#but this did help get my writing engines going for a paper

[sindumpster]

Any unbirth thoughts or ideas that appeal to you? Just in general. I currently have an ub-session and love your ub stuff. 💗

"ub-session" made me snort. I love it.

But hokey I'm gonna jot some things down so sorry if this ends up more of a jumble of words than anything. Also obviously this one is gonna be hella nsfw

-Ngl a lot of my go-tos with it involve the UB being orgasm-triggered. Because something something vaginal contractions which idk if I likened that to peristalsis or if someone else inserted that into my brain. It been...a while since I refreshed my sex bio. But if cocks can eat people then I can grasp at my straws and pretend it triggers the vaginal succ-tion.

-...which would also make sense if the pred(?) is a biiiit of a size queen. A dicking devolves to fisting. Could just be the fisting that triggers the succ. Also my humor is dumb so I like it when the other char is marveling over how far their arm can sink in. Mentioning its getting harder to pull back. Oblivious to all the warning signs before its too late.

-tho I will also die on my hill of pushy prey so someone actively being like my arm has gone past the elbow and this *still* isn't working. I guess I will just push myself in there. Because also, my humor is broken so this being the first most obvious solution the prey thinks of is hilarious to me. Post nut clarity is gonna hit hard (or they like it. Or it was the plan all along because they're a kinky fuck)

-forreal tho prey that's a kinky fuck. Realizing how stretchy the pred is and want to try it. Or has done it before. Just taking the initiative.

-I'm realizing a lot of these are about my broken humor so I will also raise you--pregnancy jokes. Because I like them with vore and other situations where the char isn't pregnant but will just go along with it because it is the easier explanation (and like, I say this as someone with a preg kink. The joke just doesn't hit the same when its actual preg tho lmao). Also UB being extra prone to this because the prey is sitting in the right place (as opposed to oral vore where stomach sits higher up. As if people would notice this and care but I will also die on my stupid detail hill)

-but also I'm a sucker for combo kinks and also I like my separation of different stuffed...organs? Compartmentalization kink? as in life so in kink IDK point is UB pred following it up with a stuffing session. Or oral vores someone (esp if they are not a fan of preg jokes). There's a bit of a power play there if the pred's like "well what are you gonna do about it~". Prey getting increasingly cramped or complaining about the growing weight above them. Or feeling each other's struggles. Two different prey poking at each other through the fleshy walls. I just think it's neat.

-also orgasm being a release valve as well. Because you can fuck (or fist) someone from the inside (There's a "cum out" joke here somewhere).

-Which could also be a power play on the prey's part. Or throw in some public humiliation where prey tries to pleasure the pred in public, and the pred must hide how flustered it is making them. They don't need to come out from it, they can just fuck with (literally) the pred.

-I like competitions of any sort but I do not care who wins. Even my bois I equally enjoy them losing to clever prey (or a pyrrhic victory). Or just kinky fuck prey. This isn't specifically a UB thing but for me it applies just as well. Could also be funny if this devolved from some kind of stupid sex contest. The "whoever cums first loses" where prey gets increasingly desperate to win and this results in them shoving themselves up there.

-also I like the "getting your hand stuck in the cookie jar" joke.

-MULTIPLE PREY. Because why the fuck not. Uterus party guys everyone is invited. Or smol prey if a large tum isn't your jam (but I am biased. Sorry. Not sorry.)

-MASC PREDS. MASC UB. NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE REALIZE THIS POTENTIAL JOIN ME OR POINT ME TO THE ART.

-which I like it doesn't have to be a sex thing but the "motherhood" or "age regression" sides of the kink aren't my niche so sex is usually how I go. It can be peril or even fatal, or warm wholesome safe vibes. I like both. And should go without saying but even the kinkiest sex can be wholesome.

-tho also the impressive side-eye in the afterlife when you admit you got digested by a snatch. Went out with a bang. Got your dick stuck in a living vacuum cleaner. This isn't really an idea.

-ALSO REFORMING PREY. If fatal is your jam. Idk man I'm still working out the kinks(lol) of how the fatal pussy would work without getting into the dark details of any internal pred/prey kinks where digestion is actually the least of your problems. Except my Space!AU where everything can be a stomach if you're brave enough. Alien anatomy you can do whatever the fuck you want so that's where my wackiest kink mechanics go. (Because I'm still working on this notion that I am "realistic" and will not break these stupid rules I made up in normal canon for some reason??).

-Tho I guess with reform you can have your "rebirthing" stuff. (Personally with the caveat they reform as an adult. I don't mind preg or even warm cozy vibes but again...parenthood loses me sorry. But feel free to use it lol)

-Oh and also face-sitting [GONE WRONG][GONE SEXUAL]

-Or I guess if you're really into dicks eating people can have a CV pred fuck a UB pred and the prey just gets kinda shot up there.

///and I'm sure there's a fuckton of things I'm forgetting. But this is already way longer than I intended lmao

[vivwritesfics]

Marry Me?

She needs a wedding date, someone to fake being her boyfriend, and he's happy to help.

"I need your help."

Daniel Ricciardo loved his best friend. He would have done anything for her. So when she came to him, asking him to pretend to be her date for her sisters wedding, he said yes.

Drinking and dancing with his best friend, he couldn't imagine anything better.

He nodded his head in agreement and opened his arms for her and she fell into them, sigh content. "You're the best, Honey badger," she mumbled as she laid her head against his chest.

"Have you gotten a dress yet?"

Daniel knew before he'd even agreed to go with her that their outfits were going to be matching. His tie, bow tie, whatever he ended up wearing, was gonna match her dress, he knew. His little surprise for the wedding.

Daniel was there a few days later, when her mother called. He turned down the radio in her car and kept quiet as she spike to her mother.

"Hi mum," he heard as he continued to drive. In any other setting, Daniel would have been able to hear her mother's responses. But the low hum of the engine and the sound of the air conditioning kept him from that. Not that he would have been trying to listen in, of course.

"Yeah I got my date sorted," he heard her say, rather exasperated. "Yes, he's really nice. Trust me, you're all going to love him."

There was a pause, her mother speaking as her eyes went wide. "Boyfriend?!" She cried, and her mother continued. "But-" Her mother kept speaking, stopping her from cutting in. "Wait-" And then the line went dead.

Dropping her phone into her lap, she turned her attention back to Daniel. "I might need a bigger favour than you just being my plus one."

***

No matter how many times Daniel told her, she wasn't going to get it through her head that he would do anything for her. He was standing in a Chapel, tie the same shade of green as her dress, for crying out loud! Pretending to be her boyfriend was no big deal.

He'd made a big show of it in the morning, driving her to where her sister was staying. He held her hand, pulled her back into him when she tried to walk through the door. All of her sisters friends cooed when he kissed the top of her head before letting go.

He held her hand through the ceremony. It really was a lovely ceremony, a little cheesy, filled the clichés, but still beautiful. Admittedly, it got a little boring, but that was where Daniel came in.

They thumb wrestled, played rock paper scissors, and other things you'd expect bored kids to do. It didn't matter that they were grown adults, they were having fun.

Daniel held her hand as they headed to the reception. His hand was warm in hers and she thought she could feel a different between his tattooed skin and the skin that didn't have any ink (in reality, she just knew his body that well that she knew exactly where to find his tattoos).

They sat through the speeches. Did it hurt that her sister hadn't asked her to write one? Yeah, it did. But she sat there, Daniel's hand so distracting on her knee.

And then the dancing started. Her sister and her new husband took to the dance floor. It was slow, their entire families watching them. But then more people joined in.

Standing up, Daniel held out his hand.

"We don't have to dance," she said as she sipped her drink.

Daniel took her drink from her hands and put it down. "It'll be fun," he said with his usual charming grin and pulled her to her feet.

One hand holding hers, the other on her waist, Daniel began moving her across the dance floor. "I think your parents were about to ask me my intentions," he said, holding her body against his.

"Your intentions, huh?" He grinned, and looked at her parents over his shoulder. "And what are your intentions, Mr Ricciardo?"

He couldn't hide his grin as he looked at her. "Marriage, kids, side by side coffins, baby!"

Her laugh echoed around the hall. Several family members were looking at the both of them, probably whispering to each other about how cute they were. And they were, his suit matching her tie, the two of them standing too close to be friends.

They just needed to realise it themselves.

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (epilogue)

In which Harry's still grumpy, except for when he's with his sunshine girl.

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“How was it?” Maddie asks y/n, sitting in the driver’s seat of her beat up red Toyota Corolla. The engine is running as y/n climbs into the passengers side, carelessly throwing her backpack in the backseat and buckling herself up. 

“I don’t want to think about integrals ever again,” y/n responds. She’s just gotten out of her calc midterm, and she feels horrible and miserable and exhausted. Although she’d promised herself to go to sleep early last night so that she’d be alert and prepared for her exam… she actually hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 AM. She’d been twisting and turning in her bed, flipping her pillows and trying to lull herself to sleep all night, unsuccessfully. 

Thankfully the class wasn’t until noon, so she was still able to get at least five-ish hours of sleep. But she still woke up feeling like shit. Her heart had been pounding nervously all morning, and she hadn’t been able to get any food down except for three sips of some coffee she made for herself in the morning. She didn’t put any makeup on as she left for campus, only a pair of sweats and a burgundy sweatshirt… Harry’s burgundy sweatshirt. The one he’d given to her in the car when he’d driven her home. 

Now, she has a reason for wearing it! You see… it still smelled like him. And y/n somehow convinced herself that by wearing Harry’s sweatshirt (the sweatshirt that smelled like him!) she might be able to…  absorb some of his math skills? And do better on her midterm? 

She’s pulling at straws here. She still feels like she failed it. 

“Listen…” Maddie says, pulling out of the parking lot. “I need to go over to Blake’s, I left my makeup bag in his bathroom and then we’re gonna go out for lunch.”

“Okay,” y/n mumbles, not caring. She closes her eyes to try and soothe the pounding in her head. She’s gonna nap as soon as she gets into her bed. 

“Do you want me to drop you off at home first? Or… did you want to come and see Harry?” 

Y/n’s eyes flutter open. Harry. 

Maddie looks over at y/n knowingly. Y/n turns bashful. “Yeah, I’ll come and see Harry.”

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Harry looks like he’s just woken up when he opens his bedroom door for y/n.

His eyes are puffy and his curls are flat and messy. A smile immediately spreads on his face when he sees it’s y/n.

“Hey.” His voice is deep and raspy, and it’s probably the first word he’s said all day. 

“Hi,” she says, twisting her hands in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. No– his sweatshirt. 

Oh. Oops.

Harry smiles down at the burgundy sweatshirt that’s swallowed y/n’s body. 

“I– I wore it so that I could return it,” she stammers. A lie! Harry sees right through it, and finds his smirk growing even wider. 

“I like it on you,” he grins. She grows shy under his gaze, heart bubbling with that familiar feeling. The feeling of a crush. “How was the midterm?” he asks, closing the door behind himself and y/n.

