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gojhoes · 2 days

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"don't feed it"

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, tw: self-harm, blood (duh), actual literal kidnapping contents: gojo x fem!reader, vampire au, college au, no curse au, yan!gojo, possession, dubcon, s/m, p-in-v, soft dom gojo, coercion, reader is kinda dumb, pining, subjugation, praise, gojo is more tame bc he’s dead, obsession, stalking wc: 6.1k part 1

"...for the blood is the life, and thou mayest not eat the life with the flesh." deuteronomy 12:23

many and more years ago, satoru gojo died just a few days before the turn of the century. the fine details of his demise were lost on him now, as were so many memories he'd once held during his waking life.

cursed.

at first, he'd believed he was a ghost; an unsettled soul which fluttered unseen among the living. but no– women smiled sweetly at him on the street and men tipped their hats as he walked on by.

damned.

it was an adjustment at first. the earliest years were the hardest, spent mostly alone as the new sensation of thirst consumed his every moment. the night's children needn't to sleep or eat, and he could no longer stand to be in the presence of people. he had become something savage, more alike that of an animal than a person. he fed without care and developed a blatant disrespect for life, exercising no caution in the event of concealment.

cold.

an incident occurred in which he was the culprit caught the attention of a prominent cohort, introducing satoru to an entire society of the damned. it was then that he met suguru, who, despite his fate, held true to a certain standard of morals in which he preached to others. satoru kept quiet about his disagreement, choosing to view suguru as a friend and a mentor.

dead.

satoru began to linger around every corner you might pass– anything to get close enough for a taste of your scent. he loved watching the way you moved, how you'd wear your hair up off your neck now that it was getting warmer. most of all, though, he loved watching over you while you slept. you were so oblivious, so vulnerable, so alive, and satoru's obsession had come alight in full.

suguru was lounging in the sitting room, looking as ethereal as ever what with his long hair and billowing robes. a boy likely no older than seventeen sat perched on the arm of his chair, though satoru paid him little mind. his face was sallow, undereye painted red-purple– the telltale appearance of a human subjugate.

"what a surprise," said suguru, flashing a white-teethed smile. "you look troubled."

troubled? no. confused? slightly. "hello, suguru. new friend?"

the other man shrugged, his eyes raking over the boy in a way that made satoru cringe inwardly. "he's pretty, no?"

the purpose of this visit was the get advice about you, not breathe more life into a pointless debate between the two friends. satoru believed suffering shouldn't be prolonged in the way it was with subjugates, though suguru would swear up and down it was the way to go. since meeting him, satoru had seen the other go through what seemed like hundreds of them.

"finally coming around?" suguru asked, arching a dark brow. "i've been telling you for years, satoru. there is nothing quite like the devotion and the-"

satoru cut him off with an irritated sigh. "yes, yes, i know you love your playthings, but it's not like that."

the boy didn't respond to the dig; a subjugate responded only to their master. it was chilling to witness, even for satoru.

suguru scoffed. "what could you possibly have to gain from it, then?"

it wasn't a matter of winning or losing, but that mentality would be lost on someone like his friend. satoru's goal wasn't to make you into a mindless slave– he wanted to hold you, protect you, and make you his. it was an unconscious and irresistible desire to keep you by his side forever. it must have been written all over his face judging from a shake of his friend's head.

"don't be a fool, satoru," said suguru, his voice full of lazy chastisement. "this will only end one way."

satoru rolled his eyes, taking no heed to the other's comment as usual. "am i wrong to assume that you might be jealous?"

suguru pulled the boy in closer, brushing away his hair to expose the smooth skin of the subjugate's neck. "don't you have somewhere to be?"

satoru resisted the urge to make a gagging noise as he watched suguru snatch the boy's head back, and turned on his heel to exit the room. he did have somewhere to be– a date with you.

it didn't take long for satoru to find you. an innate magnetism made it easy now that he'd learned your patterns and grown used to your scent. tonight was a rare one in that you were off from work. satoru peered through your apartment window, watching as you and your friend fluttered about inside. after a few minutes, he heard you ask if she was ready to leave, and quickly melted into the shadows before either of you would be able to spot him.

the bond between you was predetermined by fate, which is why you were so sure that you'd seen him before. your soul was tied to him whether you knew it or not, though you would soon figure out why. nothing would ever be able to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

he followed far enough behind to avoid being seen until you disappeared inside a crowded bar trailed by your friend. satoru cursed her silently; there was always something or someone keeping you away from him. he supposed that he could kill her, but he'd rather die all over again than risk making you sad. so, he waited. he'd waited a century– what was another hour or two?

eventually, there you were, stumbling out the door with your brown-haired friend's arm wrapped around your waist. that familiar twinge in his chest pulled at him as it did every time he saw you, the one that billowed from the dangerous temptation to take you. he heard you laugh at something she said, and pure jealousy surged through him. who was this girl touching you like that? making you laugh? getting you piss-drunk? just how close were the two of you?

satoru dug his nails into his palms as his will began to waver. he watched as your friend guided you to the edge of the sidewalk before she turned around to answer a phone call. your friend paid no mind as you swayed and fought to stay upright against your intoxication. she didn't notice when you stumbled forward into the street, nor when satoru materialized from the shadows and reached to pull you by the arm just before a speeding car flattened you.

you gasped as his arm circled your waist, steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. the terror on your face melted into a smile and recognition bloomed in your eyes; it would've softened his anger had your friend not yelled at him right after.

"hey!" satoru whirled around and glared down at the perpetrator. "what the hell are you doing?"

you were pitifully limp in his grasp– how much did you drink tonight? never would he have ever let you be so careless, nor would he have abandoned you when you were so clearly out of it.

"she's coming with me," said satoru through gritted teeth. he had half a mind to cut her down right then, damn the consequences, but you were more important.

your friend opened her mouth to protest, but with a tilt of his head and a flash of his eyes, she choked on her words. she only swallowed and nodded before satoru turned and began leading you down the street toward his home.

***

you were in an unfamiliar room when you woke, tucked into a bed that wasn't yours. your body felt heavy as you struggled to sit upright, stripping off the covers to expose yourself to the frigid air. the only memory you possessed from the night before was shoko handing you another drink, and then... satoru, with his arms around you as you stumbled away from the bar.

how strange. maybe he'd been there with someone and you just happened to run into each other; it was a small college town. as your mind began to clear, you noticed that the clothes on your body were not the ones you'd worn last night. on the nightstand was a glass of water and what looked like tea sandwiches, but not your phone. no purse, no phone, no keys, nothing of what you'd brought to the bar was in your possession.

you surveyed the room in search of anything you might recognize or that might trigger a memory, but there was nothing. you saw that the only light was coming from a small, rectangular window near the ceiling and with the dampness of the air, you knew you'd been brought to a basement. you sprung from the bed and soared toward the bedroom door, sickening fear and dread bursting from the pit of your stomach as panic began to set in.

"hello?" you called out. your voice echoed unanswered throughout the room, working only to further raise your concern.

you reached to twist the doorknob, but it didn't budge, and it was then that your composure began to dismantle.

you pounded on the door, frantic as you cried out, "hey! what the hell is going on?! satoru!!"

this couldn't be happening, not to you. sure, kidnappings happened all the time, but never did you imagine that this nightmare would be plaguing you. did satoru drug you? were you even with him? where the fuck was he? had he left you here to die, now that he'd had his fill? your chest rose and fell rapidly as your breaths grew more labored.

a ravaged scream tore from your lungs. you weren't quite sure when it stopped, but your throat burned, raw and silenced as you let your body slump onto the floor with defeat.

you were unsure of how much time had passed when the door finally swung open to reveal satoru's tall frame. the sound made you flinch bodily as he stepped over the threshold with a smile on his face. you jumped to your feet with half a mind to sprint past him to freedom, but it was futile. instinctively, though, you inched backward from the angel of death who'd come to whisk you away at last.

he looked the same as he had the last times you'd seen him, smiling kindly while moving to close the space you were desperately working to maintain. never would you have imagined he was a sick bastard who locked people in his basement. he was so handsome, so normal, maybe a little quirky, but he'd been so nice to you...

"don't be frightened," satoru said gently. "it's all right."

your body trembled as the backs of your knees made contact with the bed. "what are you doing?" your voice was scarce more than a rasp, weak even to your own ears.

he had pulled the door behind him, sealing off your only possible escape route. you noticed then a large volume tucked under his arm which he moved to lay gingerly on the bedside table. an easy expression painted his features as he regarded you with a tilt of his head, making the white hair fall into his face.

"i'm sorry i took so long." he spoke as though this was a casual conversation, like this was normal and you weren't being held hostage in a locked room.

"why are you doing this to me?" the first of many tears began to trickle down your face.

he surged forward from across the room so quickly that you started. your body tensed, still shaking as satoru stared at you with wide, inquisitive eyes. he brought his hand to your face to cup your cheek and you shivered beneath his touch.

"and what is it that i am doing?" he whispered.

you should've felt disgusted, should've kicked him or bit him while you had him so close, but your survival instinct went quiet the moment his fingers touched your skin.

you choked on your words, tears blurring your vision. "y-you, you're- you've taken me. i don't understand."

his body was solid, unmoving with his arms caging you in an inescapable hug. "hush, now, i'm not going to hurt you. you were extremely drunk and your friend left you out on the street. i wasn't going to leave you there."

"then why did you lock me in here?"

satoru's eyes flashed but he didn't miss a beat. "i live in a bad neighborhood."

you wanted to believe him; in fact, you almost did. there was such conviction in his voice, such kindness and surety that it all suddenly made sense. he knew you'd panic. he was trying to keep you safe until he got back– it made perfect sense... almost.

"where's my stuff?" you asked. "i need my phone, shoko's probably worried-"

satoru's grip on you tightened and you let out a gasp. "you dropped it on the sidewalk and it broke. there are no outlets in here so it's charging in my room but i don't think it's going to work."

your mouth hung open as you tried to come up with a response, but it was like your brain had been shut off. you believed him, felt yourself begin to relax and submit despite some small part of you still screaming to fight. he laid his hand on your cheek again and smiled.

"i'll be back later tonight," he murmured, then gestured toward the nightstand. "now, read up. i've circled my favorite passages."

satoru turned and began to move toward the door, and your mind started to work again with the realization that he was still leaving you here. you raced forward and fell into him, taking him by surprise. you fisted your hands into the fabric of his shirt as desperate words spilled. "wait, please, please let me go. i swear i won't tell anyone, just let me go-"

in a flash, he whirled around and his large hands were circling your wrists firmly as he regarded you with a pointed look. "i can't do that. you're completely safe here. no one can hurt you now."

you let out a choked sob as he released you. how could you possibly be safe when he was literally holding you hostage? you watched, numb, as the door closed, and with it, you sank to the floor and sobbed.

***

at least the bed's comfortable, you thought, then immediately wondered if you were experiencing the beginning of Stockholm syndrome. if satoru wanted you dead, he'd have killed you a while ago. if he wanted to... use you, wouldn't he have done it by now? the speculation was making you crazy; you kept wishing he'd come back, explain himself, let you go home.

you eyed the worn volume sitting on the nightstand. upon first glance, you might've mistaken it for a holy word, but no. the book seemed to be calling you, saying read me, look at me... maybe you were starting to go insane.

several of the book's pages had been marked with small, brightly colored sticky tabs. you sighed- it wasn't like you had anything else to do. you plucked it off the table and traced your finger over the title printed in gold lettering. the night's children.

you flipped to the first tab and peered over the words.

a rare phenomenon known as rebirth can occur under the right conditions. however, these beings are not as uncommon as one might think. give or take a few poignant qualities, they appear to be just as human as they were during waking life.

waking life? beings?

the night children are not ghosts, as they have no soul. human niceties and morals are no longer relevant, and it is in their nature to possess little to no regard for life.

they do not suffer hunger or exhaustion. all five senses are remarkably heightened, particularly that of sight, smell, and sound.

common characteristics include near-translucent pallor even in the deepest of complexions, unrivaled beauty, undeniable charm, and an affinity for living in the night, given their name.

all of those descriptors matched satoru to a tee, and as you read on, your despair continued only to grow.

their most marked feature, however, is needlelike teeth which replace the ones known as canines. they are razor-sharp, used to pierce through flesh. upon first contact, it causes a euphoric sensation for their victim as they feed.

you should’ve stopped reading. you should’ve pounded on the door until the wood splintered or started searching for something to pick the lock with. it was as though another brain had taken hold of your body, responding on an instinct you couldn't decipher. you flipped to the next tab to see a page titled subjugates.

some night children may have numerous human subjugates if they so choose. these humans are uncannily attractive and stay devoted to their master or mistress for life, under a spell-like adoration. they feed on their subjugate whenever they please and follow them until they either die or are reborn themselves.

is that what this was? was satoru going to keep you as his… pet? to “feed” on you? it was sickening, absolutely dreadful, and yet, a raw curiosity urged you to read on to the next page.

mates are usually taken among these beings, though not always. mates are most commonly nonhuman, and these pairings often lead to dangerous conflicts, an intense battle of wills.

in some cases, however, a human mate will be taken, though it is unlike subjugation. once discovered, the night child is incapable of separating that tie- it becomes as necessary as feeding. it is characterized by intense obsession, lust, control, and possession…

you slammed the book shut and threw it on the bed as though it was a snake rather than a collection of pages. your chest was heaving as the information settled in. otherworldly beauty, soullessness, the confinement– satoru had found you, and if what you'd read was true, there was no way you would escape. you would die here, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you surveyed the room in a frenzy for something sharp or pointed, but it seemed that satoru had planned for everything. you were no match for someone who’d been around for much longer than you could fathom.

you dug your nails into the thin skin of your wrist, raking them downward while clenching your jaw from the pain, but this was the only option. your goal was to make it deep enough to cut through the flesh and draw as much blood as possible. if enough spilled, wouldn’t satoru come to find you and lose control? you had no choice but to keep scratching and scratching until the blood began to drip onto the floor. it was either death or an eternity of captivity.

the door busted open with a bang and there was satoru, eyes wide and pupils blown with the realization of what you were doing. your gazes met, and a beat later, you were being held up against the wall as the breath left your lungs.

