#listen I’m not even sure what this one means

[bisexualiteaa]

Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

[vicariousresearcher]

Neighbour!141 and how they get your attention.

Neighbour!Price who is constantly offering you help. Sees some furniture boxes at your door and is offering to put it together for you. No? Well surely you need some tools at least, make it all easier. No no he doesn’t mind truly. He doesn’t want you trying to fix everything up with just an allen key now does he?

Shovels your side walk, up to your door even. When you come to him the next day all apologetic and saying that you were just about to do it, seriously he didn’t need to. He just brushes you off saying that ‘birds don’t need to be out doin that.' It‘s okay, he was doing his anyway. 

Listening when you complain about your shitty landlord who has yet to do anything about your faulty water heater. You’re in those shorts he’s only seen through the window, arms crossed and rambling as he thumbs at the valves. 

“It’s a no go bird. You gotta buy a whole new heating element and get it put in dere. If you’re needin to, you can shower at my place till this gets figure’d out ya?”

Neighbour!Kyle who honestly you see more outside of your neighbourhood than in it. You have no clue how but you two always end up in the same place at the same time. 

Grocery shopping? Oh he's here too, it has the best deals on produce! Excursion? Oh he just wanted to see the new exhibit at the aquarium just like you, great minds think alike. Eating something in your favourite cafe during your lunch break? He slides in the seat across from you with a playful smile saying ‘how its nice to see you here neighbour’. 

You don’t even know he slipped a tracker in your purse during one of these bump ins.

That's how it starts. A friendship with a man you apparently have so much in common with. You have to with how much you see him at your favourite places. Even that niche little diner that you love as soon as you mention it he’s finishing off its name and talking about how their sweets are so good.

“What do you mean you haven’t had any? Want me to grab you some next time I go-actually no how about we just go together. I need to see what else you’ve been depriving yourself of. Come on, we’ll go in the evening when it’s nice and quiet so it’ll just be us.”

Neighbour!Johnny who sees the sweet thing living next door and knows he needs to get his hands on you. But he’s smarter than those pretty eyes and dumb grin would let you think. He wants you to come to him. He just needs to prove what a prize he is first. 

So he finds every chance possible to workout outside. 

Deliberately does his stretches for his morning run where you’ll be able to see while you make your coffee for the morning. Absolutely chuffed when he makes eye contact with you while he’s mid shirt pull. The way you go bug eyed when caught ogling has him ready wanting to ask if you liked the show.

Now, god forbid you have a dog. He’s making friends through the fence, coming up to your door offering to take the sweet thing on a walk if you want. Truly he would love to have a running buddy please let him take your pupper out. It becomes normal enough that you don’t even bat an eye when he’s offering to take your baby out when you’re not home. 

“I don’t mind taking my boy out once in a while. His mama’s busy but I’m not. Where’d you say you keep your outside key?”

Neighbour!Simon who quickly learns that he can’t offer to help you round because it comes off as….creepy. He’s the one you think is going to tag you with a tracker or follow you to work. The one that has you holding your keys between your fingers when pulling in at night.

So he takes a different approach. Needy, confused, and helpless. A military man entirely unacquainted with domestic duties.

He’s pathetic in a stuck racoon kind of way. You know you shouldn’t trust him but the way you’ve heard his smoke alarm go off 3 times in the time you’ve been here has you messaging if he wants some of your supper since you made too much. You catch yourself adding far more while cooking just so you have something to drop off to his doorstep. 

You don’t even know how it happened but now you’re in his kitchen teaching him how to make some easy meals with your chicken marinade recipes. Something he won’t burn or over salt. He’s got you rambling away, so blissfully unaware. Safe in his home, so trusting of him now.. He’s made so much improvements with you, no more scurrying away the minute he’s a couple feet away. 

“‘m sorry for needin so much from ya. If there's anything I can do just message me ya? Don’t matter what time, I’ll come. Anything you need.”

[cuntphoric]

"you're being too rough," gojo says as geto holds you down against the bed, ass up and face buried into the pillows. he's holding you in place by the waist and has his hips pressed flush to your backside, cock buried inside you to the hilt. "i think she can take it, you know," geto murmurs as he brings a hand to the nape of gojo's neck, rubbing gently as his fingers card through his hair. "come on. don't hold back."

you don't know why geto is encouraging him. geto doesn't even like watching other guys touch you but gojo's different.

"yeah," gojo murmurs. his voice is soft, almost a whisper, and you can feel the heat emanating from him, making you sweat. "i just.. don't wanna hurt her."

"i'll be fine," you say, and your voice comes out weak, breathless. "pleaaaaseee, toru."

"she wants it, satoru," geto urges. "give it to her."

"but–"

"satoru." geto's voice is firmer now, but still sounds smooth and sticky like honey. he pulls his hand away from his nape and places it against his shoulder, squeezing. "fuck her."

you can see his eyes flash in lust and genuine obedience as he listens to geto.

he's moving now, his hips slamming into yours. you're unable to hold in the moan that's pushed out your throat, your nails digging into the pillows beneath you, and you're not sure how long gojo goes on like that. he's brutal, and his grip on your waist is bruising. you're crying out with each thrust, and it's a miracle you haven't blacked out yet.

you’re not sure how long it’s been - minutes? hours? - all you know is your body feels wrecked and hot, every nerve on fire, and gojo still isn’t giving up. is this what happens when he listens to geto??? his pace is relentless now, the hesitation long gone. you’re barely holding on, your fingers gripping the pillows so hard your knuckles are turning white.

“you’re making her cry, satoru,” geto murmurs, his hands wrapped around on his long cock, pumping his head.

“shut up,” gojo huffs, though his voice slightly cracks in the middle. “i’m just- fuck- she’s just so tight.”

geto chuckles, low and almost mean. one of his hands moves again, settling on your lower back, pressing you deeper into the mattress. “don’t give up now,” he says, his tone softer, so unlike the voice he had when he was telling gojo to fuck you rough. “you’ve got her right where you want her.”

gojo huffs and you can feel the bruising force of his grip on your hips as he slams into you even harder, each thrust punching the air from your lungs. your moans turn into something wrecked and broken, muffled by the pillows beneath you. what a sight to see.

“you’re a mess,” geto says, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or gojo. he wanted to add a degrading comment about you taking gojo's cock so well as if it was made for him. but then his fingers are back, brushing against where gojo’s cock is splitting you open, his touch light, teasing, but it’s enough to have you crying out, your whole body arching.

“s-suguru, what the fuck?” gojo stammers, though he doesn’t stop.

“just helping,” geto says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “relax, satoru. you’re doing fine. she loves it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

you can’t answer - not coherently, anyway. all that comes out is a desperate whine, your body trembling as that coil of heat deep inside you winds tighter and tighter.

“see?” geto’s voice drops lower, and you can feel his breath against your ear. “you’re gonna make her cum, satoru. don’t stop now.”

and he doesn’t. if anything, gojo picks up the pace, his thrusts are brutal but so addicting. you’re caught between the two of them.

but when you finally snap, it’s like your eyes goes white, your cries muffled as your body shatters beneath him and just cum oozing out.

[wonderjanga]

I May be a Kid but I’m not a Kid Kid.

When Billy’s secret identity was revealed, he started getting treated like a little kid. It really annoys him whenever these guys try to baby him.

Supes: “Billy, uhm… we were wondering if you would like to be moved to the Teen Titans.”

Marvel: “What…?” *sounds absolutely horrified at the thought of that* “Why?”

Supes: “You’d around kids your age.”

Marvel: *stares and blinks rapidly* “Are you saying you’re gonna demote me to the Teen Titans of all things? No offense.”

Supes: “Billy, it’s not a demotion.”

Marvel: “But it is. I’ve been on this team for what? Four years- almost five. You guys are acting like my age automatically means I can’t be a good hero anymore.”

Supes: “We’re not saying that. We just think it’d be good if you were on a team of heroes around your age.”

Marvel: “But you are. You’re literally all but saying it. I like those kids but not enough to want to be on a team with them.” *doesn’t know if he’d like listening to Robin’s condescension in more than small doses* “I prefer you guys. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Supes: “Of course!” *happy Billy is still somewhat comfortable around them*

Marvel: “Good.” *smiles* “Besides, I do hang out with kids around my age. Mary and I are the same age while Junior’s a year older than us.”

Supes: “He’s the oldest?”

This conversation got them to back off about kicking him off the team. That didn’t stop them from poking their stupid adult noses into other parts of Billy’s heroics though.

Marvel: *helping someone at like 2am because he patrols as much as he can*

Supes: “Captain! Whatcha doing up this late, champ?”

Marvel: *makes a face that being called champ, but doesn’t say anything about it* “Uh… patrolling? *finishes helping the person*

Supes: “Patrolling? It’s a little late- er early for that. Isn’t it?”

Marvel: “I guess…? I still have a couple more hours.”

Supes: “Shouldn’t you be turning in earlier?”

Marvel: “No…?”

Supes: “Aren’t you tired though? Kids need plenty of sleep.”

Marvel: *a little irked at being called a kid but brushes it off* “Stamina of Atlas, remember?”

Supes: “Oh.” *silence* “Well, maybe you could still turn in earlier?”

Marvel: *looks around for any hidden cameras* “No.”

Supes: “Oh okay…” *doesn’t really want to seem controlling so he just sulks while flying back to Metropolis*

Don’t worry, Superman trying to give him a curfew isn’t the only thing a nosy adult tried to do.

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir? Are the new long term mission signs up sheets out yet?”

Batman: “Ah, yes.” *hands him the sign up tablet* “There are three new ones.”

Marvel: “Great! Any potential overlaps?”

Batman: “Only these two.” *points to two missions*

Marvel: “How long would these two last?” *points to one of the overlapping missions and the one that doesn’t overlap*

Batman: “Together would be about a month and a half or longer.”

Marvel: “Cool.” *is about to sign up for them*

Batman: *remembers school exists* “And school?”

Marvel: *pauses so he can look at Bruce confused* “What about it?”

Batman: “If you sign up for these, you’ll miss at least a month or two. You’d be stuck catching up.”

Marvel: *laughs* “You say that if I actually go to school.”

Batman: “You don’t?”

Marvel: “No.”

Batman: “I see.” *takes the tablet away before Billy can sign* “Well, you’ll go now then.”

Marvel: *thinks he’s joking* “What?”

Batman: “I’ll enroll you in a school in Fawcett.”

Marvel: *stares for a solid minute* “Mr. Batman Sir, you’re not sending me to school.”

Batman: “Yes, I am. William-”

Marvel: “Don’t call me that.”

Batman: *sighs* “Billy, education is important. You shouldn’t put it off for heroics. Even Robin goes to school.”

Marvel: “Okay? I’m not a Robin though. And that only works because you guys patrol at night. If I go to school I’ll miss my day-patrol.”

Batman: “I’m sure there are plenty of other heroes in Fawcett who patrol during the day. Why not leave it to one of them?”

Marvel: “Because I don’t want to. I like saving people. The more heroes who are out in Fawcett, the less likely somebody might get glossed over and hurt because a hero wasn’t there in time to save them. I don’t wanna be the person that failed them just because I was busy with school or because I went to bed early… I say that last part because no matter what Supes thinks, he’s not subtle about wanting me to have a darn curfew.”

