#that poor girl. we need to get her out of there!!!!!!!!

[mulloey]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

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warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[angelluv16]

She Has A type Part 2

Lando Norris x Leclerc!reader

✩: Lexi Leclerc was in a relationship with Joe Burrow for almost 5 years until He dumped her. Lando has had a huge crush on her since forever until he decided it was time to make a move.

faceclaim: sophia birlem, girls from pinterest

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

request: no!!

warnings: none If their is let me know

Part 1

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liked by lexileclerc,joeburrow,arthurleclerc, and 628,926 others

lando: A night to Remember

view all 15,936 comments

username61: IS THAT A GIRL!!!!

arthurleclerc: Who got you smiling like that🤨😏😏

username62: Probably just another girl he's going to dump in the next week

lexileclerc: Your smile🥺

username63: HELLO!?!?!

username64: ARIANA?!?! what are you doing here

username65: OMG IS SHE GIVING HIM A SHOT

charlesleclerc: Well, well, well

username66: This is new lando never goes on dates who is he what where did old lando go

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lexileclerc

{caption 1: He won't wake up and I'm bored} {caption 2: Decided That I don't need a man}

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lando, carlossainz55, charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc and 1,523,667 others

lexileclerc: Happy Valentine's Day to My obsessed boy

view all 14,128 comments

lando: Happy Valentine's Love.

charlesleclerc: Finally I thought you guys were never going to announce it

arthurleclerc: ugh I have to deal with this in my own house when he comes over now I have to see it on my feed.

username67: Awww they Live together

username68: Free arthur lol

username69: THEY SAW TWITTER OMFG

username70: they said "Hey Let's Tell the world about our relationship that everyone figured out on Valentine's Day"

username71: Let's all act shocked!!

alex_albon: OMFG WHAT!!!!

georgerussell: THIS IS NEW TO ME

jade_distinguinn: This man stole My gf

alexandrasaintmleux: right he needs to be in jail

lilymhe: JAIL

flavy.barla: Thanks a lot lando

francisca.cgomes: NOT MY WIFE WE HAD PLANS

lando: stopp she's mine she doesn't like you guys. She loves me

lexileclerc: That's debatable. I love my girls more and kika We can still proceed with our plans.

francisca.cgomes: okay my love i'm packing right now

username72: Poor lando he just lost his gf to the most gorgeous girls inthe paddock

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lexileclerc, arthurleclerc,oscarpiastri,and 1,278,250 others

lando: LOML

view all 15,029 comments

lexileclerc: wtf is the last photo how did you get that

lando: Something called Your older brother

arthurleclerc: The only good photo is the last one

oscarpiastri: finally I can stop hearing him talk about his crush on you

username73: Lando Not the last photo

username74: Not me think Awwww This sis so cute and then I scroll to the last slide 😭😭

charlesleclerc: I'm dying

username75: everyone's talking about the last photo but Let's fucking talk about the caption My dude is in love

username76: Rightt I cant wrap my head around that little lando has a gf

username77: Her smile Is everything like ugh

username78: lets all say thank you lando for some new pics of our girl

username79: Thank you Lando

username80: thank you Lando

flavy.barla: Thank you Lando (I still don't like you)

francisca.cgomes: Thank you Lando

lilymhe: Thank you lando

alexandrasaintmleux: Thank you lando

jade_distinguinn: Thank you Lando

pascale.leclerc.355: Thank you Lando

ciscanorris1: Thank you Lando

flonorris1: Thank you Lando

lando: Your Welcome

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lexileclerc

{caption 1: He has my whole heart🥺🥰} {caption 2: I got ready to do nothing}

replies:

lando: I love you so much

arthurleclerc: 🙄🙄🤮🤮

username81: This is so cute omg

username82: Stopppp

replies:

lando: You can do me 😉😉

lexileclerc: No thank you😁😁

arthurleclerc: YOU DIDN'T WANT TO COME WITH ME AND JADE SO THAT'S ON YOU

lexileclerc: I did want to go with jade but then you came with so I decided not to go

alexandrasaintmleux: I'm heading to you rn

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And here's part 2!! Comment if you want to see more Lando and Lexi. Love you guys thank you for the love and support. Comment if you want to also be tagged in any future fanfic of mine!!

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@isagrace22 @charlesgirl16 @sarx164 @anamiad00msday

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[waynes-multiverse]

Am I excited for this? YES! How excited? VERY!!!

Gah, I've been really looking forward to this one! Love me some 40s and The Clock! 😍 (One of the reasons why I can't wait for Vought rising lol 👀)

Love how the first line of this story is an easter egg. You never cease to amaze me, Alex 🤓

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

*furrows brow* The Producers?? 🤔

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate. He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other. Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

Oh yes, we all remember that episode. Of course he would 😂 Poor Sam lol

If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

Uh-huh... Dear Lord he needs help 🙈

Btw, I've been doing my own 40s research for a fic and came across the contraception question. Idk why but condoms and methods of that time freak me tf out. Wondering what your experience with that was (if you came across it) lmao 😂

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Ooof so rough 😮‍💨 PTSD and seeing all the dirty shit that goes on during a war is really brutal 😢 (My grandpa was in WWII and told a lot of stories when he was still alive)

And then they were seperated too and didn't even know what happened to the other. Heartbreaking 😭

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

The sass! Already love her 😂🩵

He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair.

*vibes* 😍 (even though I know MMM is set in 1958 lol)

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

You don't know how fucking weak it makes me that he smokes in this. That vice will be the death of me 🫠🔥

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

Aww yeah, Sam's just doing his job. Not easy having a vagina in 1945 and dealing with dicks... 🙄

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

I get abusive vibes from shitty husband. There's more to it than cheating. Either he's emotionally abusive, physically or threathening to be. She seems like she wants to leave quick and quiet, fearing retaliation 👀

I loved how "damn" counted as cursing 😂 (Darn it!)

He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Yes, thank you!!! I knew Dean's spidey senses would turn on. (And I know that darn rat bastard can't hurt her now as long as soldier!Dean's around 💚)

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

Melted 🫠 (I legit die every time I write "Sergeant Shaw" in TCF, but I married a military guy myself, so makes sense I can't resist a uniform and a rank 😂🥵)

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

I love the 1940s cadence, by the way! You can tell it's a different time period the way the characters speak, the words they choose, and how they phrase things. So well done, my friend! 👏👏

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said. “Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

Mama's smelling mob activity... 🤌

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.

Such a Dean statement lol

I do hope he won't feel so hopeless for long ☺️

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.” Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.” You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Aww, they could've almost met. I love these little coincidences when people meet each other. It's fate 😍💕

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.”

I feel so bad for her. I hope Sam (and Dean) can help her soon and she can find happiness again 😢❤️‍🩹

“Hmm. No real loss there then.”  Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

The fucking nerve of that man... 🤬

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.”

I'm too busy plotting a gruesome murder in my head to properly get into how much I despise that guy 😂🙈

This was such an amazing start to this series! The storyline is so intriguing and the world-building is, well... simply otherworldly. You really took me on a journey to the 1940s here. Speechless, honestly 🩵

I so can't wait to see what else you have in store with this, but I think there will be lots of yelling from me lol 😅

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

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[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[kxtsukixoxo]

hear me out ! katsuki comfort fic where reader couldn't compete in the UA sports festivle bc of an injury to their quirk? idk if this sounds good enough to write but help me out here 💔💔🔥😭🙏

tysm honeybun

-☆

”you’re the only friend i need”

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗣𝗟��𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 - 𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗦 (𝗙𝗧 𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜 𝗕𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗚𝗢𝗨)

katsuki and comfort in the same sentence? i’m all in.

“fuck me sideways and dispose the damn body!” 

you screamed catching everyone’s attention in the hallway, principal nezu and aizawa spent half the afternoon lecturing you on not to use your quirk due to the serious injuries you sustained during training. as much as you were angry, you were sad more than anything, everyone looked forward to the UA festival, including you.

how were you supposed to participate with no quirk? surely there was a way you could push yourself and make it through the day right? after all that lecturing, was it really a good decision? recovery girl was tired of you being a chronic patient in her ward, you hated relying on the poor old day, as well. 

sniffling as you plopped yourself on the bench outside the dorms, you stared at the ground. losing track of time, the sun started to set. you heard the dormitory door crack open, katsuki leaned against the frame of the door, his arms crossed against his chest. he called out, “brat! are you gonna eat or not?”  

no answer. 

“quit ignornin’ me, i know you’re listening me”  

katsuki grew concerned, his expressions softened, as he furrowed his eyebrows and approached you slowly. he placed his hand on your shoulder as he took a seat next to you. 

“talk to me, you’re scaring me” 

your shoulder fell on his head, he didn’t reject the faint skin to skin contact, instead he embraced it, caressing your head. 

