#I’m always gonna be on the outside looking in

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: reader is a bit insecure, little sprinkle of jealous eddie, reader wears glasses, smooching, also the finest cheese in all the land (i hope) <3

part one | part two

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this ended up bit longer than i intended so oops. but big thanks to @strangerstilinski for brainstorming some ideas with me to further cheesify the kissing scene. and another HUGE thank you to @undead-supernova for helping me with fix some things and for looking this over. I LOVE YOU BOTH <3

“What do you mean you didn’t kiss him?!”

You quickly turn to give Nancy a pointed glare before digging deeper into your locker to retrieve your biology textbook.

But really, it is a valid question.

“I— just,” you blow out an exasperated breath. “I panicked, alright? Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

While your date didn’t end on a bad note by any means, it definitely ended on a lame one.

When Eddie dropped you off at home after the two of you spent way too much time cozying up in a corner booth at Benny’s— you weren’t entirely ready to say goodnight to him yet.

But when he walked you to your front door and carefully started to lean in, those pesky nerves got the best of you. Instead, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before he had the chance to reach your lips.

Feelings of disappointment clawed at your insides once your lips brushed against the stubble on his cheek instead of his lips, your tinted chapstick leaving a tinge of pink in its wake. 

Eddie cleared his throat, carefully rubbing the back of his neck while he bid you goodnight. 

You’d barely shut the door behind you when your smile faltered and all those feelings of self doubt you’d managed to push aside all night came creeping back in. 

Everything was going so well, why couldn’t you just kiss him? It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed someone before. 

Your first kiss happened your sophomore year, with band geek Ray Howard in King Steve’s coat closet during a stupid game of 7 minutes in heaven that neither of you enjoyed. 

If you were brave enough to do that, why couldn’t you kiss the guy you actually liked? 

“Well, when are you gonna see him again?” Nancy prompts. You shrug once you slam your locker shut.

“I don’t know… I’m afraid he’s not gonna want another date. I mean, I gave him a peck on the cheek! How lame is that.”

You hug your textbooks to your chest as you head to class with Nancy, who is desperately trying to convince you that Eddie would be insane if he didn’t want to see you again.

You just hoped she was right.

When you don’t see him at lunch, you instantly deflate a little. The doom and gloom that lingers outside the school now mirrors your mood, taking any semblance of your appetite with it. You hadn’t seen him all day, so that only seemed to confirm your worries.

He’s avoiding you. What else could it be?

It’s not like him to skip out on lunch, so instead of heading further into the cafeteria you turn heel to head toward the library— 

And almost collide directly into Eddie.

His leather clad arms instantly wrap around you, a teasing smirk playing on his full lips. Lips you so desperately want to feel pressed against your own.

“Sweetheart, we really gotta stop meeting like this,” he teases, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “One of these days you’ll take both of us out.”

You let out a nervous giggle and an apology, relief filling your chest as his smile grows wider in response. Damn Nancy for always being right.

“Where are you headed in such a rush anyway?” he asks, finally letting you go, much to your dismay.

“Uh… the library. Wasn’t feeling super hungry.”

He nods, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He looks even prettier than when you saw him on Friday. His curls are a little more unruly, his stubble more pronounced. 

And when you catch the faintest hint of cigarette smoke lingering on his jacket and how it mixes with his spicy cologne— it has your heart stuttering in your chest.

“Well, anyway, I was wondering…”

A small grunt leaves his lips as his body is forced forward, directly into yours. The jock that just shoulder checked him mutters a “watch it, freaks” under his breath before continuing past you into the cafeteria.

The shove has closed the remaining distance between you, your faces merely inches apart now. Your palms resting against his chest, feeling how his breath slightly quickens beneath your fingertips. You could so easily kiss him like this, all you have to do is tilt your head up…

But you choke, eyes darting back down nervously toward your feet when you take a small step back.

“Are you alright?” you ask, meeting his eyes once more.

Eddie doesn’t even seem phased by what just occurred, his warm eyes entirely still focused on you.

“Oh, that’s nothing, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “I can handle myself.”

Eddie motions to his torso, lifting the lapels of his jacket as if to prove his point.

“See? Not even a scratch.”

And it takes all your self control to keep your eyes from wandering lower, past the soft cotton of his shirt, over the handcuff buckle of his belt…

Focus.

“Now, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” his voice raises in volume, eyes throwing a pointed glare towards the jocks table before they settle back on you. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Eddie nods towards the Hellfire table, your eyes drifting across the cafeteria. The familiar group of males are already seated at their usual spots, engaged in a heated debate over something.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Eddie can sense your hesitation, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I promise they don’t bite.” He grins, beginning to lead you toward the lunch table. “Can’t say the same for me though.”

He whispers that last part, his lips playfully grazing over the shell of your ear. Eddie can feel how you shiver in response, thoroughly satisfied with himself as you try to compose yourself once you reach his friends.

The guys barely spare either of you a passing glance, still deep in their conversation when Eddie pulls up a chair for you. Right at the head of the table next to his own.

You take a seat with a polite smile, each of the members of Hellfire now noticing your presence. And they can’t hide their utter shock and surprise as Eddie takes his seat beside you. He introduces you properly, going along the table until he reaches the two youngest members of Hellfire.

“While we haven’t been able to coax Sinclair back from the dark side,” he sighs, resting his arm on the back of your chair. “You obviously know Wheeler and Henderson already…”

“Oh, Mike knows her alright,” Dustin interjects, mischievously glancing over at his best friend. “He used to have the biggest crush—”

Mike elbows Dustin in the side before he can even finish his sentence, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as he hangs his head.

“Would you shut it?” he hisses, already noting the way Eddie’s gaze hardens as he tugs your chair impossibly closer to his own.

“No… Henderson, please continue.”

A brow quirks up from underneath his bangs, and suddenly the whole table has gone silent, all eyes on their fearless leader.

Dustin nervously swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It was… really stupid kid stuff, not important! Just forget I even brought it up. It was just a dumb— ”

The younger male’s voice raises an octave when he laughs, his nerves shining through.

“— right, just a dumb little crush,” Mike finishes, but Eddie doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

When you suddenly rest your hand on his knee under the table, his composure begins to slip. His eyes soften when he looks down at you. The whole table is practically holding their breath, in anticipation for Eddie’s next move.

But you beat him to it.

“Someone had to be the president of my fan club, right?” you giggle.

Mike just groans in response, head falling to the table while the other guys begin to chatter amongst themselves again, that underlying tension now beginning to melt. Much like you are under the weight of his gaze.

“Well, I’d gladly take over that position, if you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the underlying meaning behind his words, and, god, you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you do right now.

When Eddie slowly begins to lean in, Dustin practically gags, the chiming of the lunch bell stopping everything in its tracks.

“Saved by the bell,” he mutters under his breath.

The brunette unwillingly rises to his feet and reaches out a hand for you to take, keeping you closely tucked into his side while he walks you to your next class.

Your mind was racing the rest of the afternoon, impatiently watching the hand on the clock tick by ever so slowly— desperately waiting for the final bell to ring.

After Eddie had walked you to history, he planted a playful kiss to the back of your hand. Giving you a dramatic bow before heading in the opposite direction toward Ms. O’Donnell’s classroom. 

You were a fumbling mess once when you took your seat next to Nancy, and you could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to know everything.

So you spilled the beans during your walk to English afterwards, a plan beginning to form in your head with each step closer to Ms. O’Donnell’s.

Three failed kissing attempts was all your poor heart could take, so you spent the entirety of the last period plotting how you’d be able to get Eddie alone.

Which was how you found yourself pacing back and forth on the football field, eyes scanning the trees for any possible signs of movement. The palms of your hands are sweaty despite the crisp air, the fabric of your sneakers dampening with each step you take through the wet grass.

And you’re wondering if maybe this was a stupid idea, that maybe you heard Jeff wrong.

You knew Eddie dealt weed, the whole school did. But having never dabbled with the leafy substance yourself, you weren’t exactly sure where he made his deals at. So it was a stroke of luck when you overheard Jeff mention it in passing to Grant during English.

Something about how he was going to be late for rehearsal because some jock wanted to buy a bunch of reefer behind the football field. And who was Eddie to refuse a good sale? Especially when the douche was offering him a lot of money.

You’re abruptly broken out of your thoughts when you finally see his lanky figure emerging from the tree line and your heart kicks into first gear— about ready to burst out of your chest with each step he takes towards you.

His curls are a little damp from the mist hanging in the air, that signature dimple indenting his cheek when a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

And despite your nerves, it’s a welcomed sight.

“Well, I didn’t take you for a stoner, sweetheart,” he begins.

But you don’t give him the chance to give you a proper greeting before you’re springing into action. Your fingers curl into the collar of his denim vest, meeting him halfway as you lean up to press your lips to his…

Only to end up knocking your heads together instead.