Batman: *stares in silence because he now feels a little bad and also empathizes with that “what if I’m not there mentality*

Marvel: *thinks that silence is Bruce still not understanding him* “Look, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say, imagine if someone came into Gotham and tried pushing you out of the superhero business just because they thought you unfit to be hero. That’s how I feel in this situation. I don’t tell you guys how to your jobs, so why are you trying to tell me?” *reaches over to grab the tablet a sign up for the two missions he wanted to take*

Yeah… Batman started treating him normally after that. Supes also did because his superhearing caught the convo.

Then, there’s his relationship with Flash and GL. They’d taken to treating him like a little kid or nephew even though Billy doesn’t want that.

Marvel: “Could you guys uh- stop treating me like a kid?” *sounds disappointed them*

Flash: *somehow still feels dread at the disappointment even though, NO, this guy is younger than him, why does Barry still feel like he disappointed his dad?* “You are a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t used to do this before.”

GL: *also dislikes that he’s bothered by the Dad Disappointment™️ radiating off of Marvel* “That was before we knew you were a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well I don’t care. I don’t need you to act like this. I don’t want you to act like this. I want friends, not chaperones or parental figures or anything stupid like that. I don’t like that you’re treating me differently now.” *sounds bitter* “You guys seem to forget that I’ve been doing this since before most of you were even, excuse my language, sperm cells. And sure, there was suspendium, but I fought Nazis, commies, and my own villains on top of that, all without being treated like a defenseless little kid and I ended up just fine. So I don’t need any of you acting like I’m a stupid little baby.”

That shut them up. It didn’t make any of the relationships between Billy and them go back to normal though. Not completely anyways. At least it was somewhat better though.

By the way, Billy, throughout all of this, just sounds bitter about being treated like this. He misses his friends guys :(.

[yelenasdiary]

soft fluffy nat where the two of you are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. nat is superrrr into the holidays like it surprises everyone but she’s proud of it. she knows you haven’t had the best christmas previous years and she’s determined to make this the best one for you. she loves everything like baking (nat cannot cook that is canon but i honestly think she could bake lowkey😭) putting up the christmas tree in the compound and decorating it. she’s just super soft around christmas and you just fall even more in love with her. you share sweet moments together throughout the days leading up to christmas and eventually the two of you confess and ugh i love soft nat i miss her

Waiting Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha have been struggling to admit your feelings for one another.

Fluff, Tiny Angst

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know! | 1.2K

AC: Happy Christmas Eve!!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was that time of year again, Christmas. The time of year where you felt more of a burden than a blessing, but this year felt different already. The compound had turned from its usual dark grey vibe to bursts of festive spirit and colors. As you walked the hall towards the large meeting room, your eyes took in how perfectly the decorations were hung, compliments to Wanda, so you thought.

“Hey!” Natasha called out, making you stop in your tracks as you turned to face her. She smiled softly at you, “on your way to the meeting?” She asked. 

“Hopefully the last one for the year!” You chuckled as the two of you slowly began to continue the walk to the others. “What do you say we put the Christmas tree up afterwards?” Black Widow asked, making you cock a brow at her. 

“You want to put the tree up?” You asked, intrigued. 

“Of course, I mean, I already decorated half the compound over night” she replied proudly. 

“Wait, you did all this?” You stopped in your tracks once more, surprised by Natasha’s hidden love for the Christmas season. Natasha chuckled, “who do you think did all this?” 

“Wanda” you replied without a second thought. 

“Wanda is Jewish” the red head reminded you. 

“Yeah but she’s always making sure we’re together for Christmas dinner so I just assumed. You love Christmas? That’s kinda cute” you smiled softly. Natasha’s eyes dropped nervously as her iconic smirk tugged at her lips, “so I’ll take that as a yes?” She said, looking back up at you. 

“Alright, but I’m warning you, my tree decorating skills are horrible” you replied.

“I’ll take my chances” Nat playfully winked as the two of you entered the conference room.

It was hard to focus on anything Fury was saying during the meeting with your mind so focused on Natasha and the way her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in front of her, she was always good at putting life aside for work. Outside this room, she was a softy with a love for Christmas but inside the room she was Black Widow, listening to every single word that was said in the meeting with clear understanding. 

Once Fury added his last words, the room was dismissed. Nat looked over at you and smiled softly, “ready to put those horrible tree decorating skills to the test?” She teased making you chuckle lightly. 

“Are you ready for them?” You asked. 

“Like I said, I’ll take my chances, lets go!” 

----

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s enthusiasm; it was infectious as you watched her wrap the LED fairy lights around the fake tree while she hummed her favorite Christmas classic softly to herself. With the others hovering around, picking at the baked goodies Nat had baked last night while watching the tough Black Widow decorate a Christmas tree, you couldn’t help but fall deeper for her.

The room echoed with chatter from those around you, but all you could focus on was Natasha. She caught your eye and for a moment, the noise faded. “Now that the lights are on, help yourself to that box of ornaments and get decorating!” She smiled softly. Her soft tone snapping you back to reality as you gave her a playful grin. 

“I hope you’re ready for this Romanoff!” You teased, reaching for some of the ornaments in the box beside you. She shot back a smile, “are you sure you know where they go?” She asked in a teasing tone. 

“Ha, ha!” You replied sarcastically as you closed the small gap between you and the tree. Natasha stood back for a brief moment to watch you place the first ornament on the tree, she admired the way you took a second to think about where you wanted each ornament to be placed, hanging them on different branches before giving yourself a nod of approval. 

The two of you spent the afternoon hanging ornaments on the large tree and wrapping it in shimmering tinsel that sparkled softly against the fairy lights. Nat still softly hummed her favorite Christmas tunes, and you weren’t sure how long it was until they caught you in their trap. The two of you humming softly while twirling around each other. 

The days leading up to Christmas slipped by in a blur of laughter and sweet moments, each day your feelings growing stronger for the avenger, as if they could get any stronger. From Natasha sweet talking you into baking with her to helping her wrap presents for the others. Every moment felt more magical than the last. 

On Christmas Eve, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching holiday movies with the room dimly lit and the tree twinkling softly in the corner. Natasha looked at you for a moment and for that moment, time stood still. 

“Everything okay?” You asked, your cheeks feeling warm. 

“Yeah” she smiled softly, “everything is perfect” she added.

----

Christmas morning, you woke up to the sound of laughter echoing through the compound. You couldn’t believe you had slightly slept in, you rushed down the stairs where you found Natasha already locking eyes with you. She smiled softly, “good morning sleepy head” she greeted. 

“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, almost forgetting there were others in the room. 

“Come here” she replied softly, her eyes sparkling from the tree beside her. 

You stepped closer, your heart racing as you realized what was hanging above the redhead. Your cheeks flushed under her glaze as you closed the gap between you two. “I’ve been waiting for this” she said, her voice soft like marshmallows. “I want to tell you something” she paused, her expression shifting ever so slightly. 

“These last few weeks have made me the happiest I’ve ever been in a long time and it’s because I got to spend every moment with you” she started, smiling softly. “You make me so happy, I love everything we have shared since we met. I’ve been too afraid to say anything to you because I’d hate myself if I ruined what we already have but, I’m so deeply in love with you that not telling you was driving me crazy. Last night, I wanted to kiss you and tell you but I didn’t want to ruin the moment” she added. 

The room fell silent, time standing still as you processed her words. You pinched yourself wondering if you were still asleep, dreaming of a different life but the pain was very much real and the woman you adored was standing in front of you, under a mistletoe, telling you how she felt. 

“I love you too” you finally said, your voice slightly breaking with emotions, “I’ve wanted to say that for so long” you added. 

A smile broke on Nat’s face, her hands gently placed on your hips as she pulled you closer. “Merry Christmas” she whispered before her lips pressed against yours, making sure you knew that she meant every single word. Kissing you deeply, the two of you not caring that half the compound just watched everything unfold. 

“Best Christmas ever” you whispered against her lips, her arms wrapped around you. She smiled softly, “agreed”.

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @x-natsarrownecklace-x | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | @koinsss | @cigarsandscotchallday | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | @marvelnatasha12346 | @mrromanoff | @starryskiesandboys | @ddreader04 | @ahintofchaos | @bleachxbunny | @acciowriting | @hyper-fixated-delusions | 

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[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 14✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Language, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 5682

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

As Dean walked toward the kitchen, his bag slung over his shoulder, he found Sam leaning against the counter, sipping from a mug. Cas and Jack were already in the garage, waiting, but Sam hadn’t moved yet. When Sam spotted Dean, he raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about how your conversation—or what he assumed was a conversation—had gone.

“So", Sam asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity, “how’d she take it?”.

Dean’s expression shifted for a second, his usual cocky smirk slipping into place. He couldn’t help but think back to the moments you had just shared in your room, the intimacy between you, and how you had responded to him. His thoughts briefly wandered to how well you'd "taken it", and he almost chuckled at the double meaning that flashed in his mind.

"She… took it… well", Dean replied, smirking a little as he slung his bag onto the floor, leaning against the counter across from Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow, noticing the smirk but not quite catching the full implication. "Really? So, no more arguments about the hunt?".

Dean shook his head, still grinning. "Nah, she's good. We worked it out". His tone remained casual, but his mind couldn’t help replaying what had happened between you two. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to stay focused.

Sam gave Dean a knowing look, clearly suspecting there was more going on but not pressing the issue. "Good. I was worried you were gonna keep pushing her away".

Dean exhaled, his smirk softening as he grew more serious. "Yeah, I know. I can't keep treating her like she's fragile. She’s stronger than I give her credit for". He glanced at his brother, and there was a silent understanding between them.

"Glad you finally get that", Sam said with a small smile. "She’s part of the team".

Dean nodded. "Yeah, she is". But even as he said it, his mind still flickered back to the moments in your room. He knew you were more than just a teammate now, but that was a conversation for another time.

"Let’s get going", Dean said, pushing off from the counter and heading toward the garage. "Don’t want Cas and Jack thinking we’re dragging our feet".

Sam followed, and though the conversation had turned back to the hunt, Dean’s thoughts remained on you—on how this hunt was just the start of whatever was coming next for both of you.

A few minutes later, you found yourself in the backseat of the Impala, sandwiched between Cas and Jack. Dean and Sam were up front, with Dean driving, and you could see him glancing in the rearview mirror every so often, checking on you. Each time he looked, a little smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though he tried to hide it.

Jack, sitting to your right, was enthusiastically explaining the different cat breeds to you, his eyes wide with excitement as he described the characteristics of each one. "And did you know that Maine Coons are one of the largest domesticated cats? They can weigh up to 18 pounds!", Jack said, his voice filled with awe as he launched into more fun facts.

Dean, overhearing Jack's passionate explanation, couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped him. His eyes flicked back to you, amusement clear on his face. "Jack, I’m not sure she signed up for a full lesson on cat breeds", he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You smiled, half-listening to Jack’s enthusiastic commentary while feeling the steady presence of Cas on your left. Cas, for his part, seemed content to sit quietly, though he nodded along now and then as if he, too, was learning about cats for the first time.

"It's okay", you said with a grin, glancing at Dean through the rearview mirror. "I like learning new things". Your response made Dean’s smirk widen, and he shook his head slightly, his eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement.

Jack beamed at your response, continuing to explain more about cats. “And Siamese cats are really vocal. They’ll follow you around the house, meowing and making all kinds of sounds”.

Dean chuckled again, giving a playful roll of his eyes as he focused back on the road. "Well, I guess Jack’s got the backseat entertainment covered".

Sam, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced back with a small smile. "It's good to know Jack's well-versed in cat trivia. Could come in handy on a hunt, right?".

