there’s unfinished business. No acting required.

As the cameras rolled, our eyes met. And for a split second, it wasn’t just a music video. It was us, standing in the middle of everything we left unsaid.

“Cut!” the director called, but we didn’t move.

“You’re still good at this,” Lando murmured, his voice low, just for me.

I swallowed hard. “It’s called acting.”

He tilted his head, studying me like he was trying to figure me out. “Is it?”

I didn’t answer. I just walked off set, leaving him standing there like the ghost of everything I tried to forget.

Lando’s POV

I knew this was a bad idea the second I agreed to it.

When my manager told me about the cameo in Y/N’s video, I should’ve said no. Hell, I should’ve run in the opposite direction. But something about hearing her name again after all these months… it did something to me.

We weren’t supposed to get complicated. She was Y/N—the rising star, the girl with the killer voice and the laugh that stuck in my head long after we hung up. I was just supposed to be a distraction between her tour dates, and she was supposed to be mine between races.

But then it wasn’t just fun anymore.

I showed up at the studio pretending I had it under control. I’d see her, we’d shoot the scene, and I’d leave. Simple.

But when I walked in and saw her standing there in that silver dress, looking like she’d walked out of a dream I didn’t know I was still having, my plan went to shit.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Hey,” she replied, cool and distant, like we hadn’t spent months tangled in each other’s lives.

“You look… different.” It slipped out before I could stop it.

She arched a brow. “Different good or different bad?

I hesitated. The truth? She looked better. Stronger. Like she didn’t need me anymore, and for some reason, that stung more than I wanted to admit.

“Good,” I said softly.

The director called us to set, and we took our places like professionals. But the second our eyes met for the scene, it felt like no time had passed. The tension between us wasn’t acting—it was real, thick enough to choke on.

When the director yelled, “Cut!” I couldn’t help myself.

“You’re still good at this,” I murmured.

“It’s called acting,” she shot back, her voice sharp enough to draw blood.

I tilted my head, searching her face for a crack in the armor. “Is it?”

But she just walked away, leaving me standing there, wondering when the hell things got so messy.

Y/N’s POV

I thought I could shake it off. Get through the shoot, avoid him, move on. But every time I turned around, he was there, lingering at the edges of my mind like a song I couldn’t get out of my head.

After the final scene wrapped, I tried to slip out quietly. But of course, he caught me.

“Y/N,” he called, his voice softer now, less cocky.

I froze, my hand on the door. I could pretend I didn’t hear him. I could walk away like none of this mattered.

But I didn’t.

I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest. “What?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he wasn’t sure what to say next. That was new. Lando Norris, at a loss for words.

“Can we talk?” he finally asked.

I stared at him for a long moment, heart pounding. I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him to go back to his perfect little F1 world and leave me alone.

But instead, I nodded.

“Five minutes,” I said. “That’s all you get.”

And maybe, just maybe, that was a mistake.

comment if you’d like more like this!! 🧡

[syoddeye]

hear me out™️

Price’s wife has a love-hate relationship w Laswell. Loves her as a friend, hates her as the one who deploys John.

John just wants them to get along. They all have to see each other enough that these feelings just cannot continue.

But his wife is stubborn, staunch in her emotions. What better way to train it out of her than to fuck her nice and deep before the three ever interact, pavloving her into looking forward to spending time w Laswell? Making sure his wife is still dripping anytime they interact.

And if he got the recommendation from Laswell training her wife the same way? Well, that’s between friends.

i regularly micro spiral thinking about john, kate, and their fucked up little working relationship/friendship. all the shit they've seen and probably done together. this fits within that funky ecosystem.

both of them are so taken by their wives, yet unwilling to let them interfere with or influence their work like this. holding silly grudges. both are leaders, naturally inclined and trained to wrangle personalities.

it goes back to john doing whatever it takes to achieve what he wants, and for kate—well, i mean, she's cia. she's done worse. is fucking her wife within an inch of her life hours before seeing john truly that bad?

no.

just imagine those two smirking behind your back at dinner, knowing precisely how and why you're in such a good mood.