“what are you doing?” his grip was iron, long fingers gripping right on your self-inflicted wounds, but you hardly felt it under the guise of your fear. his beautiful features were twisted with unbridled anger, and you realized then that you were crying again, hot tears blurring your vision and streaming down your cheeks.

“i don’t want this!” you cried pathetically. “i just want to go home, please just let me go.”

satoru’s grip didn’t waver as he regarded you with a sad expression, though you doubted he held any remorse. they have no soul. “you know i can’t do that.”

you began to sob uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut as any remaining semblance of hope was sapped from your being. there was no way he’d let you alone now. so quickly your life had become an object that no longer belonged to you.

then there was a cold hand on the side of your face, a gentle thumb brushing away your persistent tears. your eyes flew open to glimpse satoru’s kind smile, so out of place now that you knew of his… affliction.

“you’re gonna kill me,” you whimpered, staring up into his eyes desperately. “why me?”

he cocked his head to the side. "you’re a smart girl. haven’t you figured it out yet?"

your hands were shaking. your blood was trickling over his fingers, but he hardly seemed to notice as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, making you shiver despite yourself. his lips grazed over your collarbone, and you unconsciously leaned into him.

“i can make it better,” he whispered. “let me make it better.”

he didn’t have a smell, you realized. not of sweat, nor of laundry detergent or shampoo. his hands were so cold circled round your wrists, but all you felt was heat as his lips ghosted over your pulse point. how had you not noticed it before?

“i am not, and have never been, one to deny myself of my desires,” satoru went on. “you are so beautiful, so much so that upon first glance, i thought you were like me. but then i got a taste of your scent... this perfect compatibility happens only once in a millennia. i never searched for it, never thought i could be deserving, but here you are, blessing me.”

you had no choice, completely immobile in his grip– helpless prey pinned down at last, silently wondering how he could possibly make it better. satoru's lips pressed to your cheek, to your jaw, then to your neck. "hold still, 'kay?"

there was no time even to gasp when you felt the briefest of stings over your pulse point. you'd expected hot, excruciating pain, but you were met with quite the opposite. all other thoughts left your mind as pure ecstasy flowed through your body; all you could think and feel was satoru as you went limp against him.

it was as though you'd be reborn in rays of sunlight and pleasure. the truth had been set before you; this was a blessing, you realized– all satoru wanted was to protect you, to care for you in a way no one else would ever be capable of. whether you'd known it or not, you were his– you'd always been his. that's why you were so drawn to him and why he looked so familiar. it was the most intimate moment you'd experienced in your entire life, an offering to him of your heart and soul.

it was like you've known him your whole life.

"better?" he asked against your neck. you could feel his tongue sliding all over your skin, likely lapping up any of the remaining blood that had escaped. it felt like heaven, and you wondered how satoru could possibly be damned if he could make you feel like this.

your only complaint was that there wasn't more for him to take. you'd give it all to him, give him everything without hesitation, but something told you that satoru would never do it. he saw you as his, someone to keep safe and to hold until the end of time.

you relaxed against him, so overcome with pleasure and bliss that you had to let him hold you upright. "don't stop," you whined. "please, please, satoru, i-"

"shh, it's okay," said satoru. he cradled your head with one hand, urging you to look into his eyes. "any more and it'll be too much for you."

it was not the answer you wanted to hear. you wanted him to take more– you wanted to feel that euphoria and the submissive weightlessness he'd just bestowed upon you. you were stronger than he knew; you could take it, you just had to show him.

"no, i can do it, just keep going-"

satoru pulled away from you, dropping his hands from around your head. you were close to tears from how sad the separation made you. it was unreal– you wondered how it felt for him. satoru's pale cheeks were slightly flushed with your blood as he licked his lips clean.

the feeling of an orgasm, of post-run endorphins, of a blissed-out high– none of those descriptions came close to the pleasure he'd just given you. you couldn't believe you'd once had the nerve to refuse him. when before you'd been terrified, it was now clear; you belonged here, belonged to him.

you looked up at him through your lashes, inconsolable. you were begging shamelessly at this point as your body throbbed with desire. "i need more."

satoru hummed and brought your marred wrist to his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. “i’d hate for this to go to waste.” his tongue trailed over the soft skin, lapping up every drop as his features softened in pleasure. he was so beautiful like that, and a sense of pride surged through you when you realized you were the only one who'd ever get to see him in this light.

when your arm was clean and clotted, he guided your hand down to his waistband, lower, placing your palm on top of the firm bulge. “you feel that? no one’s done that to me in decades."

a strangled sound escaped from your throat, a cross between a cry and a moan. he was entirely intoxicating, and all you wanted was to feel him closer. you were overcome with lust, so eager to please as you arched up into him. you'd been with other people before but that was naught but a memory as his hands flew to your hips and he urged you impossibly closer.

kissing satoru felt like drowning in a bath of heat. his lips moved hungrily over yours as though you'd personally been starving him for years. he was cold beneath your touch but the way his body responded to you sparked heat between the two of you.

suddenly, it wasn't enough. your voice had become scarce more than a whine. "satoru."

he dragged a hand from your collarbone, sliding over your breast, your side, your hip, resting just below your navel. chills overtook your senses; his slender fingers were spikes of ice on your skin as he took his time bunching up your shirt– likely, his shirt, and sliding it off your arms. goosebumps erupted all over as your bare breasts adjusted to the cold air.

amusement flashed in satoru's eyes as though he was in on some secret joke. "you're cold."

a second later, your back was hitting the mattress, and his arms were caging you in as he looked down at you. the lust in his eyes was intense, primal, possessive. you slipped your hands beneath the hem of his top, running them over the smooth, chilled skin of his muscled back, and he hissed between his teeth. the sound sparked a throbbing between your legs and your blood was roaring in your ears.

nothing would ever compare to the bliss of him feeding on you, but it seemed as though he was making it his mission to give you the next best thing. satoru lips trailed over your exposed skin, leaving kisses down your sternum, over your abdomen, down, down until he stopped just before his mouth reached your hips. you watched in anticipation, and when those bright blue eyes met yours, they were filled with an otherworldly fascination.

your throbbing clit was begging for relief, for even the lightest of pressure but you were completely at satoru's will, and you didn't dare ask for anything. he smiled at you before shifting his gaze to your naked cunt, and you threw your head back onto the mattress, suddenly too overwhelmed to look at him any longer. his hands were on your thighs, pulling them apart before his mouth finally made contact with your clit.

you gasped, your hips jolting toward the ceiling from the sensation. as if you didn't already feel like his prey, he began to feast on your pussy with expertise that could only be gained from thorough knowledge of a woman's body. pleasure flowed from the follicles of your hair to the tips of your toes with each swirl of his tongue over your sensitive bud. he was careful, almost timid, as if he was afraid of hurting you or scaring you, but that lasted for only a moment.

satoru's mouth disappeared and instantly, you looked down in confusion to see why he might've stopped. but he was grinning, obviously self-satisfied as he asked, "is this what you like?"

you nodded, perhaps more fervently than necessary, but instantly his tongue was back on your clit and you moaned, fisting the quilt as you tried to grind into him further. then you felt his finger slipping inside and curling as he filled you to his knuckles. your mouth fell open as he found a perfect rhythm, teasing at your sweet spot while simultaneously working your clit.

he touched you like he owned you, as though you'd been his for years and he'd learned every inch of your body and how to make you cry out. it wouldn't take much more to have you spilling over the edge, and you almost told him as much, but suddenly you were staring into his eyes and he was looking down at you with hunger.

as soon as his legs were bent on either side of your own, he brought his face down to yours. his lips were shining with your slick and he kissed you, hard, hot and desperate despite the chill of his body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he groaned, filling your mouth with your own taste and it was then that you realized he was starting to lose control.

"when's the last time someone touched you?" you asked, suddenly curious. you wanted to know every last detail of his life, from his family to what he did in his spare time to whether he had to brush his teeth. you returned his desire to consume you tenfold.

satoru chuckled as he seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "don't worry about that, now. just let me have you– please." the words were saccharine on his tongue, and you realized then just how deadly someone like him could be. satoru was beautiful, charming, absolutely intoxicating and irresistible; no person in their right mind could possibly refuse him.

satoru's lips grazed the shell of your ear and you shivered bodily when you felt his teeth catch your lobe gently. the restraint this man must've had to exercise was downright absurd, but when he spoke, your mind went somewhere altogether different. "are you a virgin?"

you shook your head, a sudden burst of fear cutting through the haze of your desire. you wondered what he might think of your answer but you didn't want to lie– in fact, it seemed that you were incapable of it.

"good."

he slid into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. you whined loudly; the stretch was so painful yet so pleasurable, and satoru groaned, "put your hands on me. promise it'll help." his words were commands, yet the timbre of his voice was like a prayer, as if he was this close to begging.

and he was right; your hands clung to his shoulders and somehow, it made you feel safe even if you were completely at his mercy. you'd been with men before but you'd never had anyone this big. it nearly felt like you were being split in half, but the intimacy of it all, of him holding you through the pain, was almost as good as his teeth piercing your neck.

his lips brushed over your pulse as he spoke, voice low, "that's good. you're so warm."

the feeling of his lips ghosting the delicate skin of your neck made you lose your mind. your body responded to him without awareness, already addicted to his expression of thirst for your blood. your cunt tightened around him unconsciously, sucking him in as though your body was afraid to lose his cock. you needed-

"more," you cried. "please."

satoru hummed, amused. "you're ravenous." but he obliged you, pulling out until only the tip of his cock was teasing your entrance. you'd never been this needy before, as though your body now required his touch to survive.

his hips snapped into yours, burying himself so deep that your vision blurred. his pace was brutal, unrelenting as his tip nudged into your cervix with every stroke. you were so full, and when his thumb brushed over your clit, your whole body jolted beneath him.

"don't forget to breathe," he teased, looking down at you with an easy smile. how pathetic you must've seemed to him, how human you were compared to him. he wouldn't tell you this until another night, but he loved how delicate and pliable you were. part of his obsession was due to how different you were from him. he didn't need a reminder to breathe, to rest, to drink water, to listen to his body. his body had only two needs: his thirst and you.

you gave into satoru completely. a particularly hard thrust made you whimper and dig your nails into his back with a ferocity you didn't know you had. satoru grunted and captured your lips with his own again, exploring your mouth with his tongue not unlike how he'd done with your clit.

"that's it," he said. he leaned down, pressing his chest flat to yours so that his lips could capture your own once more. it was wet and messy, your tongues sliding over each other's as you moaned into his mouth. the pleasure was your undoing.

you felt a sharp sting when his teeth pulled at your lower lip, quickly soothed by a wet swipe of his tongue. you yelped loudly, tasting your own blood mixed with saliva and he moaned. your walls clenched, the pace on your clit was too perfect, the pain was sickening and you could barely breathe.

"ahh, satoru, 'm gonna-" oh, you were so pathetic at this point, completely bent to satoru's will, but it felt so right. it was divine, heavenly, nothing else mattered and would never matter to you again. his voice was steady and even, such a vast contrast to your gasping and whimpering, but there was a wicked grin on his lips as he watched you come undone.