A small grunt of pain leaves him and your stomach twists in embarrassment, fingers gently pressing against your forehead as you wince.

“Oh my god, I am so—”

Those words barely have a chance to slip past your lips before he tilts your chin up and carefully molds his mouth over yours. His movements are slow but steady, as if gauging your response.

Your body reacts before your mind can fully process what’s happening, instinctively reeling him in closer and pressing your lips more firmly against his own. He hums softly, the sound setting your whole body alight.

As Eddie slips one of his hands around your waist, the other reaches up to tenderly cup your cheek. And when he begins to guide you backwards, you let him. Only stopping once your back is flush against the goal post. But even then, he doesn’t stop kissing you.

You can feel the cool metal seeping through the thin layer of your jacket, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface of your skin. But even with the cool air continuing to nip at your exposed skin, you feel like you’re on fire.

His lips are like molten honey, sugary sweet and practically melting you to your core. And you swear this is the closest to heaven you’ve ever felt.

When he eventually pulls away and you take a shuddering breath in, your eyes remain closed. You’re practically on cloud nine, basking in the lingering tingles that prickle over your lips. His hand remains on your cheek, thumb brushing over where his lips just were.

Eddie suddenly lets out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating against your chest while his breath washes over the apples of your cheeks. Only then do your eyes flutter open and you realize the reason behind his amusement.

Your vision is completely obscured, the round lenses of your glasses fogged over from the heat of his breath. You can just barely make out his smile through the frames, but the silliness of the moment has you letting out a giggle of your own.

“May I?” he asks, the tips of his fingers grazing over where the arms of your glasses meet your temples.

You nod immediately, allowing him to remove them with the utmost care. He untucks his Judas Priest t-shirt from his jeans, using the soft cotton to clear the fog away from your lenses. Even with your blurred vision, you manage to catch a glimpse of his tummy before it’s hidden away beneath his shirt again.

When his eyes flick up to meet yours, he can’t help but feel like he’s really seeing you for the first time. Not hidden away behind a book or the thick wire frames of your glasses. Just you, in all your unbridled beauty.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he carefully places your glasses back onto the bridge of your nose.

Eddie just grins, leaning his forearm on the goal post above your head. He smells faintly like weed and peppermint gum, and you really want him to kiss you again.

“How’s about I give you a ride home, hm?”

You can’t hide your smile, nodding your head enthusiastically.

“I’d really like that.”

Eddie leans down to press one more searing kiss to your lips before he slips his hand in yours and pulls you along. The two of you now walking hand in hand across the football field.

“So, sounds like I’ve got some competition with Wheeler, huh?” he teases, squeezing your hand a little tighter in his.

“Oh come on, you’ve never had a crush on a babysitter before?”

Eddie takes a step in front of you, beginning to walk backwards while simultaneously guiding you forward.

“Well… considering my only babysitter was starting to bald and my uncle,” he practically shudders, “I’m gonna say no, sweetheart.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[jobean12-blog]

For the Love of Plants...and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (plant!dad Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,229

Summary: You and Bucky go shopping for new plants and he has the best idea.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @sagechanoafterdark shared this wonderful little idea with me and I was so happy to have inspiration for more plant!dad Bucky! YAY! Thanks so much Sage! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's soft, sweet and fun, spicy and silly, some implied sexy times and Bucky is delish.

*If you want to read more about plant!dad Bucky you can find his other stories on his Masterlist labeled with 'plant!dad Bucky AU'*

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else doll?”

You look up from the current plant in front of you and stare unblinkingly for a moment before bursting into giggles.

Bucky’s arms are full of plants and his handsome face is obscured by various leaves and flowers.

You sift through the flora that hides him and find his blue eyes bright and crinkled at the corners with his wide smile.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…you’re so cute.”

His cheeks become tinged with a flush of pink and you lean through the leaves to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for carrying everything. We really need to start getting a cart.”

“Nah doll, then we’ll go home with even more plants. And you don’t have room for more plants. At least this way we are limited to what I can carry.”

“What are you saying Bucky?” you ask with feigned shock.

He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that he thinks you’re serious.

You open your mouth to speak and reassure him you were just teasing but he beats you to it and says, “I’m going to build you new shelves.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

“Doll?” he asks, trying to see you from around the armfuls of plants.

“You want…you want to build me shelves for my plants?”

He finds a free space on the plant stand outside and places a few down so he can actually see you.

“Yeah. Of course. I want you to have all the plants you can fit.”

“I didn’t know you could build things.”

Your voice comes out slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a devious smirk.

“Sounds like you like that I can do that,” he murmurs as he slips his free arm around your waist and tucks you into his side. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm,” you hum, laying your flat palm against his chest. “Very good actually.”

He dips his head to capture your lips, lingering with a soft kiss that has your fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Do you have a tool belt?” you ask him when he finally pulls away.

“I do.”

“You should do it shirtless. So, you don’t get too warm.”

“So shirtless with my toolbelt. Anything else?”

You tap your chin playfully.

“Your dark wash jeans. The really fitted ones.”

“Is this some secret fantasy you have?”

You bury your face in his neck and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t until you said you could build me shelves!” you squeak.

“This is gonna be fun,” he simpers as he releases you to grab the plants again. “Let’s go check out.”

As promised, later that day Bucky shows up at your place in his dark jeans with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” you ask.

He covers his laugh with a cough and grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t want to take the train shirtless.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You answer. “Right.”

He laughs. “Right.”

“I know you think this is hilarious, but you don’t understand…”

His expression softens. “What do you mean doll?”

“It means a lot to me that you’d do this, and you support my love of plants.”

“Of course I would. And of course I do. And you know I love plants too.”

“I know, but even if you didn’t I just know you’d do it anyway.”

He brushes his lips lightly across yours, holding your gaze as he whispers, “I would.”

“Can we take this off now?” you ask as your fingers slide down his chest and under the hem of his shirt.

“Sure.”

He kicks the door shut with his booted foot and lifts his arms above his head. You start to peel the shirt from his body, the action deliberate as you watch every inch of his toned stomach come into view.

After staring at the distinct V shape at his hips you focus on the dark trail of hair just under his belly button then practically let out a moan when his abs flex and move as he shimmies.

“This is like porn,” you sigh dreamily.

That makes him laugh and he gets tangled in the sleeves of his tee.

You keep staring, enjoying all the shifting muscles of his torso.

“Little help here doll face.”

“Oh!...sorry Buck!”

You slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, letting your fingertips run along the smooth metal of his left arm.

“There. Perfect.”

He takes you in his arms and spins you around until your back is against the door. Trapping you in place he settles both hands on either side of your head.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs. “Not sure I can get to work just yet.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “Look at you.”

Your finger slips into the waistband of his jeans, and you give him a sharp tug, drawing him closer.

His hips press into your stomach, and you feel the hard length of him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and toy with the button of his jeans before running your fingers along the leather of his tool belt.

The muscles in his stomach tense every time your skin touches his and you watch his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheeks with his barely controlled restraint.

His toolbelt drops to the floor with a loud thud and you pull the zipper of his jeans down.

“Doll,” he hisses when your hand slips inside his jeans.

You slide down to your knees, taking his jeans with you.

“Fuck you look so perfect on your knees for me,” he grits out.

You stretch out along the hard wood floor and press yourself against him.

Bucky’s fingers soothingly slide up and down your arm, his eyes closed and his breathing finally even.

“You need to make me a list of all the things you want me to build,” he says.

You laugh as you twirl a strand of his hair between your fingers. “It will be the longest list ever.”

“It better be,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pinning them on you. “I’ll building anything and everything if we can start every project like that.”

You kiss his neck, working your way to his chin and then along his jaw before climbing on top of him and kissing his lips.

“Deal!”

His hands are soft as they reverently trace the curve of your hips and waist. “You know what we still have to do?” he asks.

“What?” you smile.

“Name all the new plants!”

Your smile widens. “WE DO!”

You kiss him again and reluctantly move off him so he can get up. Once you’re both dressed, Bucky sans shirt of course, he starts working on the shelves.

You hold up one of your new plants, Devil’s ivy, and twirl the pot between your fingers, gently fingering the leaves.

“What do you think Buck?” you ask. “How about…Spaghetti!”

He looks up from the wood in his hands and nods with a smile. “That’s a good one, especially for the ivy.”

As soon as he finishes the thought his stomach promptly grumbles, making you both laugh.

“I’m just going to name these last two then I’ll start dinner…how does spaghetti sound?”

“Perfect doll face. It sounds perfect.”

