#willingly looking for them couldn’t be me

[sankta-wraith]

I’m about halfway through season three, and I’d just like to take a moment and look at how losing Rose has changed the Doctor.

First the obvious things: he’s more serious. During his time with Rose, he was mostly cheerful, funny, and generally quite positive. There were a few darker moments, but for the most part he had a pretty sunny personality, especially when he was with Rose. In season three, while he still tries to maintain his happy personality, he occasionally slips into melancholy and his cheerfulness often feels like a bit of a facade. This isn’t to say that there aren’t moments when he’s genuinely happy, but they seem to be far less frequent than the durst two seasons. He smiles less. He doesn’t have as many quips. He’s barely laughed at all. But that’s to be expected. He just lost someone he loved; it makes sense for him to be more withdrawn and sad.

The thing that struck me the most was how reckless he’s become. He’s always been a bit reckless, but he’s also tried to avoid things that will most likely kill him. He might be constantly getting himself into very dangerous situations, but he (almost) always thinks of some way to not die. (I think it’s because he knows that if he dies the Time Lords die with him, but that’s a different post.) In season three, he’s practically suicidal. So far, he’s allowed himself to come dangerously close to death at least five times, some seemingly without expecting to survive.

First was in episode one, when he let the Plasmavore drink his blood so she wouldn’t register as human on the scanner. He had no companion at the time, so he couldn’t have expected anyone to come for him. Even if someone had found him, they would have needed to do a blood transfusion, and since he’s not human it’s unlikely that human blood would save him. (I’m actually not sure how he survived that. Martha gave him CPR, but that didn’t fix the blood loss issue.) Even knowing all of that, he still allowed the Plasmavore to drain his blood without hesitation. He technically could have regenerated, but that didn’t seem to be part of his plan. I’m still not quite sure how regeneration works, but I’m pretty sure he has to be conscious for it to happen, and he was definitely unconscious when Martha found him.

The second time was when the Carrionite did he voodoo doll thing. This is admittedly a weaker example, since he does have two hearts, but I’m not entirely convince that he knew he’s be able to restart his other heart. He can clearly survive with just one heart (at least for a little bit,) but it significantly weakened him and it’s unclear how long he would have survived it. Had he been unable to get both hearts working, he probably would have died later when his remaining heart gave out under the strain, or been finished off later by the Carrionites and unable to defend himself. And yet he seems remarkably unconcerned, even when he realizes what she going to do. This isn’t to say that he wasn’t worried, but maybe not as worried as he should have been.

Third is when he willingly offers himself up to the Daleks, fully expecting them to kill him. This is one of the best examples, because he is 100% convinced that they are going to kill him. He’s so convinced that it actually comes as a shock when they decide not to kill him on the spot. Sacrificing himself makes sense in this situation, but it was a bit shocking how fast he agreed. I had expected to frantically try to come up with a plan, or at least to try fighting, before he decided to sacrifice himself. I certainly hadn’t expected him to straight up tell them to kill him.

Fourth was when he put himself in the direct path of a lightning strike/gamma ray burst on the off chance that some of his DNA would get transferred. Again this is an excellent example because not only did he put himself in its path, he actually held onto a lightning rod and wouldn’t let go for the duration of the gamma ray burst. There’s also the small fact that said lightning rod was on the top of the Empire State Building, and if the lighting and radiation hadn’t killed him a fall probably could’ve. That is literally the definition of suicidal.

The fifth and (so far) final time was when he, once again, sacrificed himself to the Daleks and demanded they kill him. Yes he knew that the Dalek-humans had some Time Lord DNA in them, but he still couldn’t be sure it would be enough. If you still don’t believe that he’s suicidal, I think seeing him stand in a room full of people with lasers/guns and telling them all to kill him should convince you. If even that doesn’t work, then you should consider the fact that the last three all happen in the same episode.

Let it never be said that losing Rose didn’t affect the Doctor.

[paigesbasketball]

Under Oath

Prologue

NEW YORK CITYThe buzz of the city below barely reached the quiet sanctuary of my office, high above the chaos. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a sprawling view of Manhattan, but I was too busy typing away at my desk to notice. At 25, I had accomplished what most could only dream of—an undergraduate degree from Syracuse, a law degree from Yale, and a career as one of New York’s rising legal stars.

I was in the zone, preparing briefs for my next high-profile meeting, when my secretary, Sammy, knocked on the doorframe. “Ms. Johnson, you have a call from UCONN on line two.”

I froze. UCONN. Just hearing the name stirred an old, bitter ache. It wasn’t my pain, exactly—it was my sister’s. Her time there had been a nightmare, filled with humiliation and hardship. Picking up this call felt almost like a betrayal of everything she’d endured. But duty called. I sighed, composed myself, and answered, “This is Catayela Johnson, Esq. How may I help you?” My voice was professional, but there was a tinge of annoyance. People rarely called my office without an appointment—it was practically an unwritten law.

The voice on the other end made me pause.

“Hey, girl! How’s it going? Are you free right now?”

I blinked in surprise. “KK Arnold?”

Most people knew KK as a lively, chatty social media personality, but I knew her differently. She was my childhood best friend, the one who had been my rock through thick and thin. Without her, I doubted I’d even be here today.

“Girly, I’m never free,” I teased, “but I think I can make an exception. What’s up?”

Her voice shifted, becoming unusually serious. “Would you come to UCONN?”

I laughed nervously. “KK, I told you I’d catch one of your games someday. It’s just been hard—”

She cut me off sharply. “It’s not about that. It’s a legal matter.”

The shift in her tone immediately put me on edge. Concern crept into my voice. “Does this need to be handled at UCONN, or can you come to my office?”

There was a muffled sound on the line—whispers I couldn’t quite make out. My worry deepened. “KK? HELLO?”

“Oh, sorry!” she said, snapping back. “I think it’s best if you come up here tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I said, already mentally rearranging my schedule. “I’ll clear my day. See you tomorrow.”

As I hung up, I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window. What could KK have gotten herself into? “Sammy,” I called out, “cancel my meeting tomorrow. Just one, right?”

She nodded and immediately set to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

AT UCONNKK’s POV

The team stood around me, their expressions a mix of anticipation and skepticism. I tucked my phone away and turned to face them.

“She said she’ll talk to me tomorrow,” I announced, shrugging. “So I guess we’re driving to New York.”

Confusion rippled through the group. Jana tilted her head. “Wait—did she say we all could come to the office, or just you?”

I hesitated but brushed it off with a grin. “Okay, fine—she technically said just me. But trust me, she won’t mind. I’ve known her my whole life.”

Jana didn’t look entirely convinced, but before she could argue, I threw my arms up. “Alright, Huskies! Next stop: New York!”

The team broke into excited chatter, but I noticed one person hanging back. Paige sat in the corner, her expression distant and sad.

“What’s up, Captain? You look like you just lost a game,” I said, nudging her playfully.

Paige glanced at me, her blue eyes glassy. “I need a different lawyer,” she said softly.

I blinked, confused. “Wait—I just got us one. And trust me, she’s good. Top-tier. Yale graduate. One of the best in the city!”

“It’s not about that,” Paige said, shaking her head. “It’s…personal.”

I frowned. “Personal? What are you talking about?”

She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I knew her when we were kids. It didn’t end well. She’d never willingly help me—not after what I did.”

“What could you have possibly done?” I asked, stunned.

Paige’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “Something unforgivable. And the worst part? I still have feelings for her.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “I wish I were. But trust me—what I did was bad enough that she’d refuse to help me, even under oath. ”

[danswank]

I literally went to park city today to see if I could find Alex lol. I did not. I’m very sad

never trust gaskarth to post things in real time

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[fierykitten2]

Pokémon fans don’t understand that “event-exclusive” means that Wake and Leaves can’t (and shouldn’t be at least until the next time they appear in a game that isn’t SV) be found in the game outside events part 8000000000000000

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would they or would they not catch you…

Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.

He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.

‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.

‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.

‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.

You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.

Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀

Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.

He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.

‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.

‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.

You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.

Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.

However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.

Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.

‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.

‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.

Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.

What a sweetheart.

Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.

Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”

( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)

Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.

[pathologicalreid]

diphenhydramine | s.r.

in which reader has a hard time getting to sleep at night, leading to Spencer's step by step instruction of which hormones help you fall asleep

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: unprotected p in v sex, fingering, spencer infodumps while fingering you, restlessness, ambien, sex as a sleep aid, effective but not recommended, physiology, female masturbation, insecurity, reader doesn't pee after sex which you really should do, no clean up, but fanfiction isn't real. softdom!spencer. not thoroughly proofread. word count: 1.99k a/n: i thought i had this scheduled so imagine my surprise when i went to check tumblr and it wasn't posted. ANYWAYS. this one goes out to all the girlies with chronic sleep issues (me) and the person who requested this. don't like, don't read.

Your pillow was warm. Surely that was what was hindering your ability to sleep. Lifting your head, you flip your pillow over, resting your head on the cool side and turning to your other side.

Facing Spencer, you pull your arm out from under the covers, wondering if you should only change one variable at a time to see what actually helps you get to sleep. Huffing, you shut your eyes again, the usually muted traffic outside of your apartment seeming extraneously loud for this time of night.

You couldn’t put a name to it, but there was something keeping you up at night. You’d always had sleep issues, but your restlessness from the last several weeks was unprecedented.

“Angel,” your boyfriend says from next to you, reaching his hand out and placing it on your waist, trying to drag you across the sheets and into his arms.

Willingly, you move to his side of the bed, leaving space between the two of you to keep your body cool—maybe you were just too warm to sleep. “Did I wake you?” You ask, peering up at him through your eyelashes. He looks so ethereal in the diffused moonlight that seeps in through the closed curtains, the cool light falling over the harsh edges of his face.

He hums in response, opening his eyes and casually slipping a hand under your sleep shirt, resting his palm on your bare waist, “No,” he murmurs, even though you know he’s lying through his teeth. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him miserably, sticking out your lower lip even though he likely can’t see your face—his eyes would need to adjust to the darkness.

He shifts under the covers, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your ribcage, “Have you tried Ambien?”

Your primary care physician prescribed sleeping pills for you, but you didn’t have any interest in taking them. “So I can end up at the Lincoln Memorial with my underwear on my head? No, thanks.”