He lays back down in his bed, the way he’d previously been before y/n came knocking on his door, and y/n sits down next to him. “I dunno,” she shrugs. Her eyes are downcast and dull, lacking the happy sparkle he usually searches for whenever he’s in her presence.

“I’m sure you did okay,” he says, resting a reassuring hand on her knee. “At least it’s over now!”

She nods. A certain weight had been lifted from her chest as she walked out of that lecture hall. No more studying integrals and derivatives for hours straight…

“There was this one problem,” y/n can’t help but say. “It was like… ln(x) to the power of two…”

“Do you want to write it out?” Harry asks. He knows that y/n probably won’t be able to let this midterm go until she gets all of her questions out of the way. 

With a pen and paper in hand, she messily writes the problem out, the paper tearing a little bit when she presses down too hard. “It was ln(x)^2… and i split it into ln(x)*ln(x). That’s allowed right?”

Harry nods, “Mhm. That’s what I would’ve done too. What next?”

“Um… I did a U-sub. I don’t know if that’s right though… I was running out of time and just did something so that I could get at least partial credit.” 

“A u-sub is right,” he grins.

“Really?” She blinks with wide eyes as he nods. “So… wait– tell me if I did the rest of it right.” She messily writes down what she remembers putting down on the test, then gives the paper to Harry. 

“S’good,” his dimple pops out as he smiles up at her, “It’s all right. And you didn’t forget the +C, good job!” 

“No way!” she exclaims, disbelievingly. Her hands land on Harry’s chest as she giggles triumphantly, “No freaking way I did it right! I thought I was just making math up! Oh my gosh!”

“Told you,” he laughs along with her, holding the hand that she rested on his chest. “Stop stressing out, sunshine. You studied, and now you’re done!”

There’s that name again, the one that makes her entire body tingle with happy chills. >sunshine. The sparkle in her eye is back, and Harry feels pride for being the reason she laughed. The entire world feels brighter now that she’s happy again. 

Y/n’s giggles die down slowly, and she looks down at Harry, eyes flickering between his. Her stare is intent as she chews on her lip, the remnants of her cheery smile still present in the apples of her cheeks.

Something thuds on the floor behind Harry. They both peer over the side of the bed to see what fell from his bedside table. It’s just a book… but when y/n looks closer…

“Wuthering Heights?” 

His cheeks turn pink. “Yeah…” he coughs dryly. “I um… I remember you reading it. Thought it might be nice if I picked it up, and that… we might be able to talk about it or something.” 

Her heart swells in her chest. “You’re reading Wuthering Heights?” 

“Well– trying to,” he chuckles at himself lamely. “I’m like 10 pages in.”

She wants to kiss him. She really really does. Like… he’s perfect and beautiful and kind and sweet and amazing. But… god would it be weird? After last time?

Harry pushes himself up on his elbows. He can feel the tension too. But when he inches closer to her, her eyes flicker with doubt and she looks away. 

“No,” he pleads, cupping her jaw. “Please… please don’t let it be different.” She meets his gaze again. 

“I like you,” he swallows thickly, “and I want… something with you. Whatever you want.” 

He inches upward, and this time she doesn’t pull away. Her heart races in her chest and she lets the magnetic force between them take over. 

“We’ll take it slow, at your pace…” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut. “No rush. Just trust me, please.”

She nods. She trusts him.

Their lips connect, a spark flying through y/n’s body the second she makes contact with him. It’s wonderful, better than last time, even, and she realizes the reason kissing Harry is so great is because it’s >Harry. Because she can feel how much he cares for her when he kisses her. He speaks poems with his lips when he kisses her and writes sonnets on her skin every time he touches her. He tastes like minty toothpaste, freshly washed, and his lips are so soft and sweet and gentle. 

He pulls away from her lips with a soft click, then stares up at her with hearts floating in his eyes. 

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Y/n is out of breath, huffing and puffing in front of Harry’s door and knocking like a madwoman. She ran here from her own apartment, too excited to wait and ask Maddie for a ride. She needed to see him >immediately. 

Harry opens the door with concerned eyes and furrowed eyebrows, a little bit scared. He still has his headphones on with his controller in his hands, staring down at y/n as though he just had a heart attack, “What? What is it?” 

A huge grin is plastered on her face. “Harry!” she beams. “I passed!”

“What?” he’s still confused. What did she pass? Why is she at his door?

“I got a 77% on the midterm!” she squeals, jumping up and down in her place. 

His eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. “Yes!” he cheers. He pulls the headphones off of his ears and hangs them around his neck, just in time for when y/n wraps her arms around him. He’s taken aback, stumbling a few steps backwards from how hard she pummeled into him, but easily steadies himself and wraps his arms around her back. He hugs her so tight that her feet leave the ground, and she’s laughing in his ear sweetly.

“I can’t believe it!!!” she says, her hands on his shoulders as he puts her back down on the ground. Her eyes glimmer with the shine that he adores so much, and it makes him grin even harder. His dimple pops out, a rare sighting for anyone else except for y/n these days. 

He kisses her without a second thought.

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The scene is all too familiar. Harry, sitting at a party with his eyebrows furrowed grumpily. His friends are sitting around him, laughing and chattering, but Harry says nothing. He takes a bored sip from the jungle juice in his hand. Three girls have approached him tonight, batting their eyes up at him and biting their lips teasingly, but he’s brushed them off without so much of a glance. He’s not interested in the slightest.

He looks around himself, eyes searching for a certain someone, and he sighs to himself. She’s still not here. His pout grows more prominent, and he whips out his phone. He does not care for anyone at this party, and though his friends are fun and all… they’re having a weird conversation about Elon Musk that he doesn’t want to even listen to.

He huffs. He stares at the last text he received, 19 minutes ago.

sunshine: omw!! be there in 15 :)

She’s 4 minutes late, he pouts. It’s probably Maddie’s fault.

A firm poke is pressed to his forehead. “Hey grumpy.” His heart jumps as he recognizes the sweet sunshine angel voice speaking to him. 

“Sunshine,” he coos, the furrow his brow immediately melting into a soft smile. He holds a hand out for her, which she immediately takes. She has a soft smile on her face, her eyes kind and warm and gentle, the LED party lights haloing around her head and making her look like a fairy. “Missed you.”

He pulls her down into his lap, her butt comfortably sat on his thighs, and nuzzles his face into her neck, trying to get as close to her as possible. A content hum rumbles through his chest now that he’s surrounded by her scent, his pretty girlfriend in his lap, drowning out all the other people at the party. She giggles cutely when his curls tickle her chin, simultaneously trying to escape the kisses he’s pressing to her sensitive throat while also wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Watcha drinking?” she asks. 

He offers her his drink, “dunno.” She grimaces as she takes a sip, and he imitates her grossed out face. “Yucky, isn’t it?”

She gets the drink as far away as possible from herself. “Gross.” 

He chuckles. She’s so beyond cute, her cheeks so soft and biteable as she scrunches her nose. One of his hands is on her back, holding her upright, while the other one rests on her thigh comfortably. His fingers on her back find the ends of her hair and start twisting them, playing with the soft strands and curling them around his fingers, while his fingers on her thigh trace up and down and up and down. Goosebumps rise along the path of his fingers, and it makes him smile. She’s so reactive to every single one of his touches… he wants to have his hands on her 24/7.

If she wasn’t so shy and sweet and innocent, he’d start kissing her pretty, glossed up lips right here and now, even with all of their friends sitting around them. He’s obsessed with her! Obsessed with kissing her all the time and teaching her all the secrets of intimacy. But he knows she’d probably get bashful and embarrassed with that much PDA (even getting her to sit in his lap took a bit of coaxing at the beginning), so he settles for pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re so cute,” he murmurs to her, resting his head on her shoulder. Is it too early for them to leave this party and to his room? He’d love to be snuggled up in bed with her… have her read to him a little bit while he plays with her hair… yeah that sounds nice.

“M’gonna go get a juice box from the fridge,” she whispers (his fridge is stocked with juice just for her). He whine when she pulls away, looking up at her with big pleading puppy dog eyes, begging her not to leave him when he’s just gotten her, but she pecks his cheek with a dismissive kiss. “Do you want one too?”

“No,” he pouts. “I’ll just have some of yours, if that’s okay?”

She squints her eyes at him, “you get two sips, and that’s it.” 

He shrugs with a teasing smile. “M’kay.” He resists the urge to pat her ass as she walks away (that’s for when they’re alone in his room).

He’s stuck in a lovey dovey lavender haze as he watches her get swept away by a group of her girlfriends, smiling to himself fondly as they all giggle and look towards Harry mischievously. He knows she’s probably getting grilled about how little miss sunshine finally got a boyfriend! 

A shove from Blake jostles him out of his daydream. “Who are you?” Blake snickers. All of his friends are staring at him too. Nobody has ever, ever seen grumpy Harry be so soft with anyone. Kissing her cheek and cuddling into her neck and whining like a love-struck puppy… it’s funny. 

Harry rolls his eyes and tells his friends to fuck off, trying to furrow his brows and look all serious again. But his heart flutters happily in his chest, and those pretty dimples dent his cheek. 

He can’t be very grumpy when his sunshine girl is skipping back to him, juice box in hand as she settles back down on his lap. 

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perfect ending for my fav story:( TELL ME WHAT BLURBS U WANNA SEE!!!! MANY MANY BLURBS TO COME BC I LOVE THIS STORY:(

sunshine masterlist

[cilliansmesoftly]

sore

joe rantz x reader

summary: what’s a girl to do when her man comes in groaning in pain besides give him a much needed massage?

warnings: joe being a lil shit, reader providing everything he needs, implied smut, massage, whimpering

ੈ✩‧₊˚ y/n was completely zoned into her homework, she had a huge final coming up and she refused to give into any distractions.

until..

“damn it.” she heard joe groan out, trying to lower himself onto her bed.

“what is it?” she asked, not even turning around. she continued to furiously scribble onto her paper, mapping out equations for her engineering class.

“rowing.” he said through gritted teeth as he leaned down to untie his shoes. “shit’s gonna end up killing me.”

a beat of silence went through the room, only joe’s heavy breathing and the sound of pen writing on paper.

“baby, can you help me?” joe hated to bother her, but every time he tried to lean down to untie the other lace of his shoe, he felt a shooting pain go from the lower part of his back all the way up to his neck.

“yes, one second.” she answered absentmindedly, her tongue was slightly poked out of her lips in concentration and joe would’ve awed in adoration if every muscle in his body weren’t cramping.

“baby.”

“coming.” she said, but made no move to get up. so, joe, not without difficulty, stood to his feet and bent down to look over her shoulder. her paper was absolutely covered in writing. notes were in the margins, quotes and equations that she thought important were underlined or had a cute star next to it.

y/n could feel his breath on her neck and she subconsciously leaned into his presence.