"Hey, you never know", Dean added, smirking. "Maybe we’ll run into some supernatural feline, and Jack’ll save the day".

Dean had done the impossible—driving the entire way without stopping for the night. The hours had passed with a mix of conversation, laughter, and the occasional silence as the weight of the upcoming hunt settled in. But now, as the Impala pulled into the parking lot of a small, rundown motel in the town where everything had been going crazy, you felt a deep sense of relief wash over you.

As soon as the car came to a stop, you exhaled a long breath, feeling the tension leave your body. You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles tight from sitting in the backseat for so long. Your feet touched solid ground for the first time in hours, and the stretch felt heavenly. You could hear a few satisfying pops in your back as you twisted your torso, working out the stiffness.

“Finally”, you muttered, glancing around the small, dimly lit parking lot. The air was cooler than it had been during the drive, and you inhaled deeply, letting the coolness wake you up.

Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat, stretching his arms above his head with a loud groan. “Man, I love driving, but that was a long haul”, he said, rolling his shoulders. He glanced over at you, a teasing grin on his face. “How you holding up?”.

“Better now that we’re not stuck in that backseat”, you replied, shooting him a playful glare as you reached back to grab your bag from the Impala.

Sam stretched too as he stepped out of the Impala, rolling his shoulders and looking toward the dimly lit motel office. “I’ll go get us checked in”, he said, already heading toward the entrance. “You guys hang tight for a minute.” His tone was all business, but there was a hint of relief on his face too. The long drive had worn on everyone.

As Sam disappeared into the office, Dean gave you a knowing look, his smirk still playing on his lips. “Guess that means we’ve got a few minutes to ourselves”. He grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk, slinging it over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “A few minutes to stretch, maybe. I can still feel that backseat”.

Dean chuckled. “Hey, could’ve been worse. At least Jack kept things… educational with his cat trivia”.

Speaking of Jack, he and Cas were standing a few feet away. Jack looked curiously around the parking lot, as if every detail of this run-down place fascinated him. Cas stood stoically beside him, his usual expression unreadable, though there was a certain calmness about him.

Jack glanced over at you with a bright smile. “So, what’s the plan after we rest? Do we jump right into the hunt, or gather more information first?”.

Dean shrugged, glancing over his shoulder toward the office, waiting for Sam. “We’ll see what intel Sam’s got lined up. But yeah, we’ll probably get moving fast. This town’s got a lot going on”.

You shivered slightly at the mention of the hunt, but it wasn’t from fear—it was anticipation. There was something exciting about that work, even with the danger that came with it. Still, the motel’s worn-down exterior didn’t exactly inspire comfort. You hoped the beds inside were at least half decent after the long drive.

A few moments later, Sam reappeared from the office, holding two keycards. “Alright, we’re set”, he said, handing one card to Dean. “Two rooms. Cas, Jack, you’re with me”.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the rush of excitement that fluttered in your chest when Sam handed Dean the key. The knowledge that you and Dean would have a room to yourselves for the night sent your mind racing, especially after everything that had happened between you two lately. Dean caught the shift in your expression, his green eyes glinting with amusement as if he could read your thoughts.

“Something on your mind?”, Dean teased, raising an eyebrow as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder.

You quickly composed yourself, rolling your eyes playfully to deflect the heat rising to your cheeks. “Just hoping the bed’s not as lumpy as this parking lot looks”, you retorted, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your true thoughts.

Dean chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough”, he said with a wink before turning to lead the way toward your room.

Cas and Jack nodded their goodnights as they followed Sam toward their room, Jack still peppering Cas with questions about the town and the hunt. You trailed behind Dean, your thoughts bouncing between the anticipation of the hunt tomorrow and the more immediate prospect of having some time alone with him tonight.

Dean unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was simple—typical motel fare with an old, faded bedspread, a small TV mounted on the wall, and a worn-out chair in the corner. But it was clean enough, and the bed, while not luxurious, looked inviting after hours spent in the Impala.

Dean dropped his bag by the door and surveyed the room with a satisfied nod. “Not bad”, he said. “Could be worse. At least it doesn’t smell like old socks”.

You let out a small laugh, tossing your own bag onto the chair.

Dean stretched his arms over his head again, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he let out a groan of relief. His eyes caught yours, and the playful smirk returned to his lips. “So… you still worried about that bed, or you think it’ll do?”.

You shot him a teasing glance, walking past him toward the bed. “Guess we’ll see”, you said, sitting down and testing the mattress with a bounce. “Not bad,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestion as you met his gaze again.

Dean’s smirk widened as he stepped closer. “Good to know”, he muttered, his voice dropping slightly.

As he approached, you felt your heartbeat quicken, the energy between you two unmistakable. You and Dean had been dancing around this tension for what felt like forever, and now, with no distractions or interruptions, the air was charged with possibility.

Dean stopped just in front of you, his fingers brushing your knee lightly, the contact sending a spark through you. His voice was soft, teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You good?”, he asked, his eyes searching yours for a moment of reassurance.

You nodded, biting your lip again, this time unable to hide the smile that crept onto your face. “Yeah”, you whispered, your voice breathy with anticipation. “I’m good”.

Dean grinned and, without breaking eye contact, leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Eventually, Dean pulled back from the kiss, the warmth of his lips leaving you longing for more. You could feel the charge between you, but instead of deepening the moment, he exhaled and let himself sink down beside you on the bed. He stretched out, his hand running over his face as he let out a tired groan. You watched him in silence for a moment, feeling a flicker of disappointment.

He hadn’t even undressed, still fully in his jeans and boots, and you knew why. Dean was always on edge during hunts, constantly prepared for whatever might come his way. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not even for a night in a safe motel room.

You sat there for a moment, glancing at him, a slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. He must have sensed your gaze because, without moving much, he cracked one eye open and smirked.

“Sweetheart”, Dean muttered, his voice soft and amused but laced with exhaustion. “I just drove about 11 hours straight to get us to this shithole. My back hurts, and I’m tired as hell. I’m not twenty anymore”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, knowing he was right. His words were playful, but you could see the fatigue etched into his features. The trip had worn him down, and as much as he’d probably like to indulge you, he just didn’t have it in him tonight.

“Yeah, yeah”, you said, teasing but with a fond smile. “I guess you’re not as invincible as you think”.

Dean’s smirk widened just a bit, and he closed his eyes again, relaxing into the mattress. “Never said I was”, he mumbled. “But trust me, there’ll be time for… other things later”.

His promise hung in the air, and despite the weariness in his voice, it sent a shiver down your spine. You smiled to yourself, the tension easing as you lay back beside him. Even if tonight wasn’t what you had hoped, there was still a sense of comfort in just being near him.

Dean shifted slightly, draping his arm lazily over your waist, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. "Get some rest, okay? Tomorrow's gonna be a hell of a day", he murmured, his voice already fading as sleep started to claim him.

You nodded, settling more into the bed beside him. You lay there for a while, listening to Dean’s breathing grow steady and slow as he drifted off to sleep. The room was quiet, save for the occasional hum of cars passing by outside and the rustle of fabric as you adjusted under the covers. The soft weight of Dean’s arm around your waist grounded you, a reminder of the closeness you shared, even in the stillness of the moment.

Despite the long drive, your mind was still buzzing, replaying the events of the past few days. Between the tension of the hunt and the growing connection between you and Dean, it was hard to quiet your thoughts. You glanced over at him, his face now relaxed and peaceful in sleep. The hard lines of his worry had softened, and for a moment, he looked younger—like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, if only for a few hours.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of warmth and security just being beside him. Even though he was tired, his presence was always steady.

Eventually, the weariness from the long drive began to settle into your bones, and you let out a quiet sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, careful not to wake Dean, and closed your eyes.

The night passed in a blur of soft dreams and the comforting heat of Dean’s body next to yours. When you woke up, the faint light of dawn was just starting to creep through the thin curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room.

Dean was still asleep, his arm still resting around you, though a bit looser now. You stayed still for a moment, not wanting to disturb him, but eventually, the call of the day ahead began to pull you from the comfort of the bed.

Carefully, you slipped out from under Dean’s arm, his body shifting slightly but not waking. You grabbed some clothes from your bag and quietly headed toward the bathroom to freshen up. The cool water on your face helped clear the last remnants of sleep, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt a sense of resolve wash over you. The hunt ahead would be tough.

When you stepped back into the room, Dean was awake, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. He gave you a groggy smile, his voice still thick with sleep as he muttered, “Mornin’, sunshine”.

You chuckled softly, walking over to the bed. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”.

Dean stretched, wincing slightly as his back cracked. “Like a rock. But man, I’m getting too old for these all-nighters”, he joked, though there was truth behind his words.

Dean’s smile faltered ever so slightly as he took in your appearance, his eyes tracing your features with a tenderness he rarely showed so openly. Your skin was glowing in the soft morning light, flawless and fresh without the need for makeup. Your hair, long and healthy, framed your face perfectly, and your lips, still slightly curved in a smile, were full and rosy. Even your voice, clear and steady so early in the morning, held a vibrancy that made you seem effortlessly full of life.

You didn’t even need coffee to function at this hour, the energy still buzzing inside. It was a quiet contrast to his own grogginess and the dull ache in his back that reminded him he´s getting old.

He could feel the shift in his mood, the weight of the years between you suddenly pressing on him.

The aches in his body that never quite went away, the lines etched into his face from years of battles fought and lost, and the exhaustion that came with a life lived in the shadows—they were all things he had learned to live with. But now, as he looked at you, glowing with energy and youth, that weight felt heavier than usual.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you saw in him. What could a woman like you—so full of life, with a future ahead of you—possibly want with someone like him, who’d already seen and lived more than most should in a lifetime? He wanted to push those thoughts away, but they gnawed at him, making his chest feel tight.

Dean’s smile faded slightly, though he tried to keep up the usual bravado. He leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes, usually so full of mischief and confidence, were clouded with something else now—doubt, insecurity.

You, however, could sense something was off. Dean, always the one to hide his emotions behind jokes and smiles, wasn’t fooling you this time. The silence between you lingered just a little too long, and when you glanced at him again, you noticed the faraway look in his eyes.

“Dean?”, you asked softly, moving a little closer to him on the bed. “What’s going on?”.

Dean glanced at you, startled out of his thoughts, but he quickly masked it with a small, forced grin. “Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin’”, he muttered, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “Come on, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”.

For a moment, he was quiet, as if weighing whether or not to share what was really on his mind. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke, his voice softer than usual, lacking its usual bravado.

“It’s just… look at you”, he said, his eyes searching yours. “You’re young, full of energy. You wake up like the world hasn’t knocked you down a dozen times. And me? I’m… I’m just tired. I feel like I’ve been through the wringer more times than I can count, and I’m starting to wonder what the hell you see in that”.

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way Dean rarely allowed himself to be. He looked away again, not wanting to meet your eyes, as if expecting you to suddenly realize he was right.

Your heart clenched at hearing the doubt in his voice. You had always known Dean was hard on himself, that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but hearing him express this kind of insecurity—especially about something as fundamental as your relationship—was new. And it hurt to think he didn’t see what you saw in him.

Without saying a word, you moved with a quiet determination. Gently, you pushed the blanket away from him and shifted to straddle his lap. Dean blinked, surprised by your sudden movement, but he didn’t protest. His hands instinctively rested on your hips as you settled onto him, but there was a hesitance in his touch, the vulnerability from his earlier words still lingering in the air.