“I would be very impressed if you managed to sleepwalk all the way to the National Mall,” he muttered, his voice clearing as he became more alert.

You sigh in exhaustion, “I’m multifaceted.”

Spencer kisses your forehead, “Go to sleep, multifaceted.”

“I can’t,” you complain, watching him through your eyelashes, “I’m open to suggestions.”

Your boyfriend groans at your impertinence, “You could try taking the pills that your doctor prescribed to you.”

Rolling your eyes in the dark, you tuck some stray hairs behind your ear, “Nope. Any other ideas in that big brain of yours?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you get kind of snippy when you get tired?” Spencer asks rhetorically.

Frowning in defeat, you consider going out to the living room to watch something on the TV. At least that way you would be able to let Spencer get some sleep. “Are you telling me that there’s nothing you’ve read recently that has any kind of information on remedies for restlessness?”

Next to you, Spencer stiffens, and you wonder if he’s cold. You turned on the ceiling fan in an attempt to cool down, “There are always new articles on sleep remedies, but none you’d be interested in.”

Your eyes flicker to the alarm clock on his bedside table, just past three in the morning, “I’m open to anything.”

“Orgasms produce some of the same hormones that are conducive to falling asleep,” he whispers, his ministrations on your waist coming to a halt.

Sighing, you flop onto your back, “I already tried that.”

He’s silent for a moment, “Were you touching yourself while I was in bed next to you?” There was a new lilt in his voice, some sort of shift as the type of frustration he was feeling changed.

Considering your options, you cross your arms in front of your stomach, staring up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, “Yeah, but I didn’t— I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t make yourself come?” He finishes for you, the words that you couldn’t get out slipping easily past his lips.

It shouldn’t embarrass you, but you find your face warming under the cover of night anyways. “No,” your answer comes out as barely more than an exhale, “I couldn’t quite get there.”

With his hand now resting on your abdomen, your attention laser focusing on the way his pinky finger skimmed the elastic band of your panties, “Do you want me to try?”

Honestly, it wouldn’t be much of an attempt, like every other aspect of his life, pleasing you is something Spencer excels at. “I want you to go to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you,” you decline his offer.

He doesn’t move his hand, “Are you sure? I’m offering, if you’re accepting.”

“I-“ you falter, “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try, but only if you want to.” You were perfectly fine with going to the couch and wasting the night away in front of the TV screen. You’ve clocked a lot of time with the early morning newscast recently.

Spencer twists his wrist in response, looking at you in the cool light of the room, “I’m always interested in pleasing you.” He speaks to you quietly, retaining the reverent tones of the morning while slipping his hand deeper into your underwear. His index finger slipping easily through your folds, “Oh, you got close,” he whispers.

There’s no resistance as his finger breaches your entrance, already deeper than your fingers had gotten. Your mouth falls open, a small, choked gasp escaping your throat as your hand instinctively grabs at Spencer’s wrist, “Yeah.”

His motions are slow and precise, making sure you can feel every slight movement as he withdraws his finger before sliding it back into your pussy. Adding a second finger before his other hand pulls down at your underwear, haphazardly leaving them around your thighs before finding a rhythm. The peace of the night pauses only for the crude sounds from you, muffled by the blanket strewn over your bodies.

Gently, Spencer presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, maintaining the thrusts of his hand as he slowly encircles the sensitive nub, “Spence.” Your voice is a breathy laugh in recognition of just how quickly he can get you there.

There was something about having someone else touch you. When you do it yourself, you can hold yourself back or overthink it, but with Spencer’s hands on you—or in you, rather—there was nothing to hold back. “Sex can help you sleep for the simple reason that it’s physical activity, but it’s when you cum that your body releases hormones that can actually help you sleep,” his ministrations don’t suffer as a result of his physiology lesson. If anything, it all becomes more intense.

A sharp, high-pitched noise comes out of your mouth, the all too familiar knot in your lower belly coiling. And coiling. And coiling. “So, you can—” your voice cuts out as you gasp, “You can literally fuck me to sleep?”

Spencer hums a confirmation, “Sex reduces cortisol levels, and your body’s going to release oxytocin and prolactin,” he assures you, “and those will induce pleasant and relaxing feelings. All of which means I get to fuck you to sleep tonight.”

“’m close,” you breathe, closing your eyes as the pressure in your core nears unbearable levels. “Oh, Spence,” you say, your grip tightening on his wrist as his hands don’t let up on you.

His unoccupied hand reaches up to your face, gently sweeping hair off of your forehead in a way that makes you dizzy, his head falling to your shoulder before he kisses the worn fabric of your t-shirt, “You can cum, baby. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t want you to hold it in, so you don’t. Your head tips back into the pillows as the coil in your belly snaps, going off like a slingshot—sharp and quick.

Spencer’s fingers keep working you through your orgasm, slowing at the same pace that your orgasm does, the sheets sticking to your back as you slowly unarch, coming back to the surface as the pleasure of your orgasm drifts away almost as quickly as it came.

Every part of your body trembles as you fall away from your high, hooded eyelids staring over at your boyfriend as you catch your breath. Timidly, you reach down and push your underwear down your legs, kicking them off into the abyss of sheets to be discovered at a later date as you turn on your side.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, shifting under the covers as he pulls his cock out of his boxer briefs.

You hum, scooting yourself closer to him on the mattress, heat emanating from his body in a way that you now find welcoming, “You can’t even see me.”

Grabbing your thigh, Spencer slings your leg over his waist, opening your body to him, “Not right now,” he admits, “But I know you. I know the way you look right now, while I’m slipping myself into you.” His voice is low, but your attentions are focused on the feeling of his tip at your pussy, slowly pushing into you. He lets your body adjust, this isn’t an angle he usually takes you at, but you can feel every single ridge as he moves.

“I know the glossy look your eyes have right now,” he mutters, pushing your lower back closer to him, leaving his cock impossibly deep in you. “A combination of the orgasm that you just had and the sensations you’re feeling right now.”

You shudder at his words, tentatively rolling your hips against him, silently signaling to him that you’re ready for him to move. A soft cry escapes your lips as he withdraws his hips, pushing himself back into you while your cunt throbs around his length, “Spence.”

He grunts in response, finding a steady, gentle rhythm as your mind goes blank. You find yourself searching for that high again, “You feel so good, angel. So, so good.” His voice is low as he pulls your body closer to him still, “Fuck.”

“Spence,” your voice cracks at stimulation, overwhelming you as he breathes into the crook of your neck. You dig your nails into his back, trying to keep yourself from screaming as his hand slips between your conjoined bodies, swiping softly at your clit.

Spencer keeps moving, fucking into you as his movements grow messier and messier with each passing thrust. “You’re so pretty,” he repeats, seeing your features in the soft moonlight as your mouth gapes and your second orgasm quickly approaches.

Whimpering, you bite down on your lower lip, your leg that’s slung over him shaking uncontrollably as you chase your orgasm, “Oh my god,” you gasp helplessly.

“So good for me. Let it go, I’m close too,” he says, continuing his motions even as your pussy clenches around his length, the waves of your orgasm pulsating around him, sending him hurtling toward his own.

Stars dance in front of your eyes, and you let them fall shut. His movements come to a stop and you loose a sigh of relief at the realization that you’re exhausted. “Don’t go,” you mumble.

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your lips, holding you close to him with one arm while readjusting his underwear with the other. “I won’t,” he whispers, “You need to call your doctor about wanting new sleeping pills.”

You grunt in response, too close to sleep to form a coherent response.

“I’m not opposed to a more natural remedy, but I’m not always around at night, and I need to know you’re sleeping at night,” he tells you, his voice growing softer as sleep threatens to take him.

Humming, you nuzzle closer to him, letting your body melt into the mattress as you finally fall asleep. Staying cold was no longer a concern, staying close to Spencer was.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Bottom Yandere slasher x final boy male reader head cannons~! ૮ ོ≧ ⩊ ≦ ོ𑁬

blowjobs, knife play, degrading, large bottom, small top ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

You were out and about camping on a little trip with your friends when he first had seen you, staring and blinking over at you like a frog. Something inside his cold body came back to life like a zombie breathing air once again. He had to have you and he would have you no matter what he had to do or who he had to clear. Taking you in the middle of the night after dealing with your friends, he’d have you dragged back to his cabin and just stare at your sleeping form for hours.

He’d blink over at you blushing under his mask obsessing over your every muscle and your short frame, you woke up screaming shouting any sort of insult just trying to escape only to fail each time with him frowning and locking you back up in his bedroom. “I’m not your fucking pet you big idiot! You can’t keep me!” You’d shout at him angrily but he’d only tilt his head as though he didn’t understand what you were speaking to him but he did understand you were upset by the tone you were using.

The slasher would keep you for months, he’d feed you and cling to you leaving you never alone because he was by your side each and every hour of the day. His arms held you in a bone crushingly tight spooning position in bed leaving you conflicted on how you could fall for a man like him? Maybe you were in live or maybe it was all the stressful hormones combined with the built up Stockholm syndrome that had you all over him by the end of the second month.

The first time you had sex with him was during your most recent escape, you found his knife, you tried to attack him from behind but with his tall stature you failed only having him on top of you pinning you to the ground. not before you shoved the knife against him threatening him going feral in anger. The hard feeling beneath you is what brought your mind to a clearer thinking. He was hard, how could he possibly be hard in a situation like this? You just tried to kill him and make your escape “are you seriously fucking hard right now? You’re a horny gain arent’cha!” You’d mock him feeling a smile creeping on your face.

Not even thirty minutes later you’re completely stripped holding him up on top of you with your hand shakily holding the knife to his thigh only grunting when he lifts himself up and down on your cock “o-oh shit, wasn’t expecting this” the slasher is even more infatuated with you at this point, the size of your cock had him intimidated at first when he seen a proud seven and a half— eight inches when hard cock looking at him for the first time since this was his first sexual encounter, shockingly sex wasn’t common for a crazed serial killer.

After that moment on the kitchen floor of his cabin this man’s silent and cold demeanor shifts into more, you fucked him into being domestic, wanting to make you happy trying to get you to want to willingly stay with him even if it means he had to please you. His face in your balls with his knife thrown to the ground while he attempts to give you a blow job “c’mon you can take a little more right, you’re a big man so shove it a little down that throat” you couldn’t help but be cruel to him with your hand gripping the rubber backing of his mask and forcing his face down on your crotch reminding him that while he kidnapped you, he lacked all his control when you were in the mix.