“you need to take a break.” he said into the side of her neck, kissing the skin sweetly. she giggled at the feeling and sighed, turning around in her desk chair to face him. he looked tired. his hair was disheveled, the bags under his eyes were heavy, but she thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. she leaned up to catch his lips in a kiss. “come lay with me.”

joe grabbed her hand and brought her to her feet, watching her plop onto the bed with a sigh. he took a much slower approach, trying to squat into a sitting position on the side of the bed. his groans were loud and y/n was sure the other girls in her building would suspect they were doing something more than just laying down together.

“here, let me help.” she sat up, swinging her legs onto the floor and walking to his side. she kneeled down, untying the laces of his worn out boots and pulling them off his feet. “lay on your belly, if you can.”

“what are you doing?” he asked, clenching his eyes shut when his muscle tweaked as he laid on his stomach. he felt her climb over his sore body and straddle him, sitting on the back of his thighs.

“i’m gonna give you a massage.” she said matter-of-fact. joe couldn’t help but smile in excitement, god, he needs one.

“do i need to take my clothes off?” she could hear the smirk in his voice, but she just rolled her eyes with a smile.

“just your shirt, rantz.” she pushed the back of his head playfully and watched as he grabbed the back of his crewneck over his head, tossing it to the floor. at first, she just scratched his back. he always loved when she did that. whenever they would sleep together, she would always run her nails through his hair, which would end in him asking her if she’ll scratch his back.

“feels so good, baby.” his deep voice grumbled into the mattress. she hummed, rubbing her hands harder to try and relax the taut muscles of his back. his shoulders were broad, and him being on the rowing team was just adding onto the bulk there.

when she hit a particularly sore spot, joe whimpered into the mattress. y/n hated herself for enjoying the sounds he was making, her legs involuntarily clenching around his. joe could feel her action, to her dismay, but not to her knowledge. he knew she liked when he was more vocal in bed, it spurred her on like nothing else to know that he was feeling so good, just from her.

so he did it again.

and again.

y/n worked her hands against his skin, working the tops of his shoulders since that seemed to be where he was hurting the most. every time the heel of her hand dug into the muscle, he would let out a groan, whine, whimper, or praise. she was practically soaked by now.

“are you doing that on purpose?” she halted her hands and leaned down to his head to hear his answer.

“doing what?” the smug bastard knew was this was doing to y/n.

“you are!” she stood up from the bed with tinted cheeks.

“aw, cmon, baby!” he sat up, sitting on his knees in her dorm bed. it was funny, really, how small her bed looked compared to him. they could barely fit on it together, but they liked being close anyways.

“no, you’ve made me mad.” she turned her back to him and looked out of the window. she wasn’t really mad. embarrassed? perhaps. but she just wanted to see how well he would apologize.

“seriously? i- okay.” he stood from the bed, taking into account how good his back felt now. he circled his arms around her waist, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. “i’m sorry.” she stood her ground, though it was hard to hide just how much she loved his body being this close to hers. “y/n…” she didn’t move an inch, so joe braced his hands and spun her around to face him. so quickly, in fact, that she lost her footing and fell into joe’s strong chest. she looked up at him with a smile and blush rising from her neck to the tips of her ears.

“i’m not mad.” she giggled. “but i would like a better apology.”

“but i wasn’t doing anything.” he was slowly leaning down, hoping to get a kiss, but she brought her fingers up to his puckered lips.

“first, you get me all flustered and embarrassed and then you make me trip onto you! joe rantz, i’ll need flowers, and chocolate, and a homemade card-” her sarcastic rant is cut off when he pulls her hand away from his mouth and entraps her lips with his.

“hush, and lay down. i’ll show you how sorry i am.”

[irisintheafterglow]

live, laugh, pro racer!gojo :))

and, wow! just look at that absolute speed demon go!

"speed dumbass seems to be a more fitting description," you remark in response to the announcer's excited narration, sending quiet snickers through the pit crew behind you. "hey, hotshot. let up a little on those hairpins or your engine's gonna overheat," you radio through to his earpiece and pray to the racing gods that he listens. as if to spite you, he accelerates more aggressively through the following turn, causing a concerning but not impactful spike in temperature.

"only reason they'll overheat is 'cause you're on the line, pretty."

"it's my job on the line if you break down, satoru."

"i'm well aware of that, sweetheart," comes his voice from the other end. you were painfully aware of the thousands of spectators watching his point of view and listening in on your conversation. "rest assured, i won't get you fired."

"that's not up to you," you remind him, clicking through the telemetry statistics and glancing at the timing screen before concluding that everything was running as it should, albeit a little bit hot from the driver's arrogance. suguru whispers something in your ear and you dutifully relay it to the idiot behind the wheel. "you can lay off a bit on the straightaways; you have enough wiggle room to give the car a breather."

"but what if i don't wanna?" you breathe deeply through your nose, clenching and unclenching your fists in suppressed irritation. the pit crew keeps laughing behind you and you give them a look that says can you believe this guy? "pssht, houston, do you copy? what's with the radio silence?"

a risky but flawless turn by gojo satoru, who's been in the lead since the start of the race!

"watch your wheels, satoru. keep pulling turns like that and you'll have to come get 'em changed. even you can't escape balding," you mutter with a smirk on your lips and you can imagine his indignant expression. "as much as i wish it'd come faster so you look less pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" fuck. his shit-eating grin is evident in his tone.

"yeah, pretty stupid," you retort, face burning and glancing at suguru for help. he merely smiles in amusement, returning to whatever the job of lead mechanic requires. "finish the race and get back here so i can strangle you."

"shoko's gonna have a field day dealing with that one, boss."

"says the pr nightmare that got banned from pre-race interviews," you scoff and he slams his foot on the accelerator in response. "hey, hey, easy there; don't be breaking my car."

"i'll buy you a new one," he mutters, crossing the finish line like he'd done it in his sleep. the crew and his managers let out a collective sigh of relief before cheering like they'd won the lottery. you, however, are transfixed on the voice on the way to pull into the pit. "and whatever else you want for dealing with my bullshit all the time."

"look at you being all self-aware," you tease, "this is new and i'm not sure if i like it."

"i can go back to being an asshole, if you want," he suggests and your attention flicks to the vehicle pulling in and immediately being swarmed by reporters, cameras, and the crew. you set down your headphones at the same time he pulls off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog that just took a bath. despite the crowd of microphones being shoved in front of him and the champagne being popped over his head, the only priority in his mind is you. "hi, pretty," he whispers in your ear when he finally takes you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "thanks for helping me win."

"i feel like i was a suggestion box whose papers were being incinerated," you argue lightheartedly. he shoots a look of warning to a reporter getting a little too close to you to be considered friendly and the man recoils in fear. "but i guess you did race pretty well."

"couldn't have done it without you," he murmurs lovingly.

"and you better not forget it."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[partycatty]

I don’t know if you’re open to requests but me and my friend have this hc and I would like to see your rendition of it. The reader is stressed about their Algebra test coming up and since Johnny has a PhD in quantum mechanics and deals with that stuff, he offers to help. And as the reader is thinking on the problem Johnny gives them, they put the pencil in their mouth seductively but are unaware of it and Johnny gets a little… riled up. And you can take it from there :)

Love ya !! 🥰💜

ough i love me a big smart man

johnny cage > teach you a lesson

notes: my last fic took all of my mental strength for smut for now so it's only gonna be implied

[ masterlist ]

• damn you and your stubbornness, you're here trying to get your engineering degree and the class you put off all these years finally creeps up on you... and you hate math. thankfully, your best friend has a phd (which still baffles you when you think about it too much; not that he's stupid, more that it's so out of left field for him that you thought he was joking when he first told you).

• knocking on his door, he answers so quickly you wonder if he tumbled down the stairs to answer you in record time. he was always ready to do anything you asked of him, so you knew he was the right person to go to

• you explain the situation, about how you're teetering on the edge of just tearing your textbooks apart with your teeth before he slows you down with his hands on your shoulders.

• johnny ushers you in, welcoming you to his dining room after sweeping the various accumulation of stuff littering every surface to a degree.

• johnny's smarter than you gave him credit for, focusing on his well-articulated lecture but you find yourself missing the middle portion of his lessons when his veiny arms are exposed as he rolls up his shirt. his hands were so defined, so strong...

• "are you even listening?" he groans dramatically, waving said head in front of your face. "you wanna pass this class or not?"

• you swallow thickly, though the subject is still shamefully fuzzy in your mind. nodding slowly, johnny pinches the bridge of his nose before resuming.

• "maybe this'll be easier if we..." he leans over your seated form, towering over you as he flips your notes to a blank page over your shoulder. "here." he writes an example equation, a relatively easy one so he could break it down for you.

• shaking the dirty thoughts, you try to pick the equation apart, separating what you know is in the correct order of operations, but you're stumped when the denominators don't add up like they should.

• the tip of your pencil brushes against your bottom lip as your brows knit in thought. it swiped across the width of your lip, pushing in ever so slightly against your teeth as you desperately try to find a way past the confusion.

• johnny falls eerily silent, fists clenching as he breathing feels hot and heavy down your neck. he rubs his face, circling the table with a long sigh. the noise draws your attention, completely oblivious to how tight his pants were from the display.

• "sorry," you sheepishly look down at the paper. "this is... a lot."

• "no... no! you're fine!" johnny snaps himself back to reality at your puppy eyed expression, like his desperation for you was somehow your fault when it was really his for not knowing how to keep things in control.

• you feel smaller as you sink into the chair, trying to retrace your steps through the numbers. instinctively, the pencil finds its way to your mouth again and you gently suck on the shortened eraser, your tongue pressing against the head of it as the multiplication takes its time in your mind.

• johnny chokes on air, punching his chest to hide his flustered face. he can't even look at you or you might notice the steam from his ears.... why were you here again?

• "you're not helping," you remind him teasingly, and he jogs to your side with a cool breath to regulate his temperature. "did i do this right?"

• johnny leans down, his chin almost on your shoulder as he inspects your work. the error stands out to him at lightning speed and he pulls at your wrist, abruptly tugging the pencil from your mouth and slamming it against the table.

• "there," he huffs out, circling the error with his finger. "five over nine. not nine over five." his eyes flick between the back of your head and the pencil, and the way the eraser shines. he might pass out if he thinks too hard about it.

• he should've picked an easier equation so you'd stop thinking so damn hard about this, he thinks. the pencil wanders back between your lips and it's when you bite down on the pink tip his flat palm slaps the table, making everything rattle. you jump and look up with a shocked expression.

• "can you... not." he breathes, cheeks red and brows furrowed.

• "not... what?" you look down, maybe you had a bad habit in the math process?

• "don't do that." he's being vague, it's getting on your nerves.

• "you're gonna have to be clearer."

• "keep that thing away from your mouth," johnny points at your fingers twirling the pencil, an accusatory finger firm like he caught it committing a crime.

• "the pencil?" you're caught off guard, wondering what his issue is.

• "yes, the damn pencil!" he groans, running a hand down his face. "can't think straight for a single second when you're... you know."