[theshift]

The Breakout

Before everything fell apart, Marcus had a life that he was proud of. He wasn’t some thug or low-life; he had his routines, his ambitions. Boxing was his escape, the one place where he felt in control. He spent hours in the gym, the sound of fists hitting heavy bags and the smell of sweat filling the air as he trained. There was something about the discipline, the focus, the rhythm of a good fight that made the chaos of the outside world fade away. He wasn’t a pro, but he was good—damn good—and he was starting to get noticed. On weekends, he’d run along the river, feeling the early morning breeze, imagining his next match. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was his, and he had a future lined up. That was before it all got ripped away—before he was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, that life seemed like a distant dream, one he’d never wake up to again. The real world, the one he’d worked so hard for, felt like it had vanished forever.

Marcus had been in prison for two long months. His life had been ripped away, and now he was just another inmate waiting for judgment in a system that didn’t care.

But even worse than being locked up was dealing with Officer Nathan, the patrol officer who took sick pleasure in making Marcus’s life miserable. Nathan was cruel. Every day he found a new way to degrade Marcus. Whether it was spilling his food on the ground or shouting insults that cut deeper than the metal bars around him, Nathan loved to remind Marcus who was in control.

Today had been no different. As Marcus sat on his cot, his mind still reeling from the news of his sentencing—fifteen years—Nathan showed up at his cell with that same smirk.

“Well, well, look at you. Fifteen years, huh? Guess you’re gonna rot here for a while,” Nathan sneered, leaning against the bars. “Bet you thought you’d get off easy. But nobody cares about some low-life scum like you.”

Marcus clenched his fists, staring at the floor. He couldn’t believe it. Fifteen years for something he didn’t do. His whole life—gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to ignore Nathan’s voice.

“You know what the best part is?” Nathan continued, his voice dripping with cruelty. “You’ll be here, getting old and wasting away, while I’m out there. Free. Living my life. Makes you wonder why you even bother fighting, doesn’t it?”

Marcus’s body tensed. “I didn’t do it.”

Nathan barked out a laugh. “Sure, that’s what they all say. Keep telling yourself that, Marcus. Doesn’t change a damn thing.” He tapped the bars with his baton, a sharp clink ringing out. “You belong here. And I’m going to make sure every day feels like hell for you. Count on it.”

Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. The injustice, the humiliation—it all boiled inside him. He couldn’t live like this, not for fifteen years. His hands shook, his breath coming in sharp gasps as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry. Go ahead,” Nathan jeered. “Cry like the pathetic loser you are.”

Something snapped inside Marcus.

“You think you’re untouchable,” Marcus muttered, his voice low, trembling with rage.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

Marcus slowly lifted his head, eyes burning with something darker, something Nathan had never seen before. “You think you’re better than me because you’re on that side of the bars? Because you can do whatever you want to people like me?”

Nathan chuckled, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now. “Yeah, I do. What are you gonna do about it?”

Marcus’s lips twisted into a cold smile as he stood up, his body humming with a power he had always kept hidden, a power he had refused to use until now. His gaze locked onto Nathan, and the room seemed to thrum with a strange energy.

Nathan stepped back from the bars, suddenly on edge. “What’s your deal, man? Sit down before you do something stupid.”

But Marcus didn’t stop. His eyes were like burning coals, and a strange pressure filled the air around them. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, feeling the dark energy swirling within him like a storm, ready to be unleashed.

He had never wanted to use his gift, but this was different. This was survival.

Marcus's body felt weightless as he reached out mentally, a strange, ethereal sensation that began to rise from the depths of his chest. The connection to Nathan was immediate—a tether of energy, dark and tangible, latching onto him like invisible chains. Marcus’s mind surged toward Nathan, slipping through the cracks of his consciousness, feeling his presence as if it were a physical thing.

The shift was sudden, a jarring sensation that sent Nathan stumbling backward. His hands shot up to his head, as if he could physically block Marcus’s intrusion, but it was already too late. Marcus could feel Nathan’s mind now—panicked, scattered, full of raw terror.

“No—what are you doing?” Nathan’s voice was sharp, trembling with fear.

Marcus’s smile widened. His consciousness flooded Nathan’s mind like dark water, consuming him, pushing past every mental wall the officer tried to erect. It was a slow process, deliberate, like sinking into quicksand, inch by inch, until Nathan’s screams became muffled in the back of his own mind.

Nathan staggered back against the wall, his body twitching as Marcus took over. From the outside, it looked like Nathan was having some kind of seizure, his face contorting in shock as his limbs jerked, resisting the possession. But Marcus was relentless. He pushed deeper, feeling his own awareness settle into Nathan’s body as though slipping on a perfectly tailored suit.

Nathan's mind screamed, trapped now as a mere voice, a presence that Marcus could feel but had full control over. “Stop! Get out! You can’t do this!”

Marcus ignored him. He flexed Nathan’s fingers, feeling the strength of his new form. The once-familiar prison walls looked different through Nathan’s eyes—sharper, crisper. Marcus rolled his shoulders, testing the muscles that now responded to his command.

Inside, Nathan’s terror grew. “What are you—get out of my body!”

Marcus’s laugh, low and cruel, rumbled through Nathan’s throat. “Oh, Nathan… you’re not in charge anymore.”

With one final surge of effort, Marcus forced Nathan’s consciousness into the back of his mind, shoving him deep into a corner, trapping him in the prison of Marcus’s old body. Nathan was now locked away, his pleas for help falling on deaf ears as Marcus stood tall in his stolen skin.

Nathan, now trapped in Marcus’s body, staggered forward, horrified at the sight of his own hands—Marcus’s hands—reaching out toward him, mocking him. He tried to scream, but Marcus simply sneered. “Enjoy being on the other side of those bars. I’ll make sure to give you the same treatment you gave me.”

Marcus felt the real Nathan's panic, buried deep inside his old body, helpless and confused, as the guards dragged him away. “No! You don’t understand—I’m not Marcus! I’m Nathan! Please!”

But no one listened. To everyone else, it was just Marcus losing his mind.

Meanwhile, Marcus—now fully in control of Nathan’s body—strolled through the prison halls, relishing the newfound power. Nathan’s voice screamed in the back of his head, but Marcus simply tuned him out, reveling in the freedom and control he had never felt before.

“You’ve had your fun, Nathan,” Marcus muttered under his breath, his voice sounding strange but powerful. “Now it’s my turn.”

Nathan was trapped inside Marcus’s body, powerless, screaming silently as Marcus turned and walked down the hallway in his new form. The other guards greeted him with nods of respect, completely unaware of the switch.

As Marcus settled into Nathan's body, something unexpected surfaced from the officer's memories—Nathan was secretly into men. Hidden beneath his tough exterior and cruel demeanor was a desire he had never dared to act on, a truth he kept buried deep, afraid of what it would mean for his image as the hardened officer. And to Marcus's surprise, Nathan had even found him attractive, though he would have never admitted it. The irony was delicious.

Now, with full control of Nathan's body, Marcus realized he could have the life Nathan was too scared to embrace. He wasted no time. With Nathan’s face, his fit build, and authority, Marcus quickly began to attract attention, something Nathan had always fantasized about but never had the nerve to act on. Marcus, on the other hand, had no qualms about indulging in what Nathan had suppressed. Within days, he had hooked up with men who were drawn to his new appearance—something Nathan had always dreamed of but never had the courage to pursue. It wasn’t just about the power; it was about taking Nathan’s secret desires and living them out in ways Nathan never could.

More days passed, and Marcus, now in Nathan’s body, relished every moment of his new life. He took over Nathan’s duties, tormenting the real Nathan—trapped inside Marcus’s old body. Every time Marcus walked by, he could see the fear in his own face, the panic in Nathan’s eyes as he tried to tell the guards what had happened.

“Nobody’s listening, Nathan,” Marcus whispered one day as he passed by the cell. “They think you’ve lost it. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Nathan, trapped and powerless, screamed, banging on the bars of the cell. “Stop this! Please! I’m not Marcus! I’m not him!”

But no one believed him. To the other guards, he was just another inmate losing his mind.

Marcus continued his life as Nathan, basking in the power that came with it. He spent a week tormenting the real Nathan, letting the other guards treat him the same way Nathan had treated Marcus. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and he loved every second of it.

One day, Marcus stood in front of a mirror in Nathan’s office, staring at the reflection of Nathan’s face. A thought struck him.

“Why waste this? Why stay here as some low-life prison officer?” he murmured to himself. He grinned, running a hand over Nathan’s strong jawline. “I could do so much more.”

The next morning, Marcus handed in Nathan’s resignation. He was done with this place, with this pathetic life. He had bigger plans. He left the prison behind without a second glance, the real Nathan screaming in his own body, now doomed to serve the sentence Marcus was supposed to endure.

And Marcus? He moved to the city, reinvented himself as a model. Nathan’s looks, once wasted on cruelty, now served Marcus well. The spotlight loved him, and he embraced his new life, his new identity.