"don't fight," he instructed. "i need to feel you."

your fingers gripped onto his soft white locks for dear life as your body convulsed uncontrollably, your orgasm tearing through you mercilessly. he kept fucking you, his two fingers bullying your clit the whole way through despite your begging him to stop. it felt so good it burned. tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you clung to him pathetically. you were just beginning to get yourself together when his thrusts grew impossibly fast and careless, and you watched starry-eyed as his mouth fell open, moaning just as pathetically. he looked human when he came, fucking perfect and beautiful with your name in his mouth.

you stayed like that for a few moments, pinned underneath him while you caught your breath and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. satoru gently pulled out, leaving you empty and cold as he settled himself beside you on the bed. your heart caved in, and you looked at him with complete adoration. his face was already returning to its pale complexion, you noticed with remorse.

"do you want more?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

you gaped at him. "more? i don't know if i can."

"well, i could do it forever, you know." was he bragging?

satoru kissed the top of your head stroked your hair as he pulled you into his bare chest, slithering an arm around your shoulders. "hush, now. you need your rest."

he drew the covers over your body, which felt so heavy now that the high had begun to wane.

"you're mine now," he whispered, pressing another light kiss to your temple. "do you understand?"

already, your body craved more– more of him, of the sweet feeling of him sucking on your neck. the addict's mindset suddenly became clear as you gingerly touched your pulse point. you felt where he'd sunk his teeth in and your mind clouded over with blissful submission.

the words spilled out of your mouth before you were aware enough to stop. "i love you."

satoru smiled, his perfect teeth stained red. you swore you saw his eyes light up in a way that seemed... human.

"you're mine," he repeated softly. "all mine, and i'm yours."

you hummed contentedly as you felt sleep begin to take you. "all mine." you weren't going to miss a single bit of your old life; satoru was going to keep you forever.

and you couldn't wait to finish that book.

@galagarts @monsieurgucchi @njutul @gojoscumslut thank u for reading <3 (i didn't edit this)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #vampire gojo #vampire au #for my freaks <3

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empresskylo · 13 hours

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trigger warning: age-gap, dub-con

john price knowing how wrong it is to think one of his sergeant's daughters is attractive.

he knows that when your father brings you to base one day, showing you around, he shouldn’t be looking at you the way he is. but the way you wore such a cute little skirt, exposing your soft legs, fuck, he found it hard. and the cute little bow you wore in your hair. he knows that shouldn’t be doing it for him… but it is.

and fuck, you’re way too young for him. how old did your father say you were? in your twenties? way too fucking young for the likes of him. and off limits. but when you give him a big smile, introducing yourself, he knows he shouldn’t have called you “doll.” the way you get shy at the pet name. fucking hell, he knows everything running through his mind is wrong.

he knows it’s wrong when he bumps into you as you find yourself on base rather often. how his hands linger on your back as he rights himself, the way you flush under his gaze, struggling to hold eye contact. and he definitely knows he shouldn’t be wondering what kind of underwear you have on. does it have a little bow? or are you wearing a lacy thong?

when you wander into his office one night, your father working late, he knows he should ignore you, ask you to leave. but he doesn’t. his eyes follow you as you stroll around the room. he knows he shouldn’t spin toward you in his chair as you approach, asking him innocent questions. he knows it’s wrong when he stands up and begins explaining the answer to you and you innocently move to sit on his desk. oh, and he definitely knows it’s wrong when he sits back down in his office chair, trapping you, your legs dangling off his desk in front of him. he sees the way you stutter, get all choked up at the close proximity.

he knows he shouldn’t take advantage of you, the way your lips part when his hand touches your exposed thigh. when you mumble “c-captain—?” confused at what he’s doing. he shouldn’t keep going, shouldn't want to elicit more bashful sounds as you struggle to compose yourself. knows he shouldn’t spread your legs in front of him, making your eyes widen. shouldn't grab your knees, pry your thighs apart. “what’re you—?” he knows he should have stopped then, but he didn’t. his fingers were too fast, finding the softness of your panties, stroking your core through the fabric. he had been waiting so fucking long for this. you were plaguing his thoughts. he didn't have a choice.

and you should have gotten up and ran out, but you didn’t. your legs fell a little more open for him, never imagining your little crush on your dad’s boss to amount to anything. and when price’s eyes go dark, his mind reeling with how you’re actually letting him touch you, you whimper.

and that was the end of price’s control (if he had any to begin with). everything else be damned. he no longer cares if it was wrong. he didn’t care that you were forbidden fruit. fuck, he had to have you. needed to have you. wanted to hear you make more sounds, and how your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the noises, embarrassed. “don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart.”

and when he pushes your pink panties to the side, letting his thick fingers slide into you, he groans. “so wet f’me?” he clicks his tongue. that’s when he realizes how badly you’ve wanted this too. how an older man who knows what he’s doing has enticed you. bet you’re wondering what it’s like to be with someone whose not some clumsy boy. but a man who cares about your pleasure above his own.

you gasp as he picks up speed, his lips tipping up as your eyes flutter. “feel good, sweetheart?” you nod vigorously, making him chuckle.

when his fingers leave you, you pout. “ever do this before?” he asks. your embarrassed reaction is answer enough. no, you haven’t. and that shouldn’t have made him groan. shouldn’t have made him stiffen even more in his already tightening pants. fuck, you were so innocent. and he was going to ruin you. ruin you for any other man.

so when he has you laying back on the desk, his cock in his hands, notching it between your thighs, he promises to go slow. you’re just so tight. “fuckin’ hell,” he curses when you flex around him. “this hurt?” he asks you, a bit out of breath.

you nod and he gives you a little kiss. “jus’ let yourself get used to me, doll. relax. there you go, atta girl. let me in, sweetheart.” he grunts as he bottoms out. your arms wrap around him and you whimper, feeling so stuffed.

he knows he should stay slow, let you take your time. but he can't. no, he thrusts into you, ignoring your yelps, and then he's done for. he keeps a steady pace rocking against you, already so close knowing no man has ever done this to you before, he remembers he never locked his door. the way his desk is bumping against the floor, someone might come in to investigate. and that someone could be your father.

he’d see his little girl, shirt shoved up to her chin, skirt hiked up around her waist, her arms wrapped tightly around his captain whose at least 15 years her senior as he thrusts into her, making her moan, taking her virginity roughly against his desk.

price knows he should tell you to quiet down, to not make so many noises, but all your little cries and mewls are sending him closer to the edge. his fingers find your clit and you mewl. you gasp and struggle to breathe, the sensation of everything so overwhelming. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“i-i think so,” you stutter, tears streaming down your cheeks. he picks up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, his hand groping your breast roughly, sure to leave bruises. “that’s it, sweet girl,” he praises as he feels you tightening around him. feels your walls spasm. and when you finally orgasm, your body shaking under his weight, he spills himself inside you.

and he knows he should have pulled out. knows he should have used a condom. but he didn’t. in some sick twisted way, this was his way of claiming you. and you did so well letting him fill you up. your ankles tighten around him as if you don’t want him to leave. so he doesn't stop himself from spurting ropes inside you, the white liquid seeping out around his shaft.

you sit like that for several beats, arms grasping at him, clawing him against your chest, before he chuckles. “gotta let me go, sweetheart. don’t worry, i won’t go anywhere.” your legs fall away from him, realizing you are holding him hostage.

he groans when he pulls out, the way you leak all over his desk. he shouldn't enjoy that sight, the way you're laying languidly on his desk, out of breath, shaken up, his come dripping out of your weeping cunt.

but he does know he should help you up, clean you with a spare shirt he finds in his office. adjust your skirt and shirt so they sit properly again, your arms weak and limp at your side. kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did for him. tips your chin to look up at him, "really?" you ask, eyes hopeful and full of life.

"such a sweet girl," he coos, guiding you out of his office. and he knows your father won't have a clue. won't even notice the way you limp slightly as you walk. probably thinks his captain is so nice leading you through base, keeping you company while he works late.

and price knows he shouldn't do this again, shouldn't even think about doing it again. but you were just so good to him. so perfect as you let him have his way. your tiny gasps, the way you clawed at him, how tight you were. he wasn't sure he was strong enough to hold himself back.

cod masterlist

#i need to be put in a cage #john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price headcanons #cod mw3 #cod fanfic #cod headcanons #captain john price #captain price smut

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bunnys-kisses · 3 days

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the big, bad wolf(f)

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, hybrid au, wolf!toto, rabbit!reader, needy!toto, size difference/kink, missionary style, age difference (20s/50s)

a/n: this is part of a f1 hybrid au, i haven't stopped making bakery prompts, this is just something a tiny bit different! if have any ideas to share lemme know!

"my, my, what big teeth you have, mister wolff." you came close to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you sat down in his lap.

toto's wolf-like ears twitched at your words before he leaned in close to you. he cupped your face softly and gazed into your eyes with his dark ones, "teeth, my love." he held you a little closer to him and kissed at your arm, "i guess all the more to bite you with."

he watched your ears twitch a little. cute bunny behavior. he reached for one of your long ears and touched it gently. he watched you squirm a little and he chuckled. he knew you liked that.

toto could be a little scary. he stood much taller than you, and could easily pick you up. with pointed dark ears and a tail that you often rubbed up against when he didn't (or couldn't) give you attention.

you pressed your thumbs against his lips and giggled, "but you wouldn't eat someone like me. you love me too much." then kissed him on the lips.

an alarmingly younger bunny girlfriend and the rich older wold who loved her. it was a match made in heavy. he knew that it turned a few heads, especially when you were dressed in something cute.

he had to restructure your wardrobe so you weren't in softer colours every day, and everyone in the neighbourhood started to make assumptions. you were a university graduate, even though your degree was more wall decoration than actually used.

"i don't know, hase." he cupped your behind and pulled you closer to you. he buried his nose against you and took a small inhale, which was still enough to make the ticklish bunny in his lap jolt. he said as he held onto you tighter, "be still."

you felt a warmth in your body as you looked at him. eventually his face were between your breasts. the prettiest breasts toto had ever seen. he groaned.

you knew your older boyfriend was craving rabbit. you held his head and pressed your breasts up against him. he groaned and held onto you harder.

"does the big bad wolf want a taste of bunny?" you said lowly and hear him deeply exhale. you were going to be the death of him. you tilted his head to look at you and you giggled at the sight of him, "c'mon, honey, let's get you into bed." then got up off his lap, but you didn't get too far. as your wolf lover was close behind you.

your bunny ears twitched a little bit, and toto wanted to yank on them while you rode him. he hated that he felt a slave to instinct. but it was hard not to when his lover was just soft in all the ways he was tough. he was surprised a little bunny like you could take someone like him.

he knew he was so much bigger and had a domineering power over most. but you with those cute little ears, beautiful eyes, and cheerful demeanor, toto was a a panting dog.

when you got close enough to the bed and tried to get your slippers off, toto pushed you onto the bed ass up and you made a small panicked noise as you hit the bed then felt the weight of your lover on top of you.

you yelped and kicked your legs out a little bit and toto had his hands under you and was groping at your choice heavily. he wanted to feel his lovely rabbit.

"don't tear my clothes, you animal!" you kicked out a little more and felt your lover get off of your back and slowly take off your clothes. while the clothes weren't particularity expensive, it was a good pair of t-shirt and sleeping shorts (both stolen from your lover). it was hard to find comfort in most clothes these days!

before he took your sports bra on, he got you onto your back and groped at your chest. he shuddered a little bit at the sight of you, almost naked for him.

"such a pretty rabbit." he noticed the twitch in your ears and he rubbed his clothed cock up against your barely clothed front, "beautiful." he said, "i could put you between my teeth and just bite down. but i'd rather make you cum." something wild ran through toto when he was with you.

soon you were naked and you began to help toto out of his clothes. his large hands on you as you unbuttoned his dark blue shirt. your hands were a little shakey as you undid every last button.

toto eyed you carefully before he was able to take the shirt off his shoulders. you whined a little bit as the sight of you, but he took you by the chin and pulled you in for a heated kiss.

"so lovely." he said, his lips so close to yours. he watched you squirm a little bit as you panted heavily against his lips. he felt like a dream, you felt heat do its rounds in your core.

both striped as naked as you could get. toto kept you on your back with your legs spread for him. he licked his lips, his gaze felt hot. almost like a predator. he leaned into your touch when you ran your hand through his dark hair.

"you should let it go grey." you remarked.

he chuckled as he invaded your space more, his eyes level with yours with his chest pressed against you, "no, no, hase. me all grey and you in those soft sweaters. people will get alarmed."

you giggled, "as if you're not like a foot taller than me. the little bunny and the big bad wolf!" then held onto his shoulders as he got his hands on your hips.

his larger cock pressed up against you. you shuddered a little bit at the feeling of it against you. you gasped when he inched it inside of you. his dark eyes on you as you squirmed a little bit.