“whenever you’re ready (y/n)” 

minutes went by, katsuki remained patient as he watched your chest rise and fall, timidly 

“my quirk.” you finally spoke 

“hm? what about it?” 

“i can’t participate in the UA festival because i need to recover” 

“i see…i think you should sit it out, we don’t need you getting worse” katsuki muttered, trying to sympathise. 

“this is so unfair” you sniffled staring at the trees surrounding the dormitory. katsuki patted your head, staring at you worriedly. “it’s for your own good, we don’t want you completely damaging your quirk.” 

time went by as the two of you sat in silence. 

“if you’re not participating, i won’t too.” 

“i can’t do that to you kats” 

“i don’t wanna hear it, this is my decision.” 

you threw your arms around him.

“you’re the best kats” your voice muffled into the cotton of his shirt 

“yeah yeah whatever” katsuki grinned as he held onto you 

[yara0546]

Nct dream reaction | you are crying because of something cute

Pairing: nct dream x female!reader

Genre: fluff, relationship.

Note : English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Masterlist

Mark

You were watching a video of puppies meeting their mom for the first time when tears started welling up in your eyes. "They're so tiny and fluffy," you sniffled.

Mark blinked in confusion, staring at the screen, then at you. "Wait… you're crying?" He chuckled softly but quickly stopped when he saw your teary eyes. "Aw, no, no don’t cry!" He gently pulled you into his arms, patting your head. "I mean, yeah, they’re cute, but… don’t cry, dummy. You're gonna make me feel bad now."

Renjun

You were looking at a tiny duckling following its mom when you suddenly let out a choked sob.

Renjun turned to you, unimpressed. "Are you serious?" he asked, but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. "You're actually crying over a duckling?"

"It's just so small," you hiccupped.

He rolled his eyes but pulled you close, rubbing your back lightly. "You're ridiculous," he muttered, but he was already searching for more duckling videos just to see you smile again.

Jeno

You were reading a webtoon where a cat saved a little girl from danger, and the sheer wholesomeness made you tear up.

Jeno, who was beside you, noticed your sniffles and immediately sat up. "Wait, what happened? Are you okay?"

You turned the screen toward him, your voice shaky. "The cat saved her! Look!"

He blinked at the screen, then at you, before bursting into laughter. "You're crying over a cat?" he teased. But when you buried your face in his shoulder, embarrassed, he just smiled and pulled you close. "Okay, okay, I get it. That’s kinda cute… but not cuter than you."

Haechan

You were watching a baby laugh uncontrollably at their dad making funny faces. The joy on the baby’s face was so pure that you couldn’t help but cry.

Haechan gasped exaggeratedly. "Oh no, my baby’s crying!" He dramatically threw himself onto the couch, fake sobbing. "How could the world be so cruel to my poor angel?"

You sniffled, laughing through your tears. "It's not cruel! It's just so cute!" l

He grinned, sitting up and cupping your face. "Okay, but what if I make you laugh instead of cry?" He started making ridiculous faces, mimicking the baby’s dad in the video. You ended up crying from laughter instead.

Jaemin

You had been scrolling through pictures of tiny kittens sleeping in teacups when you suddenly burst into tears.

Jaemin, seeing your emotional state, immediately jumped into action. "Oh no, baby, who hurt you?"

"They're… so small," you wailed, showing him the pictures.

Jaemin nodded seriously, pretending to wipe away a tear of his own. "You’re right. This is too much. We need to adopt all the kittens in the world."

You giggled, and he kissed your forehead. "Anything to keep you smiling, my love."

Chenle

You were watching a baby panda rolling down a hill, and suddenly, tears welled up in your eyes.

Chenle, sitting beside you, started laughing immediately. "Are you seriously crying?"

"It's just so cute!" you wailed. l

Still laughing, he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. "You're the cutest one here," he teased, his laughter softening. "But, wow, I never knew pandas could make you this emotional."

Jisung

You were reading a manga about a boy taking care of a tiny lost bird, and the wholesome moment made you cry.

Jisung looked at you, panicked. "Wait, wait, wait! Why are you crying?"

You showed him the manga, sniffling. "He’s taking care of the baby bird, and...... "

Jisung awkwardly patted your shoulder, unsure what to do. "Uh… there, there?" But after a moment, he sighed and gently wiped your tears with his sleeve. "I mean… it is kinda cute."

[starl0rds]

Theory of Desire, pt. 3

Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader ୨୧ · ♡ · ୨୧

Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 here!

“Stay with me.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

As your yearning for him deepens, you discover sides of Young-il that shake you to your core.

Warnings: minors dni! smut, mentions of sex, masturbation, wet dream, fingering, oral sex, blood, dirty talk, dom!in-ho, praise kink, basically plot with porn/porn with plot

Author's Note: thank you so much for all the love and feedback on the fic. we love some mutual pining and heightening tension! chapters will be updated every few days on ao3 <3

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Chapter 3: all you have is your fire (and the place you need to reach)

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

- “Arsonist’s Lullaby,” by Hozier

For the first time in a long time, In-ho dreamed that night.

He was in that office again. Sitting behind that desk where the case files piled up like dirty laundry, in the rolling chair that creaked every time he turned. Coffee, black, sat in a mug positioned to the right of him, slowly growing cold. In front of him was an open file and a notepad. In his hand, a pen.

And yet, instead of reading from his file or jotting down notes, his attention was fixed on something else—the detective sitting at the desk across from him. Taking a statement from a young woman in a chair.

Suspects, witnesses, victims—they came and went at the police precinct all the time, a dime a dozen. This was standard procedure, nothing more. So what was so different about this? 

He watched the way the woman’s gaze remained downwards, her hands folded in her lap. She sat so still he could have almost believed she was a statue.

Detective Kang was saying something. In-ho noticed him shift closer towards the woman. His hand reached out to comfort her. Came down to rest on her thigh.

He watched the woman recoil. The detective only smiled. A lion baring its teeth at a deer.

The woman excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Detective Kang at his desk alone. Before In-ho could think, he was rising from his desk and striding over.

“I see you’ve been getting awfully friendly with the vic, Detective.”

The senior detective reclined in his chair and glanced sideways at him. “Alleged vic. And she’s quite pretty, isn’t she? Nice face. Although a little plain… otherwise.” He chuckled, and In-ho felt the heat rising in his chest.

“I think the captain would be very interested to hear if a certain Detective was crossing professional boundaries with a civilian.”

His eyes narrowed, like a snake’s. “You’ve always been a stickler for rules, In-ho. Don’t fret too much. It is my responsibility, after all, to take her statement.”

“And what exactly is it that you’re doing, Detective?”

“Just having my fun. The case is going nowhere as it is. Poor girl doesn’t even think she has any witnesses, or proof of what happened. This one is probably going in the archives.”

“Might I remind you that a civilian has no place in fulfilling your own… desires.”

“And what are you going to do, In-ho? File a report against me to the captain?” 

“Just keep it civil.”

The woman returned from the washroom. From the viewpoint of his desk, In-ho watched as Detective Kang continued to listen to the woman speak, sitting upright in his chair and taking notes. He made no move on her thereafter.

The woman finished with her statement. Detective Kang said something about the unlikeliness of the perp being called to the precinct, the proceedings of the case, and she only nodded. There was no sadness, no disappointment in her expression. As if she had expected nothing. 

Before the young woman left, she glanced around at the bullpen of the precinct, as if she had forgotten something but didn’t know what. In-ho thought it was almost like a plea. For someone, anyone, to look up and see her.

The woman caught In-ho’s gaze, just for a moment. Her eyes were hollow.

The song trumpeting through the loudspeaker roused you from your sleep.

“Players,” the disembodied voice declared again. “The next game will begin shortly. Please prepare yourself to exit in a single file line.”

Below you, the front door to the chamber opened. Several pink guards strode out into the room. No matter how many times you had seen them, the sight of them, carrying their large automatic rifles, made your palms sweat.

You felt someone come down the steps to stand at your bedside. It was Young-il, already up and already as alert as ever. His eyes were trained on the guards. Despite his attentiveness, you noticed the dark shadows underneath his eyes.

You studied his face. A thousand questions played on your tongue, and yet all you came back to was the heat of the moment, the sensation of his lips on yours. The feel of him pulling away. Your heart constricted.

“Young-il…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He met your gaze, and you saw that old hunger spark in his eyes. It was gone just as quickly. Despite your exasperation, the longing unmet from the night before, something in your armor weakened.

“You look tired,” you ventured.

“It’s the mattresses. Too thin, too small.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you sleep?”

Your mouth curved upwards. “Terribly.”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(chapter cont. here on ao3!)

taglist: @k1ra-park3r

[buck-up-buttercup]

So we all know how protective and possessive Caleb is. I want to write some head-canons on how he perceives and responds to people showing interest in MC (you) throughout the years.