As Marcus rose to fame, Nathan remained locked in a cell, forgotten, living the nightmare he had once created for others.

And Marcus? He was finally free.

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris pt 4

this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe

summer of 2019

Silverstone Circuit, England

y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world. 

however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.  

now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.

after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane. 

after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?

if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”. 

stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock. 

in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together. 

they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”

_____

taglist

@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47

[lilacgaby]

Firstly I wanna say I love your writing and although I’m very new to your page I’m OBSESSED 🤩

This is my first request ever so I hope I’m doing this correctly. ANYWAYS- I was hoping for like an ice hockey au where it’s like bakugou playing midoroya’s team and bakugou doesn’t like the way deku is looking at reader in the stands even though bakugou and readers relationship isn’t public and they fight and all that good stuff.

Thanks I totally appreciate you! Hope you’re well and have a great day!!

title: iced out.

pairing: hockeyplayer!bakugo x girlfriend!reader

"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."

note: my love you're so smart omgg, i loved this au! ty for the support i hope this is a good read <3

it was the match up of the season.

everyone knew of the rivalry between bakugo and midoriya, every match they'd have would end in shoves, bloodied noses, bruises, and cards called. the audience was thankful for the dividers that kept them safe from the confrontations that would always break out in corners, bakugo usually pushing midoriya away forcefully into them just to get control of the puck.

you were there at that match for katsuki after the matches, waiting outside the locker rooms to drive home. you knew first hand just how much he wanted to win against midoriya. he'd confessed to you how they used to be close friends, but after midoriya 'lied' about getting excepted into an overseas junior team, he had been ostracized from katsuki's life.

they hadn't faced each other since last season, the bracket hadn't allowed for it. until today.

you, katsuki's girlfriend since before he got drafted into a team, were pepping him up before the first interval. his teammates already knew about you, but the public didn't.

katsuki preferred in this way, he thought. saying "those damn publicists would shove cameras and mics down our throats if they knew." you didn't mind either way, the bile of jealousy at every woman who thought they had a chance with katsuki going away after multiple times of him cursing them out.

katsuki had never had to experience that though, not until today.

you were in the stands, the front row of one of the many sections in the rink. it was a full house today, but you stood out because of your limited edition jersey given to you by katsuki himself.

while the practice period was going on, he was calming himself down. his coach had told him that a clear head is all he needed to beat midoriya into a pulp, or something like that. 'easy shit.' he thought.

but like a shark who smelled blood, his pupils dilated severely as he saw him throwing a puck to you. you caught it, raising your hand to thank him and you let an appreciative smile, flipping it over to see his number on the back of it (how did he even write that?). at your shocked expression, he laughed.

and he had the audacity to make a phone sign with his hand after?

oh, he was gonna need to call someone once bakugo was done with him, he was sure of it.

the promise of calm was gone as fast as it came, an impossibly angrier katsuki coming back as he finished warm ups.

at the sound of the timer, katsuki played aggressive. the first 20 minutes was full of this mentally. he was rushing in and hitting, shoving anyone in his way. he 'accidentally' launched the puck into midoriya's helmet at the fifteen minute mark.

the teams managed to stay even though, but katsuki was scoring a majority of the points for his team. the only thing in his way was midoriya, like always.

midoriya, who kept his eyes locked on you while the puck wasn't in play. who kept waving to his fans, but sending winks to you.

katsuki had decided to murder him. or rather, his team.

he hit another puck in easily, already having the game be the highest scoring one in the league for the year. midoriya managed to match one up again, barely keeping on his heels.

the score was now 5-5, katsuki wanted to finish it in this interval. going into a sudden death overtime would just be too tiring.

they were tied again with only 2 minutes left on the clock. all it took was midoriya to eye you again, that was enough to spite bakugo.

with a minute left he finally got control of the puck, as midoriya got in his way. katsuki predicted a fake out, and sent the puck flying with a curve.

as the keeper missed, and with 3 seconds left.

he scored.

the arena cheered, the cameras caught on midoriya's smirk and small claps, the pissed off looks from midoriya's teammates, and the celebration of katsuki's team.

they had to play again to let the puck slide for 3 seconds, out of courtesy, but katsuki took a victory lap, looking straight at you.

the second he was free he walked straight through the rink, much to his manager's dismay. this caught the attention of the media, who had all eyes on him. he saw none of it, passing by fans without a care in the world as he grabbed your face and kissed you, making you drop the puck.

midoriya was seen with an 'ohhh' expression on his face as the rink went crazy, flashes all in your faces as katsuki pulled back, hips lips now smeared with your lip gloss. you two were on the jumbotron, and you awkwardly waved as the attention was focused on you two suddenly.

"didn't i tell you so? these losers are breathing down our throats."

"yeah, oh my god kats' your eye!" you gasped as you saw the bruise starting to form over his eye.

he wore a stupid smirk on his face as you fussed over him. his eyes squinted as he saw the rival team give themselves 'good luck next times' and 'we'll get em back's. midoriya in particular was being the captain as always, cheering up his team though occasionally looking back at you. katsuki sneered, he won the game and the girl! take that deku.

"why do you have that dumbass look on your face?"

"hah?! my face isn't dumb woman!"

[queen-of-deans-booty]

On The Run

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: angst, fearing for your life

Summary: You’re on the run from someone very dangerous. You’re always looking over your shoulder, fearful that he is going to be right there and drag you back into Hell. You have a son to protect and you’ll do anything to make sure he is safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself.

Square Filled: silence (2021) for @spndarkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been ten minutes since you got the call, and you’re doing your best to pack whatever you and your son might need. He’s still sleeping since it’s three in the morning, but you’re running around your room throwing things in your suitcase--only the things you absolutely need. Everything else can be replaced later. Once you’re done with your suitcase, you walk into your son’s room to pack his suitcase.

Your son is a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t wake as you’re packing his suitcase, but he does wake when you scoop him into your arms.

“What’s going on, Mommy?” he asks sleepily.

“We’re going to live with Aunt Kathy for a while.”

“Why?”

“We’re going on a trip. Just you and me. We need to go now.”

“I’m tired,” he whines.

“Let me just get you into the car and you can sleep, baby.”

You keep your son propped up on your hip while grabbing both suitcases. You rush out to the car and place your son in his car seat before shoving the suitcases in the back. Tyler immediately falls asleep, and you rush back into the house for a last-minute grab. Inside the closet is a safe that contains the most important things you’ll ever own, and you punch in the code and rip the door open. You grab important documents and your gun with special bullets. There is only one thing left in there, and the shiny diamond shines brightly. It pains you to think about what this ring means but you can’t leave this behind.

There is a sliver of hope that everything is going to be fine which is why you can’t leave it behind. You take the ring, head back out to the car, and get in. You pull away from the house you once loved and start the five-hour drive to your sister’s house. When you get to the freeway, your phone rings to let you know you have a text message.

Unknown: Lay low for a few days. I’ll come get you and bring you somewhere where he can’t find you.

You let out a shaky breath and look at your son through the rearview mirror. Tyler is your entire world. You can’t let anything happen to him. You moving to your sister’s house and eventually a new safe location is what’s best for him even if he doesn’t see it.

It’s early when you get to your sister’s house, but you called her right after dawn to let her know you were coming. Tyler and your sister’s kids get along great, so he is happy to play with his cousins while you and your sister sit outside to discuss what’s going on.

“You know I’m happy to have you, but what’s going on? What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“He’s back, and he’s coming for us.”

“You came here?” Kathy sighs. “I love you and Tyler, and I’ll always want to help, but you’re putting my kids at risk.”

“I know but it’s only for a few days. Sam is gonna come get us and bring us somewhere else when he can.”

Kathy pauses and thinks about your words.

“Do you think he’ll find you here?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. He never knew where you lived before, so I don’t think so.”

“Fine, you can stay for a few days. I still have the salt and iron plus that demon knife you made me.”

“I wish that would help. All of that would only piss him off.”

“What will kill him?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. Kathy isn’t happy about any of this, and you feel terrible for bringing her in the middle of your shit. “I didn’t know where else to go, Kathy. My son is in danger.”

“I know,” she whispers. “We’ll figure it out.”

The first two days go by without any issues. Tyler loves spending time with his cousins and staying up late with them while you’re crying yourself to sleep every night. Another day goes by without a single word from Sam, and you’re starting to get concerned. If he says he’ll get you in a few days, best believe he’ll keep true to his word. What if something happened to him?

What if he got to him?

On the fourth day, you’re home alone with Tyler while your sister is out with her kids for a doctor’s appointment. Tyler is watching cartoons and coloring while you’re folding laundry in the living room. It’s not extremely dark outside but it is dark enough to have light on inside the house. Normally, you’d open the curtains and allow the sunlight to light up the rooms. However, the sun is inching closer to the horizon so the curtains are closed and the lights are on.