You cupped his face in both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. His green eyes, usually so confident and steady, were searching yours for answers, for reassurance. You could see the doubt, the years of wear and tear etched into his soul, weighing him down more than any physical scars ever could.

For a moment, you didn’t speak. You simply held his face, your thumbs gently brushing along his stubbled jawline, grounding him in the present, in this moment. His hands tightened slightly on your hips, as if the warmth of your touch was the only thing anchoring him.

“Dean”, you whispered, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?”.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. He wasn’t used to hearing this—wasn’t used to being the one who was taken care of, who was reassured. He’d spent so long being the protector, the one holding everything together, that he didn’t know how to let someone else carry the weight for him, even for a moment.

“You’re not just tired”, you continued, leaning in closer so that your foreheads were nearly touching. “You’ve been carrying the world on your shoulders for so long, and I know that. I see it. But you’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to do it all by yourself”.

Dean’s breath hitched, his eyes closing for a brief second as if your words were too much, too heavy for him to bear. He’d never been good at letting people in, at accepting help or love without feeling like it was temporary, like it could slip away at any moment.

“I’m here because I want to be”, you said, your voice steady and sure. “Not because I’m young or full of energy or any of that. I’m here because of who you are, Dean. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. You’re strong, you’re caring, and you make me feel safe in a way no one else ever has. That’s what I see in you”.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

You held Dean’s face firmly between your hands, your voice soft but steady as you continued. “You are the most selfless and loving human being I’ve ever met, Dean. You’ve spent your entire life putting everyone else first, making sure the people you care about are safe—even when it meant sacrificing your own happiness, your own peace”.

His gaze remained locked on yours, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes now, a rawness that made your heart ache. He wasn’t used to hearing this. He wasn’t used to being seen in this light. For so long, Dean had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, pushing his own needs aside for the sake of others. And now, it was clear he wasn’t sure how to accept the love and reassurance you were offering him.

You leaned in closer, pressing your forehead to his, your breaths mingling as you spoke softly. “You’re too hard on yourself, Dean. You always have been. You see the mistakes, the things you think you’ve done wrong, and you let them weigh you down. But that’s not what defines you”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and you could see the battle going on inside him—the part of him that wanted to believe you, to let go of the self-doubt, and the part that had been conditioned to think he wasn’t enough.

“You’re more than the things you’ve done”, you whispered, your thumbs brushing along his jawline again, grounding him in the moment. “You’ve saved so many people, Dean. You’ve saved me. And you do it because you care. Because you love”.

His breath hitched again, and his eyes glistened slightly as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Dean Winchester didn’t cry—he kept it all inside, locked up tight, where no one could see. But here, in this moment, you saw him. The real him. The man who had been through hell and back, but who still had so much love to give.

You took a deep breath, your thumbs still gently tracing the stubble along Dean’s jawline as you spoke again, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “Dean, I need you to stop focusing on that stupid age difference. That’s not what matters—not to me, not to anyone who knows you. There’s so much more that connects us, so much more between us that goes beyond something as simple as numbers”.

He swallowed hard, the vulnerability still palpable, but there was something else too—an understanding, a slow acceptance that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“I know it’s hard”, you continued, your forehead still pressed lightly against his. “I know you’ve carried these doubts for a long time. But you’ve got to let them go. You’re not just some older guy, and I’m not just some young woman with her life ahead of her. We’re more than that. We’re more because we understand each other in a way most people never will”.

Dean closed his eyes briefly, his chest rising and falling with a heavy breath. He had never been one to easily let go of his doubts, of the fears that lingered deep inside him. But here, in this moment, with you sitting on his lap, your hands cupping his face and your words cutting through his defenses, he felt something shift.

“You make me feel… things I didn’t think I could feel anymore”, he admitted, his voice low and rough, as if the words were coming from a place deep inside him that he had long buried. “And that scares the hell outta me. Because you deserve… someone who can keep up with you".

“Dean, you are enough. Stop thinking like that. You don’t have to keep up with me—I’m not asking you to. We’re in this together, and I need you to see that. You’re exactly who I want, all of you”.

Years of self-doubt and carrying the weight of others had built walls around his heart, walls that were hard to tear down. He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t worthy of real happiness, of love, that it seemed almost impossible for him to truly accept it now.

“You don’t get it”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve screwed up so many times, made so many mistakes. I’m not the guy who’s supposed to get the happy ending”.

You shook your head, refusing to let him retreat into those old doubts. “Everyone makes mistakes, Dean. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to go through, but that doesn’t define you. What defines you is how you keep fighting, how you keep protecting the people you love, no matter what. You’ve done that for everyone—especially for me”.

Dean swallowed hard, his grip on your hips tightening as if he was trying to hold on to the truth in your words. He didn’t speak, but the way he looked at you, with so much emotion, so much uncertainty, told you that he was listening.

“Let go of the idea that you don’t deserve this”, you urged, your voice gentle but filled with conviction. “You deserve happiness, Dean. You deserve love. And I’m here, right here, because I want to be. Not because you’re perfect or because you think you have to be something you’re not, but because I love you—exactly the way you are”.

Dean let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a moment as if he was trying to let your words sink in, trying to believe them. When he opened his eyes again, there was a flicker of something different—hope, maybe. Or at least the beginnings of it.

“I’m not used to this”, he muttered, his voice rough but honest. “I’m not used to… having someone like you. Someone who sees past all the crap and still—”. He stopped, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Still loves you?”, you offered softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Because I do, Dean. I love you, and nothing you say is going to change that”.

Dean's breath hitched again, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. The weight of your words hung between you, thick and heavy with emotion, and you could see how deeply they were affecting him.

Before you could say anything else, Dean moved. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slid up your back, pulling you close in one swift, almost desperate motion. The intensity in his eyes softened, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was tender at first, almost hesitant, as if he was still testing the waters of allowing himself to be vulnerable with you. But it deepened quickly, the weight of everything unsaid and everything felt pouring into that moment. His lips moved against yours with a passion that was both gentle and overwhelming, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go.

You responded in kind, your fingers sliding into his hair as you kissed him back, the closeness between you feeling like the most natural thing in the world. There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind—this was where you belonged, with him, no matter the struggles or the past.

Dean broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. "You don't know what you do to me", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve this—don't deserve you—but damn, I want it".

You smiled softly, your hand cupping his cheek as you looked into his eyes. "You deserve all of it, Dean. And I’m not going anywhere".

For the first time in a long time, Dean allowed himself to believe it—to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could have this. That he could be happy.

And with that thought, he kissed you again, his lips claiming yours with a new sense of purpose, as if he was finally letting himself fully feel what he had been holding back for so long. The kiss was filled with all the things he couldn't say out loud—the love, the fear, the hope—and you felt every bit of it in the way he held you close, the way he let his guard down just for you.

The kiss deepened, the weight of Dean’s arms around you grounding you completely. You felt safe, cherished, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, caught in this perfect, intimate bubble.

But the moment was short-lived.

A sharp knock at the door jolted you both out of your reverie, the sound cutting through the quiet like a knife. “Hey!”, Sam’s voice called from the other side, his tone firm but impatient. “If you guys want to eat before the mess starts, you’d better hurry up. Jack’s already poking at the waffles”.

Dean let out a frustrated groan, his forehead dropping against yours as he muttered, “Of course”. His voice was filled with both exasperation and amusement, but there was a flicker of reluctance in his eyes as he slowly pulled back from you.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Duty calls”, you teased, though your voice carried a hint of regret.

Dean sighed, sitting back and running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the door. “Yeah, yeah. Guess breakfast waits for no one—not even us”.

You slipped off his lap reluctantly, straightening your shirt as you turned toward your bag to grab your boots. Dean watched you for a moment, the warmth in his gaze lingering as if he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment go.

Sam knocked again, this time louder. “Seriously, you guys, let’s move! This case isn’t going to wait forever”.

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he stood and grabbed his jacket. “I swear, Sam’s got the timing of a damn drill sergeant”.

You laughed as you laced up your boots, glancing at him over your shoulder. “At least he’s consistent”.

———————————

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm a bit stressed out about Christmas and I'm glad I was able to update something at all. I hope you like it anyway. <3

Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall @lilbloggs @emily-winchester @star-yawnznn @noell666 @averagedenjienjoyer0290 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[solxamber]

At first, I like and support the most of your work. It's well written and in a style I like. But of course, I have a little request. Diasomnia, 4, Fluff (Comedy)

You can pick on your own, if it has to be Fluff or Comedy. I am fine with the both of them.

thank you so much!

You: 1, Gargoyles: 0 || Malleus Draconia

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'm NOT jealous" ; Genre: Comedy

You loved Malleus. Truly. But there was only so much gargoyle trivia a person could endure before losing their mind.

Currently, he was waxing poetic about the symmetry of a gargoyle he'd seen in the Valley of Thorns, his eyes sparkling like he was confessing his first love.

“…and the way its wings curve? Utterly sublime. A craftsmanship that transcends time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

So then, in a fit of mischief, you said it. The words that would send your entire week spiraling into chaos:

“Sometimes I think you love gargoyles more than me.”

Silence.

The air grew thick. The moon dimmed. Somewhere, Sebek probably sneezed dramatically in the distance.

Malleus turned to you slowly, his expression one of deep betrayal. “What did you just say?”

“It’s a joke, Malleus,” you said, already regretting everything.

But he ignored you, his brows furrowing in the way that meant your next week was about to get very strange. “You think I love gargoyles more than you?”

“I don’t! That’s why it’s a joke!” you said quickly, waving your hands for emphasis.

But he wasn’t listening. Oh no, the great Prince of the Briar Valley had entered “dramatic spiral” mode.

“This cannot stand,” he said, already pacing like he was strategizing for war. “You must understand the depth of my affection. Gargoyles are… significant, yes. But you… you are far more important.”

“That’s nice, Malleus, but—”

“No! You must be convinced.”

The next morning, you woke up to chaos. Your dorm was… infested.

Stone gargoyles. Everywhere.

On your desk. Perched on your windowsill. One was even sitting in your chair, looking smug.

“MALLEUS!” you screeched, running out into the hallway only to find him waiting there, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Do you see?” he said, gesturing proudly at the invasion. “I have brought my gargoyle collection to you. I share my deepest loves only with those who matter most. Surely now you understand your place in my heart.”

You pointed wildly at the stone monstrosities. “HOW DOES THIS PROVE ANYTHING?!”

Malleus blinked, tilting his head. “You said I love gargoyles more than you, so I have shared them with you. This is logical."

“This is UNHINGED.”

“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you are still more radiant than they.”

You were so stunned by his sincerity that you almost forgot you were still yelling. Almost.

It got worse.

Malleus started comparing you to gargoyles.

“Your posture rivals that of the Archguard Protector in Thornmere Castle,” he mused as you sat at lunch.

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“And your smile,” he continued dreamily, “could put the Stone Warden’s eternal vigil to shame.”

You buried your face in your hands, debating your life choices.

The next day, you walked into Ramshackle dorm only to find your living room covered in… gargoyle carvings?

“Malleus, what—”

“These,” he announced grandly, stepping forward with a flourish, “are gifts. I carved them myself to show you how much I cherish you. Each one represents a moment that I value in our time together.”

You stared at the gargoyle army invading your living space, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or faint. “You realize this still doesn’t actually prove anything, right?”

He frowned. “But you said—”

“I was joking!”

Malleus tilted his head, confused. “So… you are not jealous of the gargoyles?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “No, I’m not jealous of the gargoyles! I was making a joke!”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You seemed very sincere.”