As a child, Caleb had a fierce obligation towards protecting you from bullies. He even went so far as to lock you in an attic to prevent you from getting caught up in a fight with those twerps (reference Rain's Embrace). Especially with how fool-hardy you could be, he knew to keep you out of it completely. The bullies he mentions fending off would have been more than eager to play with a cute girl such as you. Caleb didn't like how rough they could be with you, obviously lacking respect towards a young girl who wanted to "run with the boys" as you so claimed. And of course, you only wanted to because Caleb could. But Caleb could handle himself and unfortunately, he couldn't juggle fending these kids off and keeping you unscathed in the mix of things. He needed to prove to these kids that he was not to be messed with and neither were you. That day, he made it doubly clear that no kid was to mess with you. He never fully explains to you the scuffle he went through to gain this sort of respect, but he won't ever forget learning to take advantage of his Evol to use against someone for the first time... and of course, that first time was for you. Everything he did was for you, somehow.

As a high-schooler, Caleb had many admirers and thus received many gifts and notes in school. You were always a little put off by it. You always thought Caleb was cute, but you didn't realize just how cute until his admirers showered him with attention. You also joked with him about being jealous that he received so many gifts on holidays from secret (or sometimes not-so-secret) admirers while you were left with none. He'd quickly play it off with a smile, claiming you could have all of his gifts if you wanted them since he had no interest in any of his admirers. Besides, he always provided you with the most thoughtful and personable gifts, so was it really so bad? Quality vs quantity, after all. He'd be sure that you would never know about him going behind your back to scare the life out of any teenage boy who so much as looked your way. One instance would have been in PE when the boys were having their typical "locker talk." Caleb wasn't one to join in on such conversations... until you were brought up one day. Some dumb boy would talk about checking you out and Caleb would immediately chime in, "keep her out of your filthy conversation. If I hear anyone say anything demeaning about her, they're going to regret it. Got it?" The boys would be wide eyed and agree not to speak about you. Even if there were some jocks involved, they knew better than to try to one-up someone with Caleb's stature. Not only was he a well-liked and high-achieving student, he was very athletic and a fairly large guy. Caleb also intercepted any guy who tried making a move on you. At one point, you had a sweet guy start to show a liking towards you. You expressed your disappointment to Caleb when this guy suddenly avoided you after his feelings were admitted to you. Caleb would just shrug his shoulders and say, "his loss, pipsqueak." Meanwhile, he'd secretly be proud of himself for scaring the poor guy off after Caleb posed a light-hearted threat at him. "So, you like her?" The guy would confirm and Caleb would nod thoughtfully before adding, "then you need to stop. She's not for you to have." He'd smile politely but his eyes would be sharp as daggers, "Kay?" The guy would take the hint real fast and run.

As a college student, Caleb has some good friends from the Aerospace Academy. One of the boys would say something about the "pretty girl in Caleb's photos" on his moment posts. Caleb wouldn't respond much to this, though he would say something if they followed your profile. "Don't be weird," he'd warn. When meeting you for the first time, they'd be chivalrous. Afterwards, they would definitely tease Caleb for not letting them have a chance with you. He'd roll his eyes at this but would definitely need to take his frustrations out later, whether it be through working out or diving into his schoolwork to distract himself. It bothers him that others see how precious and pretty you are. On the one hand, it makes him proud to know and be so close to such a beautiful and lovely person. On the other hand, he wished he lived in a world where it was just the two of you so no one else could come in between you. His anxieties would only heighten once he thought about the potential pursuers you had at your own college. His head hurt as much as his heart just thinking about it.

As a colonel, Caleb would have strong jealousy towards the multiple men in your life. When he finds out how close you've grown with Zayne after the explosion, he'd feel regretful. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, especially as he harbored the guilt of causing you such pain from disappearing and having you believe him dead. Once he learns about your partnership with Xavier and how he's neighbors with you, he'd feel annoyed. He wouldn't like how often you'd need to work with Xavier, and now you two could even walk home together or see each other at your own apartment complex whenever? Ugh. Frustrating. Rafayel would get on his nerves as well, making his temper flare up. Why do you even need to be around this famous artist? Especially one with a bounty. He would not like the messages he'd see on your phone from Rafayel. He'd contemplate blocking his number on your phone but didn't have a good enough excuse to... so he simmered with anger silently. Sylus is by far his least favorite person you're associated with, though. Being in cahoots with the leader of Onichynus only spelt out trouble in his mind. He would chastise you on the sort of company you keep. He'd be adamant about knowing your whereabouts and to never go into the N109 Zone without him knowing of your exact location and an itinerary of what you'd be doing and who you'd be seeing. This is only because you refused to have him escort you himself since this was "Hunter business" and you could handle yourself... which he highly doubted, but he knew better than to belittle you now that you were an adult and a capable Deepspace Hunter. At the end of the day, Caleb just wants you safe and the only way he can curb his anxieties is by keeping you under his watch and care as often as possible.

Though the man is endearing, he can be downright suffocating. But why wouldn't you want to drown in all the love and care he showers you under? MC doesn't always realize just how deep his love runs for her.

[1ckyros1e]

need a dad who’ll tuck me in like i’m still his baby girl, even though i’m in my 20s after fucking my pussy full of my siblings

need a mum who’ll always make sure i’m well fed and growing and healthy by breastfeeding me until my poor little tummy is tight and swollen and she has to fingerfuck me better

need a big bro who lets me come with him and his friends whilst they hang out in the basement playing video games and getting me so high i don’t even object as they all take turns with my pretty little fuckholes

need a big sis who helps me feel prettier by doing my makeup which will all be ruined when she just can’t take it anymore and pounds me with her girl dick until i cry off my mascara

need cousins who come over to visit for a few days to stay in my room and have a sleepover like when we were kids except this time they take turns filling my holes until my sheets are stained with cum and my womb is full to bursting

need a family tree where everyone’s really tender and caring especially when they all use me in their own way <3

[ladysharmaa]

Wild Hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. The air was still, quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of Evelyn’s breathing. She was just beginning to wake, her mind still caught between the remnants of a dream and the gentle touch threading through her hair.

Cool, feather-light fingers were running through her hair, tracing absentminded patterns against her scalp. She stirred slightly, sighing as she leaned into the touch, reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep just yet.

“Morning, darlin’.” a familiar, velvety voice drawled above her.

Evelyn’s lips curled into a sleepy smile before she even opened her eyes. “Mmm… Jasper?”

She finally blinked up at him, his golden eyes watching her with an unreadable expression, though his lips held the faintest ghost of a smile. His hand never stopped moving, fingertips brushing against her cheek before returning to her hair.

“You were mumblin’ in your sleep again,” he murmured. “Something about… peach pie?”

The demigod let out a soft laugh, reaching up to place her hand over his. “You’re making that up.”

Jasper chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that made her heart flutter. “Maybe, but I could listen to you talk in your sleep all day. It's cute. I like watchin’ you sleep.”

Evelyn playfully swatted at his arm, though her strength was nothing compared to his. “That’s creepy.” Eve teased, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her words. "You're turning in Edweirdo. At least I know you are watching me sleep, poor Bella."

However, she knew what he meant. Unlike her, Jasper didn’t need rest, didn’t need to close his eyes and surrender to dreams. Instead, he spent the quiet hours of the night simply being there — watching over her, lost in his own thoughts while she lay curled against him, sometimes reading a book. Emmett tried many times to get him to play videogames with him, but he preferred being next to Evelyn. Hearing her heartbeat, soothing her when she started to have a nightmare.

“You’re too good to me,” she whispered, fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “It’s unfair, really.”

His smile softened, and something tender flickered in his gaze. “I don’t think you realize just how much you do for me, Lyn.”

She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue, and he exhaled, though it wasn’t necessary. His hand cupped her cheek now, his thumb brushing over her lower lip with infinite care, as if she were something delicate, something precious.

“You make me feel human,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “You make all of this—” his other hand gestured vaguely to himself, “—seem less like a curse and more like a blessing.”

Evelyn’s throat tightened, her heart aching at the sincerity in his words. Without thinking, she lifted herself slightly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “You’re not a curse, Jasper,” she murmured against his skin. “You never were. We have eternity together.”

Jasper let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment as if to absorb the warmth of her touch. When he opened them again, the love in his gaze was unmistakable.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, brushing his nose against hers, “you sure do know how to make a man weak.”

Evelyn only smiled, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer. “Good thing you’re the strongest man I know.”

He laughed softly, tucking her into his chest, and for a moment, the world was quiet again. Just the two of them tangled in soft sheets, whispering promises that stretched beyond lifetimes.