Tyler giggles at something SpongeBob does when the TV turns off. In fact, all of the lights turn off. The smile on your face from hearing your son laugh is now wiped off as dread creeps up your spine. Every single hair on the back of your neck stands up because you know he found you.

He’s here.

“Mommy?”

“Tyler, come on.” You grab Tyler’s hand and pull him up the stairs. The house isn’t completely dark but it’s not super light either. You tug Tyler to Kathy’s bedroom and pull him into her closet before shutting the door. “I need you to be extra quiet, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?”

“Yes.”

The entire house falls into a deadly silence. The fear of the unknown makes you want to cry but you cannot give your position away. It’s foolish to think that he won’t be able to find you but you’re holding onto that sliver of hope. You pull Tyler close to you and run your hands through his hair to try and calm yourself down.

“Tyler,” his voice drawls from the staircase. You close your eyes and try your best not to let the tears fall. “Tyler, you in here?”

“You’re doing so good, baby. Keep being quiet,” you whisper into his ear.

His heavy footsteps climb up the stairs slowly. You know he’s stomping just so you can hear where he is. He stops at the top of the stairs, walks toward Kathy’s bedroom, and opens the door. It creaks slightly and you shake in fear.

“Tyler, I have candy. It’s your favorite. Come on, buddy, don’t you want Kit-Kats?”

Your son gasps happily at the thought of munching on the sweet treat.

“No, don’t do it,” you whisper. “Don’t move.”

“Tyler, come on out. I have five big chocolate bars for you. Don’t you want a treat?” Tyler squirms out of your arms and runs out of the closet toward his father. The tears fall down knowing you’ve been found, and you take out your phone with shaky hands. “Hey, buddy. Good boys get candy. Now, where’s Mommy?”

“In the closet!”

Shit. You struggle to unlock your phone and pull up the phone app when you finally get it unlocked. You’re in the middle of dialing Sam’s number when the closet door opens. You look up at the man you once loved with all your heart.

“I found you, baby.” Dean kneels down, plucks your phone out of your hand, and slides it into his pocket. “Sam isn’t coming. He sent me instead.”

He reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you fight the urge to sob. His eyes flash from beautiful forest green to dark-as-the-night black. Dean used to be the love of your life until he died and became the thing from your worst nightmare. He took care of you and Tyler until his dying breath, and now he’s back with a vengeance.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me? Good girls get candy.”

“Fuck off,” you spit. “Just leave us alone.”

Dean’s look hardens and he wraps his hand around your throat. He doesn't squeeze but he makes sure you understand the threat.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband. You wouldn’t want Tyler to see Mommy and Daddy fighting, would you?”

You’re trapped. You don’t know how you’ll be able to escape. You did it before when he was in that dead state. Sam got you and Tyler the hell out of dodge as soon as Dean died. The tears fall as you shake your head, and Dean smirks, returning his eyes back to their green color.

“Good girl. Come on out. We have a lot to discuss.”

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[bloop-bl00p]

Alastor could have been Native American

Before anyone screams racism, removal of representation, or whatever I redirect you to my post about the Voodoo representation of the show.

→ HERE ←

First thing first, Alastor is not a Wendigo but his cannibalism aspect led to fans believing the contrary, a belief that was pushed further with him being a deer. Wendigoes aren’t related to deer at all, they mostly look like men who are visibly starved and all. The deer thing came from pop culture.

Now you’re gonna ask..

“You’re all for representing properly religion and culture why would you want him to be American Indian if he’s not a proper wendigo?”

He could be a skinwalker with small elements of wendigo.

Here’s a small rewrite

It’s not related to Hell’s Safe Haven, I’ll be doing something different, feel free to take the idea for your oc if you want. But remember, Always do research :)

Why a skinwalker? They are shamans who started as healers but broke taboos from the culture which involve using their ability for harm and curses. If you’re smart then you should see where I’m going with this.

Rather than being an “evil voodoo man” Alastor could have been a shaman who transgressed important rules and became a skinwalker, one of these taboos is murdering a close relative to align with darker powers which pretty much fits for Alastor. Obliviously, you don’t villainize the whole culture, you can still show that shamanism, when not perverted by skinwalkers, can do good. Alastor’s mother could have also been a shaman and went to Heaven.

He could still have been a serial killer, stalking and learning the routine of his victims before killing them. Then he could have died in the snow because hunters noticed his activities in the forest, thanks to their dogs smelling the putrid flesh of the bodies he was carrying around, and then he got shot. Or you can have it that he managed to escape but got lost and had to eat part of the corpse he managed to get with him, but he also had to use their skin to not try and protect himself from the cold in vain partially linking him to Wendigoes.

In Hell, he could have looked like a starved disturbing-looking deer, starved because of wendigos and deer because that’s the animals he favored the most to lure people. In terms of powers, he could have the ability to reproduce people's voices through electronics mainly using radios to do so. A cool detail could be that these voices sound slightly disturbing and fake.

He completely took a more charming and refined aesthetic once in Hell to appeal to and manipulate others more easily. Skinwalkers are described as carrying bones I guess that could help for a possible redesign. Since his appearance is quite scary he could wear a hat to hide his face.

The actual critic

This is really a surface-level thing, it's a first draft based on Wikipedia, but you can’t say that it’s not remotely much more cohesive than whatever Viv is doing with Alastor.

This is something that absolutely frustrates me with the Hellaverse, Viv has very surface-level concepts, and she doesn't do enough research to bring them to their potential. It happens with Voodoo, the Goetia, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the whole pantheon of biblical figures.

What she does is she takes these cool ideas and slaps them onto her oc without much thought.

Take an example with Andrealphus, he teaches math and geometry so one of my first thought is to give me space manipulation. This means he can basically change your location in an enclosed space, turn an entire room around, and twist it to his liking. With his knowledge of maths and geometry, he knows what to do specifically to make you land exactly where he wants which makes him extremely hard to fight inside a house, especially if it’s a big place.

He could also completely reshape the laws of geometry and physics, how funny would it be to see that he lives in a small house, not taking much place but then you go outside and discover it’s basically a whole castle? It’s generic but it makes sense and makes places for lots of interesting scenes for fights or just aesthetics.

Vivziepop chose to give him ice power, for some reason. I mean math isn’t really an attractive notion in terms of supernatural abilities but you can still do something interesting with it. Unless his castle is a geometrical wet dream, I don’t see a possible link between the two. It’s a matter of creativity and the willingness to do research to cultivate it, she doesn't have that.

If you just slap very specific labels (like voodoos) on a character without thinking about how it could work for them and affect the world around them (if voodoo works then the Lwas exists), then not only you are not doing your “job” as a writer but you are just doing it for the aesthetic. It’s not wrong to do if it’s mundane things like saying that one character knows how to speak Latin, but in some cases, you gonna have to be careful about what you write in your stories.

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 7 college!simon x reader. Gahhh this is melting my stony black little heart 🥺 pls leave feedback! Always appreciated! And reblogs, likes are appreciated.

Masterlist here ✉️

“Work…with you?”

“It ain’t a request. I’m tellin’ ya.”

Was all that echoed in your mind as you sat in your bed. Between how he stepped in for you—defending you and now offering you a job—you were startled.

Why did he suddenly care so much?

What changed?

You wondered, eyes roaming around your room. You sipped your tea, trying to stay warm amidst the cold front outside. Simon.

He was a real piece of work.

You had to know more. You felt like there were questions you had about the job—and most importantly Simon. You got up, setting your tea aside on your desk. You threw over an oversized zip up, your hair messed up and left down. You shoved your feet in your slippers before making up way to his door—which was shut.

You knocked. You waited for a minute, then the sound of creaking, groaning, and heavy footsteps commenced. Your pulse quickened and you pinched gently at your arm to steady yourself.

Enough of that—

When Simon opened the door, his hair was a rugged mess, arm leaning up against the door frame, the other resting on the knob to hold it. His brow cocked in confusion—but then realization crossed when he saw you. “You ere’ bout the job?”

“That I am. You gonna make me stand or do I have to barge in?” You said, jokingly, although heart fluttering at the sight of him.

Simon scratched at his stubble before glancing behind him. Almost as if he were self conscious or guarding his room. Not that you were a threat, right?

As you looked at him, you had to admit this overgrown stubble look suited him. Even with the scars.

“A’right. The flat ain’t Devil Wears Prada, so don’ expect much.” Simon grumbled, although his face was flat. He moved aside, big frame against the wall as he watched you slither past. Your sweater brushed his chest and his breath caught momentarily.

He then shut the door, alone with you.