"are you okay, hase? not too much pain?" he might be a wolf, and you might be a bunny, but he didn't want to harm you. you were his perfect rabbit. he clutched onto your hips as he moved himself against you.

he slowly got as deep as he could go and he watched your expression grow softer. a little blissed out as he got his entire length into you. you squirmed a little and felt the heat in your body grow.

you were beautiful under him. like the sweetest fruit on the tree, or the most tender rabbit in the field. of course, toto had to sink his teeth into your shoulder as you moved against him. he watched your toes curl and your legs kick out from the hot feeling of it all.

"my rabbit." he said, his voice tinged with a desperate want, "i need you. i need you every day of my life. you excite me in so many ways. you look beautiful under me."

you glowed a little under his attention and felt your stomach do small flips as he moved against you. your cute little cunt took him perfectly. everything about you was always so much smaller than the big scary predator you called a lover. the hungry wolf that was desperate for pretty bunny cunt. but, toto would always take care of you! he wasn't a crazy person.

he knew that he had to take care of his little rabbit, even if that meant thrusting up into her wildly. that made keeping your pussy nice was wet with his cum. he rutted against you and snapped his jaws a little from the pleasure of it all.

"my beautiful rabbit." he purred as he continued to move up against you. you fit him perfectly, he remembered when it was a bit of a struggle. but it wasn't your fault, you were just made so small for him. but nothing a little training wouldn't have fixed. you whimpered and whined as he fucked you.

"please, toto." you whined as you arched your back a little. pressed yourself further against him as he got a good look at every curve on your sweet body.

he once told a friend of his that bunnies fucked the best. the cutest little hybrids, pussies can take a beating and toto loved yours most of all. got him addicted to sweet cunt and cute smiles. he knew if you were on top, you'd be bouncing on him with that same blissed out look.

toto knew he was far gone with you. he knew that he wanted to make you his little bunny bride. then he'd make sure that nothing else could have you the way he did. except maybe a toy for when he wasn't home, something to occupy that cunt of yours. but, nothing else. no one else.

he was a wolf possessive of his little pack.

he continued to brush up against the softest parts of you, your pussy like a grip around his achy cock. he could feel his heartbeat in his throat the more he fucked you. he was egged on by your sweet sounds and your soft breasts up against him.

he gripped onto your hips tighter and heard you let out a sweet, almost sugary moan as he moved up against you. his cock hit all the right places for you. he knew he was going to leave you pretty insides all bruised, but you loved it.

you love when sex with him hurt a little, a reminder for days of how well he took care of you. he pressed into you further, his lips found yours as the two of you feverishly made out.

the bed squeaked under you, and it paired like a symphony with your beautiful muffled moans. when he broke the kiss you panted heavily.

"you pant like a dog." he said in a hot tone that left a shiver through you. he knew you were getting close. he could tell by how tense you were and the expression across your face.

his pace continued and soon you were holding onto him tightly. your arms hung around his neck as you grasped the back of his neck. you held onto him tighter via your legs as he thrusted as hard as he could. the bed moved under you and you felt a sense of euphoria when you climaxed.

"ah! toto!!" you whimpered as you came, leaving his cock fully slick with your wetness down to his balls. you clung to him like a lifeline while he battered the back of your sweet pussy. with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside you as well.

he marked your pretty insides with his cum and heard you whimper loudly into his ear. he eventually slowed to a stop before he was able to catch his breath. pleasure ran through his body like a lifeline. he tried to stop but your pussy called him back.

he was only able to stop himself when he saw how tired you look. bunnies fucked well, but they got easily tired out. all that energy in such a small package.

"do you mind if i take you again?" he asked softly as he took you in his arms. he watched you nod and say yes softly before he put you on your stomach and held your hips up.

he still needed his rabbit. he needed to feel your gooey insides and get himself off. you were so perfect for him, letting him use you while you get comfortable on your shared bed. he slipped his cock into you once more and knew that he would never get enough of his sweet bunny's cunt. <3

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eccentricallygothic · 3 days

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Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI.

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection.

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe.

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine.

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.”

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears.

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night.

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs.

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it.

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?”

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child.

He does that when he is horny.

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight.

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap.

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp.

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek.

“Yes, hubby.”

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again.

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool.

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kaleldobrev · 3 days

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Aren't You a Little Young? (4) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Asshole Cop & Sassy!Reader

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a shorter part | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 3

The first night (well, night was a strong word, as when the pair of you ended up finally going to bed, it was close to sunrise) sharing a bed with the older Winchester brother wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, but the entire time you were afraid to move a muscle, as you didn't want to accidentally roll over and spoon him. But you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you did that. What kind of excuse would you have come up with? Would he have believed you?

You kept your back toward him, and from your peripheral, you noticed that he also kept his back toward you. You wondered if he usually slept on his side, or just stuck to that way of sleep in order to give you as much sleeping space as possible.

When you woke, it was almost 9 in the morning; a lot later than when you usually woke when on a case, but you figured you must of needed the sleep because you got four hours instead of your usual two.

You reached out your hand at the empty spot next to you, and it was still slightly warm. You felt a slight sadness, hoping that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel room. You hoped that he would have waited for you to get up before doing anything. Then again, you didn't completely know how the man operated.

The sound of shower going on made your heart skip a beat, and you felt weirdly giddy knowing that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel. But as you heard the shower running, you could hear something else coming from the bathroom. Is he...humming? You questioned, and then you smiled, thinking how adorable it was that someone like Dean sung or hummed in the shower.

Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling at the situation. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; you were happy. But that happiness and smile quickly faded when reality started to sink in. Dean was not your boyfriend, and he was never going to be. Once this case was done and over with, you'd have to go back to your apartment to your actual boyfriend. A boyfriend who you were planning on breaking up with the moment you stepped past the threshold.

Dean was barely able to get any sleep because of you. Not because you were tossing and turning, but because of how close you were to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. You were barely a foot away from him, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch you; bringing you close to his chest and feel your skin against his. He wanted more than anything to just stroke your cheek and give you a forehead kiss. Maybe when the case was done and over with, he could somehow find an excuse to hug you at least.

He needed to stop with the fantasies of you and him together. It was never going to happen. You were never going to actively choose to be with him, or someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't a hunter, then maybe he would of had a chance with you. Then again, if he wasn't a hunter, maybe he would have never met you in the first place. That's when he started debating with himself about whether or not meeting you was the best thing to happen to him in a while or the worst thing to happen to him in a while.

Dean sighed, shutting off the water as he prepared himself to face you this morning. He was lucky when he woke up, because you were still sound asleep next to him. You were completely curled up, and you looked so peaceful.

The ride to the police station was quick, yet painful, as he was in another confined space with you. Your perfume or whatever you wore that smelt citrusy and woodsy at the same time kept hitting his nose throughout the drive. At one point, he held his breath so he couldn't smell you, because you smelt absolutely intoxicating to him. The urge to pull over and kiss you kept hitting him.

But that was not the only part of the drive that was torture for him. During the drive, you sang along to whatever music he had playing: Zeppelin, AC/DC, Johnny Cash, you name it. You knew every single word to every single song that he played. Did Sam put you up to this somehow to make him feel better after months and months of being a demon? He shook that thought quickly out of his head, as you being a siren made the most sense to him. Then again, Sam did like to fuck with him sometimes...

Out of nowhere, you turned to him, a soft smile on your lips. "So, I was thinking, after we go talk to some of the cops and hopefully get some files at the station, we go back to that diner and actually have a sit down meal together?" You asked. The question you asked him was so innocent, but yet, he sensed a slight romantic intention behind it. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't have. You were dating someone and you were 15 years younger than him; there was no chance that you were. But in order to survive, he needed to say no, as much as he wanted to say yes.

"Sure," he said, and mentally cursed at himself.

"Awesome," you said, keeping that same soft smile on your lips. You turned back to the window and looked out, resting your chin on your hand as you continued to quietly hum to Deep Purple.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Shaw, and this is my partner Special Agent Hanniger. We're here in regard to the three murder victims you've had in the last month," you stated, both you and Dean flashing your respective badges.

The officer looked at you and Dean a few times, before a confused look formed on his face. "Aren't you a little young looking to be a federal agent ma'am? You look to be jailbait to me," he said, half chuckling to himself.

All you wanted to do was roll your eyes at this jailbait comment, and reprimand him to making such a comment, but you had to keep your composure. Unfortunately, this was not the first time you had heard such a comment, and it probably wouldn't be your last.

Out of your peripheral, you noticed that Dean was about to speak, but you quickly started talking, as you felt defending yourself would sound better coming from you, than him. "Why thank you Officer. I really appreciate that comment, because I can tell that my skin care routine is really doing wonders. But, just so you're aware, the minimum age to be a Special Agent is 23, and since I first applied when I was 23, and have been a Special Agent for the past five years, I am not what you call jailbait by any means. You can even ask my partner here, as he's been my partner all five of these years."

You flashed the officer a smile, the kind of smile you gave people to let them know that you were not going to be dealing with their bullshit. Silence fell between the three of you, and out of your peripheral, you could see Dean smirking, like he was impressed by you. "Whenever you're ready, we'd like to see those case files," you said.

"Um, right, right. Uh, this way Miss...I mean, Agent. Agent," the officer said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed by the confrontation that he probably wasn't expecting from someone like you.

Dean couldn't help but experience such an intense amount of joy in the way you spoke to the officer; as he couldn't have been more proud. There was a part of him that wanted to give you a pat on the back or give a thumbs up, followed by a 'that's my girl,' but he knew he couldn't do that. You weren't his girl; you weren't his anything.

“This is Special Agents Shaw and Hanniger,” the officer said, introducing you and Dean to the coroner. The officer looked at the two of you again. “Jones here can answer any questions you have,” he said, directing his comment to you and smiling.

“Thank you,” you said nodding, as the officer headed back up the stairs, leaving you, Dean, and the coroner alone in the basement.

“Special Agents?” Jones questioned, placing his pen down on his desk. “Why does the FBI have an interest in these cases? They’re pretty cut and dry.”

“If they’re so cut and dry, why haven’t you released a cause of death yet to the public?” You questioned.

The coroner sighed. “We’re trying not to worry the public by releasing the causes,” he explained. But you weren’t taking that as an answer, as you felt that there was a deeper reasoning behind it.

“Meaning?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.

“I’m assuming the both of you read my reports,” Jones said, eyeing the two of you. You did, but you weren’t sure if Dean had the chance to glance at them at all before he switched places with Sammy.

“Yes, but your files didn’t have a whole lot of detail to them,” you stated.

“Not much I can write when the cause of death is something that’s completely unnatural for the body to do,” Jones said. “How do you explain to three separate families, that their loved ones had all of their blood drained from their bodies with no forced entry, no signs of a struggle, and no markings to indicate where the blood was drained from? If you know, I’d love to hear it.”

“Can we see the bodies?” You asked, and the coroner shook his head. “No?”

“They’ve already been cremated,” he said, almost sounding disappointed.

“Already? It’s an open serial murder investigation and the last murder happened not even three days ago.” You found it strange that there was not even one body that you and Dean could examine for yourselves.

“Although we have no leads, we wanted to give the families closure,” Jones explained. “Or do you not believe in closure Agent Shaw?”

“I do. But I’m not sure how you expect us to help you, when we don’t even have a single body to look at to see if you missed anything.” You were starting to become frustrated, annoyed at the coroner, even though you knew he was just trying to do his job — even if it was a lousy one.

You took a deep breath, and Dean took that as his cue to continue the conversation. “Can you give us copies of the autopsies you performed?”

“Yes, I can make copies for you,” Jones said, getting up from his desk. “The witness statements as well?”

“We’ll take anything that’ll be useful in finding a possible lead,” Dean said, and Jones nodded, leaving the room so he could retrieve copies of the reports.

Once the coroner left, you turned to Dean, slightly sighing. “I could really go for a beer right about now. How about you?”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 5 (Not yet available)

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leclerc-s · 14 hours

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track two: i wanna taste his lips, yeah, 'cause they taste like you

series masterlist

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

"got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend too, i wanna be with you so bad."

MID 2020

charles leclerc did not get jealous. he had nothing and no one to be jealous of, besides, it's not like he had anything to be jealous of. he was charles freaking leclerc, there was no reason for him to be feeling the way he was, so why the fuck was he feeling complete and utter jealousy towards oscar piastri? oscar didn't have anything charles could want. charles was the one who was the formula 1 driver, he's the one who was an f1 grand prix winner, he's the one who drove for one of the most historic f1 teams, he was the one people called the predestined.

oscar piastri absolutely didn’t have anything charles could possibly want, except for her. the one thing oscar had that charles wanted, he couldn’t possibly have. the only thing he could do was watch from the sidelines as she cheered him on and raced alongside him. actually charles wasn’t even sure if they were dating but it seemed like they were. why else would they be as close as they were, if they weren’t dating? people just weren’t that close, maybe that’s why people tended to think he was dating pierre.