"Have you talked to Edward about yesterday?" Evelyn broke the silence. She didn't want to get up, but knew that there were urgent matters that needed their attention.

"Let's not talk about him." Jasper said tensely.

Evelyn stretched before slipping out of bed, Jasper’s hand lingering at her waist as if reluctant to let her go. “Come on, grumpy. Let’s see what chaos awaits downstairs.”

They made their way to the living room, where the rest of the Cullens were already gathered. The atmosphere was tense, though Emmett was the first to break the silence with a playful grin. “Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds. You two finally decided to grace us with your presence?”

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she flopped onto the couch beside Alice. “You’re just jealous Jasper likes me more.”

Emmett gasped in mock offense, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Eve! I thought we had something special.”

Jasper smirked, wrapping an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders. “Can’t compete with me, brother.”

Edward, leaning against the fireplace, cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. His gaze met Evelyn’s, and he shifted uncomfortably. “Evelyn… I wanted to apologize for what happened with Bella. I know it was reckless. The last thing I wanted was for you to also get hurt.”

Evelyn tilted her head, studying him before finally nodding. “You did what you thought was right. And this cut is nothing. It's already healing. I'm a demigod, remember?”

Emmett snorted. “Yeah, he's just saying that because Jasper is scary as fuck when it comes to Evie here."

"Language." Rosalie scolded.

Emmett's eyes widened, immediately turning to the woman with an apology on the tip of his tongue. The rest of the family laughed, lightening the mood a little. Jasper squeezed Evelyn’s hand, and she leaned into him, knowing that no matter what happened, they would always have each other.

Alice got up to sit on Lucas' lap, who had just arrived with Carlisle from hunting. Along the way, her eyes glazed over and the rest of the family waited patiently for her vision to end. "We can't go to school today. It's going to be too sunny."

"No!" Evelyn groaned dramatically, pretending to faint at Rosalie, who playfully pushed her off of her. Evelyn rolled her eyes in his direction. "Rude. What am I going to do without you guys to entertain me?"

Jasper watched his mate's theatrics with a smirk on his lips and complete adoration in his eyes.

"You're gonna have fun, Eve, I've seen it!" Alice informed, giggling as Eve made a pout. Jasper hoped she would never hold that against him, or she would have whatever she asked for in a matter of seconds without him being able to refuse her anything.

"Fine, I'll go to school. I'll take the opportunity to talk to Bella, try to understand what's going on in her head."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Jasper ended up taking her to school, having to wear a cap and dark sunglasses. Still, to be careful, he left Eve a little earlier, making sure no one could see him.

Before she got out of the car, she turned to him shyly, "You look really good."

"Thank you, darlin'." he whispered, slowly approaching her, their faces getting closer and closer. The blonde's breath caught in her throat and her heart began to beat faster, "You also look beautiful."

Jasper turned his cap back so as not to hit the demigod's forehead, and at that moment, she felt like she was about to faint. Unable to hold it in any longer, she placed her hands on the vampire's cheeks and pulled him into a burning kiss.

When they pulled away, she placed a small kiss on the corner of Jasper's mouth, and opened the car door to get out with a small wave. The blond was completely in a trance, and if he were human he would be sure his heart would be beating so fast it could come out of his chest.

Evelyn didn't find Bella the whole morning. However, during lunch, as she walked to the tables outside, she saw Bella’s intense gaze locked on her. As soon as the blonde sat down, Bella walked to the table and sat down. The brunette leaned forward, as if she was telling a secret. “I need to talk to you.”

“Let me guess. About Edward?”

Bella nodded vigorously. “I saw him, Eve. He was across the parking lot, and then — he was there. He stopped the car with his bare hands! That’s not normal.”

Evelyn took a slow sip of her drink, buying herself time. “Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.”

Bella frowned. “Evelyn, I know what I saw.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Maybe you saw what you think you saw.”

Bella groaned, frustration clear in her expression. “You know something. Don’t you?”

Evelyn gave a small, knowing smile. “Bella, sometimes things aren’t as simple as they seem.”

The human narrowed her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

Bella huffed, but Evelyn could see the curiosity burning behind her eyes. This wasn’t over. Thankfully, they were joined by their friends, interrupting their conversation. Jessica sat on the table, enjoying the sun's rays while Angela sat next to Evelyn.

"The Cullens aren't coming?" Jessica asked.

"No." Evelyn said, even if she knew that her friend already knew the answer to that question.

"Why aren't they coming?" Bella asked curiously.

"Whenever the weather's nice, the Cullens disappear. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen yank them out for, like, hiking and camping and stuff. I tried that with my parents. Not even close. Eve sometimes goes with them."

"Why didn't you go today?"

"I don't like to go all the time, Bella, they deserve to spend time alone as a family. Sometimes I join them, other times I don't. It's not that deep." Evelyn made up an excuse.

"That's really interesting, but hear this!" Angela interrupted, clearly extremely happy with something. "I'm going to prom with Eric. I just asked him. I took control."

She hugged Bella happily while Evelyn said, "That's amazing, Angela. You two are so cute together!"

"Are you sure you have to fo out of town, Bella?" Angela asked with a pout.

"Oh yeah, it's a little family thing."

“We have to go shopping in Port Angeles after school,” Jessica said, her hand blocking the sun so she could look at her friends. “I need something new before all the good dresses are cleaned out.”

Evelyn laughed. “Alright, alright. I’m in. Are you also coming, Bella?"

"Sure." she mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she remained silent and let the others continue sharing their ideas of what dress they were thinking of wearing.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Later, as they wandered through racks of shimmering fabrics and elegant silhouettes in a Port Angeles store, the conversation turned a predictable turn. Angela nudged Evelyn with a knowing smirk. “So… Jasper is kind of insanely in love with you, huh?”

Jessica twirled a dress hanger between her fingers, sighing dramatically. “It’s honestly unfair how cute you two are together. Like, does he even look at anyone else when you’re around?”

Evelyn grinned, her fingers ghosting over a velvet gown. “He’s just… Jasper. He makes everything feel special.”

From outside the store, a group of boys was passing through when they saw them trying the dresses. They knocked on the window to cath the attention of the girls. One of them whistled. “Hey, ladies, need some help picking something out?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Ignore them.”

"That's disgusting." Bella, suddenly looking thoughtful, turned to Evelyn. “I think I’m gonna head to the bookstore.”

Evelyn grabbed her bag. “Wait, I’ll go with you. Meet you later at the restaurant.”

They ended up finding the library where Bella wanted to go, Evelyn looking at the books there while the brunette looked for the specific book that was supposedly very important. Eve was already getting tired of finding answers to the Swan girl's questions, and it didn't go unnoticed that the book she wanted to buy was about ancient legends.

When they finally left, the two wandered through unfamiliar streets, the restaurant nowhere in sight. The sky had darkened slightly, casting long shadows over the pavement. Bella frowned. “I think we’re lost.”

Before they could figure out where to go, the same boys from earlier appeared, smirking. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” one said. “Need a ride?”

Evelyn stepped protectively in front of Bella, her jaw tightening. “We’re fine, thanks.”

Another chuckled, stepping closer. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Bella gripped Evelyn’s arm, whispering, “We need to go. Now.”

The tallest boy took another step forward, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You sure? Seems like you’re a little lost.”

Evelyn exhaled sharply, keeping her voice steady. “I said we’re fine.”

As they turned to walk away, the boys exchanged glances before following. The sound of footsteps behind them sent a chill down Evelyn’s spine. Her grip on Bella tightened. “Just keep walking,” she muttered.

But deep down, she knew they wouldn’t be left alone so easily.

As they turned to walk away, one of the boys reached out and grabbed Evelyn’s wrist. Instinct kicked in. With a sharp twist, she yanked her arm free and shoved him back with enough force to make him stumble.

The air shifted. The playful sneers turned to something darker.

“Feisty one, huh?” another boy muttered before lunging at her.

Evelyn barely had time to shove Bella aside before the fight erupted. One swung at her, but she ducked, delivering a swift kick to his knee. He collapsed with a curse, and she turned just in time to block another attack. Her demigod strength sent the second boy tumbling backward, but there were too many of them.

“Bella, run!” Evelyn shouted, stopping one of the man from grabbing Bella's arm. The demigod pushed her towards the alleyway. “Go!”

Bella hesitated, eyes wide with panic. “I can’t—”

“Now!” Evelyn barked, dodging another punch. Bella turned and sprinted into the night. "Get help!"

A rough hand tangled in Evelyn’s shirt, yanking her back. She spun, throwing an elbow into the attacker’s gut. The fabric of her shirt ripped as another boy grabbed at her, and she growled, slamming her fist into his jaw.

Breathing hard, she backed up, readying herself for another wave—when the roar of an engine split the night.