“Payback, you were once in my room.” You snickered, sensing how uncomfortable he felt with you in his personal space, standing in the middle. You tilted your head at the various records hung on his walls, posters that were falling down. Jackets hung neatly in his half open closet, shoes tucked inside. Although a pair of boots stood outside—most likely for convenience. His usual rugged distressed worker boots.

Simon felt odd watching you. It was like his heart had a mind of its own, speeding up when you tilted your head, and leaned to watch his objects. It had been a while since he had a lass up in his room. He shifted and then sat his form at the edge of his bed, torso angled to you. One leg folded inward. He then chose a topic, most likely trying to get under your skin for amusement.

“Fixin’ ya damn window. It was easy.”

“Oh. Right. Because you’re 7ft tall, and I’m 3ft tall.”

Your eyes caught onto his trash can. It was filled and you narrowed your eyes. Your cup was sitting at the edge, from the hot cocoa you’d given him.

You grinned, now you had something to wield and head butt him with.

“You still have that in your room? It’s been over a week.”

“Been busy.” His gruff tone sounded behind you. Simon was glad you weren’t looking, because now his ears and neck were flushed pink. He cursed himself inwardly.

As you roamed and checked out his desk, seeing the pens and pencils for drawing, it piqued your interest. Ink pens, charcoal, and an eraser. Little lamp to the side as you saw when you first met him. A leather jacket lay folded over the chair—“Lieutenant,” written all over. That caught your attention.

He noticed where your attention was, arms folded now, as his eyes tracked you like a hawk. The bed shifted and he tipped his head slightly.

“Easy there, wot, you tryna’ figure me out or somethin’?”

“You bothered?” You cracked a grin widely, and then perched yourself up on his desk, sitting at the edge. You crossed your arms, the light angling at shining over your form.

Simon oddly found himself itching. The more he stared at you the more it became pronounced. His fingers more-so. Itching to draw the way you sat—hair illuminated by the sun, and face partly shadowed. The curve of your lips highlighted.

He shook the feeling off and swallowed, adams apple bobbing.

“Listen, Johnny—my man owns this bar we work at. Mollys. I can talk to him and get ya assigned.”

You perked up, head downed previously to look at your lap in thought—now at him. “Do tell. I need the hours.”

“Campus jobs aren’t much, so. You’re better off here.” Simon shook his head and rubbed calloused fingers over his lids.

“Didn’t know you were a Lieutenant.” You spoke, voice calmer and hushed now. Simon raised his head up to glance at the jacket, then you. He shifted in his spot, then stood up. The bed bounced.

You watched as he approached his jacket and then grabbed at the thick material, hanging it up in the closet.

For a second your heart pounded—had you said something wrong? Your gaze faltered.

“I was. Till’ I joined ere’.” He then said, to which your nerves eased slightly.

You watched, lip catching between your teeth.

“Why the sudden change?”

“You’re askin’ a lotta questions, bonnie.” Simon said, unable to help the nickname now. You sat straighter and sensed his defensiveness, although it was not as sharp as it used to be.

Even the nickname had you gripped—surely something was changing.

“You don’t have to answer. But that would make you a stranger to me, still.” You said, slowly.

He shut his closet door and faced you, arms crossing. He tilted his head and glanced away in thought for a moment—then eyed you.

“Did you not want us to be strangers anymore?”

And all of a sudden the room felt hot. Intense. Your breath caught, throat squeezing slightly. His piercing gaze did nothing to calm you. You shifted on his desk and your thumb sought to soothe you—rubbing the inside of your pocket. You eyes found his—lips parting to speak.

“Just—friends…?” You awkwardly say. You glance at him and then around the room, needing anything to take the edge off.

“Just friends.” He repeated, as if testing the weight of the word on his tongue. He flexed his neck, before moving closer to you.

Your breath caught—and you froze. He sensed it, but didn’t say anything as both arms pinned you temporarily. Long fingers grabbed at a pen from behind you, and a notepad.

No way. He had to be doing this on purpose, you thought. Your eyes stared deeply into his, knees brushing his waist. Your heart was pounding.

“I need y’er number.” His voice was hushed, like a murmur.

“What for?”

“For Johnny. Don’t ya want the job?” He said it so casually.

You nearly facepalmed and Simon leaned away, waist at the desk, no longer caging you. You still shuddered from his proximity, and bit your lip. His body warmth originally extended to you—but with him gone, it was cold.

Like November.

As you told him your number, you slipped up halfway.

“Not 5–I mean 9.” Probably due to your nerves.

“Slippin’ up, aye?” He couldn’t help the small grin that pulled at his lips.

“Get on with it, otherwise I’ll find another job.” You half joked, half threatened. It was empty.

Simon lips curled up even more, revealing teeth. Wolfish. His eyes crinkled under as he gazed at you.

“Nah, you’ll be a’right at this one.”

He then took your number.

——

That night as Simon went to sleep, he couldn’t stop replaying your figure perched up on the desk, hair illuminated softly by oranges and yellows of the sun, the way your lipstick hugged your lips. The way your sweater fell—

Enough. Damn it, Lieutenant. He thought to himself. He needed to do something. Anything.

Once again, 3am. He got up, stiff muscles straining and he grunted. He padded to his desk, pulled out his sketchbook with a sigh and slapped it down. He turned on his lamp, sat down, and began sketching.

By the time he was done, his charcoal rendered a soft, messy elegant figure of yours. Despite that lip you gave sometimes. The most pronounced feature being your eyes: the one thing he found striking.

“Fuckin’ hell…now she’s hauntin’ my mind.” Simons gravelly voice said, as fingers pressed and dragged down his face wearily. He slumped back in his chair, long legs protruding.

And now, she’d be at his job too. He grunted softly, arm moving down to the armrest. Fingers tapped the side in thought, pensive.

“Campus jobs aren’t much, so. You’re better off here.” He remembered his own words.

“Didn’t want her workin’ a damn illegal side hustle…” Simon muttered to himself, getting up. He switched his lamp off, and found himself getting comfortable in bed.

At least, he tried to.

[zomtart]

Chapter 1: Morphine and Lavender (Frank Castle x Fem Reader/OC)

okay this is terrifying but hi I am going to share some of my writing! this is just a snippet I wrote cause Frank is always on the brain. thank you tuna team for the encouragement <3

content warnings: hospital, canon-typical violence/gore, mentions of needles, language

word count: 1.1k

Frank was beginning to think they had left him in there to die when he heard a knock. A young woman opened the door with a huff, brushing her hair out of her face before giving Frank a curt nod.

“Alright, hi, sorry, I know I’m not your assigned nurse but everyone in my unit decided to take lunch at the same time, so you are stuck with me at the moment.” she mumbled, barely looking up at Frank as she wheeled her computer stand to his side. She stayed outside of the duct-taped line, but it didn’t seem to bother her much. In fact, she didn’t seem bothered at all. Frank’s eyebrows furrowed together as she pulled up his medical sheet, searching for his name.

“Okay, you are Mr…Castle?” she asked, the sound of her mouse clicking echoing in the small hospital room.

He blinked, dumbfounded. “...yes ma’am.”

She nodded, her relaxed (but rather exhausted) expression staying constant even as she said the name that was headlining every newspaper in New York. 

“Mr. Castle, could you give me a pain rating on a scale of 1-10?”

He blinked again. He felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe. His assigned nurse hadn’t talked to him in the few days he’d been here, much less give him treatment he’d give another patient. An innocent patient. 

“Mr. Castle?” she repeated. 

“Right--uh…five.” he said quietly.

At that, she raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down slowly. She eyed the numerous bruises, cuts, and scars he was no doubt covered in, and asked, “That your final answer?” 

Something like a smile itched at his lips, but he forced it down. “...yes.” 

She shrugged, typing something into her computer. “Alright, well at least the painkillers are doing something. I’ll make sure to get a refill for that--” she paused as she looked at the full IV bag of morphine, following the IV down to…the floor.

She grabbed at the IV, looking at the wire and then back to Frank. “Did you yank this out?”

“No, ma’am.”

“The fuck?” she murmured, before understanding seemed to dawn on her. The cuffs, the bright red line of tape, the bruises on his face. Frank waited for disgust, for her to become terrified, for her to spit in his face. Instead, she stubbornly set her jaw and walked back to her computer. 

“Who the hell is your nurse?” she sounded furious, but it didn’t seem aimed at him.

Frank, through his confusion, could only shrug.

She rapidly typed at the keyboard, eyes running up and down the screen. Then she stopped scrolling, eyes narrowing. “Did he have blonde hair? Eagle tattoo on his forearm?”

Frank vaguely remembered the eyes of an eagle staring back at him as he faded in and out consciousness from the pain, a man with blonde hair sneering down at him. He nodded. 