• it clicks in your head, what he's asking of you. it flusters you but also fills you with an egotistical desire. you always had a lingering crush on your best friend, but you never wanted to act on it out of fear of losing the best thing that ever happened to you. johnny's deep, dark voice makes your core stir as you think about the possibilities, how to test the waters from here.

• you slowly place it flat against your tongue, trying to ignore the taste as you relish in the way johnny twitches his eye at the sight. he wants to look away but you're forcing him to, that knowing glint fatal for his heart. the thought of your tongue holding the heavy weight of his thumb, or worse, his dick, is driving him up the wall.

• johnny stomps beside you, grabbing your wrist and pulling the pencil away, managing to throw it out of your grasp and capturing your lips with his own as the pencil rolls off on its own adventure.

• his kiss is consuming, far too much for your mind as you grow dizzy at the loss of breath. his hands pull at your face and neck, trying to squish your face against his as he swallows every whimper and gasp for breath you expel.

• just as he pulls away to get oxygen, his thumb slides between your lips and presses against your tongue, your hot and heavy breath driving him wild.

• "are you really trying to do this to me?" he asks as your lips wrap around his finger, sucking gently. his eyes flutter shut and he groans, nodding downward with his head.

• "maybe," you quietly reply through his finger, sinking to your knees in front of him, sliding your hands up his outer thighs. you're perfectly in line with his crotch, but your eyes are too busy admiring the flustered actor above you as he looks down his nose. he pulls his thumb away, groaning at the thin trail of saliva that falls down your lip from the loss.

• "i'll teach you a lesson," he reaches for his belt buckle, the clinking of metal dulling every sense but your hearing.

• you can study later... probably.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Hey I was wondering if you could make a Korra x reader where reader is an engineer for future industries and has been working nonstop with Asami to help rebuild republic city after the events of book four. So since reader is always out Korra plans something like a mini date for when she gets home.

- date night! -

Pairings - korra x fem! Reader

An - I’ll be taking a break from clarisse fics for rn but I will get all the request in my inbox for her out eventually it’ll just take a while 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 but please do request for other wlw characters!!

“Right and if I move this here it’ll clear out this section for this” you mumbled to yourself moving the pawns across the board. The map of republic city before you casted different locations that were in need of repair.

The wooden doors behind you opened, figuring it was just some secretary you payed them no mind. “Set the plans on the desk beside the window” you aimlessly spoke waving your hand off.

“I would do that-” a feminine voice chuckled. “-If i was an assistant.” Turning around quicker than you should of you shockingly looked at asami. Her sweet smile making you feel a little embarrassed. “When did you take a break?”

Smiling cockily you stood up and crossed your arms. “Actually, I took one at 12”

“Am or pm”

You rolled your eyes which gave her the answer she assumed. She shook her head disapproving, leaning on the table she examined the work you had started. Flicking the pawn down asami brought her eyes back to you. “The office will be closed for the weekend.”

“I’ll still be coming in if that’s fine, I just need to finish a few plans an—“

“Do you ever take a stop working?” She laughed. “Whatever plans you have can wait.. besides the avatar has been a quite worried about you” her playful teasing made you hold your head down in shame.

It had been a few months since you began your relationship with Korra. Her only writing you and asami letters for months help build a strong connection between you all, but her getting encouragement and advice from the beautiful woman made her eventually ask you out.

Throwing your papers into a folder and grabbing your bag you left the office embarrassed. If she wanted you to take a break you were going to do it by choice not force.

———

Taking your shoes off and setting your bag aside you sunk down onto the couch. The apartment you shared with Korra had been decorated in water tribe style.

It took only a minute before you felt an all to familiar weight lean beside you. Opening your eyes you saw Korra with her back pressed against your arm. She wore a pair of pajamas with her hair wet.

“Hey” you tiredly smiled.

“Hi” she smiled, moving to fall into your lap. Looking down you couldn’t help but fall in love with her childish yet charming grin.

“Hungry?” She eventually pulled herself up. “I ordered some takeout” walking to the kitchen Korra brought out two containers, one filled with your favorite order.

Sitting with you again she happily ate her meal. It was sweet how she was always thinking about you. “So” she spoke with a mouth full. “How was today?”

“The normal, making adjustments here n’ there, making new plans and changing the budget when needed” you sighed. Even with the spirt world being connected with yours and the multiple improvements you were making after the Kuvira invasion it sometimes still felt like too much. “And you? Any new avatar business”

She shook her head with a smile. “No, actually I spent today doing about the same with you”

“Really?” You playfully went along.

“Yeah” she grunted setting her food on the table in front of you and grabbing a stack of papers. Shuffling through them she handed brightly decorated flier.

Confused you looked down, examining the blue and purple paper you read what you as written in bold ontop.

I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND

My beautiful and wonderful girlfriend has been working so hard to rebuild republic city, so in as a Thank You! She will be receiving a relaxing and soothing spa weekend

“A spa day? Baby you know I can’t do something like that, I have work” you sighed with a heavy heart. It was clear from how her excited expression went flat that she was clearly looking forward to it. However from her smile you knew she wasn’t done just yet.

“About that… the papers that you brought home today asami switched. So for the entire weekend while the office is locked you get to spend time with me with no distractions”

At first you didn’t believe her. Then you got up and ran to your bag, digging through the folder. It was just as Korra said everything you had brought home was just scratch and blank papers.

Giving into her you returned beside your girlfriend. “Fine.. Well do the spa day” her happy cheer made you quickly become content with letting everything go. Only for the weekend though, that’s all you could spare.

———

Laid back you groaned in satisfaction as Korra gently placed the hot stones along your spine. Using her bending she helped adjust the temperature.

“Fuck I needed this” you let out a heavy breath that had been kept in a while. It felt nice to let everything be bygones.

“It’s ok to admit I’m the best” she cockily smiled, setting yet again another stone on your body.

Her comment made you giggle “mm yeah but if I did then who would tell you when your wrong?”

Her scoff like laugh proved you won the banter. Turning your head to the side you watched as the avatar set a group of rocks into the water, using fire bending she created heat around her hands to make it boil.

“Have i ever told you how beautiful you look when your concentrating on your bending?” You mumbled out, falling asleep.

“Yeah but telling me again can’t hurt” her cocky streak was going to be the death of you. Bringing the bucket over she took the now cooled stones off your bare skin. Before placing the newer hotter ones on she kissed you quickly on the lips. Almost like an attempt to embarrass you but it only made you happy.

“Just relax” Korra’s strong voice lulling you to sleep. At this point you couldn’t fight it anymore, maybe she was right you did need the break.

[harryyskiwii]

Summary: You get your wisdom teeth removed and Harry looks after you.

Pairing: Boyfriend Harry x Reader

Word count: 2,290

A/N: Thank you to the lovely follower who requested this! I had fun writing this. hope you enjoy it!

The day you had been dreading was finally here; the day were had to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were grateful that Harry was able to take the day off to come with you and look after you. To say you were nervous was an understatement and you couldn’t hide it.

“You’re shaking love” Harry remarked as he looked across at you for a brief moment while he was driving and placing his hand on top of yours to help comfort you.

You hadn’t noticed were visibly shaking but you looked down and saw your shaky hands, you sighed in frustration.

“I hate this” and Harry smiled sympathetically “I know you do babe. Just think, within an hour it’ll all be done and we’ll be back home. I’ll be with you the whole time, you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want” he offered and you smiled over at him.

“Fancy switching places with me?” You joked and he stifled a laugh “if I could I would babe but you’re gonna be just fine, think happy thoughts” he said, which was much easier said than done.

You weren’t being ‘put under’ for it since your dentist had assured you wouldn’t need it and that the teeth were “easily accessible” whatever that meant in dentist talk so you were more nervous that you would be awake the entire time.

He pulled up outside the dental practice and turned off the engine. You were sitting with your head against the headrest, trying to hold it together. You let out a shaky breath to try and slow your heart rate down.

“Breathe baby, you’re okay. Take a big deep breath in” Harry instructed as he helped you slow down your breathing. You did as Harry said and held it for a few seconds “and slowly out” he said and you blew out, trying to calm down.

“Better?” He asked and you nodded, keeping your eyes closed. “It’ll be okay, I know it’s scary but I won’t leave your side alright? I know you can do this” he said brushing a piece of hair away from your face.

You sighed once again and opened your eyes to see Harry looking at you sympathetically.

“Come on, let’s get it over with” he said as he encouraged you. You knew you had to do it, there was no way of getting out of it so you pulled yourself out of the car and took Harry’s hand for support as you walked into the dentist.

If your stomach wasn’t already doing somersaults before, it certainly was now that the all too familiar clinical smell hit you like a ton of bricks as soon as you stepped inside.

“I feel sick” you whispered to Harry “it’s okay, just try to slow your breathing down. Go and sit down and I’ll check you in” he said placing a kiss on your forehead.

You walked over to the waiting room and took a seat in one of the empty chairs. Luckily, there was only one older man reading a paper who was sitting in there with you.

You looked at your phone for the time, it was 9:55am, it only 5 minutes until your appointment. Your stomach felt queasy and you had started shaking again. Your heart stopped when you heard the waiting room door open but relaxed slightly when you seen it was only Harry coming to join you.

“You okay?” He said quietly while he was coming to join you.

“I’m great, never been better” you replied sarcastically and he laughed.

“Alright missy, enough with the sarcasm”

“Sorry, ignore me” you said to him.

“I’ll never ignore you” he said putting his arm around you for comfort. “How about after this we head home and have a movie day on the sofa?”

You nodded in response and it was quiet for a few seconds until the waiting room door opened again.

A young dental nurse came in and called for the man who was reading the paper. You were dreading your name being called next.

The thought of a man pulling 4 teeth out of your mouth while you were awake in just under 5 minutes, terrified you so much so that you were ready to stand up and leave, that was until the waiting room door being opened and you heard your name being called.

You must have looked like a rabbit in headlights as Harry chuckled a little next to you.

“Come on love” Harry said as he stood up and held his hand out for you to take.

You stood up, taking his hand and looking towards the door to see an older looking lady with dark brown hair which was pinned back with a claw clip.

“Morning darling! How are you today?” She asked kindly as you approached.

“Fine thank you” you replied sheepishly.

“Gorgeous day today isn’t it! I just love the sunshine, I wish it could stay all year round” she said cheerily as she led you back to the room. Her name tag read 'Anne' which comforted you a little bit as she sort of reminded you of Harry’s mum, Anne, who always chatted away and made you feel comfortable.

She was a bubbly woman who looked to be in her 50’s with dark brunette hair.

You couldn’t really concentrate on what she was saying however as you were just trying your best not to faint as you walked through the corridor.

Approaching the room, Anne held the door open for you “Here we are, on you two go in”

You walked in and a new wave of nausea hit you when you saw the dental chair.

“Hi y/n, in you come and take a seat” the dentist who was in his late 40’s said as you and Harry walked in.