[marsbutterfly]

Nerd Hanji head cannons??? Absolutely smart and top of her class no social life? Pulls Y/N??? Erwin, Levi and Moblit are like is Reader blind???? Fluffy nerdy shit I eat that up and let me tell you I’m STARVING

Headcanons: Nerd! Hanji Zoe

a/n: i've had these ready for about a week or so but for some reason i haven't posted them? idk, but i do hope you enjoy heh i had fun.

warnings: none. this is pure fluff. | tagging: @wizzy21

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has been your close friend since the two of you were young. They were always a bit awkward and going around studying frogs or collecting rocks, but you were always following closely behind with a pencil sharpener and a box of band-aids.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who used to tutor you in their free time. Their favorite subjects had always been the most difficult ones: chemistry, physics and math. So they would always do everything in their power to make the subjects more interesting or, at the very least, easier for you to understand.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has done your homework for you more times than you could count. Some times because you were sick, some because you were getting frustrated and aggravated and some of them in exchange for some of your baking. So they would sit on the kitchen counter as you would bake them cookies, cakes, whatever they were craving that day.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has always been class president for as long as they were allowed to run. They were constantly trying their best to make sure everyone in class was happy and also having their concerns being heard. They ran unopposed for over five years, mainly because there was nobody else who could have done a better job than them.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who deletes all of their social media every time they have an exam coming up. No matter how many times you tell them that they could easily just delete the app, they will not listen to you because they say they're tempted to just "download it" again.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who has had a crush on you for years but never did anything about it. They wanted to ask you out for so long but didn't for two reasons. Number one is that they didn't think you felt the same way and, number two, because they wanted to wait until you both got to college and had an idea of what you were looking to do for the rest of your life.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who was the joke of the group multiple times but they still couldn't understand that they were being teased for your feelings about them, not the other way around.

❀ Nerd! Hanji Nerd hanji who excels in absolutely everything that they do but are completely oblivious to your feelings for them until you straight up kiss them after a day out together. You were already considering it a date, they thought the two of you were just hanging out before college started. They didn't complain one bit, though.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who doesn't pay attention to how they look, especially when you go out together. They will keep their hair in a messy ponytail, wear the same pair of old crocs and the same taped pair of broken glasses.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who gets you a scholarship to your dream college so the two of you can study together. They will change their entire life plan that they have had since they were a child just to spend time with you, much to their parents' dismay.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly helps you study for your exams because they have absolutely nothing to worry about for themselves and they want you to achieve only the best you can.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who set the curve for the grades too high so they are lowkey disliked by most of their classmates. They don't really care though, the only person they care about is how you feel about them. And you love them to bits.

❀ Nerd! Hanji has an internship at a very prestigious laboratory and is already being considered for a full-time position by the time they graduate.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly sends you pictures of funny looking bacteria they find. They find random shapes and immediately whip out their phone (which they are very much not allowed to do but they get so excited that they can't help it.)

❀ Nerd! Hanji who constantly needs to buy new pens and pencils because they are often biting the back of it or the cap. They have come home with blue or black ink on their lips more times than you can count on one hand.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who sometimes forgets to eat so you always bring them food regardless of where they are. They always blush and tell you not to trouble yourself with these kinds of things but you can't help it. Knowing that they are using all that brain power with no fuel makes your heart ache. So you always give them extra food and water.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who tilts their head when they are thinking about stuff. They do it regardless if they are at work or if they are at home. So you just know they could be looking for a bacteria in a sample or for the extra block of cheese in the back of the fridge, the look is the same.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who doodles your name all over their notepads over and over, to the point where they have to force themselves out of that mind space, otherwise they can't focus.

❀ Nerd! Hanji who looks at you and only you. No matter how old the two of you are, they are always in love with you. And they are always yapping about some video game or book, not that you mind, of course. You never did.