“...motherfucker.” she all but growled, and the sound turned into a jagged laugh. She threw her hands up. “Aaron. Of course it--god fucking…damnit--”

Frank felt he was obligated to ask, or maybe his curiosity got the best of him. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

She laughed humorlessly again, words tumbling out of her mouth. “Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. I haven’t slept in two days, haven’t been in my own bed in almost a week, and all because I need to take extra shifts. Why do I need to take extra shifts? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I decided to move to New York fucking City where an apartment room costs more than an arm and a leg! And just when I think--oh just when I think I’m gonna get that promotion? No. No, I lose it to Aaron, who won’t even do his goddamn job correctly!” she finished with a burst of gusto, before collapsing down into a chair.

She just sat there for a minute, face buried in her hands, and Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do besides give her the grace of silence. 

The absence of noise was quickly interrupted by her pager going off, and she reluctantly held it up to her vision before sighing and putting it back at her hip. It seemed to snap her back into reality, and she stood up and smoothed down her hair.

“I’m…very sorry about that Mr…” she glanced up at the computer again. “...Castle. I’m--that was unprofessional, it has just been a…very long week.”

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “...you really don’t know who I am?” 

She grabbed some gloves from the table and snapped them on. “Someone very humble, I see.”

That got him to laugh, a low rumble that made its way out of his throat. He…couldn’t remember the last time had laughed. It felt nice. Familiar, even after all this time. 

She shook her head with a small smile, grabbing the IV and sterilizing it. “No, I do not. I’m not even sure what day it is, to be honest.”

He nodded, stretching out his arm for her and making a fist. “But you…I mean they told you…somethin’, right? A warning?”

“I vaguely recall being told to stay behind the red line besides when absolutely necessary, yes.” she said, readying the needle. “Small pinch.” 

He stared, barely registering the sensation of the IV. “...so you…then why would you…?” he tried to find the answer in her face, but all he could see was concentration on her task. 

“Why would I…?” she repeated, waiting for him to continue. With the IV in his arm she took her gloves off, typing something on her computer.

“...I don’t know, you’re just being awfully kind.”

She pursed her lips, a hand going to her hip. “I’m not being kind, I’m doing my job. I took an oath to help people, no matter who they were, and that’s what I’m doing. Simple as that.” 

He grunted absentmindedly, his eyes flitting to the window. Ten stories down, New York raged on, lights flashing like fireworks. “Doesn’t seem simple.”

She shrugged. “It is to me.” she started wheeling out her computer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Hopefully that IV will help. If that dipshit comes in here again, you tell him about nurse malpractice. You have constitutional rights, even if you are off robbing banks or whatnot.”

With that, she was gone, the faint scent of lavender left in her wake.

Frank blinked. “...robbing banks,” he mumbled before closing his eyes, letting the numb embrace of morphine lull him to sleep.

[cherryblossombankai]

Summary: Hawks feels lonely and decides to go to a bar to look for some company. 

Word Count: 560

Warnings: drinking, flying, pretty tame overall tbh, language

Author’s Note: This was written for a little writing challenge! It was fun stretching my brain muscles and it’s been a while since I wrote something based on a song. 

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer

The bar is dark and quiet, but still, Keigo can’t hide anywhere. His strong wings draw attention wherever he goes. Usually, he plays it up, flashing a bright smile and telling jokes like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He wishes he really felt that way. Sometimes it would sneak over him. When he’d be soaring through the sky, high above the city, sometimes he’d feel free. Then, the feelings would quickly fade. He’d be reminded once more how he’s just a cog in the machine. At least nobody in this place approached him. They watched, of course, with flickers of recognition in their eyes. 

“Look it’s chicken wing!” one particularly drunk man yelled across the bar room. Keigo frowns, but when he turns to retort the man’s friend is holding him up and offering Keigo apologies. 

“It’s fine. Just take care of him,” he sighs before turning away. He finds a lone seat at the end of the bar. He did want company, but he wanted to stretch his wings out even more. 

You didn’t light up the bar when you walked in. There was no dazzling smile that drew his attention. You were lost in thought, maybe even a little sad. That’s what drew his attention to you, trying to decide whether you would cry. He fancied himself a bit of charmer and thought if he saw you crying, he could slide in there to make you smile. 

“Are you watching me, hero boy?” you ask from across the bar, speaking over the glass that you’re raising to your lips. 

“Maybe. Is that okay?” he smirks. 

You shrug in response, “You can watch whatever you want.” 

He could sense the sardonic resignation in your voice. The acceptance of your situation. He realizes maybe you were never sad at all, but instead frustrated. Maybe you feel like him. 

“Hey, you wanna do something cool?” he asks as he gets up from his seat and walks over to you. 

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Define cool?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he assures you. “Just come with me. I’m a hero, right? You can trust me.” 

You roll your eyes playfully and stand up. “Fine, but if you try to like pull out your dick or something once we’re outside I’m gonna kick you.” 

“No promises,” he winks. There was something about him that you trusted. Then again, you figured maybe he was right. You’d always been told to trust the heroes, and even if his attitude was not typical at times, he’s the number 2 hero now. 

That’s how you ended up flying above the city in his arms. Your screams of delight fill the air around you when he swoops and spins to show off. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. It had taken him a bit to talk you into it, but now that you’re in the sky you never want to come down. 

Keigo didn’t know how different it would feel not to fly alone. He tightens his arms around your waist and enjoys how it feels when you nuzzle into his neck. 

You’re still holding on tight when he finally lands in front of the bar again. You take a moment to regain your footing. 

Your smile is bright as you look up at him, “When can we go again?” 

[velvvetcat09]

a little something

“Mumbo, come on, man…”

“No—Just, —a moment, this time, this time it’s going to work, I promise—“

“Look, Mumbo, it’s not going to work. There is no such universe, timeline, or whatever, where Grian doesn’t forsake his past to become mortal. Give it up, man. You’re destroying yourself.”

“No, no, no—No, you don’t understand—There must be somewhere, one universe, where he didn’t—“

“Admit it, Mumbo, you knew. There is no such thing. Grian will always choose you. That is a constant in the infinite possibilities—“

“Ha! But you said it, Iskall—infinite! So there must be somewhere! A possibility, of a universe where he didn’t choose me…”

“And what if there is? Then what are you gonna do about it?”

“I…”

“Figure out how it happened there and inject that factor into the rest of the universes?”

“…”

“Mumbo, it won’t work. You know how the universe will repair itself. It’s infinite possibilities. What makes you think the other version of you haven’t tried it yet? What makes you think it hadn’t happened already?”

“I—“

“It will always end up this way, Mumbo”

“… But what’s even the point. He became mortal and I— …”

“Constants, Mumbo.”

“—‘m trapped outside of space-time continuum because I’m stupid enough to mess with my own existence.”

“Think of it this way, there’s infinite possibilities, somewhere, there is a version of you two staying together, right?”

“No, no—constants. There’s always a divergence. I will always end up like this.”

[melanated-writersblock]

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ The College Basketball Star!Chenle x Black!Cheerleader!Reader Chronicles ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

A/N: CHENLE STANS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE! Me and my besties are seeing the Dreamies tomorrow so I figured I’d hammer this one out real quick (I finished this @ like 4 am on Tuesday so this was queued to post on Dream()Scape Eve🤣) It’s not much but it’s honest work. I’ve been wanting a tutor trope fic for a while so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and just have the reader as Chenle’s tutor on some scholar type shit. And I’ve never written smut where the reader is more dominant SO BE NICE TO ME!!! Per usual, WwaBRiM but everybody [18+ AND UP *MDNI*] can read!

Content: Semi-public sex, sub!Chenle, dom!reader, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, reader is a grinderrr (o-o-o-o-o-ohhh), creampie, idk just filth?

The greatest thing to happen to you at university outside of joining cheer team, was getting that little corner office spot for tutors to use that just so happened to be in the back of your campus’ big ass library. Sure there were other tutors on campus, but they always met at coffee shops on or off site and in their dorm rooms. So the corner office became your domain with a key and everything for you to come and go as you please, no matter the hours.

And once Chenle found out, that became a problem.

10:45 PM on a Thursday night and you’re trying your hardest to be discreet about the actions taking place and the man writhing beneath you. “Ughh Fuck, if you keep bouncing on my dick like that I’m gonna cum”. Taking Chenle’s warning, you brace your hands on his shoulders, slowing your pace as you straddle the struggling athlete sitting with his back against the cold wall. “Oh my god yes, yes, that’s so good keep doi- Ahhh!” You can’t help but giggle at the needy state of your boyfriend and his shameless moans as you clench around him with each raise of your hips. “Wow my pussy’s just taking all of you today, huh?” You figured you’d never get him in another comatose submissive state like this again so you have to take advantage of your power trip. “Yes, baby yes you take me so fucking well oh my gooodddd~” he admits between gritted teeth, his head lolling to the side, “Aww, what’s wrong baby?” you lean into the man, your mouth right next to his ear.