When you finally come around to the slasher, you’re grueling with him in sex, your arms would wrap around his body jerking your hips harshly between his thighs fucking him like a manic and pulling his mask back making him groan feeling more exposed and vulnerable before you, “are all serial killers preening sluts?” You couldn’t help but just egg him, not when you felt his walls gripping you back every time you spoke them making you a mess burying your face into his chest heaving and moaning on top of him fucking him like you need it.

[fromgoy2joy]

I sat next to the protest today.

I wrote fan-fiction about two gay jewish dads raising children to the play list of the chant- "No peace on stolen land!" on an American college campus. It isn't a name brand one either, nor does it have any legitimate ties to Israel. The anger is just there- it has rotten these future doctors, nurses, teachers, and members of society.

I don't even know what to call their demonstration- it was a tizzy of a Jew hatred affair. At points, there were empathetic statements about Gazans and their suffering. Then outright support of Hamas and violent resistance against all colonizers. Then this bizarre fixation on antisemitism while explaining the globalists are behind everything.

"Antisemitism doesn't exist. Not in the modern day," A professor gloated over a microphone in front of the library. "It's a weaponized concept, that's prevents us from getting actual places- ignore anyone who tells you otherwise."

"How can we be antisemitic?" A pasty white girl wearing a red Jordanian keffiyeh gloats five minutes later. "Palestinians are the actual semites."

"there is only one solution!" The crowd of over 50 students and faculty cried, over and over.

"Been there, done that," I thought, then added a reference to a mezuza in the fourth paragraph.

Two other Jewish students passed where I was parked out, hunching and trying to be as innocuous as possible. We laughed together at my predicament, where I am willingly hearing this bullshit and feeling so amused by this.

"Am I crazy? For sitting here?" I asked them. My friends shook their heads.

"We did the same last week- it's an amazing experience, isn't it?”

We all cackled hysterically again. They left to study for finals. Two minutes later, I learned from the current speaker that “Zionism” is behind everything bad in this world.

Forty-five minutes in, a boy I recognized joined me on my lonely bench. He came from a very secular Jewish family and had joined Hillel recently to learn more about his culture. His first Seder was two nights ago.

He sat next to me, heavy like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. There was just this despondent look on his face. I couldn’t describe it anyone else, but just sheer hopelessness personified.

“They hate us. I can’t believe how much they hate us.” He said in greeting.

And for the first time all day, I had no snarky response or glib. All I could do was stare out into the crowd, and sigh.

[ham1lton]

GOOD LUCK, BABE!

pairings: charles leclerc x reader (romantic/platonic).

summary: friendships don’t always survive, you and charles would know.

warnings: cheating towards the end. no smut but a makeout session. sorry alex 💔

author’s note: the brocedes au that me and anon wanted. i’m trying something new btw. let me know how u feel about it.

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you never imagined yourself in the same room as charles. not willingly anyways. yet, when you received the invitation with his handwritten note asking you to come. you knew you couldn’t say no. you had spent so much of your childhood discussing the future. he wanted a family. three kids, a dog and a gorgeous wife that loved him. you wanted a career. the glory, the accolades and the fans that loved you.

he made you promise one day that you’d be at his wedding. you were fifteen at the ice cream shop that he’d always drag you too. you had snuck out without arthur in order to have an extra scoop after charles’ dad had paid for the ice cream you’d had earlier. he looked over at you, eyes serious and asked you to be his best man — (“best woman, best girl. it doesn’t matter. i just want you next to me. i’m serious yn.” he took a lick of his ice cream and the seriousness melted away when he left a smudge on his nose.)

you didn’t break promises easily.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

however, when arthur came running up to you, asking you to follow him. when your relationship with charles disintegrated, you never lost touch with arthur. he was like a little brother to you. you would very rarely meet him for brunch in whatever city you happened to both be in. so when he asked you to follow him, you did willingly.

“where are we going?” you ask, as he pulls you along by your right hand. “usually, whenever you don’t give me context it means you’re doing something bad. is this something bad leclerc?”

“when am i ever doing something bad?” he looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. you roll your eyes. he plants you in front of a room and nods at it. you stare at him blankly.

“okay? i’m not a mind reader arthur.”

“i need you to help me look for something.” he nods at the room. “in there.”

“you can do it yourself.” you turn to leave before he runs in front of you and stops you.

“listen. i don’t care if you had that weird breakup with my brother,” you start to protest that it wasn’t a breakup but he stops you. “but you didn’t need to cut me off too. you were a part of my life too. you abandoned me too.”

“i don’t ask you for anything yn but i need your help. i’m looking for my silver cufflinks. i need them.” he raised his cuffs to show you the distinct lack of cufflinks. “please. i’m begging you. i wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

you didn’t expect to come here to be blackmailed and guilt tripped but it was working. you avoided everything leclerc. even his family, especially his family if you were being honest. they went from being your second family to nothing at all.

“okay.” you nod. “i’ll get your cufflinks.”

arthur smiles and opens the door for you to walk in. it’s someone’s hotel room. either arthur’s or a friend’s. it’s messy and you sigh. it’ll be hard finding them in this mess but you start carding through clothes.

“yn?”

you know that voice anywhere. you turn around and it’s charles. he’s half dressed in his wedding suit, his crisp white shirt half unbuttoned. his hair is still messy as if he’s ran his hand through nervously multiple times. you smile with no teeth and move to open the door. it’s locked.

“arthur leclerc! open this fucking door!” you seethe. you bang against the door and hear his voice through the material.

“not until you fucking talk! i’ll be back in half an hour.” you hear his footsteps walk away. you turn to charles who smiles sheepishly at you.

“tea?”

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 1,737,883 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: it seems all the rumours are true. sworn enemies f1 drivers charles leclerc and yn yln have seemed to call a truce to celebrate his wedding to art historian alexandra saint mleux. she was seen wearing a dark green vivienne westwood gown as she celebrated the couple’s nuptials.

what do we think about the rekindling of this flame, ham1ltons?

view all 679,498 comments

user1: CHARLESYN IN THE SAME ROOM NO ARGUING NO FIGHTS WE CHEERED!!

user2: i wish we had pictures of her. she always eats her outfits.

-> user3: wtf how does she digest them?

-> user2: figure of speech babe <3

user4: did she have a date??

-> user5: her longtime boyfriend!!

user6: they worked it out on the remix

-> user7: so FERRARI ❤️

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

charles makes you the tea. he doesn’t finish buttoning his shirt as he pours it into a mug for you. he remembered how you liked it - two sugars and a splash of milk. you stay silent but nod gratefully.

it’s been so long since you’ve been alone with him. you’re not the same wide eyed kid but neither is he. he’s getting married and you’re giving him the silent treatment. he sits on the edge of his bed awkwardly. tapping his thigh with a single finger.

“thank you for coming,” he says. “i didn’t think you would.”

“the handwritten invitation was a nice choice,” you sip your tea. “personal. did everyone else like it?”

“only yours was,” he coughs into his elbow. “handwritten, i mean. only yours.”

that’s news to you but you don’t have time to ponder what that means before he speaks again.

“i’ve thought for the longest time on what i’d say to you if i got the chance. everything. how sorry i was, how sorry i am, how much i hated you and how much you meant to me. you were my best friend yn. my best friend. no one has even come close to what you were for me.” he chuckles as he presses his palms into his eyes. “who else could i talk to besides you?”

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

(insert a tiktok edit of the two of you throughout your careers. the song playing over it is the song ‘chemtrails over the country club’ by lana del ray specifically the lyrics ‘nobody’s son/nobody’s daughter’. it gets 167k likes.)

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

“do you still hate me?” charles looks at you under his lashes.

“of course i do. you hurt me.”

“you hurt me. but i don’t hate you.” charles fidgets in his seat. he stretches his hands to place them on his knees. you sip your tea. “do you remember when i asked you to be my best woman?”

you nod.

“i didn’t mean that. i wanted you to be my wife.”

you would choke on your tea if you didn’t know that information but charles wasn’t subtle. yet it was a case of missed opportunities. you didn’t like him then and he didn’t like you now.

“i couldn’t hate you yn. god knows i tried. it hurts me knowing that you hate me as i could never hate you. i said all that shit because i was hurt and angry. you said i was a shitty driver. that i wouldn’t have won without ferrari’s strategies which we both know are shit-“

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you still cared about my opinion.” you interrupt. your voice still has a defensive edge to it. he just shrugs.

“i’ll always care about your opinion.”

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)

user1: editing yn to l’amour de ma vie by billie eilish (extended version) rn 😋

user2: what part?

user1: listen from 2:15 till 2:56!!

user3: THATS GONNA EATT OMGGGG

user4: wish we could edit the wedding appearance of the two of them omggg.

user5: when i get off my lazy ass and finish my edit of them to ‘the girl so confusing’ remix

user6: do y’all think they’re talking at the wedding?

user7: babe do you know yn? she’s probably at the very corner of the reception right now. she’ll take a pic with every other leclerc besides charles and probably leave before dinner is served.

user8: you’re so real. yn would NEVER talk to charles let alone be alone with him. i hate it but it’s the truth.

user9: plus charles is probably busy with the wedding.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

you never considered yourself to be a bad person but making out with your ex best friend/teammate literally a few hours before he’s about to get married? that’s a bitch move.

you try to think about his fiancée. she’s probably getting ready excitedly with her family and friends. thinking about being the future mrs leclerc while you’re two minutes away from committing adultery on both of your partners.

you pull apart from charles. he looks at you with wide eyes.

“we can’t fucking do this. we’re awful people,” you sit up. “my fucking lipgloss is all over your mouth.”

“i look good in pink. it’ll be fine.” he wipes it off.

“you have a fiancée. you’re getting married.”

“tell me the word and i’ll call it off. just for you.” he looks at you. “i’m quitting f1 after this year anyways. i’m not attempting to go for the second championship. i don’t want it.”

“how do you not want it?”

“we have different priorities but i won’t be a f1 driver anymore. you always said you couldn’t date a driver. i’ve grown now. i’m fine being in your shadow. i love it. i want it.”

he looks at you as serious as he did when he asked you to be his best woman all those years ago.