“I wasn’t!”

“But you—”

“I wasn’t!”

Malleus sighed, looking truly distressed. “Then how am I to express my feelings for you if not through grand gestures? Do you not like the gargoyles I made?”

Your heart softened at his genuine concern, but you couldn’t let this go on. “Malleus, I don’t need you to prove anything. I know you like me. You could have just said so.”

“But actions speak louder than words,” he replied solemnly.

You burst out laughing, and Malleus looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“You are losing your mind,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m the one losing my mind?” you said through giggles.

Malleus nodded. “Clearly. Perhaps you have spent too much time with Lilia.”

That only made you laugh harder, and eventually, Malleus joined in, though he still looked confused about what, exactly, was so funny.

In the end, you kept one of the gargoyle carvings—the smallest one—as a memento. The rest? They mysteriously vanished overnight. You didn’t ask questions.

But the next time Malleus started talking about gargoyles, you kept your jokes to yourself.

Masterlist

[sunflowhamato]

Usagi Yuichi: (Ghost/Ukagaka) ft. Leo Hamato- English/Spanish

Meet Usagi Yuichi, the brave protagonist of Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles (also known as Yuichi Usagi: Ghost/Ukagaka), who is now ready to interact with you directly from your computer. The best of all is that in this experience you can also live with Spot and Leonardo Hamato (ROTTMNT).

Includes history from both series, and one completely original, so Spoiler Warning. There will be no updates

Content (Menu): -Questions about him, friends and clan -Interact with you like watching movies, listening to music or reading -Tells interesting facts about the Yokai -Talk about Miyamoto Usagi -You can meditate -Spend time with Spot

-It is also in Spanish

If you like the character, but not the Leosagi/Leoichi ship, that's fine. You can enjoy Ukagaka without needing to include that feature. Simply DO NOT follow the following steps.

How do I get Leonardo? It's very simple. At first, only Usagi will appear on your computer. You will have to spend enough time with it to unlock some functions, mainly in the menu, where you click on “Interact” below, the folders dedicated to Leo and Spot will appear. When you click on this folder to join Leo, you will only need to wait a few minutes, and it will appear. With their arrival, some exclusive functions will be added for them. This step can only be done if you wish.

Usagi functions with Leonardo: Functions to interact with the characters. The system includes several functions for you to spend time with Usagi and Leonardo in some activities. In this part, the Ukagaka will be focused on the relationship between both characters, showing you funny anecdotes or cute gestures between them. You will be able to unlock these animations the moment you get the folder, and you will only need to click on the action you want them to perform. Some animations may only be performed once a day. For his part, Leonardo will only be added as part of the Ukagaka, which means that you will not be able to ask him questions or pet him, since these functions are exclusive to Usagi. It is important to highlight that this experience of adding Leo is inspired by the ship between both characters. Therefore, you should not expect any of them to have flirtatious gestures towards you.

Costume change (with Leo): What excites me most about this Ukagaka is that, after spending time and earning points with Usagi and Leonardo, you will unlock a very special feature: Both characters will change costumes and transform into versions inspired by different popular comics about them. It's an exciting surprise that you're sure to love! I want to thank and give credits to the artists who gave me permission to use their designs as part of the Ukagaka. Now, I'm excited to reveal the comics selected for this feature.

-Big Mama's Child AU- @hitokshellart:

-True Colors AU- @v-albion:

-AU (Yo-ho-ho) A Ninjas Life for me- @triona-tribblescore

-Love Me Dead (Vampire AU)- @x.bluell

I would just like to give a clarification about this, even if they change the costumes, the functions or the questions will not be changed, that will remain the same, because all the stories are concluded for the moment and asking questions or telling something that has not yet been revealed is It makes me wrong for the comic.

To make the ukagaka change costumes you just have to left click and search for “Change Shell”, the different outfits will appear, and you just have to select the one you want and wait for it to load.

How do I get the ukadaka? For this point I would like to give one more thanks to @venelona-turtle-den (Ukagaka by Leo F!) who was the biggest source of inspiration to create this ukagaka.

There are two options, if you have Leo F!'s ukagaka, the only thing you need to do is enter the drive link that I will leave below and download the first file called “SamuraiRabbitBalloon” with that file downloaded, you need the second one that would depend on you In what language do you want it, if it is in English, download only the “Yuichi UsagiENG.nar” file, and if you want it in Spanish, it would only be the “Yuichi Usagi.ESP” file.

If you don't have Leo F!'s ukagaka, you need to go to this page. Download what this. Then you just need to follow the previous step that I put in when you already have the ukagaka (In this case Emily).

From here you have two options to take out Usagi Yuichi, the first is to left click on the ukagaka you have at that moment, and go to where it says “Change Ghost”, you only click on the option of the ukadaka you want to take out. If it doesn't appear and you already have the files downloaded, what you can do is grab the file that ends in “.nar” and drag it to the ukagaka. With this completed you just need to wait for everything to download and update.

Link Drive:

Special thanks: I was not the only one working on this ukagaka, so I thank my great friend @Kyon_uwu, who was the programmer who managed to do all this, so thank you very much for your great work in these weeks <3 He really made a great effort so thank him for everything. If you want to support more for their work, I leave you the link for donations:

Doubts: If you have any questions, send a message to this account, or you can send them to my Twitter, I will be happy to answer them.

[admirationandromantics]

Chris's Little Sister

Can you write something about Josh dating Chris’s younger sister? -anon 

Of course I can!! I think one of the best ways to incorporate the reader into the group would actually be through a sibling relationship. And like… brother’s best friend? Now that’s something I live for. I did take some inspiration from Friends, just felt like it fit. Anyways, enjoy some headcanons for this one (already written one story today, and prepping for Christmas, so don’t have that much time).

And yeah, I still got a couple of requests in my inbox, but please bear with me. I do have things to do, but will get to them when I have the time. Enjoy <3

Chris and Josh met in third grade, so no wonder that when Chris brought home this beautiful little guy, you had heart eyes. You didn’t dare to talk to him, even when he initiated the conversation. You hid behind Chris or your mom, just observing them as they played. 

As you grew older, you developed more of a friendly relationship, this was your brother’s best friend after all, you weren’t gonna fuck it up. Chris brought you when you went to the Washingtons, and you mainly spent your time with the twins. 

Of course, Josh had a soft spot for you. He liked you, felt that he had to protect you, that sort of thing. You didn’t know if it was because you were Chris’s sister or because there was something else beneath. Soon, after a little too much time without Chris, you guys figured things out. 

Stolen glances became signals for a retreat to a secluded make out spot. Secret visits, making sure not to wake his sisters as well. Small touches that no one noticed. Everything felt like fireful passion, and keeping it secret made it even more thrilling. 

Josh has also made a few suggestive comments to his friend, trying to warm him up to the idea. “No, I’m not home that day” “Is your sister home?” “Why does that matter?” “I can think of a few ways we could entertain ourselves” “You’re not going near my sister, I’ll beat your head off, no joke” “Yeah, yeah… I know” 

When the annual winter getaway came, you found yourself with a lot more space and options. You and Josh talked, always away from Chris. I mean, he would actually kill him if he did something. You spent this time being flirty, a few comments here and there, which surprised the bachelor. 

That’s when it suddenly happened. You found yourself pressed up against the wall, locking lips with Josh Washington, your brother’s best friend. But you were caught. Hannah stood like a ghost in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth agape. You both knew you had fucked up. 

“Hannah!” “Don’t fucking talk to me” “Hannah, please!” “Has this been the drive all along? Being my friend, being with me just to hook up with my brother?” 

“You hooked up with Josh?” The colour drains from your face as you hear his voice. Chris, standing there, defeated, looking down on you. Everything is fucked up, everything is bad. “Chris, please hear me out…” 

He doesn’t. He marches to Josh’s room, confronting his friend. “What the hell, Josh!” 

You run inside, putting yourself in between them. “What’s going on?” Josh whispers to you, confused by the raging blonde. “He knows” “Shit”

“How long has this been going on?” You’re both silent, wondering what the right answer to the question might be. A while, a long time. Maybe he’d go easier on you if you said it was just one time? “Oh my god, and you never told me?” He’s looking down at you, disappointment and full of sorrow. 

“Listen Chris…” “Is he forcing you to do anything?” “No!” “Has he manipulated you in any way?” “Absolutely not!” 

He’s still defeated, trying to come to terms with it all. “You have many girls head over heels for you. Why, why. Why did it have to be her?” 

You wouldn’t admit it, but you were kind of curious as well. Why you, of all people. 

“Man, I-I can’t describe it. It just happened. And I’m glad it did. I love her, and we work, we’re good together” 

You both turn your attention to Chris again, and you take hold of his hand, rubbing over the knuckles softly. “I’m sorry Chris, but I feel the same about him” 

“For goodness sake, it’ll take time for me to digest this” “Of course, we understand” “And you feel safe?” “I do” “And he hasn’t hurt you in any way?” “No” 

“That’s a lie” Beth says, standing in the doorway. “What?” “The sounds I’ve heard from his room the last few weeks…” 

The relief turns to fear again as your brother rush to tackle your boyfriend.

[islandofthedollz]

❤︎Jimmy’s voicemail ❤︎

⁠❥TW implied Rape, blood, implied blackmail

❥ You’re Ex boyfriend Jimmy leaves you voice mail.

“Hey (Y/N). Thought I’d call you. This is probably the, what? Probably the 16th voicemail I’ve left you.”

“I know that one time you answered… and you said… what’d you say? You said that you’d call the police or something? File a restraining order? One of those. I don’t really remember. My memory has been weird these days, maybe it’s the alcohol, but um… I just wanna tell you some things.

I wished you would’ve just picked up the phone… the last time I heard your voice I was hard for hours. I’m gonna have to start recording your voice now. It’s embarrassing, but I’m having trouble getting it up without you.”

“Did you get the poem I sent you it reminded me of you? I’m sure you have, I mean, you’re fucking obsessed with me like I’m of you. I saw a poetry book… I saw it in your apartment that time I fucked you. I know you try to pretend like you’re not obsessed but trust me, I know. Fuck, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

“My favorite line of the entire thing is when I talk about- when I talk about taking your heart out and ripping my chest open and putting your heart inside me…”

“If you had no heart, you wouldn’t be able to love at anyone else, would you? You’d stop making me so fucking jealous. You love making me jealous, don’t you? You..like playing hard to get. You like it when I’m jealous, want me to fuck you when I’m jealous. You’d like that wouldn’t you?

Fucking you with my cock until you’re crying? Little crybaby, acting like she doesn’t want to, like she doesn't want it.”

“I’m gonna get you one day, you know… one day. I’ll cut your fingers open and collect your blood… wear it around my neck and you’ll wear mine so everyone knows you’re mine. You’re already mine, just no one seems to know it yet. It pisses me off… I want you so fucking bad, baby.

You have no clue. I think about you all the time; all my poems are about you, you know I read them to curly he says say it’s nice that I found another hobby that isn’t weightlifting don’t you agree?”

“you know my favorite one is… where I wrote about how I want to hold your hand and kiss you. About how I just want to be with you, you know? But, um, the dirty ones are especially about you.”

Jimmy chuckles there’s a pause he sighs.

“Listen, I don’t really know what I did for this kind of treatment, babe. I’m starting to get a bit impatient. You don’t respond to my messages, my calls… you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Do you realize how that I die a little bit on the inside when you don’t call me back?”