You smiled sheepishly and said hello as you took a seat in the chair, Harry introducing himself to the dentist and then sitting down on the little couch that was situated by the window for friends and family.

“How are you today?” He asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves to get started.

“Fine thank you” you replied, your voice shaky as you couldn’t hide the fact you were scared.

“A bit nervous?” He said sensing your fear and you nodded “yeah, I’m not looking forward to it” you said and he smiled sympathetically.

“I completely understand, do you want me to run through how we’ll do it to try and put your mind at ease?”

You nodded and the dentist spent the next 5 minutes talking briefly over how the appointment would go. It did help put your mind at ease a little bit but you stomach was still doing summersaults.

“Think you’re okay to get started?” The dentist asked and you took a deep breath in and nodded your head before you could back out.

“Great, as I said just focus on your breathing the whole time and I’ll try get you out of here as quick as I can” he said which you appreciated.

You let out another shaky breath and tried to hold back tears as you really didn’t want to do this.

“You okay?” Harry asked and you nodded, tears filling your eyes. As soon as he asked you that, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Come here” he said coming over to hug you as you cried quietly into his shoulder.

“Aw darling, let me get you some tissues” Anne the nurse said when she noticed you crying.

“Talk to us, what are you most nervous about? Is there anything in particular we can do to help you?” She said coming over to you and handing you some tissues.

You thanked her and wiped away your tears. “Just all of it” you said and took a deep breath to try and compose yourself.

“Okay, how about you take a couple of minutes, have some water and we can take it from there? There’s no rush today y/n, take all the time you need. I’ll go and get you a bottle of water” Anne said placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder for comfort.

“We’ll look after you y/n, sit there for a few moments and we’ll start when you’re ready” the dentist said and you thanked him.

You sat with Harry for a few minutes, sipping on the water as he comforted you and hyped you up to get the tooth taken out.

“How are you feeling now?” The dentist said as he came to face you.

“A bit better now thank you, sorry I don’t know what that was I just got overwhelmed” you felt you had to apologise for your earlier emotional outburst.

“Don’t apologise, I don’t want you being upset. Do you feel as though you would be ready to start? It will only take 30 minutes max I promise” the dentist said to you and you looked to Harry who was crouching down by the dental chair.

“You can do this” he encouraged and you took a deep breath and nodded, allowing them to start the procedure.

The procedure actually went better than you thought with the teeth being removed in under 30 minutes. Harry was constantly by your side, rubbing and kissing your hand both as you were getting the injections to numb you and as the teeth were coming out. You were certain without him being there, you wouldn’t have been able to have gotten through it.

You were so relieved when the chair was being brought back up and you saw Harry smiling proudly at you.

“Well done my love, it’s all over with now. Just keep biting on that gauze for me” Anne said.

“You did really well y/n, especially considering how nervous you were. It was a straightforward procedure and the good news is the recovery time is only about a week” the dentist told you.

“I’ll go over some aftercare instructions with you but I’ll give you a leaflet also as I know it can be a lot to take in" The next few moments consisted of the dentist telling you how to look after the extraction sites and things to do and what not to do, not that you were taking it in as you were just relieved it was over and still in a bit of shock of what had just happened but nodded your head in agreement.

“Great. You’re free to go and as I said, if you have any issues, just give us a call”

Harry helped you to your feet and hold on to you as he steadied as you walked back to the car. Although you weren’t put under anaesthesia, you were numb, in shock and overall it was a slightly traumatic experience.

He helped you into the car before jumping round to the driver's side. "How you feeling?" he asked but he already knew the answer.

You rested your head against the window "Like crap" you were numb, certain you were starting to swell and tired from what you had went through.

"You did really well babe, I'm so proud of you. Let's go get a milkshake and we can go home" he said leaning over and placing a kiss on your head.

Within 30 minutes, you were back home in bed with Harry, with your milkshake and a spoon (Harry made sure you didn't use a straw as directed by the dentist) watching Netflix.

Watching 'The Night Agent' on Netflix, you felt your eyes closing as you fell asleep to the sound of the show.

It was the intense pain that eventually woke you up. You groaned as you opened your eyes "you okay y/n?" you heard Harry's voice ask you.

"It hurts" you told him, rubbing your eyes. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom where he returned with a glass of water and some pain meds you had been prescribed.

"Take these love, it should help with the pain. The dentist said you'd start to feel something after about 4 hours"

"I've been asleep for 4 hours?!"

Harry laughed "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you. Plus you probably needed the sleep after this morning"

"You fancy some soup? You'll be starving no doubt" he asked you as you took the painkillers.

You heard your stomach grumbled so agreed to some soup. "Yes please"

He made you some soup and sat in bed with you while you ate it before he ran you a bath. "I'm gonna go get you some ice babe, you're starting to swell" Harry said after your bath while you two were cuddling on the couch that night.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you literally resembled Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Fuck" you muttered as Harry walked back through "Caught a glimpse of yourself?" he laughed as he handed you the ice pack.

"I look like a chipmunk Harry"

"You're a very cute little chipmunk though. The dentist said the swelling was normal for a day or 2 so you'll be my little chipmunk for the next few days"

"I wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying about aftercare. I'll need to phone tomorrow and ask" You told Harry as you couldn't remember a thing they had told you.

"Luckily for you, you have the best boyfriend in the world who took notes" he said showing you his phone with a list of bullet pointed instructions. "Don't worry about it, I'll look after you babe" Harry said kissing your slightly swollen cheeks.

You smiled at him. You were so lucky to have someone as kind and thoughtful as Harry in your life.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

ix. nine: need your love

loraine did not sleep a wink at all. writing only a quarter of the piece for her father yet, she was too tired to lift her fingers anymore. it was a surprise that the family did not ask her about playing the piano last night. they must have missed the way she slammed her fingers on it. that or they chose to be silent about it, respecting the girl's sorrows.

when the sun showed up, the bridgertons coming down one by one, she simply pretended she woke up earlier than them as they crossed each other on the stairs on her way to freshen up.

after they have all done their individual activities and had breakfast together, lady bridgerton ushered her children in the drawing room. the young silva had told her yesterday that she wishes to inform the others too, if it was okay with her. she believed that they deserve to know as well, considering they had their moments with her father too.

"why are we gathered here?" eloise asked, noting the expressions of the people who already know.

violet lightly coughed to compose herself and get their attention, "we have something to tell you all, eloise."

she turned to the young silva, gesturing for her to continue. the girl nodded, pausing to herself and thinking the right words to say. but there really was no easy way to say it, is there? the person they once loved is dead. there is no way around it.

"my father has passed."

she uttered in one breath, the second daughter walking to her at once with a quiver, "oh, raine."

violet's lips formed a thin line as she turned to her other kids, "armand's death is a complex situation, so i ask you all to not let the news leave this home."

her two youngest nodded forlornly as francesca was the only one who found her voice despite the news, "of course, mama."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the three people in the center of this battle settled in anthony's study once again. it has been their office, the only place they can plan with no worry of listeners.

"we must plan our course of action." anthony voiced with tenacity in his eyes.

the lady turned to him as she took a sit on the couch, "we, anthony? no, you are not involving yourself on this."

he regarded the silva in a scolding tone, "there is no need for you to go through this alone. we can help. we can ask lady danbury, the duke of hastings—they will be willing to help."

she could understand his earnestness to be of any form of aid to her. her family was there for him all those hard times before. but this one, she was adamant to let him stay out of this.

"i am not involving civilians in this, anthony. if i could, i will not even involve father's soldiers."

raphael turned to her at the mention, the look of disagreement clear on his features, "raine, with the general gone, we are all at your disposal."

"and this is me saying i will not dispose of you all!" she looked at him directly in the eyes with firmness, placing no room for arguments. the young silva's voice has never been so clear and intact than that.

their heated exchange was interrupted when a knock on the door resonated in the room. major thorpe informed them of his presence before the viscount responded for him to enter.

the soldier acknowledged the two men before going straight to the girl, passing her a letter with the highest legislature's seal. she opened it with unfavorable feeling as gilbert stepped back and out of the room.

raine slowly stood up, eyes still on the paper as raphael walked to her and peered at the paper. his breath hitched at the contents he read, turning away as he raised his head with closed eyes in defeat. the girl dropped her arm hopelessly.

"the parliament has called for our presence."

anthony shut his eyes closed at that. now that the higher government is involving themselves, it will be much harder to find a way out. raine continued in disbelief, "tomorrow afternoon."

"it will be my death." the colonel stated, acceptance and denial mixed in his tone.

"i will go alone." she declared firmly to him once again.

raphael wanted to scoff but he could not bring himself to do so at the graveness of their situation, "absence is punishable for high treason. i am dead either way."

"they have figured we know." she said in realisation, ignoring the former's disagreement of her idea.

the government knowing that they now know of the crown's atrocities to its own people is the most terrible thing that could happen in their current position. they are being left with almost no move or strategy to execute.

"you cannot go." the viscount expressed his thoughts, "there will be a ball tonight. you can attend and we can use it in our advantage to get the ton on our side."

she really appreciated the fact that anthony was so invested in helping them get out of this, but there was simply things that are hard to get out of. she let out an exasperated sigh as she ran her fingers between her hair, muttering to herself, "how did things turn to this?"

raine wanted to tear her hair so much, punch someone, or run yards away. she badly wanted to release the tension that has been building up in her for days, and now this on top of that.

she looked at anthony, "i will not go to the ball, but you must. your absence will reach them and they will link you to use, extending the target to you and your family."

the girl was trying to control her breathing. one problem at a time. she chanted to her head, but fate had other plans. because just after she is trying to deal with one, another came in the form of a newspaper.

gilbert came in, not bothering with a knock this time as urgency in this one is much higher. he immediately handed her the newspaper, announcing the news himself.

"it is out, my lady. they have released the death of the general.

"what?!" raphael exclaimed in immense anger, head noticeably heating in fury.

raine read the headline with incredility in her tone, "they are claiming my father betrayed the crown."

in just a span of a single night, the government had managed to turn the story around. this is very disadvantageous for them. the government releasing what happened first would mean them getting the support of the people first. and the support of the people, no matter how uninformed, is a monstrous force.

raphael continued to read the contents of the column aloud, "they named us under suspicion as well as the rest of the troops."

raine passed the newspaper to him as she sat down in weariness, head casted down in deep thinking, "fuck, they have pushed us to a corner."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the bridgertons have already left for the ball tonight. loraine situated herself in her guest room, joined by raphael as they go through different ideas and strategies on what to do for tomorrow.

they needed a very good plan, or else no one is getting out alive. and so far, there has not been one good plan at all.

"we must parade then, on our way, to sway the people's favor." raine pitched, focusing on turning the people to them so that at the very least, the government could not do anything rash immediately.

the colonel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he shook his head disapprovingly, "they will not be swayed by a single parade of traitors."

the two have been at this for hours now, their ideas getting more and more desparate as the time passes. he looked at her solemnly as he continued.