“what do you want yn?”

you bite your lip, and think.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)

user7: i’m hoping we get at least a picture. just one.

user4: i would DIE!!! imagine!!!

user3: charlesynnies suffer every day and everyone else wins.

user2: i think yn is right there with charles. maybe dancing.

user1: he always said she’d be at his wedding. he was right. i think there is still love there.

user5: FINISHED MY FUCK ASS EDIT PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT ON TIKTOK BESTIES

user6: okay i wrote a little fic for ao3. it’s called ‘wait until you like me again’!! it’s domestic charlesyn as they are forced to work everything out. kinda angsty but really smutty.

user1: spamming u both charlesynnies are the best idc <3

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, landonorris and 1,827,983 others.

charles_leclerc: say hello to mr and mrs leclerc 💍

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

view all 287,929 comments

yourusername: happy for you 💕

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

INTERVIEW WITH CHARLES LECLERC

interviewer — so is it true? you’re renewing your ferrari contract?

charles (laughing) — it is true. racing is my life. this is it for me. it’d take something big to take me away from it.

interviewer: you all heard it here first!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr (charles specific tags will be added to the comments!)

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐦 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You need to start your day, but your cute, sleepy boyfriend can't seem to keep his hands to himself.

『Word count』 : 1.65k

-> Genre: Pwp. Smut.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Yunho x Girlfriend!Reader   

[Warnings] : Lazy sex. Unprotected sex. Coming inside (dont do that). fingering. Dirty talk. Swearing. Dominance play kinda?

Note: This is dedicated to my sweeties @yunhoszn @bro-atz and @skteezcursed ♡♡ I hope you all enjoy this little piece of filth. And special thanks to Bro for the prompt. "Are you wearing my shirt? That's hot."

Also, thank you, @gococogo , for helping me with the title.

Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

Masterlist | Navigation

In simple terms, you were in a rush. You managed to escape Yunho’s deathly grip before quickly throwing on anything you could find. Yunho wasn’t a deep sleeper per se, but you were thanking the gods he was most likely too tired from practice yesterday to hear all the unnecessarily loud noises the draws make. Or the way the bathroom door creaks. And your little swears as you look around for your belt.

You had promised your friends you’d go shopping with them for this event you all had planned to go to. But what you didn’t expect was them suddenly texting you, saying they want to go out so goddamn early. While you looked through the top drawer of your dresser for a cute pair of socks to match your outfit you heard a shift followed by a light groan… fuck, You thought.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” No, hello or morning. Your hunk of a boyfriend decided to send shivers down your spine as his unnaturally deep groan caught your ears. His eyes were hooded, still half asleep. His hair was sticking up in random directions making him look goofy in the best way. And that voice… “That’s hot.”

“What?!” You responded suddenly, shaking your thoughts aside.

“You. Look. Hot. In. My. Shirt.” Yunho punctuated every word as he sat up, eyeing your figure. He always looked hot but when you paired his clothing in the mix, fuck he couldn’t help himself. “Come here.”

“Yun. I’m going to be late.” You sputtered, turning back around to grab a random pair of socks, no longer caring if they matched.

“I said come here.” If by some cynical miracle, his voice dropped, making you freeze. Slowly, you closed the dresser before turning around. He was leaning against the headboard, his bare chest on full display. His hair had flattened a bit from him, running his fingers through it. He managed to look dishevelled and put together at the same time. The smile on his face grew once your eyes met his, and then he tapped his thigh. You shamefully walked over, like a mouse willingly entering the lion's den. His hand reached for you as soon as you got to the edge of the bed, tugging you harshly until you were perched on top of him. “There…Wasn’t that so hard.”

“I really need to go, Yun. I can't be la-” Yunho shut you up quickly with his lips, the force of his hand on the back of your neck holding you still. Your eyes couldn’t help but flutter close while your hands gripped the ends of his soft locks. His hands pulled and tugged on your shirt, untucking it from your pants before his fingers started to pop your buttons. “Yunho, I r-rea…” He swallowed your words, “..ly need to go.”

He finally let go of your neck, letting you pull away to breathe. But his attack didn’t falter. His mouth latched onto your neck, lazily suckling a bright purple mark on the left side. A perfect little imprint to show off what belongs to him. Your hands falter slightly, failing to hold onto him any longer, it was like your body was shutting down at the mere sensation of Yunho. You could almost forget about the day your friends had planned. You could almost just let Yunho have his way with you… almost. “Yunho I need to go and if you don’t stop biting my neck there will be problems…”

“Oh, will there be?” Yunho didn’t seem to care much about your empty threat cause he knew for a fact you meant none of it. One of your favourite things to do is nap with him, so you passing this opportunity up would be very unlike you. “Come on darling. Take off your clothes.”

Even when Yunho was sleeping he still was always dripping with confidence. You bit your lip, slipping the belt through its loops, before throwing it across the room. You hopped off the bed briefly to discard your pants, all the while Yunho laid back down, taking in a big sigh as he got comfortable once again. He was relaxed, tired even. But something about you wearing his shirt was still leaving him with an insatiable thirst. A thirst he needs you to satisfy. Your hands reach for the hem of the said shirt but Yunho quickly stops you. “Do not take that off.”

The grunt between the words causes you to let out a shaky breath, crawling back onto the bed until you are on top of him. Caging him. “You are so annoying.” You huffed gifting him a small peck.

He smiled, “You love it.”

“Oh, I do…” You kissed him again, grinding your hips slowly against his covered crotch. He growled through his nose, his hands gripping your ass harshly, helping you find a steady rhythm. Yunho couldn’t explain it but it was as if his body was turned up to a thousand. Every touch, every sly hump from your hips. Your nails lightly scratched down his naked chest. Everything was unbelievably sensitive. Was it because he was exhausted from yesterday and still in a dream state? Or was it you? Had his body finally given up and now you had all the control. He couldn’t tell anything apart anymore.

“I need you doll…” He moaned into your mouth. Now it was your turn to smirk. Your hands that rested on his chest, mindlessly moving their way down until they landed on his bulge. He was completely hard beneath his boxers.

“You want to fuck me, pretty boy?” You whispered in his ear before kissing along his jaw. He tilted his head, his eyes rolled back feeling you tug on his boxers until his cock was just free enough for you to grab. “You better come with me to this shopping trip when we’re done.”

“Oh, I’ll come…” He lazily smirks, making you blush lightly. You sat up seeing a puppy-like gaze in his eyes. Devoted, needy. So much for dominance, you thought. You slide your panties to the side, feeling your slick had already wet the fabric. His eyes never left yours as you slid a finger inside your aching pussy.

“Yun…” You whimpered, slowly preparing yourself for him, grinding steadily on your finger. The heat from your cunt, pooled against Yunho’s cock, as he watched you with knitted brows as you rubbed yourself against him. You were so close yet so far away from him, he needed to be inside you. Now.

“You better sit on my fucking cock right now before I bust from this sight.” He tipped his head against the pillow below him. His cock twitched as the tip caught your folds, feeling the slick coak his shaft. He couldn't help but let out a moan higher than normal, feeling all sense of proper function leave his brain. “Please, doll. I’m dying here.”

“Hmm. alright.” You chuckled, sitting up to line his cock to your entrance before sinking down completely taking every inch in one go. You hiccuped a whimper, slightly knowing you were going to definitely regret not prepping as much later but for now, you basked in the ache. The slight pain of being stretched by your boyfriend's girth. “Y..Yuyu..”

“Fuck you feel like heaven, baby. So fucking t-tight.” Yunho cried, his hands suddenly gripping tight on your hips, his nails leaving crescent moon shapes that will certainly bruise by the evening. You stable yourself with his shoulders, bouncing quickly on him. Your eyes had fluttered closed, basking in the feeling of your boyfriend's huge cock deep inside you.

“Yunho, You’re so big, fuck nhg,.” You whined, your arms shaking as they struggled to keep your body weight up. Yunho hazily opened his eyes to see the pure bliss mixing with concentration on your face. He could see you were struggling to keep the rhythm and his snug thought was whether to help you or not. Maybe I should let her struggle a bit, brat deserves it. He’d chuckled to himself but ultimately decided to help you, bringing his legs up, he planted his feet tight against his thighs, tipping you over so your top half would rest against his chest. Caging him. 

“You hold princess.” He grunts in your ear before jackhammering up into your soaked cunt. You could hear all the squelching and dripping from the slick leaking from your abused hole. You were so close, you just needed a little more, a little push. Your hand snaked down between yours and Yunho’s body, finding your clit quickly. Yunho grinned smugly as he felt your hand press tightly against your nub. Your fingers circled in time with Yun’s thrusts, making you come with a loud scream of his name. Yunho finished quickly after feeling you clamped tight around him.

His thrusts lazily came to a full stop, but he didn't leave the warmth of your cunt as he rolled you to the side. Yunho’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he nuzzles his head against your chest, hearing the way your heart rate slowed. You felt exhausted, softly raking your fingers through Yunho’s sweaty hair. There was a calming silence, one you and Yunho always managed to find yourself in. comfort, loving, contentment. “Five minutes… Then we’ll go. Okay.”You huffed out a yes to his questions, but you knew very well five minutes was actually going to be five hours and you were going to have to explain and apologise to your friends.

[brokenmenswhore]

first | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders (james, remus, & sirius) x fem!reader

summary: virginity loss trope :)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), language, gender swapped dorcas cus i said so 🤷🏻‍♀️

────── ☾ ──────

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, body halting as the staircase began to shift beneath you, “and completely untrue.”

“Oh come on, you never do anything interesting! For your sake, it has to be true,” Sirius teased.

You turned to him, mouth open in offense. “I’m plenty interesting.”

“But not interesting enough to lose your virginity to Meadowes in the library during fourth year?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“No! It didn’t happen!” you protested, “now please, let it go.”

“How would a rumor like that even get out if it isn’t true?” James asked genuinely.

“Probably because everyone knows Meadowes has the hots for her. Bet you he started it himself,” Remus answered, distaste evident in his voice.

“Are you three done now?” you asked, whispering the common room password and letting the boys in.

“So if it isn’t true, how did you lose it?” Sirius pressed.