[sevenheaven7011]

No, but put yourself in Emmrich's shoes for a second. You are Emmrich Volkarin, and you are finally taking that sabbatical. You aren't naive, you know there will be danger on this quest, but this is a once in a chance lifetime! And after years in your small yet cozy space with your research, you are ready to see the world!

You are Emmrich Volkarin, and you had no idea shit would get this crazy.

You are fighting dragons, darkspawn, and cultists every other week! You went to a grey warden fortress. One of your companions has a griffin, a creature long thought to be extinct that shits on your floor every night.

And the leader of this ragtag group of God killers who you admire for their resilience and courage, who you do think is very attractive (You'd be lying to yourself if you said they weren't.) has decided to flirt with you!

You didn't even conceive it a possibilty. You're not bad looking in your opinion, but you are also not delusional. You are no spring chicken anymore. (This is total bullshit btw bro, is hot!) Not to mention the six other people in the lighthouse who you'd think would line up with said leader's tastes more. You think maybe it's a one time thing or that you aren't the only one, but no they keep going!

So you go ok and decide to see where it goes! One date and defeating an old colleague/friend together later and they're calling your ward Manfred "Our son." This is no fleeting fancy or mere fling to them they are genuinely in love with you. They hang on to every word you say have never been put off by your insecurities, ambitions, or fears. What are you supposed to do with that!

So of course you end up making a fool of yourself. Before the final battle every insecurity bubbles its way to the surface. You're scared of leaving them or of them waking up from all of this and leaving you. You don't want them to be left to grieve you and you don't want to be left hurt and you go about things with all the tact of a brick going through a window. And yet next day when you try to apologize they tell you that you'll both talk later and then they're gone.

The first few days were the cruelest, you haven't felt such grief since you were a child clutching your mother's teapot at the funeral.

It's by day 3 after some pushing from the others and said ex colleague/friend who is now a skull on a nearby desk that you decide you can't wallow.

Somehow being around Rook has made you more bold in a month than you've been in your whole life! They've inspired you, they've inspired you so much in fact that not only did you find them but, you've also ended up recreating the very weapon that they use to finally end things! Never in your entire life would you ever have dreamed that something made by your hands could fool the God of Lies himself.

But, Rook. They look at you with that same unwavering confidence that they had when they threw you that horrid latern and asked you to face down your greatest fear. And they say

"Of course it worked. You made it!"

[iloveelvisss]

In Came Sunnie

Summary: Based heavily on Girl of my best friend. Cassandra Barlowe, budding film star, gets her breakout role in Kissin’ Cousins. Playing the youngest of the Tatum girls, her character’s name is Sunnie. Elvis takes an IMMEDIATE liking to her, and upon introducing her to his intimate inner circle, she becomes extremely close to one Jerry Schilling. Can Elvis knock his own feelings for the sake of his best friend’s happiness?

Ranges from 1964 and onward.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x female OC- Cassandra (Sunnie) Barlowe

18+ so minors dni

Chapter 1: In Came Sunnie

Warnings/Triggers: mentions of sex, cussing, references to a slight foot fetish?? If you see anymore, lmk!!

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Cassandra Schilling. Elvis hated how it sounded. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it out loud, in fear of quite literally making himself gag. If he would’ve known that this would be the outcome, he would’ve never invited her to the Perugia Way house after filming wrapped.

He thought it would be like any other time he’d brought home a costar. They’d hang off him and reserve their attention for only him. But fuck if Cassandra was just the opposite. She’d almost immediately branched off from him to socialize from the second she’d entered the home. And by the end of it all, she was perched comfortably right beside Jerry. And damn it all if Elvis couldn’t bring himself to intervene. Jerry had been so lonely lately, and was finding it hard to find a girl who’d talk to him for the soul purpose of, well, talking to him. They’d always used him to get to Elvis. But Cassandra was different, she seemed genuinely interested in Jerry, and Elvis just didn’t find it right to take that smile from his friend’s face.