"you must understand, we are not under suspicion, raine. they have decided we are traitors and we will be written in history as such."

the young silva wanted to tell him otherwise. she wanted to tell the man that the life they have spent on defending the country would not go to waste—that their legacy would not be reduced to something as shameful as treason.

she bit her lips as she herself shook her head in worry, "we can at least try—put on theatrics so that we will at least leave alive after, no matter the sentence."

there was no way out, raphael knew. hence, he admired the girl for trying so hard to save him, to save the soldiers, to save herself.

he inhaled before throwing a pitch of his own, one he was sure the girl would strongly disagree, "we could play like i have taken you hostage as we exit. this way, you will be free of their suspicions."

she placed her pencil down harshly and turned to him, "while you take the fall? no!"

he sighed resignedly, leaning back on his chair, "stop trying to find a way for me to live. no one will believe i do not know anything about the general's plans."

the girl was about to respond, when he continued, "raine, what we should be planning for must be directed on ensuring that our story will not fall on deaf ears. there is no getting out of this unscathed. the thing we must fight for is the truth."

he pushed himself away from the table. he stood with a notable grief on his step, ruffling her hair childishly—the only little act that would bring them the smallest joy in this moment, "we can talk about it again in the morning."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the miserable planning earlier took a toll on her. even the room could not offer her any comfort. and so, she stood up and made her way to the balcony. perhaps, the fresh wind would greet her gently.

raine has been awake for two days straight now, and although she can clearly feel the exhaustion, she had no intention of sleeping. depending on how tomorrow goes, she might not even come out of it alive. there is no point in sleeping now if she will have an eternal one soon. and so, she would like to relish the little moments.

however, her peaceful silent conversation with the night is disrupted when a rushed sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, nearing her.

a certain second son appeared on the balcony.

benedict placed a hand on his chest as he bent down, catching his breath as cold sweat run through his features.

raine looked at him in confusion, "what are you doing here? is the ball done?"

"you must not go tomorrow."

he ordered pointedly as if a command as he stood up straight, chest still heaving deeply. the young silva scoffed at what he said, finding it utterly idiotic.

"i will not if i could."

he paused, trying to think of other things that could convince her, but he knew that she really could not. doing otherwise would mean execution. and so, he tried to calm himself, jumping to the other side and chose to comfort her this time.

"you will be okay. in truth, you really did not know anything about it in the first place." if she could not avoid it, then at the very least there would be not a lot to worry much, "you are not a traitor."

however, they should really worry—extremely. because everyone knows that when your enemy is the crown, there is almost no way to win the match.

"my father was not and look what they did."

"then you cannot go!" he exclaimed in distress and angst as he walked aimlessly near her.

"they know we are staying here, evidently by the letter." her voice began to increase in volume at the persistence of the man, "it is a form of intimidation. they will make you all traitors as they did to us, and i will not let that happen!"

"i will not let you go as well." he defeatedly respond, almost beggingly as he reached for her hands.

"you already have!" raine took her hands from his immediately, as if repulsed by his actions, "in the gardens two nights ago!"

"then i will not this time!"

benedict declared with striking determination, unwaveringly. he let breaths to come in between them before he continued in a softer manner, like an artist that does not know what to paint next.

"this urge to run away from what i love is a sort of sadism i will no longer pretend to understand."

raine wanted to slap him. to punch him. to shoot him. he dares to say such words in misleading context. she was right; he really was exhausting. she looked away, trying her earnest to not let the tears fall from her empty eyes before turning back to him.

"this has always been you, ben. you say one thing today and different the next. you never make up your mind."

"well, this is me." he offered with a gesture presenting himself, "i am here to make up my mind for the first time."

raine has heard it before, when her parents were sitting at the balcony. her father said, thank you for loving me when i still tasted of heartache and war. it was then she saw her mother crying and realised it can also be a form of happiness.

and she wanted to cry because of happiness at his reciprocation. but, she fears it was too late for that.

"is it fun for you to see me chasing and crawlimg for you? declaring my affections rejection after rejection?" she found her voice getting stronger once again, despising the way he acts as if their exchanges before can be simply shrugged by his presence now, "loving you has always been as easy as breathing, but tonight, i am gasping for air."

at her accusing tone, he could not stop himself from defending his person. unknowingly to him, his own voice were laced with malice as he retorted.

"that is because you surround yourself with fire, raine. despite the close proximity, i cannot cross." he took a step back, completely in contrast of his attacking words, "is it fun for you as well? to make a fool of me by the childish notions of your love."

raine gritted her teeth harshly at his words. she can accept his rejections, no problem. but to call her love fake? to call it childish? she stepped forwards to him, pushing his chest with her index finger, rage clear on her features against the good night.

"i am tired of explaining over and over again. just like the fire, my love for you burns!" she stopped the action, throwing her arm back harshly as she directed all her will to her voice, "it will always because it must!"

"and you think me not burned?" he stepped closer, ire and passion blending in his sharp voice, "raine, i am ablazed! its flames are scorching me day after day. you haunt me! your presence screams, even in my dreams—especially, in my dreams."

benedict looked at her piercingly in the eyes, "i dare not love you just as humans should dare not travel the stars. i am not worthy of such heavenly body."

he charmed, his voice gradually becoming smaller, trying to find the peace within him. he ran his fingers between his hair, looking away in utter shame of his words. he sighed heavily, opening his eyes to catch sight of her once again.

"i have seen you since you were an innocent young. i have been with you throughout everything." his voice small, like a child confessing his sins, "i have seen you grow into such a fine lady as you always were, even as a child."

the realisation of his words did not come to him, seemingly decided to divulge his side of ugliness and his twisted love—his deviant nature, all for her to see.

"does that not make your bones curl?! does that not disgust you enough?! for goodness' sake! the voice in my head is a monster, raine. he does not whisper. he has been screaming for me to do things—to grab you, to seize you, to put you under me. do you know how hard it is to drown him down?"

raine could do nothing but watch the man she has yearned for all her life reveal his innermost aberrant tendencies. it was a kind of undressing.

"i held lady arnold in my arms, her mouth exploring myself and all i can utter is your name, just as i have always done with other women. is that not sickening enough?"

he gazed at her beggingly, as if a cry for help—a cry for her to free him from whatever this is. he took a step back from her defeatedly, like a man afraid of touching what he loves in fear of it breaking.

"like the fire, i cannot touch you."

and at his final confession, she walked towards him, steps evident with striking determination and eyes filled with passion.

"then let me."

she took a hold of his collar and pulled him to her, their lips connecting desperately and mouth starving for each other. maybe, there was nothing more to say. perhaps, she has said everything.

his hands and lips moved in reflex, deepening the kiss as he pushed her back on the wall. she grasped on the back of his head as he lifted her leg, his lips brushing her ear as he settled on her jawline. his other hand explored her harshly, his mouth dangerously grazing her purity.

they took themselves away from the wall, lips longing for the other again as he guided her slowly inside, fighting for each other's taste. playing their aggressiveness in front of the door, he wasted no time in turning the knob, pushing themselves inside.

in contrary to what edgar allan poe said, years of love were not forgotten in the hatred of a minute. it was amplified.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @omy0 @idek-what-to-put

[starkwlkr]

hi love <3 your work is some of my favorites! was wondering if u could write about charles and pt!reader? its their first year with ferrari as a physical therapist and hes been trying to get closer to them, so he dramatizes a small injury just to go see them. feel free to adjust or whatever, you always make it work beautifully! much love :)

love hurts | charles leclerc

sorry for the wait :/ i hope this is what you hoped for <3 almost done with more requests so more content coming soon!

Y/n watched as Charles exited out of his car. The start to the Australian Grand Prix was already a mess for him. She was starting to think that every time she said good luck to him, it only brought him bad luck. The 2023 wasn’t too kind to Charles Leclerc so far.

“He’s fine, he’s okay.” She said to herself as she continued watching the race. Turns out, nothing was really okay. The Australian Grand Prix was for sure one to remember.

After the podium ceremony, Y/n was in her office going through paper work. Her work was interrupted when she heard a light knock on her opened door. She looked up and saw Charles, still in his racing suit.

“Hey, Xavi didn’t tell me you were coming.” She said. Usually an engineer or even their team principal would tell Y/n that one of their drivers would be visiting her.

“He doesn’t know I’m here.” Charles admitted. “My back has been hurting a little. I just want to make sure I didn’t injure myself.” He said.

“Oh. I can help with that. I mean it is my job, obviously. It would be unprofessional of me if I didn’t help you. And I’m rambling so just ignore me and come in.” Y/n nodded then watched Charles close the door and walk to the examination table and sat down.

“Did you say back pain?” Y/n asked when she saw that Charles was sitting rather than laying down on his stomach. He knew he had to lay down, he had done it many times before.

“Now that I remember, I think my shoulder hurts too. And my knee and I definitely feel a headache coming.” Charles listed.

Y/n chuckled at his words. She then cleared her throat and looked at him with a serious face. “Charles, this is serious.”

“I’m more serious than ever. You’ve been here a year and we’ve never gotten to know each other. I think we should change that.” Charles said, swinging his legs like a child.

“What would the media think when they see Charles Leclerc and his physical therapist together outside of work?” Y/n asked.

“They would say we look cute together and I would agree.” He smiled at her. “We have a month free. I would very much like to know the real you. No work, no races, and no faking injuries just so I can see you.”

Y/n swore her knees were getting weak. She never thought that Charles would even ask her to hang out outside of work. Was it even a hang out? Did he consider it a date? Whatever it was, she was all in.

[steve-faglan]

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

[queerfortress2]

Hello!

May I request any number of mercs you’d like to write for helping a S/O who is getting burnt out from work/school/general busy life stuff?

I’m having the worst burnout right now and it stinks :/

If I had any preference…any of these: Medic, Engie, Scout, Spy

You can write for one, you can write for all of them, whatever you would like to do.

I’m a woman and use she/her but you can make this gender neutral so non-female folks can also enjoy, whichever you’d like!