You looked at him stunned, eyes wide in disbelief that he would ask you something like that out of the blue.

“Absolutely not,” you said, raising a finger toward him, “I’m not playing that game.”

“Oh come on!” Sirius raised his hands and smiled, “you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, now I’m curious,” James continued on, “if not Dorcas, who?”

You sighed, placing your books down and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, turning toward them exasperated. “Why does it matter?”

“You know seventeen of the girls I’ve slept with by heart,” Sirius replied, “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Sirius, you told me about seventeen of the girls you’ve slept with. Willingly. Without me asking. Ever,” you said, earning a laugh from James at your disgust.

They followed you up the stairs to your dorm, empty from everyone sneaking off to a party in the Ravenclaw common room that you were supposed to be getting ready for, but alas, you were late and distracted.

You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, ready to start applying makeup, when Remus placed a hand on the desk in front of you, leaning his face in close to you, his hair falling slightly in front of his face. He was completely in your personal space.

“Come on, Y/N, tell us who got to fuck you first.”

Remus’ voice was low, and his breath fanned your face as he spoke. You locked eyes with him, a sigh leaving your chest that you weren’t aware you were holding in. You were nervous to have him this close.

“No one has. Sorry to disappoint. Now drop it, will you?”

Remus didn’t move. You continued to look up into his eyes, your voice a little shaky, and you didn’t know what to do. You moved to get up, but Remus caught your chin between his fingers, pulling your attention back to him. “Meaning what?”

“Did you not hear me? Cus you’re like 6 inches away from me, so if you didn’t, you need to get your hearing checked,” you said, annoyed at your current predicament, just wanting to make the embarrassing conversation end. Remus finally let you stand, but Sirius and James were right behind you, stopping you from leaving the room. You opted to sit on your bed.

“You guys are insufferable.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “So you’re-“ he trailed off.

“A virgin, yes, wow, how crazy of me. You know, it’s not that weird, you all just have a personal body count higher than everyone at this school combined. And everyone else’s body count includes you. Can we please just forget about this?” you begged.

“Such attitude,” James teased, “from such a good girl.”

“Oh, so I’m a goodie two-shoes now that you’ve all discovered I’ve never had sex?”

“Kinda, yeah,” James giggled.

“Fuck you guys,” you sighed, partially lighthearted and partially annoyed, “it was my choice. You think I couldn’t have screwed Dorcas Meadowes in the library if I wanted to?”

No one had a response. Sirius’ nostrils flared, and Remus sighed. They almost seemed… jealous? at the thought of you and someone else.

You four were ridiculously close, anyone could see that, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about them in that way, but you were best friends, and you didn’t want to risk ruining that.

“You ever think about, like, just doing it?” Sirius asked.

“What?” you replied.

“Do you ever think about just saying fuck it and asking someone, like, I don’t know, one of us, to just take your virginity?”

Your breathing caught in your chest. You stared at Sirius, a million thoughts coming to your head but you couldn’t articulate any of them. You had no idea what to say.

“I mean, I’ve thought about losing my virginity, yeah, that’s normal,” you explained.

“To one of us?” Remus asked.

You could lie. You could act disgusted at the question and walk away now, or, you could tell the truth, and risk ruining your entire friendship. You could also tell the truth and potentially gain everything you wanted.

Your voice became small, your eyes watching your hands fidget in your lap, “maybe.”

The boys all exchanged a look between one another.

James was the only one who was able to pull himself together. “W-who?”

You titled your head up at him. “What?”

James sat down on the bed next to you. “Which one of us?”

You could physically see all the boys tense up, ready to be filled with either pride or jealousy. Sirius and Remus were staring daggers at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. James kept his eyes on you as well, trying to make you feel less intimidated and tense than Sirius and Remus were.

Your eyes darted between all of them, “I-“

You were evidently nervous, and Remus felt bad. He knelt on the ground in front of you, taking your hands in his own. It was the most intimate gesture you’d received from him yet. He kept his voice soft. “Angel, you don’t have to tell us, but we really want to know. I promise none of us will be too hurt. Please,” he almost begged.

You sighed. You weren’t worried because you only thought about one of them, you were worried because you were embarrassed to tell them the truth. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “All of you.”

They were not prepared for that answer.

Remus and James stared at you and tried to process your words. Sirius was more of an “act on impulse” and “speak without thinking” kind of guy.

“Fuck off,” he said, “all of us?”

“Mhm.”

“Like at the same time?” he pushed.

“Sirius-“ Remus warned.

“No, no, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, attention back on you, “I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about losing your virginity to all three of us. At the same time. I wanna hear you say that you’ve thought about us fucking you.” He was standing dangerously close to you now.

“I- I have,” you said, blush evident in your cheeks.

Sirius growled. “Remus, move.”

“Excuse me?” Remus snapped back.

“Move.”

Remus sighed and moved out of the way so that Sirius was standing directly in front of you. “You stop us if there’s anything you don’t like. Understood?”

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you retried.

Sirius gave you a small smile before grabbing your face in his hands, tilting your head up and leaning down to give you a long, intimate kiss. Once you had settled in, he deepened the kiss, his carnal desires taking over. He slowly leaned you back on the bed, your legs still hanging off the mattress, as he placed one knee next to your waist, holding himself up as he continued kissing you. When your back hit the mattress, you held the back of Sirius’s head to keep him in place.

You felt one of the boys behind Sirius, pulling your pants off and leaving your lower half nearly exposed.

Sirius flopped down on the bed next to you, still kissing you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

James slowly kissed up your thigh, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders as he kissed your underwear right above your heat. You gasped, but Sirius didn’t let you break the kiss.

“Sirius, come on, give her a break,” James pleaded, “I wanna hear her.”

Sirius groaned into the kiss before breaking it, looking down to James in between your legs. “Well, go on then.”

Sirius was still feral and needy, pulling your shirt over your head and ripping off your bra, immediately going to grab and kiss at your breasts. You were embarrassed at the exposure, but everyone was moving on your body so fast that you didn’t have time to think about your body being on display.

James pushed your underwear to the side and kissed your folds, causing you to squeal. This was an unfamiliar feeling, but you were growing wetter and wetter by the minute. He pushed your folds open with his tongue, licking and flicking at your clit. You whined and threw your head back. He continued his actions, peeking up at you from between your legs, watching you come apart as he ate you out like a man starved.

“Take it easy,” you heard Remus say from behind your head, “you gotta remember she’s never done this.”

James moaned into your cunt as a response, sending a shiver up your body, causing your legs to shake slightly. He kept sucking and licking circles around your bud, and you couldn’t help but grab the hair at the back of his head, pushing him closer into you.

“Good girl,” Sirius cooed from beside you, touching every exposed part of your body that he could.

As James’ tongue quickened, your whines grew louder, but you tried to tame them and save yourself further embarrassment. Remus noticed and was not happy. He grabbed your face and forced your neck to look backward at him. “Are you holding back?”

“N-no,” you said anxiously, not sure if it was the truth.

“Ah, but I think you are,” he started, “and we don’t accept that. Let us hear you.”

“But I’m emb-“

“I don’t care if you’re embarrassed. Stop holding back. Now.”

Remus’s demanding and controlling demeanor only added at the pleasure James was giving you with his mouth. You did as he said. James continued to quicken his pace, whines and moans falling from your lips.

“Does that feel good?” Remus asked.

“Yes, Rem, I-“

“No fair!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, “if you ask her all the questions, you get to hear her moan your name. Selfish prick.”

“Are you gonna let this be about her or what?” Remus retorted.

“I am! I should be asking you the same thing, why do you always get to be in control of everything?”

They bickered back and forth for a few minutes, but the entire time, James remained focused on you. He watched from between your legs as his tongue made you squirm and moan, and he had you nearly seeing stars.

You desperately tried to tell him you were going to come, but Remus and Sirius were too busy bickering for James to hear you. You tapped at his head to signal him, and he got the message, sucking at your bud until you finally came. Your chest rapidly rose and fell as James continued to lick you until he had tasted every last drop of cum from your hole, standing up and placing a wet kiss on your lips.

“What, did you just give up?” Sirius asked when he saw James standing.

“No, idiot, she came,” James replied, “you two dickheads were too busy arguing to notice.”

Remus’s nostrils flared. “You just let us keep arguing?”

“She tried to say something!” James defended you, and partly himself.

“Baby, you ok?” Remus checked in.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“You got a little more in you?”

“Mhm.”

“You want me?”

“Mhm.”

Remus pulled his pants and boxers down and climbed on top of you, pulling your underwear completely off of you as he placed his knees on either side of your waist.

“You sure?” he asked, wanting to confirm your consent.

“Yes,” you responded.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with it being me?”

Instead of responding with words, you tilted your head up and kissed Remus, assuring him that you wanted it to be him. You would have been okay with any of the boys, but Remus was always so in control, it made sense that he would be your first. Your relationship with him was always a little less silly, and a little more intimate, than your relationship with the other two.

“Are you ready?” he checked, lining up his already hard cock at your entrance.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just- please be nice, okay?”

Remus smiled, “of course, baby.”

You nodded at him and locked eyes as he slowly pushed into you, a long gasp leaving your lips as he filled you up. His cock was bigger than you thought it would be, and it was taking you a while to adjust to his size.

“Shit, Rem,” you breathed out, “you should have warned me that you’re that fucking big.”

Sirius growled next to you, your words driving him crazy. He couldn’t help but pull out his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched you.

Remus gave you plenty of time to adjust before you nodded at him, signaling that he could move. He started slowly, pushing in and out of you as an excruciatingly slow pace. It burned, and you almost told Remus to stop, but after a few minutes, the pain subsided, and the pleasure took over.

A particularly filthy moan left your lips, and Sirius cursed under his breath. James appeared behind your head, stroking your hair as Remus’s head dropped to your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace.

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking good.”

“You look so fucking good,” Sirius breathed.

“Thank you, Siri,” you cried out, causing Sirius to cum in his hand, the nickname making him lose all control.

“What a good girl,” Remus spoke, his thrusts quickening until he was causing your body to jolt upward with each hit from the force, “you’re doing so well.”

James placed a kiss on your forehead and you reached up to grab his hand for leverage. You squeezed his hand, the pleasure between your legs becoming almost too much.