And now here Elvis was, holding himself together miraculously as he stared at the newly placed engagement ring on Cassandra’s finger. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the guys hollering over Jerry and congratulating him for finally finding the balls to propose, but he just couldn’t break away from his deafening thoughts. Why the hell was he so stuck on this? He’d only wanted to sleep with Cassandra when he made the choice to bring her over that night, so why was he so physically ill over her being engaged to his best friend?

“EP! Ya good?”

Elvis looked up to find Charlie standing over him, a look of concern on his face.

“Yeah, man. Where’s ol’ Jerry boy at?”

*

She was gorgeous. Her smile was something out of this world. Elvis had the single thought that her character’s name matched her extremely well. She looked like sunshine.

It was strange— the stirring in his stomach. He’d only felt anything of the sort when he’d met Priscilla, but even then, it really wasn’t this prominent. Elvis had the most intense want— no need— to fuck Cassandra Barlowe silly.

And the rest of filming went in the same fashion. Elvis undressing her with his eyes, and to his knowledge, her not having a clue. She was just sweet, laidback and happy to do whatever entailed the most adventure.

“I think ‘m gon’ call ya Sunnie,” Elvis stared at her as they were supposed to be going over some lines together. She was splayed perfectly against the porch set of the Tatum’s cabin, giving him an amazing view of her legs— and not to mention her cute little sooties. Such perfect sooties, he thought to himself.

She gives him a small smile, “what? Like my character?”

Elvis nods. “Mhm. I think it suits ya, plus I give nicknames to a lot of my friends.”

“And I’m your friend?”

“Yes. Well, I- I- if ya wanna be,” He nervously scratches the back of his neck, a habit he’s had all his life.

Sunnie just smiles, and Elvis notices how her eyes sparkle when she does so. And then he remembers something. “Ah, shit.”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

He looks away, suddenly finding the fake water well very interesting, “One o’ my pal’s name is Sonny. Can’t exactly be callin’ ya that, I don’t really wanna think ‘bout him when ‘m talkin’ to ya.”

Sunnie looks up at him again, quite obviously holding back a giggle. And Elvis feels the corner of his mouth quirking up at her expression.

“I don’t mind. Just so long as you specify that I’m the better Sunnie.”

Elvis finds himself grinning for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of ten minutes. He sticks his hand out for her to shake, “Deal.”

*

After congratulating Jerry and giving him one of his many cigarillos, Elvis finds himself trying to quietly slip away to his bedroom. He didn’t want to celebrate the impending union of the girl he planned on making his in a way and one of his best friends. He’d much rather just down his drug cocktail and will sleep to take him.

But he stops short. A voice, the voice he really didn’t want to hear tonight rings out softly behind him as he climbs the stairs in the kitchen.

“Elvis?”

There she was, all glorious sunshine and hairspray. His Sunnie. Damn her and her ability to make him soften the second he sees her sweet face. “Hi there, Sunnie. Whatcha doin’ in here?”

“You know, I could ask you the same thing. Did ya not like the party? I- I could ask Jerry to move the party somewhere else…”

Elvis shakes his head, his eyes crinkling as he gives her a soft smile, “No, ‘m jus’ fine. Jus’ gon’ head on up to bed. That alright?”

Sunnie returns the smile. And in the dim lighting of the stairwell, Elvis thinks he sees her eyes flash. But in a split second it’s gone and she exudes that golden shine she’s known for. “Of course. Thank you for letting us use Graceland for this. Good night,” and with that, she turns and leaves him where she found him.

He finishes his journey upstairs and collapses on his bed, and he’s still in this position an hour later when he decides maybe it’s time he give that little girl he met in Germany her very own diamond ring. The Colonel and Cilla’s parents had been enforcing the idea for months anyways, and maybe in doing so, he could finally get that sunshine smile out of his head.

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Very short first chapter because I really just want to know if anyone would even read this if I kept writing it. But I already love my sweet Sunnie girl, so if this at all caught your eye, PLEASE lmk!! Enjoy, much love😙.

Tags: @queenstarlight @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone (lmk if you wanna be added)