“stare any harder and people will be convinced you hate him,” sebastian teased. charles turned to glare at his older teammate, “i do not hate him.”

sebastian laughed, “you could have fooled me. or maybe, it’s her you hate.”

“i don’t hate them!” charles shouted, several people turned to look at them, including inés and oscar. charles blushed before turning around to walk away, “i hate you,” he muttered to sebastian, “i’m glad you’re leaving.”

sebastian laughed again, “no, you’re not. who would argue with mattia for your sake?”

“it is very entertaining.”

“enjoy having her brother around next year."

"max warned me about them," charles whispered to the older man. talking badly about a drivers family seemed like taboo to charles. he didn’t even know carlos or his family and yet here he was, gossiping with sebastian about the.

sebastian sighed, "they are difficult, that entire family is. maybe you'll be the one fighting mattia next season."

charles huffed, not satisfied with sebastian’s answer, "but why are they so difficult?"

"sainz. sr is not used to coming second, to anyone," sebastian paused, "it was known between several of the drivers years ago, when max and carlos were toro rosso drivers, that their fathers didn't get along, hell even the media caught on at some point. sainz sr and jos hated each other, rumored it almost came to blows several times. so when max got promoted to red bull mid-season, sainz sr. lost it. carlos was put on a loan to renault, his contract didn't get renewed so he moved to mclaren. i don't think any of his children are used to coming second, especially not with a father like him. everyone talks about the difficulties max faced with jos as his father but i imagine sainz sr was just like him with carlos.”

“but what about inés?” charles question. sebastian sighed, a frown on his face, “a daughter being a racer is not what sainz sr wanted. he wanted her to focus on her studies, carlos was supposed be the one to carry on the family name in motorsports, not her, never her. every time he’s almost given up on her career, inés has proved him wrong. vice champion in two consecutive series, that’s no small feat for a woman. it’s- huge for her, it also helps that she has fernando in her corner backing her.”

"inés seems to be content with being second to piastri," charles pointed out, referring to sebastian’s earlier statement.

"she is a girl in a male dominated sport. if she comes in first or second, she still breaks records. she's not coming second to anyone charles."

"you're wrong," charles muttered, "she comes second to carlos."

sebastian sighed, "trust me, i know," sebastian paused, choosing his next words carefully, "just, be careful next year charles. you don't want to make an enemy of the sainz family."

charles rolled his eyes, "i'll be a good kid, i promise."

"charles, this is serious," sebastian argued, "the sainz family is not someone you want to cross, ever."

charles stilled for a moment, processing sebastian's words, "okay, i swear."

sebastian moved to walk away and charles stood there for a moment, trying to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he didn’t have a weird infatuation with inés. because the way he say the situation, it was weird, he was 5 years older than her, they had first met when she was a kid. granted they only ever held a few conversations, with inés taking a liking to his younger brother more than him. it made sense though, arthur was the one racing in the same series as her, he was the one closer to her in age. charles jumped when her heard someone snickering, he turned and came face to face with fernando alonso, f1’s resident menace.

noticing his startled expression fernando looked at him, and charles was not ready for what was about to come out of his mouth, "eres un idiota."

now charles didn't speak spanish but he sure as hell knew fernando had just called him an idiot. charles was not an idiot, most of the time. so why the hell had he just stared at fernando and only muttered a "what?" and looked like a complete idiot?

"i said, you are an idiot, she is too, and him."

"him?" charles questioned, "who's him?"

fernando chuckled, "use that brain of your leclerc. as checo says, te lo dejo de tarea."

"what does that mean?" charles asked as fernando turned to leave. fernando shrugged as he left, leaving charles just standing there confused. before charles could follow after him he was met with the sight of carlos, the spaniard smiled at him and charles returned it. he looked around trying to spot the older spaniard but couldn’t find him anywhere, charles would have to later ask him how he disappeared like that. before he could even think about leaving carlos struck up a conversation with him forcing him to stay put.

HEARTBURN

"and tell me why does my heart burn when i see your face?"

when oscar first saw charles leclerc, there was no doubt in his mind that he was an attractive man. which left him feeling confused, why the hell was he thinking that about a man? oscar wasn't gay, at least he thought he wasn't, oscar wasn't quite sure. it's not like he ever had the time to discover if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. one thing he knew for sure was that he liked girls, he had girlfriends in the past. all oscar knew was that charles leclerc was an attractive man. and look, oscar had kissed a few guys on a dare, namely his best friend logan sargeant, but those kisses never meant anything. he never felt anything after those kisses and it's not like he'd had what many called 'a gay awakening'

oscar wasn’t even sure if he was just supposed to wake up one day and decide if he liked men or not. were there rules to that? was he supposed to talk to someone? was he supposed to talk to him mum about his feelings? was it supposed to be one of those moments in books where he went oh, oh, and realize he liked men and women? what the hell was he supposed to do?

“mate,” logan whispered, “you’re staring.”

oscar shrugged his best friend off, “i am not.”

“you absolutely are,” frederick chimed in. oscar turned to glare at the dane before huffing out, “i am not.”

before frederick could reply, inés joined them, “who are we staring at?”

“charles leclerc apparently,” logan joked. inés laughed, “are you three finally realizing that charles leclerc is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1?”

“wouldn’t that be your brother?” frederick questioned. the dane looked like it had hurt to say that, everyone one in their friend group knew about the rocky relationship inés had with her brother. inés made a face at that, “no, trust me, it’s charles leclerc.”

“what about my brother?” arthur chimed in as he too, also joined them. inés smiled at the youngest leclerc boy, “who you do you think is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1. i think it’s charles, fred thinks it’s my brother.”

“definitely lewis hamilton,” logan chimed in. the four of them turned to look at oscar, waiting for his response. the australian blushed, “off the grid? jenson button. on the grid? daniel ricciardo.”

arthur laughed at the australian, “i think it is red bull sebastian.”

inés gasped, “why didn’t i think of that!” she paused for a moment, “but i agree with osc, it’s gotta be jenson button.”

frederick snorted, “yes, it’s 100% jenson button.”

inés sighed dreamily, “i love him, i could marry him in a heartbeat.”

arthur elbowed the australian, wiggling his eyebrows, as if to say, “you wish she was saying that about you huh?” oscar rolled his eyes at the monegasque but it’s not like that had stopped arthur from making fun of him before.

“he’s twice your age,” oscar pointed out, “not to mention married and a father.”

“he could be your father,” logan joked.

inés rolled her eyes at both of them, “age is just a number boys.”

“and prison is just a place,” oscar muttered. frederick who stood beside him, giggled softly. arthur leaned over, “your jealousy is showing oscar.”

oscar harshly elbowed arthur, “shut up.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

later that night, when oscar laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling he found himself asking why he felt butterflies in when he had met charles leclerc's eye. that had never happened before, and he had met the older leclerc plenty of times. perhaps it was time oscar actually talked to someone about his feelings but who? he couldn't talk to his mom because that was an embarrassing conversation waiting to happen. he couldn't talk to mark about it because for some reason the older australian put charles leclerc in a box with sebastian vettel. not that mark still hated sebastian, he had been very clear about that, but to oscar it still seemed like it hurt mark to talk about him or anything related to him.

oscar sure as hell couldn't talk to logan or fred about it because all the two blondes would do is make fun of him. not that they didn't do that already but oscar was NOT going to sit through another conversation with them so they teased him relentlessly. besides, oscar was like 98% sure he was just going through a phase. but it couldn't be a phase, there had been that boy in primary school that oscar had thought was cute, then there was that short time period where he had a massive crush on sebastian vettel, much to mark's disappointment. oscar could remember him muttering, "why couldn't he crush on jenson instead?"

which, oscar could admit, he also had at one point, but he could never remember feeling that way towards charles leclerc. he had met charles plenty of times, that's usually what happened when you were friends with someone. arthur had met his family and he had met arthur's family. none of that explained why oscar felt stupid little butterflies whenever he made eye contact with charles leclerc.

then, there was the inés sainz of it all. oscar was sure he had a crush on girl, actually he knew he had a crush on her, he had since before they met. it was part of the reason as to why logan had gone up to the younger girl all those years ago. teasing oscar had always been logan's favorite past time, it still was to this day. what oscar couldn’t understand was how he had developed feelings for two people at the same time.

what was even more confusing was how he had developed feelings for people who seemed like complete opposites. he didn't know what it was but the two just seemed like they would never get along (oh how wrong he was, not that he knew that yet) so there oscar sat, confused not only about his own feelings but why he felt the way he did.

liked by, isahernaez, aidan, lilymhe and others

ines_sainz we go back to racing this week!! i will no longer be rotting in a hole somewhere. (edit: oscar is demanding for joris' rights. 📸 joris_trouche)

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maxverstappen33 you're literally in my spare room watching criminal minds?? when the fuck did you take these??

ines_sainz when we were in australia for the race that never happened?? user01 traveling during a global pandemic?? what the fuck is wrong with rich people?? maxverstappen33 we're in fucking austria for our jobs your moron ines_sainz i'm quarantining with max because apparently i can't be left to my own devices fernandoalo_oficial you nearly set your apartment on fire with a candle.

aidan come back home??

ines_sainz i have a job?? aidan and?? so do i?? alex_albon you're an influencer 💀 user02 you cannot convince me that those guys actually like aidan

oscarpiastri wow, no credits for me??

ines_sainz YOU DIDN'T TAKE THE PICTURES?? JORIS DID?? arthur_leclerc why are you hanging out with joris?? ines_sainz do i have to remind you that our brothers are coworkers arthur?? or did you just forget that?? oscarpiastri wow, no creds for joris?? ines_sainz you're annoying, go away.

louieee baby gorl you are stunning

ines_sainz thank you baby gorl logansargeant THIS IS YOUR FAULT! SHE WON'T STOP CALLING PEOPLE BABY GORL AROUND THE PADDOCK! charles_leclerc it's true. i've never seen sebastian turn so red and we drive for ferrari landonorris glad to know i'm not the only victim. ines_sainz puh-lease norris, you wish i called you baby gorl. i only reserve that for the babiest of baby gorls. alex_albon glad to know i'm in that category. lewishamilton that actually explains so much now

user03 knowing this girl is about to make waves in f3 fills me with joy.

user04 right? absolutely killed it in f4. i can't wait to see what she does later on user05 oh those sainz racing genes go hard

joris__trouche i am being forced against my will to ask for my picture credits...free me

ines_sainz you let a koala of all people bully you into doing this?? joris__trouche he is very good at getting people to do what he wants ines_sainz trust me, i know. i'm still bitter about my tim-tams...

carlossainz55 shouldn't you be training right now?

ines_sainz ximena allows 15 minute breaks ximena.gomez i'm your manager kid, not your trainer ines_sainz same difference

user06 she looks so pretty

user07 right? girl is so fucking happy to be back to racing user08 i, for one, am so fucking happy we're back to racing, i missed seeing 20 grown men go vroom in odd shapes for 90 minutes

charles_leclerc why are you hanging out with my best friend?? without me??

ines_sainz joris said he needed 5 minutes away from you joris_trouche it's true, i did. charles_leclerc i don't want you too hanging out again. you're mean to me when you hang out. ines_sainz you're not my dad. you can't stop me. charles_leclerc i'll tell your dad fernandoalo_oficial you're daughter is being mean fernandoalo_oficial that's my girl charles_leclerc oh-

user09 so is it not a joke that fernando is inés' dad or is it?

user10 at this point no one can fucking tell. like even laura and will are in on the joke. user11 that man is more of her father than her actual father is. i've never once seen that man at an f3 race cheering her on. fernando is always there. user10 it's worse when we know sainz sr is at races because he gets featured on sky or f1tv but he's never at her races. user12 oh my god you people are being so dramatic and for what? he clearly doesn't have the time to see her race in lower categories. user11 but clearly he can attend free practices for carlos...

patriciooward you have to come watch me race at least once this season hermana

ines_sainz let me have time and i'll come to at least one race patriciooward and that'll be?? ines_sainz until at least mid september patriciooward BOOO!!! your job sucks ines_sainz patricio, there was this thing called a global pandemic, you might remember what that was patriciooward i remember you pestered me for hours to play animal crossing with you. ines_sainz and the sims 4 because none of the losers i know wanted to play

user12 inés sainz playing the sims 4 with patricio o'ward was not something i knew i needed.

user13 someone tell arrow mclaren to get pato to play the sims 4 user12 just don't include mods or pato might combust patriciooward what are these mods you speak of?? ines_sainz STOP! NO ONE TELL HIM! user14 uh-oh, i feel like i'm to blame and i wasn't even involved in this. patriciooward oh i'll figure it out eventually. user15 where the fuck were you people when inés was documenting the sims 4 chronicles?? user13 clearly not where ever these chronicles where being documented.