Two cars screeched to a stop, their headlights illuminating the scene. The doors flew open. Edward and Jasper.

A low growl rumbled from Jasper’s chest, his golden eyes dark with fury as he took in the sight of Evelyn standing amidst the gang of men, her shirt torn, her fists clenched.

Her hair was messy, but other than that she was brimming with confidence and anger at the behavior of men who couldn't take no for an answer. But seeing his mate with her bra visible and knuckles bruised from the force of her punches made the vampire see red. His protective side yearned to kill those humans slowly and watch them suffer.

"Edward, Bella is somewhere over there. Go get her." Evelyn warned him, watching as he immediately ran to the girl. Eve couldn't hear them, but she could see Edward leading the brunette to his car and driving off, knowing the couple could handle the situation.

Jasper locked eyes with the closest man still standing. His posture was tense, all his muscles contracting in anger. He placed himself protectively in front of Evelyn, not allowing any more danger to come to her. First, they would have to go through him. “You’ve made a grave mistake.”

The air seemed to vibrate as Jasper took a single step forward, predatory, lethal. Fear rippled through the group, their earlier bravado crumbling as they took an unconscious step back.

"Wathever, this isn't worth it for this crazy bitch."

Evelyn closed her eyes with a sigh, knowing that this was now the tip of the iceberg for Jasper. Evelyn grabbed his arm to stop him from moving forward, feeling his muscles relax ever so slightly at her touch.

The vampire looked over his shoulder at her, his gaze softening at her apprehensive look. "Wait for me in the car. I promise I won't lose control."

Obviously, Evelyn didn't do that but stayed behind him in case she needed to intervene. With controlled but precise force, Jasper drove his fist into the nearest man’s stomach. The man gasped, crumpling to the pavement, groaning in pain. His friends scrambled to pick him up, their fear thick in the air.

“That’s mercy,” Jasper said darkly, his Southern drawl dripping with menace. “You don’t deserve it. Do this again, and I will know. I will kill you.”

Evelyn watched hesitantly as Jasper turned back to her, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” His voice was softer now, but his eyes still burned with barely restrained rage.

“I’m fine, Jasper,” Evelyn murmured, placing a hand on his chest. “It’s over.”

He took a slow breath, trying to steady himself. “They touched you.” His fists were still clenched. “They hurt you.”

“I handled it, I trained my all life to fight monsters. I can handle drunk men.” she reassured him gently. “And then you showed up.”

Jasper’s jaw tightened, his gaze scanning her for any injuries. “You shouldn’t have had to handle it alone.”

Evelyn sighed, stepping closer and resting her forehead against his. He was shaking, Evelyn didn't even know If that was possible. Maybe she was the one shaking. “I’m okay. Bella’s okay. That’s what matters.”

Jasper exhaled, finally allowing some of the tension to leave his body. “Bella is a magnet for danger. Please, stop hanging out with her alone.”

She smiled softly. “Sure.”

Jasper pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before leading her back to the car. “Let’s go home. If I wasn't immortal I would have died by heart attack by now.”

[thatoneevanfan]

Remus Lupin x popular girl!reader

In which the popular girl starts taking interest in her tutor.

warnings: lowkey bimbo reader, oblivious Remus, cussing, tension, lowkey suggestive

—————————————————————————————————————

YOUR POV:

“Ughhh” you groan as you slam your head against your desk. “I don’t even know what you see in him. Isn’t he like a nerd?” Your friend, who was laying uninterested on your bed, reading some fashion magazine. “Well… Kind of but that’s what makes him so hot. He’s hot and he doesn’t even know it! Such a turn on.” You daydream.

“You sound like you’d fuck his brains out.” She chuckles plainly, barely leaving any actual emotion in her words.

“well that’s the thing. I WOULD. If only he gave me the chance…” You whine out frustrated while trying to once again regain your focus on your potions essay.

“Also what the fuck is this essay. I don’t get anything. Potion class sucks.” You groan out dramatically.

“Why don’t you just ask your wonderful man to tutor you?” She rolls her eyes sarcastically. You bite your lips focused but your demeanor changes at her suggestion.

“Wait a minute… YOURE BLUDDY BRILLIANT.” You shout out excitedly, jumping over to the bed and placing a smooch on her forehead.

“What? I wasn’t being serious Y/n! Where are you going?” She yells after you as you skip outside the dormitory, leaving her dumbfounded on your bed. Quickly you run back into the room and grab her along, to help with your plan.

—————————————————————————————————————

No Pov:

He walks into the library looking for his favorite book on one of the shelves. Suddenly he hears sighs coming from behind one of the shelves. With much curiosity and worry he decided to go look into the noise.

As he walks around the he spots you.

Well and your friend.

He watches as you dramatically sigh and whine over an essay. He pretends to look for a book to continue eaves dropping.

“This essay is so hard. If only I had someone that could tutor me.” He hears you, once again, sigh dramatically. Any less oblivious person would have instantly noticed your intention, Remus however was way too oblivious to understand your intent. Innocently he turns around and asks you if you need a tutor.

“Well there’s just noooo way i Could ask that of you…” You sigh once again longer than you should have.

He however assures you that he would love to help you. He is a prefect after all.

You happily agree and plan a time and place to meet.

_____________________________________

NO POV:

Happily you start skipping over to your agreed upon place. You grin to yourself as you look down on your outfit. Your school skirt, way too short. Your out of school shirt, way too much cleavage. Perfect.

“Hiii Remus” You smile innocently at the poor boy who is still completely oblivious.

“Hi Y/n, so i’ve looked at your task and basically you have to write down what happens through out the experiment. Lucky for you I have connections so we get to use the potions classroom and the stuff in it.” He smiles proudly.

“Oh wow remus! That’s great, I wonder what i would have done without you.” You exclaim dramatically.

He blushes furiously at your words.

You both make your way to the classroom to start working on the project.

_____________________________________

“Sooo you crush this unicorn hair, mix it in with the hardsnail slime and the water, then it turns into this white thicker liquid.” He explains with full concentration.

“Mhmm does it?” You giggle at his words like a 14 year old boy. His eyebrows furrow at your reaction as he tries to figure out what was so funny. “Why did you- Oh. Y/n that’s-“ He cuts him self of with silence as he remains speechless. You sit quiet with a proud grin.

“anyway… you continue by stirring.” he instructs with a stutter.

—————————————————————————————————————

The awkwardness continues for another hour, as you manage to make everything he says have a sexual undertone, as well as occasionally brushing against him.

However something finally makes him crack.

The liquid you both had made seemed to start bubbling and started splashing. Some of the white liquid splashed onto his face, making it look quite… sexual.

“Now in a different setting i’d think that’s hot.” You smile suggestively.

He takes a sharp breath and looks at you with furrowed brows.

You reach out to wipe it away but he grabs your wrist mid move.

“Y/n.” he exclaims, saying your name like a warning.

You start to feel a little bit embarrassed, feeling rejected.

You apologize and quickly get up to leave, gathering your things.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He once again warns. You look up at him with confusion, slightly blushing at his demanding tone.

You open your mouth to respond but quickly get shut up by him pulling you in for a kiss. You continue to make out for a few seconds before he pulls off for air. He grabs his stuff and walks to the door. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” He grins at you before leaving you there.

You stand there dumbfounded but your mouth quickly turns into a grin.

He totally wants you. You think to yourself proudly.

But… what will the next step be?

[peachglazewrites]

soo i’m on the girls powerlifting team at my school (currently omw to a meet wish me luck) and it got me thinking abt what sports would abby do/how well would she be at powerlifting yk

what sports do you think she would be in 👀

a/n: hey!!! first of all GOOD LUCK AT YOUR MEET OMG??? that's so beyond cool!!

second of all!! I had such a big think about this and I decided to do it as a silly little headcanon post ♡︎ AND THIRD I don't play sports… I played basketball in high school for a few years and that was IT so please excuse my poor poor googling attempts </3

hope you enjoy!! ♡︎

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1037k

˗ˏˋ𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛ 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ 100% would be into powerlifting I feel like that's hardly a headcanon at this point! We know in canon that she's on the leaderboard for the women's bench press (205lbs btw) in the WLF fitness club, so I feel like she would enjoy deadlifts and squats too!

★ Abby thrives on having a perpetually moving goal. She loves that she always has something to work on and improve, a reason to push herself. She's so incredibly dedicated in what she does, and so I can see her taking this as seriously as she needs to!

★ Abby would be hesitant about getting a coach when she starts out, which can be for a lot of reasons but mostly out of the need to be in control. She hated the idea of having someone else do her numbers and tell her what to do? It's her body, so obviously she knows what she's doing.

★ But after not seeing much progress or struggling with a certain element she tells herself she'll do a single coached session to get over this and that'll be it. But the improvements after one session were enough for her to reconsider, and so after some shopping around she found her current coach and they've been working together since.