“But you just love to play hard to get… fucking ignoring me. Hell, I even asked you out and you said no. Do you… do you realize my love for you? Do you realize who the fuck you said no to?

I love you so much it hurts I don’t care who gets in the way of out love. No one is gonna separate us. I’m always watching you. You need me as much as I need you. I know you want me, you’re just teasing me.”

“But you… you know I love it when you tease. Told you that myself, huh? All those times I teased my cock with your cunt… you liked it too, I remember. Yeah, you may have been drunk but you were moaning like a whore.

They say even in your drunkest state you’re honest. if You were moaning, you came so many times, remember? Came all over my cock. You said- you said in your little voice ah, Jimmy , harder! Remember?”

“I was a good fuck wasn’t I? You were saying I was a bit rough and you mentioned how you thought you were bleeding. I mean, if that’s what you’re into. I don’t mind a kinky girl.

I’d prefer one, actually. Maybe that’s why I love you so much we’re so alike. You wanna be my slut, do you? Hm…”

“It would be a shame if your family found out… they’d probably never talk to you. All your dirty little secrets brought to light, and yeah, I know you have secrets. If you don’t want those to come out, you better fucking call me back. You have my number.

[llflorence]

Can I convince you to fall for me?

Sequel to Did you just -- kiss me? (Human AU, RatedE)

Inspired by this art by @gahellhimself-blog

“Oh, pshh!” Maggie says as she begins her second mimosa. The fine lines around her mouth have cracked as the face mask dries. “He’s not going to judge your sexual prowess on a little chipped tooth.”

Aziraphale glances around at the stylists. They’re all watching where he and Maggie sit, side by side in the massage chairs with their feet in roiling tubs of hot, soapy water. He just knows he’s being judged.

“It’s not so little anymore,” he complains, quiet enough so only they two can hear. “If you hadn’t talked me into eating that toffee —“

Maggie’s natural falsetto voice gets even higher as she lifts the bottom of Aziraphale’s flute toward his face. “Puh-lease. It’s hardly noticeable. It’s like the dimples on your ass, or the ski-jump nose.”

Aziraphale pushes her hand away and immediately takes offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She laughs. The ladies in the chairs to their right look disapprovingly down long noses. “I only meant that it’s cute!”

Before Aziraphale can protest, Maggie downs the rest of her drink. She leans over, conspiratorially like. “It’s not like he’s going to know you can’t afford the dentist because you have no insurance and can barely make rent without help from your mother. Unless, of course, you tell him.”

Maggie is the nicest, kindest, most generous person Aziraphale knows, which is why she’s his best friend. Still, alcohol does tend to make her brutally honest.

She pats his hand and lifts the glass back to his mouth. If this wasn’t their annual pampering girls' day, he’d have refused. As it is, it’s New Year's Eve morning, and he’s way out of sorts. Maybe she has the right idea.

He finishes the mimosa in two gulps and forces himself to withstand the bittersweet fizzing in his nose and on his tongue. If he’d listened to Muriel and postponed this date until after the holidays, he wouldn’t be so miserable.

Well. He’d be less miserable.

Aziraphale lets Maggie pour him another glass from the chilled carafe in the cooler by her side. By the way things are going, he’s going to need it to make it through her advice for this evening.

“Now. You’ve already hired the Uber, right?” Her pretty, plump cheeks are quite pink.

“Yes,” he sighs. “But I can’t even pay for this spa treatment. I don’t know how I’m going to pay down the credit cards —“

“Think of it this way,” she interrupts, swirling her glass and staring off into the distance. The windows are dripping with condensation, obscuring the view of the street. “If you drive Ruby, you’ll be obligated to go take her home, won’t you? This way your handsome devil will have to drive you to his place.”

Aziraphale hasn’t told her about the text messages. He’s certain that Anthony has it in the stars to bring Aziraphale home. The man just doesn’t know what to expect.

(He thinks of Ruby where she’s parked on the street outside his apartment. Two-hundred-and-forty-thousand miles and the Subaru hasn’t failed him yet.)

“Yeah,” he grumps. “And when we get there and I drop my trousers, and all I have to offer is soft-serve ice cream —“

Maggie laughs again. A good-sized splash of orange juice and champagne spills on her sweater. “At our age, that’s the least of our worries!”

Aziraphale is pretty sure she’s never had to deal with a limp dick her entire life.

“This coming from a fifty-one-year-old lesbian whose pleasure button is on the outside .”

This time, the whole row of massage chair inhabitants turns to look at them, from both sides. Aziraphale quickly hides his face in his drink.

Maggie, however, doesn’t get the hint. Her volume is way past annoying, heading for indecent. “Maybe you fifty-one-and-a-half-year-old gays should try using your fingers. Or, better yet, your mouth .”

Mimosa sprays all over Aziraphale’s lap, soiling his clean pants and dribbling down his chin. At least he hasn’t choked this time.

Felicia, his stylist, brings him a towel. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “About ten minutes left on the timer. You two need anything?”

Maggie needs nothing, of course. “But Aziraphale is going to need his chest waxed. I’m paying.”

“Aziraphale most certainly does not need his chest waxed!” he says, horrified. Felicia shares a wink with Maggie, and he groans at their sudden partnership.

“Come on!” Maggie pleads. She swishes her feet in the bath and bats her long eyelashes. “Don’t you think you shouldn’t leave anything to chance? Second time around and all?”

His stylist’s eyebrows rise as she lifts and checks under his mud mask. “Got a date, have we?”

Aziraphale closes his eyes and wishes he were anywhere else.

“It’s so romantic,” Maggie coos, and he knows she’s about to tell the whole tale. He inhales deeply and beats her to it.

“A friend of mine and I reconnected after fifteen years. I’m attending as his guest at a New Year’s Eve party tonight.”

Felicia knows Aziraphale almost as well as Maggie, seeing as he subscribes to therapy via hair and skin care. She eyes him head to foot and runs her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Keep the hairy chest,” she nods. “Run some of that conditioner I gave you last time through it. You’ll thank me. So will he.”

Aziraphale takes her advice as he stands in the shower under what can only be called a ‘stream.’ It’s more like a slow drizzle; he’s called the landlord three times about the clogged shower head. And the busted lightbulb inside the fridge. And the window that’s stuck open in the kitchen. It’s getting to the point where he’s just going to fix things himself. That is, if he knew how.

He waits as long as he can, until goosebumps form on his arms and he’s procrastinated enough. He’s about as clean as he can be, and he’s done everything possible to make himself presentable. Nothing he can do about the tooth, of course.

Aziraphale shaves and dresses and paces in the kitchen as he waits for his ride. The new cufflinks from Muriel look out of place with his not-so-new shirt and suit coat. But at least he’s not wearing something rented; he could never live with himself if he did that.

He smooths out his tie and glances at the phone lying on the kitchen counter. There have been no text messages all day from him. Aziraphale knows it’s because he’s busy. Today was the day Anthony was scheduled to finish up on that very personal business he mentioned last week. And that was none of Aziraphale’s business.

The phone lights up, vibrating as a call comes through. It’s Muriel, and he considers not answering it. They’re probably ringing with more advice. As if he’s not already horribly embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Hey, Dad,” they say, bright and cheery as usual. “Just calling to wish you good luck.”

Aziraphale tries to smile so that it will show up in his voice. “Thanks, Dear. It’s really going to be f –”

“If it’s like, really bad, remember you can call me and I’ll pick you up. Just like you always offered for me.”

It’s going to be a long, long night, he thinks.

The Uber driver sends him a text from the street, and Aziraphale says goodbye to his offspring. He collects his long wool coat, hat, and mittens, and almost forgets the scarf as he pulls the door shut. It gets stuck in the door as he climbs inside, but Aziraphale doesn’t realize it. He’s too busy trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to send a text.

To Anthony J. Crowley.

On my way! 

It’s a short drive through the busy part of downtown. Traffic is horrendous, and Aziraphale watches the time as his ride is forced to slow down to allow revelers to cross the streets. At this rate, he’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes late. Not the first impression he wishes to make, especially if Anthony relates punctuality to sex.

Sex is all Aziraphale can think about. In a matter of days, he’s become obsessed. He worries about how he smells, how he’ll taste, whether he should eat or be eaten. It ramps him up so high that he can’t focus on everyday things, like remembering to turn the dryer on after throwing wet clothes in. Or bringing the garbage and the recycling out to the cans.

So when the car pulls up to a swanky hotel, all lit up like a Christmas tree, he’s adjusting his dick inside the new underwear he bought himself as a gift. He makes the mistake of feeling the tip for wetness, which, of course, is right there. And, god, he hopes it isn’t leaking through to make a dark spot on the front of his trousers.

He pays and thanks the driver, opening the door to find the end of his scarf coated with brown, sandy slush. It’s dripping like mad as he lifts it off the ground, as he tries to close the car door and not step in the salty, puddled mess next to the curb.

The night has already begun with a failure, as he slips on the sidewalk and loses his balance. He closes his eyes as he sees very clearly what is about to happen. He’s going to land on his ass and ruin his night.

But the fall doesn’t happen. Instead, he is rescued. He is rescued by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man dressed in a familiar Santa cap. Gold-brown eyes twinkle down at him, and Aziraphale feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“Oh!” he manages, shocked and thrilled and a hundred other emotions all at once. Anthony has both hands firmly under Aziraphale’s elbows. And he’s smiling.

He’s smiling.

“See,” he begins, voice six shades of seductive as he steadies Aziraphale on his feet. “I thought maybe I could eventually convince you to fall for me, but this is ridiculous.”

Read on AO3

[cosmicrelease]

steve had spent all day at work. meaning he spent all day masking using his perfectly curated customer service persona. and he was tired. all he wanted to do was go to his dark, quiet house, and curl up in bed.

except he couldn’t.

no of course he couldn’t. he had stupidly made plans weeks ago and stupidly assumed he’d be up for it when the day came. eddie had asked steve to use his place for a hellfire christmas get together and of course steve said yes. but now the day is here and he really wasn’t looking forward to it.

steve drove home from work in silence. just needing the time to recover from the day. he knew he didn’t have much time between work and when people would be at his place but he was hoping it would be enough time to take a breath.

unfortunately, it was not enough time. everyone had shown up about an hour ago and steve was starting to feel the ribbon holding his mask on start to come loose. the group was in the living room listening to christmas music while having a loud and heated debate about something from the last campaign. steve was sat next to eddie on the couch, trying to keep up with what was going on. trying to make the right facial expressions for whatever story was being told to him, trying to make sure he asked enough questions but not too many, trying to appear like everyone else. all that in combination with the music and everyone talking at once and the room was a mess of discarded wrapping paper had steve feeling like he was about to rip off his skin.

normally steve did great in social situations, he was good at mimicking people and listening to what they had to say. but on days where his system was already overwhelmed, he got very overstimulated very quickly. and all he wanted to do was be somewhere quiet and dark.

not wanting to ruin anyone’s festivities he decided to go up to his room, his safe space, to try and get it together. he hadn’t even realized he had been shaking until he reached for the knob to let himself in. after shutting the door to block out the noise steve went to the furthers corner of the room before sliding to the floor with his back against the wall. it made him feel safe and protected from all sides. he began biting at the skin on his nails on one hand while the other was in his hair pulling, trying to pull himself back to reality. he felt like his whole body was on fire. his pants were too tight, his shirt had a tag that he hadn’t noticed before, and he could still hear the rumbling of people on the floor below.

he wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard a small knock on the door, “stevie? I’m going to come in because I’m worried about you. okay baby?”

steve didn’t have the energy to respond but he knew eddie was going to come in either way so it didn’t really matter. eddie opened the door before quickly and quietly closing it, making his way over to where steve and quietly speaking, “hey sweetheart. what’s going on?”

steve couldn’t respond, still feeling too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought. instead he let out a small defeat whine because it’s the only sound his body would allow him to make. suddenly steve felt eddie grab his hands, entangling their fingers together. it was grounding but he still felt jittery and like he needed to get the movement out somehow so he began rocking side to side. he closed his eyes because making eye contact with eddie right now is way too much for him.

this caused eddie to softly say, “yeah baby that’s okay. i just don’t want you hurting yourself sweetheart.” eddie started to softly rock along with steve as to not hinder steve’s movements with their hand holding.

they sway for awhile longer while steve takes some deep breaths before stopping his movement, hands still intwined with eddie’s. he then opens his eyes to look at eddie before saying a whispering a quiet, “sorry.”