Letting his actions speak for him, Chenle grabs your ass as if to forcibly fuck you onto him. You tsk at him, stalling your movements completely and staring him down in a playfully reprimanding manner. “Nooo? Come on love, you do this to me all the time remember?” Chenle drops his hands from your ass in defeat, looking almost like he wanted to cry. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking needy?” “Mnnn~” You start to grind, paaaainfully slow, hiking your already wrinkled skirt impossibly higher up your waist. “Come on baby, just tell me what you want me to do.” His eyes glaze over as he meets your gaze, longingly and full of yearning. Almost as if praying that being on the verge of tears was enough for you. As much as you liked when Chenle surrendered himself to your mercy, you knew that he was still hard to break and those glassy eyes were the most you’d possibly ever get. And honestly? You’ll take it.

Still in a kneeled straddling position, you plant one of your feet on the ground to have some leverage, the other leg remaining kneeled. Chenle’s breath becomes shaky with anticipation, and you smile at him sinisterly. “What do you want me to do, Chenle. Hm?” You finally sink back down onto his length, swiveling around until he bottomed out beneath you. He couldn’t help but moan at the sensation as you begin to pick up the pace. “Is this what you wanted?” “Ohhhh~” “Ohhh does my pussy feel that good to you?” You couldn’t help but mock him a little, “Yes it feels soo good~ughhh~” You begin to bounce on him full force, the lewd sounds of your skin colliding filling your office “Oh fuckkk yeah you like when I ride you like this?” “Uh huh!” “You like when I fuck you on the floor in my office? Huh?” “Yessss Yes I do! Fuck! I can’t-” You don’t let up, snaking a hand into his hair to tug at it, making him look you in the eyes right before putting him out of his misery. “I can’t I’m gonna c-” “Aww you’re gonna cum for me?” “Yesss oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum~” You lean into his ear again, “Then do it. Cum. Cum for me right fucking now. Cum inside of me right now. Cum for me, come for me, c-” Chenle begins to cry out and you moan as you feel him release in you, covering his mouth as you continue to ride him, tears streaming down his face. Muffled curses escape his mouth as you bounce on him, pushing him to a point of sensitivity, your juices mixed with his cum trickling down the length of his cock and pooling at the base, messing up both of your inner thighs. You finally slow to a stop, removing your hand from his mouth. Chenle lets out a labored sigh of relief and you can’t help but giggle at him. “Thank you, I really needed that,” “I know, that’s why I did it….you’re welcome”. You fix yourself to start getting up, but Chenle grabs your hips holding you in place on him. “Just stay like this for a sec.” “Why do you always have to-” “Shhhh” moments later, he pulls out of you as cum slowly leaks out of your cunt. You smile, shaking your head at him as you both clean each other and help the other get redressed. “Okay so be honest with me,” “Alright?” “Why exactly did you start coming to the tutoring office all of a sudden?” you wait for a valid response as Chenle starts fidgeting with things on your desk, “The coach said I need to bring up my grade in my Statistics course.” He doesn’t. He got a 96% and 100% on his most recent statistics quiz and exam respectively. “Oh you fucking liar!”

[sil3ntfr34k]

i’m begging you..please can we have yandere p1 hcs? <33

(mmmmm P1.... Guuhhhh,,, Anyway I dont think he'd be a full yandere so im gonna try my best)

Postal 1 Yandere Headcanons

Honestly if you got this guy top even care about you, that's already a miracle. He's almost never outside in the pubic eye so he probably thought you were stalking him at first, which is now switched bc be stalks you now!!

At first he thought you were some kind of humanoid parasite since he couldn't stop thinking of you. Of course you're not in there all the time, but you started to stay longer than anyone else has. His mind is always so jumbled with thoughts of self harm and others harm that just the thought of you was sort of like a beacon

It started out with him asking you to come to his house more often since it was 'safer' as he says. Champ was there to guard the perimeter and he had all kinds of weapons. If anyone even tries breaking in, it would either be Champ or Dude's fault, but they wouldn't walk out alive. Just the thought of you being harmed or even killed was enough to send Dude into a short episode.

At some point he started to think of you as some sort of demigod. Not entirely angelic, but you weren't as evil as everyone else. You brought out his kindness again, and he wanted to keep you around for that. He knows he can't keep you trapped with him (even though he tries sometimes,,,), but he starts to break down slowly once you leave him alone again.

Desperately tries to not seem annoying or clingy, but he just can't help it. It's been so long since someone has made him feel anything other than scared or nervous. Around you Dude feels normal, even sharing some of his morbid facts with you about the human body and mind. You're probably a little fucked in the head too so you guys match each others freak almost perfectly.

More on the stalking, Dude hates not knowing where you are or what you're doing. He worries so much, as soon as a small bad thought enters his head, it immediately turns to you somehow and now he's hyperventilating and spam calling you. If you can, he lets you take Champ with you sometimes, just so he knows you're safe.

Takes candid pictures of you without your permission and knowledge. He doesn't do anything weird with it, it's just so he can look at you whenever he wants. Follows you around from a far distance so he can catch you in your truest casual form.

During particular bad episodes, Dude spam calls you so he can hear your voice. You've become such a bright, warm, comforting light in his life, he thinks he needs you to be happy. As long as you're around him, Dude fully believes you can cure him. You can imagine his frustration when it doesn't work and he's not immediately okay again.

[afrowrites]

The Princess and the Farmboy Part One

(Sorry I keep using the same gif lol)

Ok so this one is a little bit of a short one, only because I felt really bad that I didn't post this and I had huge writers block. I will post the full fic by the end of the month (hopefully)

Clark Kent x Black Reader.

Rated: Teen and up

Descrip: Your brother Lex decides that you need a break from the city and takes you to smallville, You think your gonna go insane from ennui. Then you (Un)fourtunately fall into the arms of one titular Farmboy.

“Mercy, tell me why I have to leave the comfort of Metropolis to go to Swampville.” you whine

“Smallville,” Mercy corrects you. “Master Luthor enjoys the small town vibe and he has friends here he wants you to meet.” You scoff and roll your eyes. 

You hail from the richest of the richest, after your parents were robbed and murdered Lionel (out of the blue I add) decided that Lex could use a playmate so he adopted you. You and Lex became attached at the hip. You needed him when the memories of your parents haunting faces marred your mind, and he needed you when Lionel was too much. 

Your car stops, you hear a knock on your side of the car. “(Y/n) you wanna come outside.” You hear your adoptive brother’s voice. The door opens as you take his hand. The surrounding area looks so boring to you it almost makes you barf.

 “Mmm, gotta love that clean air.” Lex sighs. “I don’t know how you could like this place it’s so… boring.” you groan. You and him take a stroll on the bridge not knowing that just across the way a strong tall annoying boy is within earshot.

“I think you’ll start to like it here, It’s great when I need a break and trust me you need one.” Lex meant well when he brought you here. He’s noticed that you’ve thrown yourself into school and work more often, rarely having time for friends or fun.

The bridge starts to crack ever so slightly and Clark taking a walk hears this, he’s cautious but near.

“Fine I’ll try to stay here but the minute something goes wro-” You sooner eat your words as you suddenly fall into the water below Lex with you in tow. Something wizzes past you both, you see Lex get pulled out of the water, He’s sopping wet as Mercy goes to check on him suddenly your pulled out of the water. You cough for a bit letting your eyes adjust when you see the cutest guy you have ever seen in your life. He’s tall, has pretty green/blue eyes and his hand is on your boob right now.

 “Um… your hand.” You nod to his hand. “Oh my god I am so sorry!” he screeches in your ear. He stands you up, Lex starts “You know you always seem to be there whenever I need saving.” Lex joked. 

You just stood there stewing in anger, your wet clothes sticking to you, your sew-in starting to puff up. Yeah you're done with this, “Lex can we go, my hair is soaking wet, I’m cold as hell. We need to go now!” You screech that last line out spooking the annoyingly tall good looking boy standing next to him. 

“She’s a bit annoying, isn’t she.”, “Dude watch it, she’s my sister.” Lex rebuttals.

“I’m annoying, no, what's annoying is that I got dropped in six feet of cold water, My hair is messed up, and now I am stuck in this hick town for god knows how long, And you TOUCHED MY BOOB!” 

Lex and Clark go wide eyed as you hobble to the car with Mercy in tow, “OH AND YOU OWE ME A NEW PAIR OF THAT’S SO KATES!” you yell down to them.

[crybaby-bkg]

just got my lashes done for the first time in five years today and they’re so pretty I can’t stop staring at them 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I was so nervous at first bc my sensory issues have gotten worse and I was soooo scared that I’d feel a bunch of poking and that the glue would burn my eyes too much, but she was so gentle that I don’t even feel them 😭😭