: ̗̀➛ 𝚋𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ Abby would pick up boxing when Owen did, joining group sessions. Owen liked it, and found a lot of the benefits in it that he wanted, but kind of fell off with attending sessions and decided to keep up with it somewhat casually. Abby was the complete opposite. She quickly moved from working in a group setting to finding a private studio and trainer, training on a dedicated schedule.

★ She loves the way it makes her feel. Boxing isn't just about the arms, and she lives for the strain and ache in her muscles of her legs and abdomen. It also provides her an outlet, a truly cathartic way of unloading all of her stress and emotions she'd rather not talk about.

★ One of the trainers at the studio pulls her aside one day and asks if she can help out a friend of theirs. He owns a studio downtown that does junior classes, and their regular trainer has called in sick. They need someone to cover. Abby refuses, says absolutely not, but then she learns she'll get paid and eventually she agrees.

★ Surprise surprise, she loves it. There's something about how enthusiastic the kids are, how excited they are to learn and grow. A contagious optimism that kids exude. She's employed within the month.

★ The boys think she's super cool, amazed by her bulk and her broadness. But it's the three girls in the class that make her want to do this, want to be a role model. The way their confidence boosts every class, how they become just as eager to jump in and join as the boys are.

★ One of them runs up to her during a water break one day to show her her arms, flexing in the way an 11 year old thinks flexing works, boasting about how she can feel herself getting stronger-- just like her. That's what breaks Abby, makes her realise that yeah, she can do this. She wants to be someone these kids will look up to.

: ̗̀➛ 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ Now look… I know she's scared of heights, but I honestly think that Lev would introduce the sport to Abby in an attempt to work through her fear of them.

★ Lev's a little speed demon, scrambling and climbing up the rock wall in no time. The first time he convinces Abby to come with him, she stands at the sidelines and calls him a show off. It takes a while but he eventually gets her harnessed up and climbing along the lower sections.

★ It takes an embarrassingly long time in her eyes for to get used to things. The feeling of being so high up, to ignore the vertigo. Lev, as much of a smart ass as he is, helps her through it all, always a few feet above her and goading her on.

★ Lev's number one way to motivate Abby is to prod at her competitive streak, her pride. It works every time, and he gets Abby chasing after him up the wall without her even realising it, cursing and playfully arguing with him the whole way.

★ It's not a sport Abby would ever do by herself, and she somewhat doubts she'd want to do it with anyone but Lev. She doesn't trust anyone to do this kind of thing with, except for Lev. He knows just how to push her, motivate her, talk her down from a panic attack without making her feel embarrassed and like shit afterwards.

okay here me out... this is next one is SUPER self indulgent but I literally can't stop thinking about it....

: ̗̀➛ 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚢

★ Abby 100% is the team captain, and she runs that shit like it's her actual job. Not just in training, but with everything that comes with being captain. Developing rosters, taking care of injured teammates, organising team bonding activities, helping out with uniforms.

★ Mel, Nora, Leah, and Yara are also all on the team, and when the five of them get lined up together for a jam it's carnage in the rink. They tear it UP.

★ Abby really enjoys it, as it works out parts of her body that she wouldn't prioritise otherwise. The strain in her muscles after practice or a game makes her feel good, accomplished.

★ Abby also enjoys and cherishes the team aspect of it, even though she's a bit of a hardass and has these girls working HARD. She cares a lot about her team, and will do anything for them. She has a bad habit of letting rink-talk get to her sometimes, but that comes from her being so competitive and fiercely protective of her team.

Why do I want to write a roller derby au… team captain Abby and Reader who goes to every game of theirs because she has a huuuge crush on her, but doesn't realise that Abby spots her in the audience every single time and feels the same way!!! Someone finish all my WIPs for me I need to write this…

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Reader going with Catwoman to steal shit because she can't afford the Gojo and Suguru Nendoroid

Lol, that's honestly so cute. Selina Kyle is like that cool, rich aunt for the reader. If the reader doesn't have a ride after school, she'll pull up in a slick black car to pick them up, or they'll just hang out together. She'd be like,

"Come, darling, this is girls' night; you don't need to tell Bruce," she would say in the sweetest tone, which made you all giddy inside. Then the two of you end up busting banks and jewelry stores Selina would put a little necklace on you and say

"This is perfect for your skin tone; you can never go wrong with sapphire," and you would start giggling, getting all embarrassed. It's great to get a compliment from a woman, but an older Black woman is even better (I'm basing Selina off the Batman movie).

"When you told me we had the best heist, I was expecting priceless artifacts or paintings, but this?" Selena picked up a little Nendoroid of Yuji.

"Oh, but come on, these are priceless as well," you say, grabbing as many boxes as you can hold. You looked like a kid on Christmas, and all Selena could do was smile.

"Here, this one is for you," You pulled out a little Gojo cat keychain and put it on her wipe, giving it a little style.

"And lucky we match now!" You said, having a little cat, Megumi, on your belt.

You caused that poor woman to fall to her knees.

[kirby-derb]

Te...teehee? I dunno what I would name this so I'm going to call it

Grinding Gears

Summary thingy: As a mechanic in the undercity you had often found yourself with some rather odd jobs, fixing up a bomb, and bio-weapons, though you were never quite ready to ask for an arm. Though you did love a challenge. Now years after you still find yourself looking for parts.

Pairings Ig? Reader x Sevika, Jinx is in here but she's like 14 so she and reader got a fun little friend/mentor dynamic

“How good are you at artificial limbs?” 

   That…wasn’t a new question per say, though it was an odd situation. 

   One moment you were sitting in your shop fixing up what remained of someone’s prized gun and the next you wake up and you’re in some dingy room, eye’s not yet adjusted to the lack of light or the burning sensation in the back of your head. As you try to get your bearings you hear the question asked again, this time you see someone step from the darkness that surrounds you. 

     You knew this one, somewhat. “Silco? You’re one of Silco’s men. Holy fucking-” You try to sit up in the chair only to find your hands were tied behind you, so you yell into the darkness, “SILCO WHAT THE FUCK MAN? I am just your number one supplier and this is the thank you I get? Well fuck you too!” 

    As if on cue the man you were screaming for came out from the darkness, his steps slow as he looked at you, the same unreadable expression across his face. However, what caught your attention was the little girl that trailed behind her, so you stare at the little thing for a moment, and he must have caught on to your staring because he spoke again. “Answer the question.” 

  Your eyes flicker up to him and then back to the little girl, who stood behind him as if he was some shield, better than the man you knew him to be. “Since when-nevermind. Limbs? Uh,” You tilt your head back, eyes staring at the ceiling, only looking forward when a droplet of water snapped you out of the trance and you look back to him, “I don’t know.” 

   “What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I mean I don’t know until I’m staring at what I’m supposed to fix, how much is left? Nerves, muscle, bone, I don’t know what to fix if I can’t see the fuck up.” You grumble out, eyes pretty much on the little girl alone, the bright blue hair in a neat french braid and clothes a bit too big for her- but they were new. Poor thing looked terrified. The silence crept in and you look back to Silco, “Does this have to do with the explosion on-” 

   “We are not talking about that.” He interpreted, leaning over to one of the men, whispering something you couldn’t quite catch. 

   “Copy that, fuckface.” You smile when he shoots you a glare, and you adjust in the chair again, “Gonna let me go? Cause ya know, I do need my hands to actually do my job.” 

   Maybe to your surprise, or dismay, he nudged the little girl forward, her trembling hands holding a set of keys. Her steps tripping over the other, eyes set on you as if you would pounce on her the second she looked away, you wanted to say something, anything- maybe because you knew what it felt like to be scared and alone, to be forced to trust a person she would grow up and realize she shouldn’t have. But you keep your mouth shut, hearing the cuffs unlock and you wait for the little girl to retreat back to her safe inner circle before you look at Silco again. The look in your eyes saying a thousand words, and he seemed to catch on, as he only looked at you for a moment before looking away. 

    You and Silco had been partners since before he became….Silco, you were younger than the rest of the group back then, taken under the wing. Yet since the rebellion and the deaths of the innocent, you had drifted from friends to mildly cordial business partners. As your talents included fixing just about anything that needed to be fixed and an inordinate ability to talk your way out of any situation, that and a few Higher up on topside seemed to be hung up on you, so it made shipments easy. You clear your throat as you slowly move to stand, “Tell me about the job.” 

   “It’s a prosthetic, it needs to be fully functional. Arm, there’s nothing till the shoulder.”

   “We have a doctor monitoring her condition, she’s stable.” Silco slowly sits down in a chair, the little girl that seemed to follow him sitting down by his feet. “How much do you want?” 