Hope you’re well, and thank you <3

an engie request finally you don’t understand — mod engie

GN!READER X MEDIC + ENGINEER + SCOUT + SPY (SEPARATE)

MEDIC

my brother in christ he is ALSO working. 2fort’s best paper pusher right there.

if you see work pile up he wouldn’t be opposed to helping you if you ignore is own work piling up. he doesn’t mind it really, as much as he says he doesn’t get burnt out he absolutely does and completely understands.

also taking you out of a work environment !! separate yourself from work for a little while, it’ll make you feel a lot better. he would take you somewhere nice if he wasn’t banned for 99% of public spaces, but does his best with what he has. you can walk around town together or he’ll invite you to his private quarters for you to relax with him and his Unusual Amount of Doves.

he’s also huge he’s practically a living weighted blanket. he isn’t exactly one to lay down and cuddle for hours but he can give you physical comfort before he finds himself distracted by something else in the room. you WILL have to listen to his crazy side rants if you spend time with him.

over all i think he’s more work oriented, so i think he’s more focused on “getting it all done” than “girl fuck your work we’ll go out on the town”

ENGINEER

paper pusher number two

he saw it happening before you did and probably dragged you out of the workshop before it got too serious. in the most non-creepy way possible he finds himself observing you frequently when you work together (or just in the same area) and will run checks on you frequently. need water? don’t worry about it, got a mini fridge right there for you— hey would you be a darling and pass the beer over too? thanks.

hospitality is his deal, even if you’re dating he finds himself treating you like a guest. you get the top priority. ignore his constant working and hypocrisy and he’s like a mini nurse.

also also probably does the work for you while he distracts you with something else. he doesn’t mean to be untruthful but.. while you nap he might’ve finished up a bit of your work and just told you that you did it but you were so tired you didn’t remember. HE JUST WANTS THE BEST FOR YOU

celebration too! he can actually go places, he takes you to a nice little diner and has dinner with you. he’s wearing his stupid little plaid shirt and jeans to dress nice and is TOTALLY playing but off like he’s the prettiest boy at the party. (he is) he even does the slick back hair motion on his hardhat (or very bald head). i want his dead /pos.

SCOUT

brother doesn’t know what he’s doing. he is one of the WORST at trying to help you get work done. he honestly just tells you to forget about it and you both just leave to go run about the base for a bit. a good jog never hurt anyone, i guess. (pauling is drowning in work)

he’s irresponsible so don’t trust him to help you either, he’ll forget about it and get distracted with something else entirely. but it’s the thought that counts! he’s also illiterate so that’s probably a problem with homework or just filing pages…

he also doesn’t take no for an answer, if you shove him off he’s just gonna keep pestering you, or if you’re small enough? just GRAB YOU. you’re leaving that desk whether you like it or NOT. you’re gonna go— as the kids say— “touch grass.” it’s gonna happen.

on the bright side, you’re never bored, he’s extremely entertaining. even if it gives you guys weird looks out in public, at least you aren’t frowning! you’re just having a good time.

if anything you’re going to get a good break, but when you get back that work is still going to be there, that’s a guarantee.

[mepuppy]

Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

A.N.: I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language. Here's the secon episode, I hope you like it.

1x01 1x02

Word Count: 8k

1x03 - Dead in the Water 

The Impala is parked in front of a building with a sign that says THE Lynnwood INN, with the Harley next to it. Inside the restaurant Dean is sitting with a basically empty plate in front of him while he circles obituaries in a newspaper.

“Hey, look at this one” he turns the paper and shows Y/n the one circled saying: CARLTON, SOPHIE - The Carlton family is sad to announce the death of their beloved daughter in a tragic swimming accident. Sophie Carlton, 18, was having her [...] Lake Manitoc WI, an [...] suddenly [...] 

The girl tries to think where she heard about Lake Manitoc before, because the name sounds familiar. “Where did I hear this name befo…” She starts but a waitress approaches.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asks, looking only at Dean who looks up and grins around the pen he's chewing on. But before anyone can say anything Sam comes over and sits down.

“Just the check, please.” He says and the waitress nods and walks away, once she’s out of earshot Dean drops his head, then looks at Sam.

“You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” As Dean points to Wendy walking away; she's wearing short shorts, y/n gets up and grabs her crossbody bag. “That's fun.”

Sam looks at him then at y/n, who hands him the newspaper rolling her eyes. “Dean found something.” She turns around and heads outside. Dean follows her with his eyes before turning to Sam.

“Here, take a look at this,” he says with the situation passing right over his head “I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.” he explains handing the waitress the credit card when she approaches.

“A funeral?” Sam asks when she leaves again.

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever.” Dean makes a face and looks through the window seeing y/n getting on her bike with the helmet still in her hands.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean.” he looks up to his brother 

“Other people just stop looking for them.” he raises one eyebrow.

“Something you want to say to me?” he asks when the waitress brings the receipt back and they head outside to meet with y/n.

“The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day.” Sam looks at Dean like he doesn’t understand english.

“Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” the older brother asks, looking at the Impala next to the Harley.

“I don't know. Something. Anything.” he throws his hands in the air as they approach the girl waiting for them.

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” he turns to the youngest and his brows come together.

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just… ” he starts but Dean continues.

“I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies…”

“We will find John, okay? But until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Right?” Y/n cuts Dean off and looks at the two men with her helmet in the air, halfway to putting it on. “C’mon. Wisconsin, right?” she asks and puts the helmet on. Sam rolls his eyes. “How far?” she turns to them as they get in. 

The Impala drives past a sign that reads ‘Welcome to Lake Manitoc, WI’. Dean puts his arm out the window and points at the sign, and the girl holds a thumbs up.

They drive until reaching the Carlton house. The engines stop and they get out of their vehicles. Dean knocks on the door and a young man opens it.

“Will Carlton?” Dean asks 

“Yeah, that's right.” Will answers nodding his head.

“I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Clover. We're with the US Wildlife Service.” Dean holds up an ID. “Can we ask you some questions?”

“Uhm, sure.” Will says and closes the door behind him heading to the lake. Bill Carlton, the father, is sitting on a bench on the dock. Will brings the trio around to see him. “So I guess you want to hear the story, right?” he looks at Sam who nods. “She was about a hundred yards out. That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” y/n asked.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer.” Will says with a sad chuckle “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam asked him and he looked over at the tallest man.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.”

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” y/n stepped around Sam to look at Will.

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“‘You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean tries.

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?” he whips his head to Dean and asks worried.

“We'll let you know as soon as we do.” y/n tells him and turns around. She and Dean started head back to the car.

“What about your father?” Sam asks, pointing with his head at the older man. The other two stop and turn back. “Can we talk to him?” 

Will turns to look at Bill, then turns back. “Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot.”

“We understand.” Sam nods and turns around heading to the car. 

“So, now what? Police station?” Dean asks.

“I think is our best option right now.” y/s says, mounting her bike again.

Inside the police station the Sheriff is talking to them. “Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” he sounds confused.

“You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam explains to the sheriff what was told to them.

“Like what?” They walk into the Sheriff's office, he motions to chairs in front of his desk “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake.” They all seat “There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

Dean looks at his brother and best friend, but then scoffs to the sheriff “Yeah.” He laughs. “Right.” the two glance at Dean

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still…” Sheriff Jake sits down. “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That's weird, though,” y/n starts “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.” she says, tilting her head.

“I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.” he tells looking at her and she nods. “Anyway…” Jake sighs and leans back “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, getting confused.

“Well, the dam, of course.” the sheriff looks at Dean. Sam nods.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak.” Dean tries to save looking at y/n and back at the sheriff.

“It's falling apart,” Dean nods “and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” he looks between the three hunters.

“Exactly.” Sam nods.

There’s a tap on the door and a young woman enters. “Sorry, am I interrupting?” The trio stand up.”I can come back later.”

“Gentlemen, Madam, this is my daughter.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean.” Dean shakes Andrea’s hand.

“Andrea Barr. Hi.”

“Hi.” y/n says waving at her with a tight smile. Ans Sam raises his hand to give her a little wave too.

“They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake.” Jake tells his daughter and she nods with an understanding in her face. A boy walks in, around Andrea.

“Oh, hey there. What's your name?” Dean crouches to be at the little boy’s height. He walks away without speaking and Andrea follows.

“His name is Lucas.” the sheriff says looking at Lucas and Andrea as she gives him some crayons out of a box e he starts drawing.

“Is he okay?” y/n asks the officer looking at them too.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have.” he stands and goes to the office door. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” They all leave the office

“Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” Dean asks looking more at Andrea than the sheriff as he asks

“Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.” she says smiling and pointing in the direction.

“Two—would you mind showing us?” he asks, pretending to be confused, Andrea laughs.

“You want me to walk you two blocks?” she retorts, resting one hand on her hip.

“Not if it's any trouble.” he tries one last time, smiling charmingly. Sam looks at y/n from the corner of his eye and sees her rolling her eyes softly.

“I'm headed that way anyway.” Dean’s smile spread even wider. She turns to Lucas placing a kiss on the top of his head, looking at her father and saying “I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three.” then looking at the boy again “We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?”

“Thanks again.” Sam says following Dean and Andrea. Y/n smile and go after them.

Andrea is leading them through the street, with Dean by her side and the other two following behind. The car and bike left around the station. “So, cute kid.” Dean says smiling at her.

“Thanks.” she answers as they cross a street.

“Kids are the best, huh?” he throws back at her. Sam and y/n look at each other. Andrea glances at him and ignores him. They keep walking, until stopping in front of a building that says LAKEFRONT MOTEL.

“There it is. Like I said, two blocks.” she motions to the building.

“Thanks.” Sam says and she looks form Dean to Sam smiling, then looking back.

“Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” she leaves, calling back over her shoulder “Enjoy your stay!”

“'Kids are the best'?” y/n asks looking at the older man with a mockingly smile on her face.

“You don't even like kids.” Sam continues.

“I love kids.” Dean retorts back

“Name three children that you even know.” Sam teases 

Dean thinks and comes up empty. Sam waves a hand and walks into the motel with a laughing y/n following him. Dean scratches his head. “I'm thinking!” he follows the other two.

Inside the motel room, y/n gets out of the bathroom drying her hair in a towel, wearing a tanktop and some jeans, while Dean goes through his clothing. Sam works on his laptop. “So there's the three drowning victims this year.” he says changing tabs.

“Any before that?” Dean asks, grabbing a shirt and smelling it.

“Uh, yeah.” he skims through the article he has opened  “Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.”

Dean tosses a pair of pants onto a bed together with the shirt he separated before. Y/n goes behind Sam to look at the screen. “So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?”

“This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam shakes his head as he says it. Dean comes over to read over Sam's shoulder standing next y/n.

“Why?” she asks looking at the back of Sam’s head.

“Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing.” Sam looks at the Tribune homepage “Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it.” he scrolls to the comments section of an article. 

Dean points at something. “Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?”

Sam reads from the page. “Christopher Barr, the victim in May.” he clicks a link, opening a new page. 

The trio read the article: LOCAL MAN IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT. The picture loads: it shows a police officer with Lucas.

“Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father.” y/n says leaning over Sam’s shoulder to look at the man on the screen, her bare shoulder pressed against Dean’s, that looked in her direction and encountered the low neckline of her tank top.

“Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.” Sam skims through and clicks the picture for a better look, then scratches his head. “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.”

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over.” y/n say looking back at Dean, who hurries to meet her eyes, swallowing.

“Okay, let me just hit the shower and we can go to the park and meet them, what do you say?” he asks her and Sam who nods.

Kids are laughing and playing. Andrea sits on a bench and watches Lucas, who is at another bench coloring and playing with toy soldiers. “Can we join you?” Sam asks, looking at her.

She looks up at the trio. “I'm here with my son.” she answers.