“Relax, baby, you’re being such a good girl,” James said.

Remus’ breathing quickened. “You’re so tight, angel, if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’m not gonna last,” he warned.

“I c-can’t help it,” you told him.

“I know baby,” he replied.

“I d- don’t know how to m- make it stop,” you said.

Remus giggled, “you don’t have to make it stop. It feels good for me.”

“Oh,” you whimpered, “that’s good.”

Remus giggled again. You were so cute, even in the middle of losing your virginity. Remus leaned down and kissed you, your lips moving in harmony as he began to pound into you. Any sense of kindness and mercy he had for this being your first time went out the window when you kissed.

Your moans grew louder and louder, and you tried to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet yourself down.

“Ah ah ah,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hand away, “none of that.”

“Rem- Rem- I-“

“I know angel, let go.”

Your high crashed over you again, your hips bucking upward to meet Remus’ final few thrusts before he came inside of you, the feeling of you squeezing him becoming too much for him to hold on. Remus stayed inside of you for a moment, watching your face as you calmed down from your high, a slight shake in your legs.

“What a good girl,” James praised, kissing your forehead.

“You okay?” Remus checked in, pulling out of you and standing in front of you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, “‘m okay.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss you again. “Everything you imagined?”

“Mhm.” You were too tired to formulate complete words or sentences.

“You wanna skip the party?” Sirius continued.

“Mhm.”

“You wanna cuddle and watch a movie?”

“Mhm.” You shifted so your head was resting on Sirius’ lap as he began to stroke your hair.

Sirius smiled. “And then maybe round two.”

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I love how Isha copied jinx by dying her blue and even doing her tattoos they're ADORABLE oh oh goodness. Could you write about how it would go? The process and all , it could be a headcanons or anything else!!!

Yeah i was crying when I saw Isha dressed as a little jinx bro 😭 BRIG ME BACK MY GIRLS BRO I did a scenario but it prob sucks cause I haven’t in a while but eh, thanks for requesting!

Mini-Jinx

You never thought you’d ever be taking care of a child, especially a mute child from the Undercity who clung to your girlfriend in the face of death.

And one that just so happened to never wanna leave your side, always having a finger looped onto your belt or gripping onto you.

Isha idolized you and Jinx since the moment you two saved her from those three goons, and you didn’t know why.

But ever since she started following you two and Sevika…

It’s like she just…fit.

She did wonders for your girlfriend, and you would sit back on the little pillow fort and watch them dance and see someone you never thought you’d ever see again.

Powder.

Isha was to thank for that, but she wanted to be like the two of you so badly she’d begged for dyed hair of your hair colors, tattoos or piercings.

Though the piercings were a no go, and so were permanent tattoos, Jinx had…other ways of persuading you.

“If I’d known you were ticklish I’d have said no.” Jinx said, playfully serious as you held Isha between your legs and colored blue clouds that replicated Jinx’s onto the girls back.

Isha laughed at the feeling, trying to squirm away naturally from the cold and ticklish tips of the colorful crayons.

“And…there! How ya like em, kid?” Jinx said, looking over her work on Ishas skin with a smile, as did the little girl.

Isha had a habit of dressing like the two of you, a mixture of the two she idolized.

Isha looked down at her arm, taking a second to admire as her lips parted and she made little sounds of awe.

She then looked up at Jinx, then over her shoulder at you, before grabbing Jinx in a hug and falling back into your chest.

You made a little “oof!” Sound of surprise, before smiling at the sight of your girlfriend so shocked at the hug.

Jinx sat, in the arms of a six year old child, stunned for a moment.

It was like she never got used to be unconditional love Isha so willingly gave her, and you.

Jinx peeked at you for a moment from beside the girls head, and you met her eyes with a little smile.

She slowly settled her hands on Isha’s back, hugging her back as you circled your arms around the two while the moment called for it.

Isha couldn’t have been more elated.

She’d found people that loved her and protected her till the end, and wanted nothing more than to be like you two.

Then came time for the hair.

“Isha! Stop squirming.” You giggled at the little girls excitement, some of the dye getting into your clothes and your own hair as Jinx simply laughed at it.

“Mh-mh!” Isha said defiantly, shaking her head with a laugh as she faced away from the mirror you and Jinx had put her in front of on the stool.

“You’re gonna look so cool kid- well, you’re gonna look like me. I’m pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Jinx said, a small little mix of a smirk and a smile on her lips as she leaned down in Isha’s face and emphasized it with gently wiggling Isha’s nose between her fingers.

Isha nodded in confirmation, looking from Jinx to you with her gapped tooth smile. She grabbed your wrist, a little smile shared between the both of you.

Isha wanted you to know she thought you were just as cool as she thought Jinx was.

You shook your head with a little smile, brushing dye on the girls cheek as she squirmed back, bumping into Jinx’s hip as she laughed.

“Gonna be cooler than me and Jinx, aren’t ya?” You asked, wiggling the girls ear as she gave another bashful smile, and you loved seeing the little tooth gap between her teeth.

Little bits and pieces of Powder you couldn’t deny embedded themselves into the girl. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to love her. Or maybe it was just that.

Because she was Isha.

“Ugh- Isha! You’re getting it on me!” Jinx complained once it was time for the shower and to rinse out her hair.

You laughed at how Isha purposely moved her hair to smack against Jinx’s side, painting it the color of Jinx’s hair with some of yours mixed in.

Isha kept letting out laughs and noises of joy, even as it was time for you to wring out her hair with a towel and make it all puff out.

Isha tried puffing her hair down, squirming as she was made to sit between Jinx’s legs as she brushed out her hair. The little girl had a sensitive and tender headed scalp, so she hated this part.

She kept trying to squirm back to you and away from the brush, but you were to busy putting the little twin braids in the back of her hair from already brushed out pieces.

“Cmon Isha, not sooo bad.” Jinx dragged out, laughing as the little girl huffed in her lap when Jinx accidentally tugged at a knot.

Jinx just grinned, and couldn’t help but look at you beside her.

You couldn’t help but return the grin, tooling over your beloveds face before leaning to press a small kiss against her lips.

Jinx hummed, stopping her movements with the brush as she leaned into the kiss.

For what felt like an eternity of bliss for you, it was two seconds of torture for Isha. She rolled out her tongue in disgust, waving her hands at you and pushing your faces away from each other.

“Hey!” Jinx protested, giving a frown but she knew it wouldn’t last long as she looked at Isha. The mute girl gave a little shrug, pushing the hair ties into your palms.

You giggled at that, and with one last look at jinx, went back to braiding.

It wasn’t long before Isha was done, and sprinting happily to Jinx’s work desk and waiting for you two to reveal the work to her on top of her head.

You watched with Jinx for a moment, waiting before Jinx looked at you with a funny look. You laughed.

“You’re the one who bet her.” You said, giving a look that said “I told you so” to your girlfriend. Jinx rolled her eyes at you, waving her hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, toots.” She said playfully before pecking your cheek, getting up to walk over and meet Isha who jumped in place on the back of her heels.

You watched with a smile the whole time as Jinx covered her eyes, and revealed her work.

The smile on Isha and Jinx’s face made everything worth it. Everything that went wrong, everything that went right, everything in your life.

You never wanted to leave this moment.

You wish it lasted longer.

You wish your peace with the two girls lasted longer, before it was taken…before she was taken…

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (iv)

SUMMARY: With Soldier Boy alive in the 2020’s, back in America, he starts his mission of vengeance. Of course, his first stop is to you; the only woman he’d truly wanted to start a relationship with, who’d taken his spot only months after his supposed death. And you don’t exactly expect your old lover to appear in your home, with the intent to kill.

WORD COUNT: 2238

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Typical Soldier Boy behaviour, gore, heavy violence, canon divergence.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Finding you was difficult. They were beginning to think Ben had been wrong, that you were six foot under in some unlabelled grave, rotting away. But, Ben was sure. And arguing with him seemed like signing their death warrant.

So, they kept searching. Despite the fact they could have located at least two other Payback members, and had them dead, by now, Ben was insistent on killing you first.

So, they kept fucking searching.

And then they found it.

It was a tiny discrepancy. Something most people would simply brush past. But, Hughie found it, and it was all they needed. They followed the rabbit hole, down and down, finding hidden documents and details not even Ben knew about.

It only took two days to pinpoint your location.

The Appalachian Mountains. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Smack-bang in the middle of one of the largest forests in the entire USA. But, to Ben, that fact was whatever. He had your location. And he was going to find you, even if it meant spending weeks searching every inch of that forest.

Butcher and Hughie knew it was a dumb idea.

But, they got Ben in a car, and started their roadtrip.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

The quiet life was nice, you’d decided. You’d forgotten about Queen Maeve’s uninvited visit, going back to your routine of feeding the animals and drinking coffee on the balcony every morning.

It was weird. You used to be one of the most famous people on the planet. There was blood staining every inch of your hands, and families who were likely still trying to gain justice for the people you killed. You had decades of history. And, yet, you now lived out your days as some sort of Disney princess.

You couldn’t complain. It was better than willingly running into gunfire every week.

Padding through your dark home, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the floors, you headed for the kitchen. You were never too old for a midnight snack. Especially in the comfort of your own home. You turned into the kitchen.

And you saw it. A dark figure, shadowed in the corner.

But, you kept moving, playing oblivious. In your mind, your old training make itself own. Ben’s critiques and advice played like a movie, as you pulled the cabinet open, standing high on your toes to reach for packet of chips. Your senses were on fire, focused in on the quiet breaths, the soft squeaking of boots on the tile.

They moved, and so did you.

You ducked under the fist swinging towards your face, snatching a knife from the block beside the fridge. Holding it tightly in your fist, your stance ready to attack, you looked at the intruder. Every muscle in your body froze.

“Ben?”

He didn’t pull his punches. Ben grabbed you by the throat, using your momentary distraction to his advantage, shoving your back against the sharp edge of the counter. Instinctively, you swiped the knife towards him, but a rough hand caught your wrist, slamming it down onto the counter.

A cry of pain slipped past your lips, fingers releasing the knife. It was his turn to grab it, tossing it from your reach.

No words were spoken, just heavy breathing.

You’d never seen Ben look at you like this before. This look was reserved for those who got on the wrong side of him. Those who disappeared mysteriously overnight and were never found again — but you knew what happened. And so did he.