If your jaw wasn’t on the floor the pure shock and distaste in your eyes was obvious, you blink a few times, “I can make a prosthetic, easy peasey; but a fully functional one? Do you realize the writing and the time and the-shit man, that fucker would be heavy-”  

  “She can handle it.”

The next words on your lips fade and you suddenly realize what was missing from this whole picture, the huge lack of the person you probably would’ve noticed first. With a small tilt of your head you whisper, “Where is she?” 

    Your breathing was slow, your eyes watching him move but nothing else in your body would move, “I-...” The words were in your throat but nothing else would speak, “I…Let me see her.”  

  “I can’t do that.” 

You spin on your heel and look at him, words coming out as venom, “Let me see her or I am going to charge so high your fucking daughter will still be paying your fucking debt after I kill you.”

“Which. Room?”

   “It is not a good-”

“Which room?”

  “She’s drugged up-” 

   “Second on the left.” 

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  You considered yourself to be a very controlled and easy going woman, you didn’t do things on a spur of the moment emotion and you had a tendency to do the wrong thing simply because the right thing would mean you would have to acknowledge some emotion you were trying to ignore. However, as you sat in that uncomfortable chair staring at that infuriating, stubborn, cocky and just overall horrible woman, all you could do is act on the emotions in your chest. The nail bed on your left hand picked raw and your eyes so focused on the rise and fall of her chest, words harsh whenever someone would get too close. 

    “You’re a doctor?” 

The poor man looked even more scared than the little girl, his hands and legs shackled together, eyes holding that lovely topsider gleam. Though it was slowly fading, as Zaun would probably do that to a person. The scrubs he wore were dirty from probably being forced down here for days on end, and his family was probably already grieving. Awful that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Emergency medicine.” 

   The harsh gaze was then fixed on him, “How is she?” 

“The blast cartigized the wound, so I am not worried about any blood loss, I am just making sure it doesn’t get infected…as this or the supplies I’m given are exactly sterile-” he looked back to you and then cleared his throat, “You undercity people are very scary, you are aware of this?” 

  “You think I’m scary? Wait till Sev wakes up.” You scoff out a laugh, leaning back in the chair and then you tilt your head with a small sniffle that would never admit to be your attempt to keep the tears from your eyes. “Vitals though…stable?” 

   The man nodded to your words, “Heart Rate is a little slow, but I gave her meds for the pain and they can cause that, BP is good, she’s on room air…like I said, I’m just wanting to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He cleared his throat after a moment, going to grab another bag of saline, “And you are to the Patient? I mean, HIPPA doesn’t exist here but I still-” 

   “Fuck-buddy.” You snip out, giving him a look, after all- that was just about all you could summarize your relationship. “Really friendly fuck-buddies.”  He looked utterly flabbergasted by your reply so you continued, “You don’t have those in topside? You Piltie’s too good for a ol fashioned good time?” You giggle to his stammering reply brushing off the words, “Anyway, when will she wake up?” 

     As if on cue the voice of the woman that had swallowed up your entire reality came through the someone silence of the room, “Hard to sleep with your yapping.” 

 To say you were on your feet within a second would be the understatement of the century, and you slowly approach the bed, trying to laugh the worry across your expression away, though that was a febrile attempt. “My bad, my bad, I’ll keep my trap shut.” You had seen Sevika hurt more times than you care to admit, and you were used to the grimacing look of pain she very often had on her face- though nothing quite compared to the look that was currently cursing your eyes. 

   She probably could probably see the way your eyes took in her state, the way your eyes never focused on one spot for too long and how your breathing was faster than her own, how you held your hands to your chest. “It doesn’t hurt.” She tried to comfort, though the grunt she gave as she tried to sit up did nothing but the opposite. 

 On instinct your hand carefully moves to her shoulders, touch ghostly against the bandaged one, “Let-lets not sit up, huh. Gotta get that fixed up so I can get ya a new arm, mm?” 

    Sevika stared at you for a moment, maybe the drugs were messing with her impulse control, “Smart and pretty. Gonna get me a new arm and then what, marry me?” 

   You blink and then look to the doctor, “What the fuck did you give her?” 

The doctor looked like he might just drop dead from a heart attack, “Just basic painkillers.” 

   “So she’s…high?” 

   She stared up at you for a long moment, sure, drugs could mess with her perception of things but she was still very much in control of what she said- somewhat, that’s what she liked to tell herself, plus- right now? She could say just about anything and face no repercussions for it, as- after all- she was just ‘high���. “You called me pretty.” 

 Sevika interjected in the conversation, “No, I’m not.”  

  You look back down at her, your frown ever so evident on your face, “You are, pretty girl. Very very high.” 

   “I did, didn’t I?” You say quietly, vision growing a bit blurry the longer you looked at her, carefully brushing your fingers across her face, taking in every last cut or burn that wasn’t there the last time you saw her, “I’m afraid I just happen to care about you enough to think you’re pretty.” 

  “Don’t cry,” her words were hushed, her hand coming to cover yours, “It’s not bad enough for you to cry, sunshine.”  

You sniffled up what you considered to be something unrelated to tears and you scrunched up your face in distaste, “You quite literally lost your arm, as-as your-...” You falter, “As someone who cares about you, I think I have a right to be a little worried.” 

   “You don’t have a title.” 

   “You’re right,” She said in reply, her eyes met yours as she moved her hand to the nape of your neck.  

“I….am?” That was first, normally once Sevika found a hill she liked she would die on it, figuratively and quite literally. After all she just lost her arm for a hill that was bound to crumble and swallow her whole eventually, though everyone else but her could see that. 

Huh? Oh. 

   Oh

“Yeah, I don’t and…and that’s okay, that-that's how you like it, baby,” You were trying to remind her, before she said something that not…high out of her mind version of Sevika would resent you later for, “That’s how you like it.”

   She grunts, “No it’s not.” 

“It is. You just can’t remember.” 

   “I remember just fine,” She said harshly, her eyes meeting yours, she almost seemed disgusted with your attempts to deny whatever affection she was trying to show, “And you’re my girl, you know that.” 

  “I do know that.” 

“And I-” 

   “And you’re my pretty lady, toughest one in all of the undercity- now cmon, you should rest, yeah? I got that…gotta get your arm ready for you.” You look to the doctor, “If I hear you so much as as poke her wrong-” 

   “My life is over, I will…I’ll die.” He interjected, eyes wide. 

“Atta boy.” 

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“I don’t understand why it won’t go off.” Powder- or Jinx? Had grumbled from her spot beside your workbench. You weren’t sure which was the girl's name, so you had referred to calling her ‘kiddo’ seemed like an appropriate name, even though the girl was closer to fourteen. The girl was good with machines, as you noticed from your inordinate amount of time spent with Silco. 

    A moment passes before you stabilize the hextech core, a relatively new technology that you were still trying to grasp, and you pull away, lifting up your visor so look at the small device she was working on. With a small hum you motion for her to sit beside you and she did, setting the device in front of you, bright colors painted along it. Carefully you pick it up, spinning the circular device around and then you look at the girl, who had her head in her hands, watching you. 

    “Well, um, kiddo- what is it supposed to do?” 

“Go boom.” When she saw your unamused expression she spoke again, “Explode.” 

   “Ah.” You set the device down a bit further away from you, “What type of explosion are we talkin about? Cause i’ve seen the color bombs you put on Sev-” 

   Powder grins broadly at the mention, “I remember. Heard it scared the shit out of you.” 

“It wasn’t exactly fun to have bright neon pink all over the room-” You stop your words and clear your throat, “Wasn’t fun, kiddo. If you wanna play a prank gotta cue me in on it. Gonna give me a heart attack, kay?” 

   “Mmkay.” She chirps and then nudges the device back to you, “Fix it?”

 You frown as you take the device back, the thick gloves not doing you any favors, so you take one of them out and take off one of the shells of it, looking inside- it took about a millionth of a second to see what was wrong- but you had also been doing this for a while. So you hum, “Ya know I-” You were cut from your train of thought when you heard the door open, and you only gave a quick glance behind you before you knew who it was. “Actually, kiddo, it’s all you, you’re smart. Find what’s wrong and then tell me, and I’ll show you how to fix it.” 

   The girl groaned dramatically as you swung around on the bench, bending to where she saw everything upside down to see you walk towards Sevika, “Oh gross, I think this is much more interesting than your cripple girlfriend-uck!”

 You turned Sevika away from the girl before she had the chance to make some snip back, practically dragging her over to the other workbench. Once you thought you were a safe distance from Powder, at the very least where the girl wouldn’t have an easy time eavesdropping, you spoke. Crossing your arms over your chest as you look up at her, “I figure this isn’t a social call.” 