BONUS: THE SIMS 4 CHRONICLES

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¡leclerc-s speaks!

this whole thing is almost 3k words, which is a lot for me. thought it was finally time to give you guys part 2 for the mini series i have going on with this story. i actually don't know how to write someone struggling with their sexuality all the well so i hope it was at least decent. (any pointers anyone has would be great for future reference)

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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rosyhoneydew · 1 day

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Against his better judgment, Tommy had actually been excited for the visit.

It had been over a year since he last saw Ron, longer since he'd seen his nieces and sister-in-law. They got along fine and all, they just got older and busier and life gets in the way, doesn't it? So when his big brother floated the idea of a stopover in LA on his way back from a business trip overseas, Tommy had looked forward to it.

Two full days to take him around, show him his city, let him see a little bit of what his life looked like these days. He'd definitely gotten overeager. He'd packed their weekend with stops in Hollywood, a proper tour of the city from the bird, and a few drinks with their friends, and Evan, of course. It'd been a while since anybody came to visit, in his defense.

They're at one of Evan's favorite breakfast spots when he starts to pick up on it.

Ron knows he's gay, Tommy had come out to his whole family a few years back, not really expecting much. A cursory this is who I am, take it or leave it was all that really needed to be said. He had been pleasantly surprised when his brother didn't so much as bat an eye. Sure, they didn't talk about it, but they never really talked about anything in his family. Par for the course on that one.

So it twisted in his gut when he noticed.

Tommy and I actually thought about taking a trip to Yosemite this fall. Maybe make a vacation out of our anniversary, Evan said. Ron had just grunted.

You should see Evan's place, Tommy had rolled his eyes, not without affection, I swear I should just move in there. Ron had cleared his throat and asked 'where the hell a guy could take a leak in this place.'

It's not a big deal, but Tommy feels his face growing hot. He feels stupid. Evan rests a hand on his back while Ron's away, but Tommy can't tamp down the impulse to shake him off when his brother makes his way back to the table.

The ride home is quiet, each of them unsure of what to say. Tommy invites Ron inside for a last coffee before his flight, but he declines. Gotta see what that LA traffic is about, don't I? Tommy nods, claps a hand on his brother's shoulder. See ya later, man. Ron's mouth tightens into something like a smile, nods once at Evan, and drives off.

He's quiet when they enter the kitchen, hands resting on the cool countertop. He feels Evan come up behind him, rest his forehead on Tommy's shoulder, wrap his arms tight around Tommy's chest.

I'm sorry.

Tommy sighs and fits his hand over Evan's. He lets himself wallow, just for a little while in his partner's arms. He's not okay today, but tomorrow he'll wake up in those same arms, he'll tell his friends at work about the docuseries Evan's been loving lately, he'll spend guy's night at Eddie's with his partner like they do every other week now. And he'll be okay.

#911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #me? venting via mini fics from hit network tv show 911? More likely that you think!#also I am not a tommy only child truther sorry hahaha #my ficlet

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scintillyyy · 2 days

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actually it is interesting how dixon has tim discover his feelings for steph over the course of and in contrast to what was ultimately his failing relationship with ari & like. listen i'm not here ti cast judgment on either tim or steph here, but it was very much written by dixon as like. steph knowingly was very pushy about wanting to be in a relationship with tim even knowing he was actively in a relationship and fundamentally did not care about tim's girlfriend as a human being because steph saw tim being in a relationship already as basically minor inconvience because she wanted tim & tim clearly seemed to want her so he should just be with her instead. and like tim's hands clearly aren't entirely clean here either, because he did kind of ultimately just going with the flow and letting things happen. (but!! i am on the side of both of them are messy teens in their first relationships & neither deserves lifelong castigation for 14-15 year old messiness, let's be clear). but the circumstances around this messiness even being able to happen is because ariana is fundamentally unable to truly know what's going on as she's never privy to the secret. she had no way of knowing what tim is doing or who he's meeting--sure she gets jealous when she sees tim notice steph, but she never knows that there's another girl in tim's life exists & can't know. meanwhile the whole time steph is flirting with tim she is well aware that ariana, or "tim's girlfriend" exists. tim & steph exist because at the time of his relationship with ari, tim was allowed to actively and consistently interact with another girl while actively in a relationship with another one & steph was well aware and a participant in that.

and that's kind of by design--dixon, i do think dixon fairly early on decided that he was more interested in tim&steph over tim&ari, but i do think it's important to note that when dixon created ari he's on the record of conceiving of her as a lois lane type romance interest for tim, she was clearly originally intended to have long term sticking power for him. but then--*readers* didn't vibe with her. there's letters in old issues basically asking--"hey, is steph going to come back, hey is steph going to date tim, hey love steph when are they getting together". so while dixon got fully on board with tim & steph i think it's safe to say he was also. probably very cognizant of readers deciding they like a different love interest better.

so there's an interesting pivot in dixon once tim & steph are firmly on the "getting together" train and it's that tim is not allowed to exist of breathe near other female characters without being chaperoned by steph or it involving steph somehow in deference to steph's jealousy issues. with steph's entrance into tim's life, tim is moved away from the mixed more sex friend group (that existed with callie & ariana) of gotham heights high to 1) homeschooling in keystone 2) all male boarding school brentwood. the only female friendship he gains is star, and that's used in a story for steph to misunderstand and start stalking star and her brother in an attempt to find tim & catch him in the act. tim is no longer allowed to team up with girls his age or a little older without stephanie there. he's not even allowed to be concerned about random adult woman dana (his stepmom) without steph breathing down his neck despite the fact that once they start dating tim is doggedly pretty loyal to steph as far as girls were, far more than he ever was with ariana. & like. in universe this is an interesting character beat for steph considering the start of their relationship being that steph pushed tim while he was in a relationship & is paranoid of all other women, that they'll act like she did. but from an out of universe perspective you can tell dixon was absolutely shutting down any other relationship possibility for tim other than steph. he knew the pain of creating a love interest that got subsumed in interest by another and was under no circumstances going to let anyone else in that that could become a threat to his girl. hence, every time he teams up with a girl after steph has to be there, monitoring & chaperoning. which is very interesting. considering their beginnings and steph's own willingness to hang out with a guy known to be taken without his girlfriend there & her eventual disallowment of tim to do anything with girls who aren't her.

#sorry the tim & cass post got some mkre traction and i'm thinking again #how once dixon had tim get together with steph that was a major shift of. tim's not allowed to be friends with girls

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jo-harrington · 2 days

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Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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icarusredwings · 3 days

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It's bed time, kiddo 2/3

Wade's being a brat. Althea ain't having that.

Tw: Mentions of alcohol and voices

Opening the fridge, He leaned over to get a soda. Turning, he kicked it closed, beginning to hum as he popped open the tab. Putting it to his lips, he glanced up, jolting hard. Spitting out the soda, his hand coming to his chest as he fell back against the couter.

"Wade! Jesus fucking christ!!"

"Hi wolvie..."

"You just almost got sliced in half!! What is wrong with you!? Do you want me to hurt you!? For fucks sake!"

"...." his eyes widdened and frowned, pulling Fluffy up to hold tighter.

"Im sorry.. sorry.. I just-" he took a deep breath and sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" He asks, looking as if he had just seen a ghost, trying to calm down, gripping the counter.

"...My tummy feels sad."

"What? You were just asleep. I saw it."

From the living room, Al spoke up with a soft smirk. "How does it feel? Fuckers so silent. Scares the shit out of me all the time."

"But... my tummy is sad."

"What does that mean??" He squinted some, trying to work out this weird puzzle of words.

"He's either hungry or he's anxious about something." The older woman says. "Now shut up, I'm trying to watch Wheel of Fortune."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Sure you are..." He turns to see Wade looking a little too scared for his liking.

"So... uhm.. Are you hungry?"

But he dosn't awnser, staring at him with such hesitancy as if Logan would snap at him again if he awnsered.

Grunting, Logan mentally stabbed himself. Wade was so sensitive to him yelling. He knew this. All that trust.. so easily taken away. "What do you want to eat, kid? Hot dogs?"

Still, he stares. His shoulders slouch, bringing his hand up to rub his face. "..Come're," he tells him, opening an arm to him. Immediately, he came, starting to sob.

Rubbing his back, Logan let out yet another sigh. "I know.. I know, Im sorry. I didn't.." he didn't mean to scare him. He hated scaring him, actually. Made him want to get his claws surgically removed, but you know, declawing your kitty was unethical. He needed to be able to scratch sometimes.

He had been so freaked out that Logan had to pick him up again, softly bouncing him and telling him it was okay.

"Wade, cut that shit out! You're a big boy remember?"

"He's allowed to cry." The man says, confused as to why Al was rude, seeing as she's the one who told him to be nice the first time.

"Logan, sweetheart.. You know he's faking, right?"

"...what?"

"That boy is pulling a burlap sack over your eyes and water boarding you."

Logan blinked at the woman. ".. I dont think thats how that saying goes.."

"Oh well, anyway, he's fake crying. He does that to get what he wants and he's turning you into a fool."

Logan shifted him to the counter, giving him a suspicious glance. "Is that tru- oh you little shit!"

Wade's face wasn't even wet. Sure, his eyes were glossy but nowhere near the amount of crying he was claiming. Holding fluffy closer to his face, he looked at him like a guilty dog, almost ashamed if it wasn't for the tiny pull at the corner of his lips. He was proud of his preformance.

"Are you happy with yourself? Hm?" He crosses his arms, looking at him sternly.

A soft nod.

Logan snorted softly. "At least you're telling the truth... so what do you want?"

Again he whispers, "My tummy is sad."

Thinking about what Althea said, He rose a brow, beginning to playfully and driamtically sniff over him. A soft squeal and giggles came from him, trying to push his face away. "Noo!! Kitty! Don't bite!!"

"Fucking freaks.." Al grumbled, Petting the rat dog in her lap.

"Hmm.. Okay. You're telling the truth about that. But why is your tummy sad? Does it hurt?"

He shook his head.

"Are you hungry?" He asks again. For a moment, Wade thinks, trying to see if he was hungry.

"Cup?"

Logan shook his head. "Nope. Bed time."

"But.." he was trying to find his words.

"Mommy said I can ask for cup whenever I want."

His brows raised a bit, both surprised and proud of how many words he said. "That's true but I'm not mommy."

Instantly he began pouting, frowning and crossing his arms, mimicing the way Logan did often. "Why?"

"Ppft. Yeah, Logan, why are you not Mommy?" The grandmother asks, teasing him. It seemed that the closer he got with people, the more teasing he got, too. It made him feel home.

"You're not helping." He gives her a quick glare despite the fact she couldn't see it, now turning back to Wade, putting his hands on either side of him as he sat. "Why what? Why no cup?"

He nods with a huff.

"Wade, It's bedtime. No more cups."

"You're being mean." He whines, kicking the back of the counter with a loud grunt.

Rolling his eyes. "It's not being mean, You don't need anymore alchool. You've already had 5 shots tonight. No more. Especially not if you're going to act like that." He grumbles, wishing he didn't act like a brat every time Vanessa came over. She always spoiled him too much.

He whines loudly, being quite annoying. "But you get a lot."

"Im big." Logan says blatantly, having learned that this usually stopped him from questioning any further.

"Oh yeah....." He mumbled, begining to think as he petted Fluffy. "Hmm...can I just have milk?"

"Juice. Take it or leave it."

"In my cup?"

He groans. "Yes in your cup."

"Okay!"

And so, He comes around the counter, opening the fridge once again as he grabs the grape juice, filling up the Spiderman cup after rinsing it out decently well.

Taking the cup, He began drinking it, now kicking his feet happily that he not only caused a scene, got his cup, but also stayed up later, then he was told. To him, that was a massive win.

"There. Now go to bed."

"You come?"

"Sure, why not. If it'll make you go to bed, then fine." By now, he figured he probably wouldn't go to sleep and stay asleep unless someone was in bed with him.

He's gotten used to sleeping with Althea for years now, so it made sense why he wouldn't be able to stay asleep if alone. He usually only slept by himself if it was a sick day and he wanted to be left alone.

"Come on. You want me to carry you?"

His eyes widden as he nods quickly only to pause. "Kitty..."

"What now?" He wanted to lay his head on the counter and just not awnser him anymore but he knew this wasn't a good idea. Then Wade would just get into things and make a mess for them to clean up.

Either that or end up with the whole bottle again to chug what was left of it. He knew that it made his head shut up for a little bit, he knew full well that, that 5 minutes of silence was worth the loss of balance but he didn't want Wade following into his bad habits... He was trying to be a better role model for him.