“oh sweetheart,” eddie cooed. “you never have to apologize for something like this, it’s not your fault. i just want to make sure you’re okay. can we get you off the floor and over to the bed?”

steve was so exhausted he could only nod in reply to eddie’s question. eddie stands first, and with their hands still connected, steve allows himself to be pulled up off the floor. once steve is sitting in bed eddie grabs him some comfy pants to slide on instead of jeans, and tells steve to take his shirt off since eddie knows it will make steve feel like he can breathe better.

once he was changed and comfy steve spoke up again, “eds? will you—will you hold me?”

“yeah sweetheart of course i will.” eddie gently replies as he arranges himself. he sits with his back against the pillows and allowed steve to wrap himself around eddie’s torso, with his head on eddie’s chest.

after letting out a sigh of comfort as he felt eddie’s fingers in his hair steve felt the need to say something, “thank you eds. i really appreciate you taking care of me and not judging. you make me feel safe.”

“you know you’ll always be safe with me baby. i will always take care of you just like you always take care of me. i wish you had told me you were having a bad day stevie, i could’ve helped you sooner.”

“i didn’t want you to worry. plus i didn’t want to ruin your party. oh my god the party! is everyone still downstairs? did i ruin everything?” steve began to panic.

“no need to stress sweetheart i already took care of it.”

“does that mean you kicked everyone out and i ruined your party?”

“no of course not! i just told dustin i was coming to check on you and if i wasn’t back in an hour to get clear everyone out. we had already done all the stuff we had planned lovey, we were just down there shooting the shit. i promise you didn’t ruin anything. now go ahead and rest I’m sure you’re exhausted right now. we can talk more about it later.” eddie sealed his statement with a kiss to the top of steve’s head.

“okay. love you eds.”

“love you too baby. now get some rest i’ll be here when you wake up.”

[itsmeemeg-fandomsandfics]

“So…” Jayce attempted to fill the awkward silence as the pair walked through the crowded streets of Zaun. Ever the gentleman he had offered to carry Elvie’s bag for her, surprised that all of her belongings could fit into one measly messenger bag. “Have you lived in the undercity your whole life?”

“Mhm.” Elvie nodded, only half listening to the man beside her. “Born and raised. It’s not so bad, believe it or not.”  

Jayce raised an eyebrow, sidestepping a vendor shouting about glow-ink tattoos. “Not so bad? Guess that depends on your definition of 'bad.'”

Elvie chuckled, the sound soft but genuine as she gazed up at the tall man beside her. “You get used to it after a while. Besides, we’ve got our own kind of charm down here. I mean, there's a reason the brothels stay open, even the enforcers can’t say no to Babette and her charms.”

Like a child caught by his mother, Jayces face flushed a deep shade of red at the mention of the undercity brothels. Awkwardly he cleared his throat and readjusted the bag hanging off his shoulder. 

“I forgot topsiders could be such prudes.” Elvie snickered, hand covering her mouth to suppress the smirk that was pulling at the corners of her lips. Jayce was easy to mess with, more so than the average topside citizen she had come across. 

Jayce huffed, his face still glowing red. “I’m not a prude. I just… have standards.”

“Standards?” Elvie quirked an eyebrow, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Let me guess: polite conversation over tea, a strict bedtime, and absolutely no mention of anything worthwhile, right?”

Jayce groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Sure, sure. What do you wanna talk about?” 

“How do you know Viktor?”

Sucking on her teeth, Elvie stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixed on the faint silhouette of Piltover’s skyline, barely visible through the smog that hung heavy over Zaun. The towering spires gleamed faintly in the polluted haze, a stark contrast to the rust and grime of the Undercity.

Her chest tightened as she stared upward. Viktor was there. He had been for years, living in that world of progress and prosperity. And yet, in all that time—nearly seven years—she hadn’t seen him. It killed her to think about it. 

“We grew up together, what more is there to it.” So much more, but she wasn't about to go spilling her entire history to the man before her. This was a chance to move forward and start anew, dredging up the past would hardly do any good.

Jayce- a few steps ahead turned to look at his companion, surprised to see she was several paces behind him. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

Before Elvie could answer, shouting from further down the street caught her attention. The hair on the back of her neck stood up straight as she turned towards the source of the noise. It dawned on her that this was not the usual kind of bickering one could expect while walking through the market, this was different, harsh- dangerous. 

The crowd around them had all but disappeared, the bustling energy of the main street giving way to a darker, eerie atmosphere. The faint hum of machinery echoed off the walls, and the flickering lights overhead cast jagged shadows across the alleyways. 

Bright green spray paint littered the rusted exteriors of abandoned shops. Creating crass illustrations of a bald man with a wide smile and spirals for eyes .The face seemed to leer at them, repeated in various sizes and angles, as though the figure were watching their every move.

“Keep your head down,” In two long strides Elvie had managed to catch up to Jayce and was tugging her bag off his shoulders. “And for the love of god lose the jacket.”

Jayce looked around, his unease showing on his face. “Where are we

She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes scanning their surroundings. “Nowhere you want to linger,” she muttered, her hand subtly shifting closer to the knife tucked into her belt. Elvie’s voice hardened as her gaze returned to Jayces figure, still clad in his pristine academy white. “I said loose the jacket, now.” 

Jayce blinked, confused. “What? Why?” Wordlessly he shuffled out of the academy jacket, a symbol of his status as a topsider. Awkwardly Jace shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to do with it now. 

“Because it screams Piltover,” Elvie snapped, nodding her head towards a nearby dumpster. “Now dump it.” 

Jayce glanced at the dumpster overflowing with trash, and then back at her. “You want me to just—throw it in there?”

Rolling her eyes Elvie bit back a sarcastic remark. “Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do. Unless you want to be jumped by Rourke or his goons? Now stay close and keep your eyes down.” 

Reluctantly Jayce tossed his jacket atop the pile of garbage, watching as the garment almost instantly sucked up the top layer of grime and staining it a disgusting shade of brown. “Happy?”

“Very.” Elvie replied flatley, already moving forward. 

The silence that followed them was suffocating. Every skittering of garbage down the street or hissing of an alley cat causing Elvie to grip her knife a little tighter. Every couple of steps she had to force herself to look back at her companion to ensure he was still following diligently behind her. 

Only once before had Elvie had the displeasure of finding herself in Rourke’s neighborhood- The Maw, years ago when she was much younger. The place was infamous, a part of the city even the most hardened of Zaun’s criminals avoided unless they were desperate. It was a part of the city where people had a tendency to go missing. 

She could still remember the terror that had filled her all those years ago walking the same empty streets. She had been desperate back then and had exhausted all other options before turning to Rourke for information.

A high pitched whistle grounded her back in reality.The shrill sound cut through the stale air of the Maw, snapping Elvie out of her reverie. Her muscles tensed, and her hand instinctively went to the blade at her side, eyes scanning the street ahead.

The sound was followed by the faint scrape of boots against metal. Someone was coming.

Her heart quickened as the figure stepped into view. A man, tall and stocky, with a scar running down the left side of his face, wearing a patched-up leather jacket. His gaze locked onto hers almost immediately, and Elvie felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. He wasn't alone—two more figures emerged from the shadows behind him, their movements deliberate and calculating.

“Well, well, well.” Rourke taunted, dropping his cigarette and grinding it beneath his boot. “I haven’t seen you round here in quite a while. Where's the cripple? The two of you were stuck like glue. He finally bite the bullet?”

“I don't want any trouble, Rourke, just makin' a delivery for the shop,” Elvie lied smoothly, pulling one of the bottles she had stolen from work before leaving. She held it out, shaking it slightly to catch the light, hoping it would distract them from her true intentions.

Rourke’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, inspecting her face with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

“Delivery, huh?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. His gaze flicked down to the bottle, then back to her. "In The Maw?"

Before she could answer, one of the men behind him piped up, his voice sharp and inquisitive. "Who’s your friend?"

“A replacement, “ Forcing herself to breathe steady, Elvie answered. “Since Vik’s not around anymore.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” The shock Jayce had felt at the man's sincerity was quickly replaced with fear as Rourke turned to him with a sneer. “What's your name, friend?

“Jayce.” Jayce answered, throat tightening as he choked out his own name.

Rourke’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "Jayce, huh? You don’t look like someone who belongs here. You sure you’re in the right place?"

Elvie tensed, instinctively stepping closer to Jayce, but Rourke raised a hand, signaling for her to stay back. His eyes never left Jayce’s.

"Not many folks wander into The Maw without something to hide," Rourke continued, his voice dripping with malice. "So, tell me, Jayce... What's a Piltie doing in my turf?”

There was a flash of silver as Rourke’s right hand- Ziggy, lunged forward with his blade raised high. With a moment to spare Elvie jumped back as the knife sliced through the air where she had just been standing. Her shoulder slammed into the wall behind her but there was no time to be hindered by pain. Using the fact that she was much more nimble than the men surrounding her Evlie used the wall to launch herself towards Jayce, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back the way they came. 

“Run!” She shouted.

Jayce did not need to be told twice. 

The men in pursuit howled with laughter as they chased the pair down the narrow streets. The sound of boots pounding against the cobblestones echoed through the alleyways, mixing with the frantic footsteps of the fleeing duo. Elvie, breathless, glanced over her shoulder at the group of rough-looking men gaining on them. They were getting closer, their cruel jeers carrying in the damp air.

Grabbing a trashcan next to a bar's backdoor, Elvie hurled it into the path of her pursuers with the hopes of at least slowing them down. The streets continued to twist before them, growing harder and harder to maneuver in. 

 A hand ghosted over the exposed skin of her shoulder threatening to pull her back and into the arms of danger. Instinct took over, within a split second the knife that had been tucked into her belt this whole time was slicing through the air. Rourke howled in pain as the blade made contact with flesh. For a split second the men pursuing them hesitated- startled by their bosses' cries. 

Using the hesitation to their advantage Evie grabbed Jayce once again, pulling him behind a corner he had failed to notice. Hopefully their pursuits had failed to notice it as well. She pressed her back against the rough stone wall in an attempt to hide within the shadows. Not once did she allow her grip on Jayce to loosen. 

“Don't move.” She whispered, voice barely audible as the thrumming of her heart threatened to give their hiding spot away. 

Wide eyed Jayce nodded, his chest heaving. The adrenaline that had gotten them this far had quickly disappeared, replaced with a heavy blanket of exhaustion. The heavy drumming of boots on the ground drew closer and Elvie could hear their pursuers bickering amongst themselves . 