He was here to kill you.

“Ben—“ You choked out, through the tightening grip his hand had around your throat. The grip tightened, and your breath caught with a squeak, broken gasps for air trying desperately to pull in oxygen.

“How much did they pay you?” He demanded, his voice low and gravelly. “Huh? How much, did they fucking pay you?” There was something about him that was so different. A new edge to him, maybe. But, what caught your attention, was the look in his eyes.

Hurt. He was staring at you like you’d ripped his heart from his chest and stomped on it.

You clawed at his wrist, unable to bring any air into your lungs. Your nails bit into his skin, the scratches down his wrist quickly repairing themselves. He let you go. Not out of mercy. No. He grabbed your collar, lifting your head up, and then slamming it down onto the counter.

Your vision went completely white, all remaining breath knocked from your lungs with a gasp. Blinking desperately to clear the stars, you tried to struggle. But, he slammed you down again. And again. And again. Until he tossed you to the floor like nothing more than a rag doll.

The counter was cracked from the force of it, blood staining the white marble, and splattered across the counter. Your own kitchen. Stained with your blood. You could feel the warm liquid dripping down the back of your head, matting in your hair.

If you weren’t a supe, you’d be dead.

He didn’t let you get a word in, brutal with each of his attacks. As you desperately tried to scramble away, body on fire, he put his foot down on your ankle. Leaning down, staring intently at you, with dark eyes, Ben snarled. “How much?”

“Ben—“ Finally, words escaped. In a pathetic whimper that made his lips twitch in disgust. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your breath hitched with pain.

That answer wasn’t good enough for him. You swore you could feel the bones in your jaw crack, as his fist met your cheek. You cried out in pain, the force of the impact whipping you around, hitting your head against the ground.

His hand curled into your hair, forcing your eyes on him. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you bitch.” Your breaths were ragged, with pain and terror, staring up at the man you thought was dead. He seethed, nothing but anger and disgust (and hurt?) in his green eyes. “You whored yourself out to me, huh? Put my dick in your mouth? For what? Fuckin’ soften me up like a weak pussy?”

“Ben—“

“Don’t.” He tugged your hair, hard. “I loved you.” His teeth grit together.

Your heart broke, tears in your eyes as you stared up at him. He loved you. And he thought you’d hurt him? He was dead. He was dead. That’s what they said. They said he was dead. Your mind worked at 100 miles an hour, heart constricting.

He loved you.

Soldier Boy loved you.

You didn’t even think he was capable of that. Sure, you knew you had something special with him, something unique. But love? It’d never crossed your mind. You’d always loved him somewhat, always throwing yourself in front of bullets and danger to protect him. Always following his lead and teasing him.

Always pushing your luck with his temper. Because he never snapped. He never hurt you. He never hit you. You knew you’d loved him, when your heart would dance when he chuckled at your jokes. The way your body reacted to his hands on your hips during your first training session. You knew there was something. But, for sure, you thought it was one-sided.

That, to him, you were a good fuck. Just a hole, as he liked to say about some women.

But, you’d been so wrong. And, all this time, 37 years, he’d been alive. And you’d done nothing.

“I loved you.” He repeated, in a broken seethe. His eyes were less angry now, but still held that hint of vengeance. “I would’ve died for you.” You could’ve sobbed, right there. “We were gonna start a family.”

Your voice was shaky. “Ben. Please. I don’t know what’s going on.” You begged, pathetic and weak. Ben scoffed, emotional. “I thought you were dead. I swear it, Ben!” It was practically a plea; a desperate cry for him to believe you.

He was too blinded by his rage. “I waited every day for you.” He hissed, reaching over and grabbing his discarded shield. “For you to come and get me. To save me. You never came.”

“Ben—“

He shoved you down, head slamming against tile once more. Knees on other side of your hips, Ben gripped the edge of his shield, raising it high.

He was going to kill you. You couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t fight it. All you could do was look at him, tears running tracks through the blood on your face. A silent plea, begging him to not do this.

He rose the shield higher, lined up with the juncture of your throat.

And then he saw it. A glint of metal peeking out from under your shirt. He could recognise them from a mile away. They were his, after all. His dog tags, sat delicately just above your chest, resting on the skin like they were made to be there. His brows furrowed, movements faltering.

His dog tags. You were wearing his dog tags.

Ben hesitated, unsure.

He looked down at you, meeting your teary eyes, and his brain ran wild. Of memories of being a couple. Of the memories of when a big question mark had hung above your relationship, neither of you sure of what was going on, but treating each other like lovers anyway.

Your soft touches; the way your fingers would trace the contours of his muscles in the morning. The way you’d kiss each of his scars, muttering against his skin how perfect he was, despite the flaws and the imperfections littering his body. How gentle you were. He’d never felt a gentle touch before you.

How you’d giggle at his jokes, smile blinding, pretty dimples, cheeks flushed.

God, and those eyes. How they’d shine and shimmer when you looked up at him, like he was made of the stars themselves. He always used to melt when you propped your chin on his chest in bed, looking at him with that cute smile, and he’d trace your face with his thumb, cradling your cheeks like delicate glass.

Those few nights spent together, in the limited time you’d had together as an actual couple. The way you’d move together; perfectly in sync, like you were made for each other.

The way you’d hold him. Laugh with him. Smile at him. The passing touches. The lingering stares across red carpets and events, subtly checking each other out, and then meeting up in the supply closet. The quiet moments together, cooking dinner or merely holding each other. All those times you forced him to dance, and he’d begrudgingly spin you in the kitchen. The dates, and the movie nights, and the silly fights, and how warm his cold penthouse felt when you were with him.

Every memory, every moment, replayed in front of his eyes, as he stared at you. He lost his breath, muscles stiff. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring this shield down and kill you. His chest ached and burnt.

He couldn’t kill you.

So, instead, he hit the blunt edge of shield against your head, and watched your eyes roll back.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Coming to was disorientating and painful.

Every inch of your body ached, from the beating you’d received from Ben. You cringed as the light made the throbbing in your head intensify. Through squinted eyes, you made out the sight in front of you.

You were in your dining room. And there were two… unfamiliar men stood by your table, leaning over files and papers. Movement caught your attention.

Ben. Setting his shield down by the table.

“Ben.” You choked out, instinctively trying to reach out and grab him. To check if he was real. If he was actually stood in front you. Living, breathing. Your hands didn’t move. You looked down, frowning at the sight of tattered rope tying your wrists of the arms of your chair.

The noise drew over the attention of the three men. They exchanged a silent look, and slowly, and rather intimidatingly, approached. You whined a little, at the throbbing pain that made a tremble run it’s course through your body.

One of the unfamiliar men pulled up a chair. “What d’ya know abou’ BCL-RED?” Was that an English or Australian accent? You couldn’t tell through the buzzing in your ears.

“Wha’?” You slurred, blinking rapidly, trying to orientate yourself. “BCL-what-now?” A grunt slipped past your lips. They didn’t look impressed by that answer. “I— I saw it on a file. Back in ‘84. Never figured out what it meant.”

The man learnt forwards. “Neva’ found out?”

Your head shook, and it made the pain increase. Your face scrunched up in agony. “Mm, no.” You groaned, breaths hitched. “It was all classified. Edgar never told me. Mallory and I— we tried to figure it out.”

“Grace Mallory?”

“What? Yes. Grace.” You groaned again. “Jesus. Can you turn off the fucking lights? It feels like there’s a drill in my head.” You tried to push your face into your shoulder, hiding from the light that made your eyes burn and your head feel like Ben was slamming it against the ground again.

There was a beat of silence. “Did you know?” That was Ben. He sounded hesitant.

“Know what?” You peeked up at Ben, eyes squinted to be able to look at him. He looked tense, face expressionless. “I thought you were dead. I don’t know what else to say to convince you. I thought you were dead.”

“How did you not know?” He demanded, his short fuse lit. Ben and his fucking temper.

“I don’t know, Ben!” Your own yell made you wince in pain. “They never told me shit! I tried for 15 years to get answers!”Ben didn’t look convinced. Of course he didn’t. He was so set in his heartbreak and rage, by your supposed betrayal, that he’d utterly convinced himself. “I didn’t know.” You echoed in a broken whisper.

“How’s ‘bout this?” You blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on the accented voice. “We track down the otha’ girl. See what she ‘as to say.” There seemed to be a group-wide agreement.

“Countess?” You grunted, confused. Your gaze flicked between the three men. “I know where she is.”

And that got their attention.

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[onlygarden]

[too much, baby?] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: dom jungwon, unprotected sex, rough sex, jungwon just can't stop himself, a bit of size kink, jungwon likes when you cry, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

a/n: to the anon who requested this, i hope it meets your expectations and i do apologize if you were expecting it to be shorter but i unfortunately cannot stop rambling when it comes to jungwon.

the tranquility of the afternoon floats throughout your home as jungwon enters the bedroom with the sole purpose of admiring you, his lovely girlfriend. he was always captivated by an overwhelming sensation of surreality whenever he took in everything that comprised you. the beauty that forcefully beamed out of you was so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away from you even if he wanted to. why would he ever want to to do that, though? your existence itself far surpassed the confines of realism. to jungwon, you just couldn’t be real.

astonishment shook him as he took notice of the clothing that relaxed around your body. the large white shirt that belonged to him (needless to say) complemented your body without even hugging any part of it. your tiny body always made his clothes look so big, and he was enraptured by that alluring contradiction. he notices your lack of clothing too; beneath his large shirt, you shamelessly donned no bra, and he only assumes you’re wearing panties since your legs stand completely bare. 

if he pounced on your unsuspecting figure right now, you would willingly oblige to any manner he decided to mistreat your body in. he knew just how far to go with you, and you would always let him ring you out completely dry, anyway. 

“what are you doing, noona?” jungwon suddenly questions you, his slim figure approaching you, shoulders broad as ever. your throat grows tight as you watch the way jungwon places his hand upon the dresser you’re currently folding clothes in. he was so close to you, and he loomed over you like he was trying to hold you captive. 