"Im hungry..." Though the way he says this was as if he knew Logan would be upset with him, smiling sheepishly as he held fluffy tight, close to his face. The cuter he looked the less he thought he'd get introuble.

"What!? But I just asked if you were hungry like 5 minutes ago?!"

He batted his eyes, whining softly. "...I wasn't hungry then.."

So. Here they are. All 4 of the housemates on the couch, Wade with a plate of microwaved hot dogs and ketchup all over his fingers, Logan in the middle trying his damndest not to fall asleep, and Al, who was snoring already as A re-run played on the tv.

Giggling at whatever was going on in his head, Wade seemed happy as a clam as he clapped. At least, that's what Logan thought. In reality, He was sneaking pieces of hot dog to Puppins, who was wiggling her bare tail and spinning in cirlces as well as licking the ketchup off of him.

It wasn't until Wade let out an audible yet giggly "Ewww you're so yucky." From the feeling of her tounge trying to wrap around and eat his finger instead that Logan sat up. "Hey! What did I tell you about feeding her ketchup!?"

Squealing again, He gave her an entire hot dog and shooed the dog. "Run puppy!!"

And so she did, taking her prize from being adorable and doing tricks, running away from them, slipping under the table in which Logan grunted, reaching under to try to get it away from her.

Look- Its not that the hot dog was bad, it was the fact that it wasn't cut and was slathered in vinegar and tomato paste. He didn't want her to puke, nor choke but by the time he got it from her, she has already devoured half of it.

"Damn it, Wade!"

Picking up the little dog, He couldn't stop giggling, the sugar from the grape juice working through his system. "Kitty's gonna get us, Puppy!" He says to her as she barks, happily wagging more as she was having the best time, so many scraps tonight.

Running from Logan, he huffed, glaring. "I'm too old for this shit!" He growls. Catching Wade was like trying to grab an oiled weasel. Slipping through your fingers and biting your arm once you got ahold of them. How Al slept through the chase? Who knows. But when he did catch him, he threw him over his shoulder, carrying him away to the bed.

"Nooooo!!" He whined, reaching out for the dog to save him though she just sat here, panting and wiggling her behind against the floor.

"Traitor!" He called the puppy, whose head tilted and itched her ear, watching her owner get dragged away to his doom (bed time).

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #wolverine #blind al #Althea Anderson #dogpool #mary puppins #caregiver logan howlett #kid wade #sfw interaction only #sfw agere #tw alchohol mention #go to bed #goodnight little one

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days

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ive been rereading hp recently and one thing that confuses me is ron's first wand bcs its charlies but charlie gave it to ron after leaving hogwarts?? i dont understand why. did charlie not need a wand? did he get a new one? (if he did get a new one, why? and why could ron not have gotten a new one too?) it just seems so strange and goes against everything else we seem to learn about wands later.

i also suspect the reason ron struggled so much in early years is because of his second hand wand. ron is quite smart (the chess game) and even magically pretty decent (he learns a patronus fairly quickly in ootp and thats deemed hard magic, can hold his own in fights, etc).

im curious on ur opinions on this and about ron's wand situation. (sorry if uve discussed it before and ive just missed it!)

I didn't discuss this before, and it is interesting. I don't think we have a canon answer to why Chalrie replaced his wand, but we do know he still has a wand. He'd have to, considering wands are everything for European wizards and he'd need it as a dragon tamer.

Charlie was born in December 1972, so he started Hogwarts in September of 1984 and graduated his seventh year in June of 1991, a few months before Ron started Hogwarts in September of 1991.

Why would he choose to get a new wand and give his old one to Ron at that point? I don't actually know, but I have a few possibilities, from least likely to most likely:

1. The wand stopped working for him. Charlie's personality or goals or something else changed drastically during his final year or graduation, and he needed to get a new wand because his old one didn't really work for him anymore.

2. There's a superstition that wizards who want to work with dragons should have a dragon heartstring wand. As Charlie knew he was going to work at a dragon reserve and his wand had a unicorn hair core, he might have chosen to replace it from the misguided belief a different core would be better for his profession. (I don't actually know if this superstition is a thing, I made it up as something that could get him to replace his wand and it seems reasonable with the kind of wand superstitions they have in the wizarding world).

3. It's possible that the wand wasn't even bought for Charlie, but used to belong to Grandpa Septimus or something and he used it while at school, then when he graduated, he saved up his own money to buy himself a wand of his own, since his wasn't actually made for him. So, then, Ron was using an even older family wand.

And yeah, I agree. We see it with Neville too, who is using his father's wand and it affects his magic negatively. However, I think Ron was much less affected than Neville since the core and wood of Charlie's wand did suit him. It wasn't the best fit, but it was a decent one, unlike Neville who had to fight his wand and feared it.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #hollowedtheory #anonymous #wandlore #charlie weasley #ron weasley

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my-wild-imagination1996 · 1 day

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Is There Somewhere?

A/N: This is not proofread and I am not perfect. There will be spelling and grammatical errors. No smut here. Just some angst and fluff

Inspired by this song: Is There Somewhere by Halsey

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON THE AMAZING HUGH JACKMAN AND MY CRAZY IMAGINATION

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Age gap (referenced frequently), reader is in late twenties and Hugh is 55

You and Hugh had been sleeping together since filming started for the marvel movie that you were both in. He had warned you in the beginning that you and him could be nothing more than good friends as far as anyone else was concerned. He told you that since you were only a few years older than his oldest child, he didn’t think that they would approve and that he really liked you but given the age difference there’s no way anything real could be there. At the time, you thought it’s okay, you weren’t gonna catch feelings. You verbally promised him that you would be fine and you wouldn’t want anything more than sex and friendship. He literally made you verbally promise him that you wouldn’t fall in love with him. As corny as that promise sounds, and you had actually laughed at the time thinking you could totally handle this. You fell for him a hell of a lot quicker than you thought possible.

You were in denial about it for a long time. Even your friends had noticed there was change with you and that you were absolutely smitten with the secret friends with benefits you were in. Your friends knew you were hooking up with someone from the set, but they had no idea who it was. Not even Hugh’s best friend, Ryan, knew that you two were sleeping together. Everyone believed that you two were just good friends despite being love interests on screen and having “amazing on-screen chemistry”, no one suspected that there would be anything going on between you two. Truthfully as far as you were concerned, you couldn’t care less what anyone said or what anyone thought about your age difference. I mean you were almost 30, you were old enough to know what you wanted or even who you were in love with.

You had rented an apartment where filming was located but you ended up staying at Hugh’s place more than your own. You finally accepted that you were in love with Hugh, when you were doing a press tour with him for the movie, this was a few months after filming finished, and while on this press tour, you both had often shared a hotel suite, unbeknownst to anyone else of course. You had both finished your interviews for the day. By the time you both were finished, it was around dinner time but neither of you had wanted to go anywhere but the hotel room and just finally relax. You had both agreed on ordering room service for the night. Your relationship, at this point, had developed beyond sex, and there was truly a friendship there.

While you and Hugh were waiting for your food to come up, you and Hugh were currently smoking your cart while in the kitchen of the suite you both were staying in. You were sitting on the counter while he was singing and dancing around. He was wearing a white tank top with sweatpants and tube socks. He invited you over to dance with him by extending his hand out to you. You jumped off the counter to accept his offer and he playfully danced and sang with you til a knock at the door startled you both, making you both break out into laughter before you exited from view while he grabbed the food. It was that night that you finally accepted that you were completely in love with this man. He had been extremely flirtatious with you and playful.

“So, y/n, I’m thinking of, maybe, pursuing a secret passion of mine.” Hugh told you after you two had finished eating.

“What? Porn?” You said, sarcastically but with a serious face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. I’m glad that I didn't explain and that you just knew.” He responded seriously while looking you in the eyes before you started laughing, but then he continued. “No, you fucking jackass, and don’t make fucking fun of this, but poetry. I write poetry in my free time and I’ve got enough of it that I could publish it.”

“Oh, well, what kind of poetry?” You asked.

“Mostly just about life and some about parenthood.” He said sincerely.

“What about romantic poetry?” You asked him.

“Not really my thing.” He responded.

“I think that it’s really amazing that you write poetry and I think that you should absolutely publish it, if that’s what you wanted.” You responded with all sincerity.

You were an actress but you occasionally released original music. You did more of a hobby than a career. However, as your acting career grew, so did your music career. Only problem was, you wrote music based on events in your life. As a few weeks went by and some of the press tour was finished. Unfortunately for you, Ryan, had let it slip during a comic con that you had a special hook up friend, meaning you and Hugh had to be even more careful and you couldn’t really stay in the same room like you had done so many times before. You could feel it in your gut that it was wearing on Hugh’s mind, that someone was going to find out. It got to a point where he was practically avoiding you.

You were in your own hotel room, watching some random show when your phone buzzed with a text from Hugh. It was your only two days off before the next leg of the press tour began.

“We need to talk. Is now a good time to come to your room?” As you reviewed the message, you felt tears come to your eyes, knowing in your heart that it was over. Your vision blurred as you typed out a simple “yes, now’s good.”

You fixed yourself up in the mirror before he came over. He took longer than you expected to get to your room. It was about twenty minutes after you sent him your room number that he showed up at your door. You let him in and he immediately began pacing the room, before finally settling on the be, while you stood leaning against the wall in front of him.

“Y/n, I need you to know that these last two years have been amazing.” He said with a sigh avoiding your gaze.

“Don’t.” You said, holding back tears while looking at him.

“We can’t do this anymore. There’s too much that could be jeopardized if anyone found out about you and I.” He went on, causing tears to build up in your eyes threatening to spill over. “If I was years younger or maybe you were older, we could work out.”

“If it’s truly over, then I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel absolutely nothing for me and that’s over.” You responded tears already falling, you wanted him to look you in the eyes and tell you because then maybe it’d be easier to move on.

Without missing a beat, he stood up from the bed keeping a fair amount of distance between you two before looking you in the eyes. “There is nothing more than friendship between you and I. There never will be, so this has to end.”

You let the tears flow freely and a sob escaped you before you went on to tell him that he needs to leave. He did as you said but made sure to tell you if you ever need him, he’s always there for you. You almost scoffed at his words given how hurt you were. The funny thing is, there were moments when you two had been together that truly felt like love and now you wondered if you had been delusional in thinking so.

After a three month hiatus, the last leg of the press tour was beginning. You hadn’t spoken to Hugh since that night. You preferred it that way, you buried yourself in your creative outlets to keep him off your mind, but unfortunately, he was always on your mind. A month and a half after your last conversation with him, it became news that he had released a book of poetry. It wasn’t until 3 weeks after it’s release, that you learned it contained romantic poetry which Hugh had denied being something he’d do. Curiosity eventually got the best of you and you read some of the romantic passages on various sites. It didn’t take long for you to realize that he was referencing moments from yours and his relationship in his poetry which made you break down that day. Feelings that you had buried, coming to the surface.

You decided to do what you do best. You wrote a song about it and fully intended to release it as quickly as you could. After you released the song, some celebrity gossip blogs put two and two together and speculated that you and Hugh had a “torrid” affair. You figured that the following verse of your song was what maybe gave it away.

“You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry

They’ve got red in their cheeks, 'cause we're something they can’t see

And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain

And all I do is cry and complain because no one will be the same

I'm sorry but I fell in love that

I didn't mean to fall in love

You're looking like you fell in love tonight

Could we pretend that we're in love?”

You felt bad that someone had somehow figured it out but you figured since it was in the early stages of a rumor, you could deny it completely for Hugh’s sake. You didn’t want his relationships with his kids jeopardized because of you. You knew deep in your heart that you loved him and always would. You had a comic con panel with Hugh and Ryan coming up in a few hours and you were going to address the rumors.

However, unbeknownst to you, after Hugh ended things with you, he was a wreck at first and ended up confronting everyone close to him about yours and his relationship. His kids didn’t approve at first, but upon seeing how genuine his emotions were when it came to you, they came around. They even helped him put a video together using your song with the hopes of winning you back.

When you all were sat in the panel room, nearing the end when you all were doing Q/A, someone had asked about the rumors regarding you and Hugh. You were about to speak when Hugh cut you off.

“You know, I think that now would be an excellent time to address those rumors and I would like to direct everyone's attention to the screen to get the perfect answer to that question.” He said, making you extremely confused as the lights dimmed and a video started playing.

As you watched the screen, you saw pictures of you and Hugh together throughout the last two and half years, with your song in the background. Nearing the end of the video, Hugh’s kids appeared on screen.

“Y/n, listen, our dad finally fessed up about you and him.” His son started.

“We were apprehensive at first, but we can see how much he cares about you.” His daughter continued.