  Your words were  confirmed when she reached over to the prosthetic, which till that point was covered by a hood, the model that took you two months to build, and set it down on the counter. To that your eyes go between her and the now ruined piece of machinery, your mouth slightly agape. 

   “Ooooh Sevika broke your arrrrm, is she in the dog house? She’s so in the dog house.” Powder chipped from the banister above the workbench, how she got there, neither of you knew. 

   Sevika, for once, ignored the girl and looked back to you, “Have I mentioned I like the-whatever you changed about your hair? I like it.” 

   Your eyes slowly go to her, “I didn’t change my hair.” 

“You didn’t? Fuck.” 

    “It’s just down.” 

“It’s pretty down, very…pretty.” 

   “Uh-huh.” 

“It just stopped working.” 

    “Before or after you chose to beat someone’s skull in, like I told you not to do because I didn’t place the titanium there yet because the shipment wasn’t in? Did it stop working after you didn’t listen to me, Sevika? Cause yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it, because maybe- as the mechanic, the designer and everything else for this revolutionary piece of machinery, I know what I’m talking about.” 

   There was a silence as you looked at what you consider to be your girlfriend, though titles were never really discussed- hell you fought like an old married couple but everything else was like a newlywed. You cross your arms over your chest as she looks down at you, as if daring her to explain herself. 

   “Yeah it happened after that. Just fix it, sunshine.” She said after a moment, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head before she turned, “Come on, Jinx. Silco wants you.” 

   Powder dropped down onto the desk in front of you, looking up at you as if she was about to ask to stay but she then slid off of the metal and walked to catch up to Sevika, grabbing her satchel and running off into the darkness. 

    With a huff of a laugh you look back to the prosthetic, quickly taking out the load of shimmer that was perfectly placed in the chamber that took you longer than it should to place there and you carefully set it down. The shimmer was unfortunately a needed aspect for the functionality for the device, as without it the connection port and the device would be pressing against the remaining muscle, the nerves, and it would be…agonizing. As you had quickly realized after trying the first prototype. As the shimmer seemed to give the body the last level of adrenaline and…and it numbed it just enough so the pain wouldn’t be overwhelming. 

   It seemed that the shimmer was the only thing intact from the original prosthetic. And you weren’t sure how to feel about that. 

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“You what?” Sevika almost laughed out when she heard you speaking, trying to take off her boots as she sat on your bed. Her small laugh died as she saw the seriousness in your stare and you adjusted the corset like top. 

    You look in your reflection, your skin lacking the liveliness it would gain from being in the sun, yet everything else looked just about right. In the right light and with the proper voice and accent you would go for an average citizen of Piltover.

“I am going up to Topside and I am going to get my supplies so I can fix your prosthetic.” You said as you slipped on the heels, listening to the small clicking noise as you took a few steps away to look at your overall outfit. A skirt that fell to your knees and the light green monochrome with the white accents. Your hair pinned up to a more….Topsider-esk style. 

    “Give me ten minutes.” 

  Once you were content you turned to face her, “Do I look like a Piltie? Do you wanna punch me?” You say with a small smile on your perfectly painted lips.  

Her eyes shamelessly undressed you mentally, and she grunts as she stands up, her hand delicately going to your cheek, “I have a better idea.”

  “I walked straight into that one-um no, I gotta go.” You stand on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to her lips and then turn around to grab your bag, currently it was empty so it was remarkably light. 

“What?” You turn around to her. 

   “You’re not going alone.” 

“Uh, yes. I am.” 

   Sevika frowned at your snipped reply, “What if you get caught? The supplies you need aren’t legal. They’ll throw you in stillwater or…”

    “It’s not safe.”

“And Zaun is?” 

   You give a small laugh and move your hands to her cheeks, “Baby enforcers. They are dumb and they’re probably too scared to look at anyone wrong. 

   You frown, “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it a million times before- And…” a sigh escaped your lips as you slowly walked over to her, setting the bag back down, “You are the toughest lady in Zaun…and you look like it. Plus the Bootcamp enforcer whatever just finished so all new Enforcers on the ground, they don’t know a Zaunite from their ass.”  

Sevika looked flabbergasted by your words she blinked, “You just told me there are  more enforcers up there and you expect me to be comforted?” 

  She frowned as she looked down at you, “I’m still going with you.” 

“You will not. Because If i am not here and you are not here who is going to make sure Powder won’t blow up half of the lanes? She’s getting better at it, so….I wouldn’t put it past her.” When you tried to move away again you felt the charmed necklace that adorned your neck grow tighter, turning around and looking up at your girlfriend, “You’re gonna choke me.”  

“Normally you like it.”

You narrow your gaze, “Mm, are either of us naked? No? Then right now I don’t.” Your hands go to hers, trying to pry her grip from the gold chain, a silly prized possession- something you had stolen when you were little, but it was yours. “Oh my god you’re like a baby- let go.” 

   “One of-” 

    “You can’t make me.”

“What will it take then?” 

“Anything sexual and I will hit you.” 

   She faltered, a frown appearing on her lips, “A kiss.” 

Your expression softened, a small laugh coming from your lips to the somewhat muttered and disgruntled sounding request. You had to admit, sometimes she just had a kicked puppy look about her, something that when you first saw it you thought she was dying- turns out you are one of the only people to see it, “I can do that.” 

   It was silly how you had to adjust to reach her, because by no means were you a small person, you were well built and of average height. But there was always something that made you feel…small. Part of you hated it, the other adored it. Like most kisses shared, it was some level of perverted want and a dance between it and the actual affection trying to be shown. Her hand on the back of your head trying to keep you in place while you attempted to find the good breaking point. Failing at doing so. 

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 With a small gasp you break the kiss, “You still,” A kiss interrupted your words but you pulled away again, eyes dilating at the sight of the dark red lipstick now smeared on her lips, “Can’t come with me.”

“Shut up.” She hissed back, pulled your hair just enough to make your mouth open from the stretcher before leaning over and devouring your lips. 

“You are a very pretty young lady.” You say with a small smile to the enforcer, who was probably only eleven years younger than yourself, handing over the forged identification. 

   “You are…” 

“Missus Mari Korvik.” You replied with the fake name, smiling with the lips that you had just replied the lipstick too as the last coat got aptly smeared away, and you hold Sevika’s arm, “This is my wife, Alexia- I apologize, she’s deaf, you know how that turf war in the southern sides are- oh, my girl fought for so long they finally discharged her after well-” You vaguely motion to her, who looked somewhat normal when you did her makeup and took off the prosthetic port; and you would not be lying if you said you very much enjoyed getting her dressed. 

  The enforcer clears her throat, the dark that probably should’ve been pulled back falling in front of her face, “And what was the cause for your visit to the undercity?” 

   You keep your smile and then you clear your throat, “Oh well, you know…spicing up the marriage. Been together for oh gosh, coming up fifteen years now? Things get dull and day time prices are so much better than-” 

   “Alright Missus and Missus Korvik, you are all signed in, have a wonderful day.” The girl aptly said, handing the small booklets back. 

  Works like a charm. 

After a polite goodbye you walk into the city, steps lively as you look at some of the vendors, eyes going to the jewelry stores and the high fashion. The crowd grew lively as you reached the heart of Piltover. Once there were no enforcers nearby Sevika leaned over to your ear, her words low, “You couldn’t have thought of any other cover?” 

  You hum as you walk to a vendor taking one of the baked goods and tossing him a fake coin in return, though he would never know it was. You break it in half and hold her a portion, “If you won’t marry me then Alexia will be married to Mari. Let a girl dream, Sev.” When she refuses to take the other side you hum and take a bite, looking around. 

    She grunts at that reply, and when you again offer the piece of bread to her, she takes it this next time, as she had a sneaking supposition that you wouldn't stop till she did,  “Where is this guy you’re suppose to meet?” 

   “Mm, the academy.” 

“What.” 

     You look at her and then give a small smile, “He’s a student or something. Super nice guy. I trade some of my blueprints for new hextech gadgets and stuff, the latest thing he unveiled is the small stabilizer thingy? He had his own version but ya know…perspective helps. So he gives me parts and stuff and I give him blueprints.” You shrug off the look she was giving you and you look back to her, “My meeting is at 4. So we have some time.”

      “Oh…lovely.” She grumbles.

Annnnd that is all i have thus far, I am unsure if it will be a series though if even one person asks for another part the chances are very high I will write it. And yeah! I would love some feedback! BYEEEE

[panicbones]

are you ever so locked in to interpreting a characters gender a certain way that you forget that they are, indeed, cis, and end up accidentally referring to them otherwise. sorry yeah i know she isnt trans but i am ever burdened by genius and intellect

[danwhobrowses]

For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable: - Matching messed up hands built for holding - Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton - Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded - Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions - Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells - Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne - Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder - Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne' Use how you will