“just folding clothes,” you answer simply, finally carrying your eyes to meet his. your hands freeze their actions as jungwon’s expression flings you into a state bordering on fright. 

he stood above you, gazing down onto you with an unsettling gloom in his eyes. though dull, his eyes pierced into you like he was trying to tame an inner unwavering desire. what got him like this?

his finger casually lands upon your thigh, directly below the hem of your shirt. he drags it upwards with deliberate pacing, his eyes patiently attached to the skin his finger carefully reveals. he stops once he sees a trace of your lacy thong; his eyes fall shut as he exhales, and he opens them to return his sinister gaze to you. 

“are you doing this on purpose y/n? do you want me to make you cry?” 

your breath hitches, and you’re not sure if your body was surging with heat or chills. the words that tumbled from his lips hurled your mind into a complete frenzy. god he was so blatant, and he was always violently throwing you off track with his sudden tenacity. 

“jungwon,” you start, only to be interrupted by his entire hand now moving underneath your shirt, gliding along the course of your waist as his relentless gaze returns to your body.

you remove your hands from the drawer, steadily inching it closed before jungwon slams it shut with impatience. your body flinches vaguely.

he glides his other hand underneath your shirt, both hands grabbing your waist as he forces you to face him completely.

“i’m gonna make sure you don’t ever think about teasing me like this again,” jungwon says, his low voice almost distracting you from his outlandish words. you weren’t getting him riled up on purpose, you would’ve never even guessed he’d make such a sudden switch when he joined you in the room. 

his body presses directly against you as he guides you towards the bed, lifting you up to toss you onto it before you can even feel it behind you. 

climbing on top of you, jungwon immediately moves to pull his shirt off of your body. he hurriedly tugs your panties down your legs, and you feel the lace scrape against your legs before they’re completely removed. 

his hands return to your body with greed, pushing your thighs apart and shoving a finger inside of you. he sighs as his finger becomes drenched in your slippery essence, the intensity of your wetness leaving him astonished since he had only touched you a few times. he doesn’t flash a trace of pity as he shoves another finger inside of you, starting at a brutal pace. 

“i barely touched you, aren’t you ashamed?” he asks, ridiculing you. you just couldn’t control the way your body reacted to him, your insides always melting just for him, all your sensible judgment readily surrendering to the mere idea of him touching you. 

the feeling of jungwon’s long, slender fingers punishing your insides began to bury your senses in devastating pleasure. he’s sure to watch you intently, catching every twitch, moan, and sigh his fingers force out of you. he pushes the palm of his hand against you clit, enjoying the way you clamp onto his fingers, making it more difficult for him to pump them in and out of you. 

your orgasm approaches quickly, demolishing your senses and overriding them with pleasure that truly seemed to be too much, but jungwon can’t bring himself to stop. 

“jungwon, stop! please!” you beg pathetically, moaning through your words to the point of them almost becoming indecipherable. 

“i don’t want to,” he says simply, his low voice still making your mouth water. jungwon admired your body underneath him, his expression somewhat brooding. the sight of you writhing beneath him further aggravated his urge to push your body into the mattress and fuck you to tears. 

“give me another one, i know you can,” he says, wanting your mind to be nothing more than a cloud that swirled with thoughts of him. 

after much denial and idle refusal, you came around his fingers one more time, your proper thinking drifting away from you as jungwon pulled his fingers out of your leaking pussy. 

you looked absolutely delirious, just how jungwon wanted you to be. the only thing your mind could prompt you to do now was beg and plead for jungwon. 

properly satisfied with your pitiful condition, jungwon strips himself of his clothes, beyond eager to plunge himself deep into your wetness. his hardened cock twitched in anticipation.  

you spilled so generously that it flowed out of you, creating a puddle beneath you. jungwon adored the sight before him, loving the way you bloomed just for him.

“you made a huge mess, baby,” jungwon says softly. “aren’t you sorry?” 

you whine as he pushes your thighs towards your chest, moving to line himself up with your entrance.  

he sinks into you hastily, pounding you with ferocity and speed from the start. a low, breathy moan escapes him as he relishes the feeling and the sounds of your slick pussy latching onto him. 

“i asked you a question,” jungwon reminds you, looking down at you with a stony expression decorating his face. 

how were you ever supposed to even begin to formulate an answer to his question when jungwon’s long cock was stretching you open, plowing further inside of you than you could ever dream about, and absolutely abusing the most delicate part of your body with hunger.

“sorry! i’m sorry!” you manage to blurt out, moans entwined with your words and you can only hope he accepts it as an answer. 

“i know you are,” jungwon says as he slips his length out of you. he flips your body over, negligent to any discomfort he might cause you; all he’s concerned with is forcing you open. 

you’re laid on your stomach, and jungwon pushes one of your legs upwards, giving himself a clear entrance to the warmth that he can’t wait to bury himself in. 

he rams back into you, his pace just as brutal as before, and the weight of his body against you pins you to the bed. 

“did you think i’d let you walk around here in my shirt and not do anything about it?” jungwon asks with no real expectation of an answer this time. one of his hands grabs onto your hip, mercilessly squeezing as he thrusts into you with increased severity. 

he bites onto your shoulder from behind you, furrowing his brows and groaning near your ear so delightfully as he savors every bit of your divine pussy. 

“you’re so tiny baby, all you can do is lay here and take what i give you,” jungwon says, unable to contain himself at the way your body is trapped underneath his larger frame.

tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you become submerged by jungwon’s relentless pummeling, your clit grazing against the mattress below you. your orgasm was reaching you fast. 

“jungwon, stop!” you suddenly cry, not actually wanting him to stop, your words purely emerging from your internal feud to wrangle (or simply process) the pleasure coursing through your body. 

he would never move on from how breathtaking you looked in this moment. 

“i told you i’d make you cry, baby. even if you think it’s too much, you deserve it,” his words are propelling you further into hysteria than you were ever prepared to reach. 

he grabs one of your wrists, squeezing it and pinning it beside you, as his breath traces your ear in a deep moan. you breathing grows rapid, your legs beginning to quiver beneath him as you cum onto his length, moaning for him beyond your control. jungwon continues to forcefully grace you with his thrusts, unsparing in the way he pounded you through your orgasm. 

“your little pussy can barely take it, baby,” jungwon grabs onto your thigh, letting out low, breathy moans as he floats closer to his high.

you feel overwhelmed as he continues his inhumane treatment of your body, barely recovering from your own orgasm. 

as he reaches his high, he stammers out a groan, gripping your thigh to a painful degree, earning blaring moans from you. 

jungwon collapses onto you, his full weight pressing you further into the mattress, his heavy breath stroking your face. he takes a few moments to caress the side of your body before lifting himself up, and sliding his length out of your exhausted figure. 

“i’ll clean you up, noona,” jungwon gently mutters, leaving the bed to prepare a washcloth. 

when jungwon returns, he carefully turns your body over, noticing just how drained he left you.

“i’m sorry for wearing you out, baby,” he laughs a bit, running the warm, wet towel along your body, massaging the parts of you he punished with his grip. 

“no you’re not,” you jest tiredly, smiling up at your tender boyfriend.

jungwon chuckles. “you’re right, i’m not,” he pokes back, a wide smile stretching out his face when you reach out to slap his chest. 

jungwon lifts your upper body to a sitting position in order to drape his shirt over your frame, gently laying you back onto the bed after you’re dressed. he chuckled at the way your tired muscles nearly gave out from simply sitting up, the blame lying in the rough way he preyed on your body. 

jungwon dresses himself in lounge clothes before joining you on the bed, pulling your body directly against his until your back touched his chest. “you did well for me, baby,” jungwon says, running his hand across the dip of your waist in appreciation. “i’ll try to contain myself while you’re wearing my shirt this time,” jungwon laughs when you contribute to his teasing (much to his enjoyment), and gently elbow him where he lay behind you.

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍

SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basks in the fact that you're ofically his. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. buying reader, kidnapping, general lack of consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, blackmailing, threatening; A/N: Quick reminder. I do not support this kind of behaviour. This is just a piece of fiction and serves as enetrtaimnet purposes only.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 who had bought you.

Earlier that week, unknowingly to you, he visited a small apartment you and your family were occupying. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was aware where and how you were living but it still mortified him how you – his precious darling – could be living like that. 

“You deserve better…more…” he repeated in his head every time he thought about you. Which was always. So it didn't come as a surprise to anyone he had decided to do something about it sooner than later.

Yes, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 greatly appreciated being so warmly welcomed by (his soon to be in-laws) your family. He even witnessed himself from where you got some of your traits from but business needed to be made.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was straight forward from the start.

The deal was simple: he will pay your family a handsome sum of money monthly and you'll belong to him wholly. They'll completely disappear from your life, becoming nothing but a shadow of your past. In his head he knows you won’t need them anymore.

If not, their financial situation which was already bad will be even worse. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 is a man of power and has a lot of money. Your parents, knowing this, quickly understood that it's either willingly giving you away and getting the money or he will forcefully do so with them landing on a street, probably dead.

From the beginning, they had no choice.

"And here you are, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 whispered lovingly into your ear before gently laying you on the king size bed. You were put in a deep sleep by an alcohol you drank during his luxurious party (he threw to celebrate sealing the deal but shhh...) and strong sleeping pills he had added to one of your drinks. He made a mental note to pay the doctor he got them from an extra since you didn't even twitch the whole way you were carried here.

"I hope the bedroom will be to your liking." Your (captor) future husband carefully took off your shoes and laid them by your new bed. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 wanted you to be as comfortable as one person can be. Then he took the neatly folded blanket made from the highest quality silk and processed to snuggly tuck you in. When he finished, you looked like the bed could swallow you at any given moment.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help himself and brought his hand to your head, caressing it while staring at your face in adoration. "If not I'll change it however you like it."

Secretly, he hoped you'll be sharing a bedroom (especially bed) soon.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sat down by your side, the softest mattress he could find easily dipping under him. He didn’t care that he was wrinkling his expensive party wear consisting of a black tuxedo imported straight from Italy that accentuated his lean body in every positive way. He was looking his absolutely best. For you.

"Oh how I love you, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 purred and his fingers ghosted over your cheek. He leaned down close enough to your face that your soft breaths were fanning him. Some of his slicked back hair fell down tickling your forehead. His mesmerizing eyes were gleaming with the passionate and deep rooted love he had for you. "You belong to me."

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sealed your fate with a peck on your lips.

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