“And we would like you both to be happy.” His son finished before in unison Hugh’s children said that you’d have their approval. Shortly after, the lights came back on and your eyes darted from the screen to Hugh, waiting for him to say something while there was hushed murmuring from the crowd.

“Y/n, I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you and I was so scared of what this meant that I pushed you away. I want to say that I love you and I hope that you still love me too.” He said.

“I love you too, Hugh.” You said before getting up from your seat and kissing him, causing Ryan to start clapping while the crowd followed, making you laugh.

You didn’t know what the future was going to hold, but you knew that as long as you had Hugh, you would be alright.

TAGLIST:

@enchantedbats

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman angst

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storytowrite · 16 hours

Text

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 1

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 732

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

"Faster!" You moaned as his member thrust deeper and deeper into you "…Yeah!” You dug your nails into his biceps, your back pressed against the cold tiles of the club bathroom. He held you tight against your thighs, his thumbs making gentle circles on your skin. Your bodies rubbed against each other rhythmically.

"Just a little more sunshine, hold on a little longer." He moaned into your ear. After a few more thrusts, you both ended up in spasms of pleasure. You rested your head against his chest, regulating your breathing. “You're pretty good, honey, you know?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

"Thanks." You only murmured and smiled slightly at him, "You're not that bad either."

The man laughed softly. He pulled away from you after a moment and helped you get dressed, then pulled on his ankle-length trousers and straightened his rumpled shirt. He wasn't the tallest man you had ever known, but he was certainly one of the most experienced. You didn't know his name, didn't need to. You knew you wouldn't see him again, after all so why care?

"I'll go first." The man said, breaking the momentary silence that fell between the two of you. "After all, it's the women's bathroom…”

"Mhm, sure," You replied, "That's…”

"See you later." The man said before you could finish, then left, leaving you alone in the club bathroom. You sighed softly and adjusted yourself in front of the mirror. It was quite good sex. You thought and with a smile on your lips left the bathroom. “Time to find the rest of the crew.” You muttered to yourself and went in search of your friends who had long been lost in the crowd of bodies, swaying to the music.

You didn't come alone to the club. No. It wouldn't have been prudent of you, though you weren't the most prudent person anyway. Your friend Jeno disappeared into the crowd, dancing with every woman he met. You sighed softly, going to clubs with Jeno always ended like this, in separation, each of you finding more interesting company to spend the evening than your own.

However, this time you did not come to the club with Jeno only. His older cousin Jungwoo decided to go with the two of you too. You liked Jungwoo even though you didn't interact much with each other. He wasn't in the city often because of his studies, but that was about to change as he got a scholarship to the same college where you studied. You were curious if he would actually transfer.

You stood between the dance floor and the bar and looked for your friend. Jeno had long since disappeared from your sight, with some brunette, so you hoped that maybe at least Jungwoo was somewhere nearby. You didn't want to spend the rest of the party on the couch against the wall. You were about to give up when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Y/N! you are here! Where have you gone? I couldn't find you anywhere. Oh my God! Is that a hickey?!” Jungwoo stood, as if on cue, right in front of you..

“Hi. Woo…” You said, slightly amused. “Yes, it's a hickey, let's say I had an interesting meeting in the bathroom.”

“Mhm, I think I already know what kind of an interesting meeting…” He said with the face of an expert.

“And you? Are you having fun?” You asked before he started peppering you with questions about the man you’d had passionate, albeit quick, sex with in the bathroom a moment earlier. Jungwoo smiled widely at you.

"I have the bartender's number." He said proudly. "You don't even know how hard it was for me to get it. But he looks gorgeous! Plus, I got free drinks, so I guess he liked me.”

"Hey, I want free drinks too!" You said with a little jealousy in your voice.

“Then pick up the bartender.” Jungwoo laughed and was about to offer you drinks, when Jeno approached the two of you, not quite in a good mood though. One of his eyes slowly turned purple. “Oh, what happened?” Asked his cousin.

“It turned out that the girl I went with was not alone in the club.” Murmured Jeno. “Her boyfriend decided to step in... let's go home, I have to put ice on myself.”

<- Series Masterlist | Part 2 ->

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randomfoggytiger · 17 hours

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I don't want to shame or be age-ist, but why did they bring in Mimi Rogers as Diana? She looks so much older than both Scully and Mulder. Was she hot and in the market in the 90s? I can see that her assertiveness and self-assuredness could be attractive, but she just didn't seem to "fit in". It's almost as if Mulder went for her because of mommy issues and looking for an older woman like Scully did with Daniel and her daddy issues.

I don't know anything about the actress. My issue is just with the casting and that she fit more in line with being an older character that came across, to me, more like a wicked step mother than a potential mate.

I don't think the question is ageist. :DDD It's a reality that she does look older than Mulder-- but that really works for canon.

Actually factually, they hired Mimi Rogers because DD acted with her before (The Rapture); and he likes to bring his friends forward into new projects. But her casting also enabled David and Mimi to take their characters' interactions in a slightly different direction than the script dictated.

I get you completely, Anon-- and I agree. That angle worked for me, however: it underlined Mulder's personal growth over the past five years (and showed how glaringly unimportant Diana had become.)

Diana Fowley: the Definition of Manipulative Comfort

(Credit to: @iddoitforfreebaabe)

In the script, CC wrote Diana as a knock-out who subtly wielded her sexual prowess to draw Mulder's attention away from "the truth" (and to make Scully jealous, ahem ahem.) There was a sneering, preening quality to her that isn't present with Mimi Rogers. And I like that change; because five years and a thriving partnership have changed Mulder as a person-- not completely, but enough. Sneering, preening superficiality would repel, not attract, the person he's become.

Moreover, Mulder is a man so haunted by his past that he sees his sister in every little girl-- or, to the point, he sees the love and security he lost in childhood in every feminine, devoted, almost nurturing brunette. (He's drawn to women who promise love, companionship, and ease up front, only to be duped by their intentions and strung along with breadcrumbs of affection later.) I don't think he's looking for other sisters or other mothers in his selection process; just that their standard of beauty has been normalized since childhood. Importantly, we see his own distinct sexual preferences separate from his traumas: Mulder is attracted to intelligent, outspoken women, be it Pheobe Green or Diana Fowley or Dana Scully (or Bambi Berenbaum, etc.) This trait doesn't define his on-screen interactions with Tena Mulder-- a very passive, emotional woman when around him-- nor distinguish Samantha in his memories. They weren't idiots, certainly; but that's not how he selectively remembers them.

Back to Diana.

THE NATURE OF DIANA AND MULDER'S PAST RELATIONSHIP

Diana Fowley is the perfect archetype of a person who latches onto potential-- for intelligence and companionship-- and stays until she decides to leave (cutting loose ends cleanly, and purposefully parting friends.) Relationships are for advantage, positive or negative.

We know this because of her reappearance: in The End, Diana expects to waltz back in and turn Mulder's affections back to herself with the snap of her fingers; in The Beginning, she chastises Mulder for doubting her dedication and loyalty to the files (read: him); and in One Son, she foists a kiss on Mulder when he is at his lowest point.

She's not a mother figure but a dangerous second thing: a prey animal who locates the wounded boy in the man and weaponizes that to her advantage-- hence, her full name (Diana meaning 'goddess of the hunt'; Fowley, a spin on the word fowler or snare.) (It's not until The Blessing Way that Mulder began to question his own mother's involvement in the conspiracy, posts here and here; which provides ample proof of the lengths his ex would have been able to twist him about without his suspicion.) Diana knows how to mask her control through silky "Fox, I know better; and you know I know better" language that skirts his animosity and detection. While Phoebe is cruel and callous and careless-- getting caught-out both times she and Mulder engaged in a relationship of sorts-- Diana is circumspect and calculating and careful. Diana exploits his weak spot-- self-punishment and a desperate need for love-- by disguising her attentions behind loving, near-maternal guidance and protection... something she would have known he lacked after Mulder unveiled his backstory. While Phoebe is reliant on relationships and adoration and praise to feel superior-- unable to face or accept rejection-- Diana doesn't rely on anyone or anything except herself (hence why CSM came to depend on her, too.)

DIANA, THE (PURPOSEFULLY) NOT-SO RAVISHING

All that logic and canonical consistency aside, the beauty in Mimi Rogers's casting is that she isn't a ravishing beauty to Mulder.

Mulder isn't head-over-heels for her like he was Phoebe Green or Bambi Berenbaum or (later) Scully. In the magazines and tapes that aren't his, in his dreams, in his Kill Switch illusion, Mulder fantasizes about larger-than-life sexuality: the Jersey Devil, Phoebe, Bambi, the blonde bimbo nurses, Jade Afterglow, Scully in sci-fi gear, etc. The exaggeration in their presentation captures his imagination and attention. (We see hints of Diana as a wanton, sexually deviant temptress here and there: namely in Mulder's vision of her in Amor Fati-- post here-- where he is not surprised to see her in aggressive, sexy lingerie-- but is surprised to hear she suddenly wants to settle down and have children, post here. And, again, "settling down" is framed as "It's time to grow up, Fox"-- another maternally slanted manipulation.) In casting Mimi, their dynamic changed from Phoebe-Green-enraptured to old-wound-manipulation.

Mulder himself wasn't gutted over their breakup-- telling Diana, without a shadow in his eyes pointing to past hurts or wounds or pain he'd overcome, "I've done okay without you." It was Diana who walked and Diana who returned; but it's Mulder who didn't ask her to stay either time. She was his partner: not in the "wildly understood definition of that term", but a literal partner who discovered the X-Files alongside him, who spent five years of her life with him, and who left-- without regrets, from either side-- for greener pastures. It had been a comfortable, not passionate, relationship. Afterwards, Mulder was content to burrow down in the basement, alone; and resented any intruder into his sanctum after she left.

And when Diana returns, he's stiff, tense; and takes a while to warm up to her presence. Yes, because of his past with her, yes because he hadn't informed Scully of said past; but mostly because he knows Diana is there for a reason. And, profiler that he is, Mulder suspects he's the reason. And he's right.

DIANA FOWLEY V. DANIEL WATERSTON

How does Mulder's draw to Diana differ from Scully's draw to Daniel?

Well, firstly, we have to discuss the similarities. Both Diana and Daniel are older partners, and both put down the instincts of their lovers (or would-be lovers, in Scully's case) to assert their own interests and end goals. ...The similarities largely end there.

The differences, however, point to the nuance of their situations.

Mulder isn't drawn to Diana because she was "his mother"-- he was attracted to her because his inner porch bug is drawn to the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel; and always coaxes him into the dangerous dark and straight towards the beam of a bug zapper. In this case, he got caught in the window screen, peering into the glow of a house but unable to advance towards or retreat from it. Diana and he had good times, comfortable times that they could remember fondly later; but their reminiscing consists of her helping on the files, not the years of their relationship beforehand. In essence, they have "the work"-- in whatever current form that was-- between them and nothing more (in contrast to his bond with Scully, which transcends Mulder's search for "the truth.")

Scully is drawn to Daniel because he is "other fathers"-- a man who not only understands her expertise and passion but rewards it with devotion and pride. While Diana left Mulder and was, apparently, perfectly content to be single as she carried out the Syndicate's aims (or because she left her options open to exploit CSM's interest), Daniel mourned and pined after his loss, letting his cracked marriage dissolve completely and abandoning his daughter to-- hopefully, maybe-- run into Scully someday. Diana and Mulder coasted five years-- another sign their relationship didn't healthily benefit either person-- before they decidedly separated. Daniel and Scully had a stormy (near) love affair, and split after the tempestuous blowout.

(By the way, Mulder and Scully, carry out those patterns with their ensuing relationships: Scully moving fast and strong with Jack and Jerse before they separate; and Mulder coasting on from case-to-couch, phone to his ear when he gets lonely at nights. Their partnership ultimately breaks each other's pattern, posts here, here, and here.)

Diana does fall in love with Mulder, though: by One Son, we see she truly has lingering feelings for her ex-- that take a backseat to her Consortium calling (and lack of characterization)-- and by Amor Fati, her affection has grown enough to manifest guilt, shame, and change-- that results in her death. However: the series portrays this as new emotional growth, not a symptom of their past relationship. Mulder doesn't expect that depth of feeling from her in The End nor The Beginning; nor even Two Fathers and One Son (hence his consternation with Scully's "jealous" suspicions, post here.) Again, "I've done okay without you" speaks volumes-- especially with the twinkle Mulder sports to show Diana that, for the first time in his life, he's found a spark: that his current "relationship" isn't comfortable or stagnant or in the past. (Which is why she reads between the lines and plans to break apart the partnership as deftly as possible.)

CONCLUSION

Hopefully these thoughts helped in some way or form. :DDDDD But what do you think, Anon?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: Here's the interview mentioned in the tags.

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