“Spread out, I want that brats head.”

“Yes sir.”

“On it.

“Won't let you down boss.”

The goons shouted over each other, voices dangerously close. Elvie was sure that if she dared to peek around the corner she’d find herself nose to nose with Rourke once again. Shadows danced on the opposite wall, large and imposing as they darted past the pair's hiding spot before disappearing further down the road. 

Next to her Jayce shuffled, prematurely attempting to push himself out of the shadows to get the two back on track. Swiftly Elvie placed a palm on the man's chest pushing him back against the wall and silencing his protests with a glare. Not wanting to risk drawing attention back to the alley she hoped Jayce could understand what she was trying to convey- wait.

Minutes ticked by- uncomfortably long as they remained unmoving. The air seemed to grow more heavy and oppressive if that was even possible as Elvie and Jayce struggled to catch their breath. 

“I- I think we’re in the clear.” Whipping the sweat from her brow Elvie turned to Jayce, offering him a lopsided smile. “If we backtrack and cut through the fissures we should make it to the streetcars in twenty minutes, thirty tops.”

Jayce let out a shaky breath as he nodded. “They won't be waiting for us there?”

“No,” She sighed. “Too many enforcers. Rourke’s tough but he's not stupid.” 

Jayce looked at her for a moment, his face caught between doubt and trust, before giving a small nod. "Alright. Lead the way."

It didn't take much backtracking for the pair to find themselves on friendlier streets. The labyrinth of Rourkes territory makes way for wider streets bustling with dimly lit apartments on either side. The lack of green spray paint confirmed they were free of The Maws grasp. 

Slowing her pace Elvie looked back at Jayce who had been following no more than a step behind her. “Told you we’d make it.”

Awkwardly Jayce chuckled, his heart rate still elevated from their close call. “You're sure they won't come this far? 

“Positive.”

By the time they finally made it to the street cars night was beginning to creep along the horizon. Tired enforcers stood around chatting with each other. One had even decided to take his break early, seated on a stack of crates with his flask open and half empty.

“Last call to go up to the bridge.” A female enforcer shouted, unnecessarily so as they were the only ones around this late. Next to her Jace said something but Elvie had been too distracted to actually hear what he had said. How could she when the beginning of her new life was only a few steps ahead of her. 

Piltover's gilded gleam stretched before her, both beautiful and imposing. How many times had she stared up at the city, wishing she could claw her way up and join them. To breathe in air that didn't burn her lungs with every breath. To indulge in fancy foods and imported wines. All of it had felt like nothing more than a childhood dream and yet here she was. 

Despite the fact that they were still technically in Zaun, Elvie could already feel the difference around her. Piltover's influence lingered, blurring the lines between the city of progress and the harsh edges of the undercity. The streets were cleaner, the air less suffocating. She really was on the precipice of something great. 

“Ready to go?” Jayce reappeared out of nowhere, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly at the touch, muscles still wound tight from the earlier confrontation. Turning to him Elvie gave a playful punch to Jayces shoulder.

“Scared the crap outta me there.”

“Sorry,” Jacye chuckled, hand dropping to his side. “We should get going, I’m sure Viktors wondering what's taking us so long.” 

The thought of Viktor waiting for them, for her all the way up in Piltover brought a smile to Elvies face. She could almost picture him now- features sharper from age, staring intensely at the clock while he tapped his cane impatiently on the floor. Had he missed her just as much as she missed him? Five years was a long time, surly over the years he had made new friends. Yet he had sent for her, with a proposal so grand it would change the world. 

Throwing one last glance at the platform before her, Elvie bid her home, her city farwell and stepped onto the street car. The doors hissed behind her as they closed, sealing the pair in with a soft metallic thud. Slowly the street car began its accent bringing Elvie one step closer to her new life. 

It was odd seeing the undercity from such a height. From the streetcar’s elevated tracks, Elvie looked down at Zaun stretching out beneath her, a labyrinth of metal and smoke, its disarray laid out like a tangled web. The city sprawled below in a chaotic mix of rusty rooftops, smoke billowing from forgotten vents, and twisting alleys that seemed to disappear into the depths of the earth. There was no neat order here—no carefully laid-out plans, only the wild, desperate surge of life clinging to the city’s bones.

“Saying goodbye?” Jayce asked, his voice soft yet teasing. 

Elvie scoffed with an equal playfulness, “More like good riddance.” 

Piltover was waiting for her, Viktor was waiting for her. The thought settled in her chest like a spark, warm and comforting. Elvie wasn’t just leaving Zaun behind—she was moving toward something new. A future she once believed was nothing more than a childish dream. The contrast between the girl she had been and the woman she was becoming wasn’t lost on her.

The streetcar continued on, widening the distance between her and Zaun. Zaun had been harsh, unforgiving, and yet it was hers. The struggle, the fight to survive—it had made her who she was. Piltover was a new chapter, a chance for her to be a part of something worth the city of progress. More importantly Viktor would be there with her every step of the way just like when they were children

With a steadying breath, Elvie tore her gaze away from the fleeting cityscape. Piltover was no longer just a distant dream—it was where she was going, where she was meant to be.

And she was ready.

[eduardamorgan]

Special training – König call of duty

(part one) (part two?)

Content warning: Body image issuesWeight-related remarks Bullying/exclusion Military setting Public embarrassment Mentions of past trauma

Words- 1.182

---

You were the new recruit in Task Force 141, and that’s how everyone saw you. Sure, you were a perfectly trained soldier, with skills unmatched by most, but in a place like this, you were just one among many at the facility—or at least, that’s what you thought.

Since being assigned here last month, you’ve felt like you were back in high school: unimportant, friendless, and with no one to trust. You avoided conflicts or anything that might tarnish your fragile reputation here. Honestly, you missed those idiots you used to call friends back at last year’s base.

Your routine was simple: wake up, get ready, and complete the tasks assigned to you by the lieutenant. Cleaning bathrooms or helping with uniform laundry were just some of your duties. Once those were done, you’d kill time in your “rookie dorm,” which, conveniently, was only occupied by you. It wasn’t luxurious by any means, but you were grateful to have a place where you could be alone, away from the judgmental stares of the veterans—the ones who looked at you like you were a nobody simply because you weren’t part of one of their intimidating groups.

That was, until you discovered the existence of a gym in the facility. Wandering the corridors in search of it, you found yourself wondering how long you’d have remained clueless about it had you not started exploring. Every face you passed was unfamiliar, and as you continued your search, you regretted not having anyone to ask without fearing they’d look at you like dirt for interrupting them.

You weren’t one to suck up to higher-ups, but you’d rather talk to them than to anyone else here. At least their rank meant they were obligated to show some level of respect.

Lost in thought, you were startled when a cold hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Before you could turn around, a sharp, almost mocking voice cut through the air:

“Lieutenant Ghost wants to see you in his office. Now.”

It was Riley, one of the few other women here. Her behavior was loud and obnoxious, often drawing attention as she laughed along with her little group.

“Yes, I might’ve analyzed everyone here already, even though I’ve only been in this ‘wildlife habitat’ for a month. Maybe I’m too quick to judge, but first impressions matter.”

“Hey! Are you even listening, rookie?”

You nodded quickly, and that was enough for Riley to turn her back on you after scanning you from head to toe. You’d caught her staring at you a few times before, but this time, her gaze was unsettling.

“Where’s his office?” you asked, trying to mask your unease.

“You’ve been here a month and still don’t know?” she sneered, not bothering to look back as she walked away.

You rushed to catch up with her, asking again. This time, she glared at you with disdain and pointed down the hallway.

“You’d better hurry, sweetheart. Someone’s waiting for you.”

Your face burned with anger. Sweetheart? What did she mean by that?

You stormed off before her smug expression could make you lose your composure. The memory of your teenage years flooded back, unbidden. You’d been slightly overweight growing up—not obese, but enough for your aunts to make comments that haunted you to this day. Comparing yourself to your petite, slim friends had only made things worse.

But that was the past. You’d overcome that. Your body didn’t bother you anymore. You were fit, disciplined, and an incredible soldier. No one’s opinions could change that.

Repeating affirmations to yourself, you pushed forward, only to stumble upon the most humiliating scene imaginable.

Every single man—yes, every single one—was walking through the hallway in nothing but towels, fresh out of the showers. As soon as you appeared in your ridiculous workout clothes, their attention turned to you.

No. No. No. Absolutely not!

What would they think of you now? That you’d “accidentally” wandered into the area just to see this?

You turned on your heel and bolted, swearing off the gym forever. Why had Riley sent you the wrong way? You knew it! You just knew it!

Tears stung your eyes as you fled. You hated this base. You wanted to go back to Kortac, to see Horangi, Roze, Calisto—even the Colonel! Couldn’t you have one thing go your way for once?

You didn’t realize you were crying until your vision blurred. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you failed to notice the end of the hallway—or rather, the massive man blocking it.

You collided with what felt like a brick wall, only to find yourself being caught mid-fall by a giant of a man. He steadied you, preventing what would’ve been a very painful face-first encounter with the floor.

“Soldier!” Ghost’s sharp voice broke through your shock.

You wiped your eyes and glanced at the name stitched onto the massive man’s tactical uniform: Colonel König. You looked up and froze, taking in the orange-patterned mask and piercing gray-blue eyes.

“Kö-”

“Is there a problem, soldier?” Ghost interrupted, his tone demanding. “Care to explain why you’re running from the male quarters?”

“No problem, sir. I just took the wrong turn,” you stammered, taking a step back.

“Didn’t Riley tell you I needed you in my office?”

“She did, sir.”

“Then why weren’t you there?”

“She gave me the wrong directions.”

Ghost let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright. I’ll show you the way myself.”

Following behind Ghost and König, you felt your self-worth plummet. Even though you’d dedicated your life to your career, you were still so far from their level.

When you arrived, Ghost made both you and König wait outside before calling you in. Inside, he got straight to the point.

“I’ll be blunt, Y/N. You stood out at Kortac, which is why you were sent to Task Force 141. Here, you’ve proven yourself equal to the others, and your skills haven’t gone unnoticed.”

You sat rigid, wondering if his words were some fantasy your brain had conjured to make you forget the trauma you’d just endured.

“But none of this happened by chance. It’s all thanks to the potential Colonel König saw in you. Your last high-risk mission in New Mexico showcased your capabilities, and now, after your evaluation period, Special Forces has approved you for promotion. You’re to begin training as a lieutenant.”

Your mind spun. Me? A lieutenant? What made me stand out?

“Only five soldiers in this base passed the month-long evaluation with strength and composure. Each of you has been assigned a trainer. In your case, it’s Colonel Alexander König. Training starts Monday morning.”

Still processing everything, you could barely respond. König stepped forward, his Austrian accent authoritative as he addressed Ghost. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Ghost left the room, leaving you alone with König. His massive presence seemed to fill the entire space, his sharp gaze piercing through you as if waiting for a response.

“I-I…”

“Monday. 6:30 a.m. Outside. We’ll start with outdoor training to test your limits.”

“Yes, sir… Colonel,” you managed, craning your neck to meet his gaze.

---

English is not my native language so I hope my translation was good 🥺

My first post here!

[shittysawtraps]

everything is like a saw trap. except saw traps. those are like sex.

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Being so deep into the lore of a piece of media is fun because you get to know things, but it also sucks because you can no longer have a conversation about your interests with anyone who’s remotely normal about that piece of media