Dean looks over at Lucas. “Oh. Mind if I say hi?” he doesn't wait for an answer and goes over to Lucas.

“Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.” Sam sits next to Andrea, while y/n walks a bit and stops looking at the other kids, closer to Dean than to Sam.

“How's it going?” Dean kneels down next to the bench where Lucas is coloring; when the boy doesn't even look up, Dean picks up one of the toy soldiers. “Oh, I used to love these things.” He imitates guns and explosions, then tosses the toy soldier down when the boy still doesn’t look at him. “So crayons is more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists.” y/n smiles and shakes her head looking down.

Lucas has a pile of drawings on the bench. Dean takes a look. The top one is of a big black swirl; the second one is of a red bicycle. Dean holds the bicycle one up “Hey, these are pretty good. You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?” he picks up a crayon “I'm not so bad myself.”

Dean sits on the bench, picks up a pad of paper, and starts drawing. “You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk.” he glances quickly at the boy “I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something.” he pauses “Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.” he stops drawing and looks at Lucas “Okay, no problem. This is for you.”

Dean holds out to Lucas the picture of stick figures he drew. “This is my family. That's my dad. That's my mom.” Dean chokes a little when showing the woman in the drawing which makes y/n look at them “That's my geek brother. That’s my weird best friend, and that's me.” he says pointing at each figure as he speaks. after a pause he continues “All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas.”

Dean heads back to y/n.  “You okay?” she asks putting one hand on his arm and he nods, motioning for her so they can go back to Sam and Andrea.

As they approach Andrea and Sam they hear Andrea speaking “Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.”

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry.” Sam answers her and she nods.

“What are the doctors saying?” y/n asks curiously.

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress.” as the woman answers y/n sees Lucas looking at the picture Dean drew for him.

“That can't be easy. For either of you.” Sam looks at her.

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” She trails off

“Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.” Dean says, trying to comfort her, and his eyes meet y/n’s for a second. She turns her head and sees Lucas leaving the bench and heading for the group.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish…” she stops short when Lucas walks up, carrying a picture. “Hey sweetie.” But Lucas doesn’t look at her, instead he hands Dean a picture.

“Thanks” Dean looks over and y/n and Sam, then back to Lucas. “Thanks, Lucas.” It's a picture of a house, and the boy heads back to the bench.

Inside the motel room again, y/n is crossed leg sitting on a bed cleaning up guns and Dean on the edge of the same bed putting the clean parts together again when Sam opens the door and comes in, making the other two look at him. “So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.”

“What do you mean?” the girl asks him. He sits next to them.

“I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

“He drowned?” Dean frowns

“Yep. In the sink.” Sam explains making y/n widen her eyes.

“What the hell?” she asks shifting in the bed “So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” she shakes her head looking at the youngest.

“Yeah, but what?” he turns his body to her who gets up and starts pacing in front of the bed.

“I don’t know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water…” Dean tries to elaborate. After a short pause realization hits Sam and y/n at the same time Dean continues “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” “Yeah.” the girl and Sam say at the same time. “Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months.” Sam finishes his trail of thought

“Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.” y/n looks at both the men sitting in front of her. “And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” 

Dean stands up. “This is gonna happen again” he goes to the chair close to the door and sits down to put his shoes on. “soon.” Y/n gets closer to him and he hands her one of her boots between putting his on.

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.” Sam says, looking at them.

“Yeah, it took both his kids.” Dean hands y/n her other boot and goes back to the bed to grab the gun they were cleaning.

“And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris—Bill Carlton's godson.” he follows his older brother with his eyes.

“Alright. Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.” y/n grabs the door handle and looks back at them. They head to the Impala and get on.

Arriving at the lake they head to the dock, where Bill is sitting with his back to them. “Mr. Carlton?” y/n says softly. The older man looks up. 

“We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.” Sam asks tilting his head

“We're from the, the Department—” Dean starts but Bill cuts him off.

“I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today.” he looks back at the lake, looking tired.

“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” y/n tries looking at the man with a worried expression, Dean looks over at her.

“Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death… we think there might be a connection to you or your family.” Sam continues

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please.” Bill says, choking on the words.

The trio respect the man and head back to the car, knowing they won’t be able to get much from him.

“What do you think?” Sam looks back at the other two.

“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell.” She says looking in the distance to the man sitting on the lake “I also think he's not telling us something.” she turns back to them

“So now what?” He leans on the Impala.

Dean passes his hands through his hair turning around and goes still facing the Carlton house.

“What is it?” the girl asks him.

“Huh.” he tilts his head and pulls something from his back pocket. “Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something.” He unfolds a piece of paper and shows her the picture Lucas brought him at the park. The Carlton house is drawn. Dean looks at her when she turns to examine the house and Sam comes over to see the drawing.

“Okay then. To Andrea’s house.” she looks back at him and meets his eyes. After a couple of seconds she turns and heads to the car. The two men follow her to their respective seats.

On the way to Andrea’s house, the boys dropped y/n back at the motel. She went into their room and sat at the small table on the corner opening up the laptop to do some research. She typed and while the page loaded she grabbed one of her packages of chocolate chip cookies to snack on. She struggled a little to focus on the articles about post-traumatic stress on children that popped up, skimming through the abstracts that were showing and opening some every now and then.

“What is happening to you?” she asks out loud thinking about Lucas, what he's been through, and what he was, still, experiencing with his drawings. She thought about what she went through when she lost her parents for that nest of vampires when John saved her. She though about how she could always talk to Dean and Sam about everything, including when the grief and sadness were suffocating, and how, Dean especially, understood a little what she was feeling.

The older man was always her rock, and she tried to be the same for him. She could always see how John left all the responsibility of Sam safety on his shoulders, and when she arrived in the small family he instantly took her safety in his own hands too, so she would do everything in her power to help him with Samand their chores. They both had to grow up so fast and not too long after he started trusting that she would everything to protect Sam from harm's way and from the truth.

When her phone rang and Sam’s name flashed on the screen, pulling her out of her thoughts about the man that was the main character in her thoughts for so long and the family she found after losing her own.

“Shoot, Sammy.” she says after answering the call.

“I already told you two. Sammy is 12. It’s Sam now.” he retorts and girl can picture the younger man rolling his eyes.

“Dream on, Sammy.” She smiles “Did you already leave Andrea’s?”

Sam sighs “Yeah, so Lucas gave Dean another drawing.” 

“The kid draw another house.” y/n heard the other brother’s voice in the distance. “Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.” 

“I was doing some research.” she gets up and goes to her boots to put them on “There are cases… going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions,” she puts the phone between her shoulder and her ear, putting her right boot on “psychic tendencies.”

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns.” Dean’s voice sounds anxious.

“All right, we got another house to find.” Sam says into the phone and describes the drawing to her “He drew a yellow house with a red bike in the front. With a white tall church by the side.”

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone.” Dean replies quickly

“Yeah, but see this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Okay, yellow house, red bike and tall white church, right?” y/n jumps into the conversation again but doesn’t wait for an answer “I’m leaving the motel going north, whoever finds it first calls the other. Bye.” and she hangs up, not wasting any more time.

After some 30 minutes driving her Harley, looking for the house Sam described her phone rings with a message.

Found it, come find us.

And another one with an address followed. She asked the woman that had just passed her the directions and headed the way the latter pointed.

She spotted Sam and Dean approaching a white church while Dean held up a drawing and looked at it. Dismounting the bike, she whistled making the two brothers turn to look at her. After catching up to them she holds her hand to Dean grabbing the picture he hands her. And the church is exactly the same.

“Nice job!” She smiles at him, looking at Sam before heading to the house with the two following her. Sam knocks at the door and a elderly woman opens up.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we’re with the newspaper, writing a story about local kids. Does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.” Dean asks the oddly specific question.

“No, sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” the lady knits her eyebrows at the trio, and after a pause goes back inside leaving the door open and they follow her. There’s a picture of a little boy on the table by the entrance. “The police never… I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” She stops at the living room and turns back to them. 

Y/n takes a look at the room and nudes Dean showing the toy soldiers on the coffee table. “Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.”

They all glance at each other remembering Bill’s words from earlier.

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” Sam asks the older lady.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” she answers

Dean walks over to a wall and picks a picture off the mirror. There are two boys in the picture, one with a bicycle. He shows the back of the picture, that reads: Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy.

They thank the woman and head straight to Bill Carlton’s house. Inside the Impala y/n reassess the basic points. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean says sternly.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.” Sam half ignores his brother

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?” Y/n looks through the rear view mirror to Sam

“What if Bill killed him?” He answers her question with another question

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean states making a turn.

Arriving at the Carlton house, Dean pulls up. The trio go to the house but stop short hearing an engine on the back. Turning around they see Bill Carlton going out on the lake in his boat. They start running to the end of the dock, yelling at the same time.

“Mr. Carlton! You need to come back!” “Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!” “Mr. Carlton!” But Bill ignores them and keeps going. The water rises up and flips the boat over. And both the man and the boat vanish, making the three stop. 

They head straight to the police station, needing to talk to the sheriff. Inside Lucas is sitting in a chair, rocking back and forth. Andre is sitting next to him, holding a paper bag and a plastic container in one hand and letting the other hand rest on her son’s back. When the two brothers and the girl entered the stations she looks over

“Sam, Dean, y/n.” she stands up leaving the container and bag on her chair “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“So now you're on a first-name basis. What are you doing here?” the sheriff comes from his office.

“I brought you dinner.”  Andrea turns and grabs the container handing it to her father.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” he says taking the container anyway.

“I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?” she says, lowering her voice.

“Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.” he looks from his daughter to his grandson with worry in his eyes.

Lucas looks up and whines, looking stricken; he jumps up and grabs Dean's arm. “Lucas, hey, what is it?” he tries to hold the boy’s hands “Lucas.” his mother goes and tries to pull him from Dean but his hold is tight “Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay.” 

Andrea manages to pull Lucas away from Dean and leads him outside. The boy doesn't look away from Dean. Jake throws down his jacket and goes into his office. The three hunters follow. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

Dean glances between Sam and y/n. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” y/n opens her mouth surprised but doesn’t say anything. “That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you two.”

“See, now, we can explain that.” Dean starts but Jake raises one hand.

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.”

“Door number two sounds good.” Sam says while y/n narrows her eyes

“That's the one I'd pick.” Jake answers and turns around. The trio leave.

They leave the station and head for the Impala. Dean begins driving, and y/n sees him trapped in his own thoughts. They go straight to the motel and start gathering their stuff. “I need a ride to go get the Harley.” Y/n gets out of the bathroom with a case that holds her toiletry things and looks at Dean.

“Sure, let’s go. We’ll be right back.” he says looking over his shoulder at Sam.

Once in the impala she turns her head to look at him. “You know, what Sam said yesterday yesterday. About you not liking kids. You have to know I can see right through that bullshit, right?” she smiles playfully at him.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” he replies but she can see the tiny smile trying to break his features.

“Yeah, right.” she turns back to the street and after a pause continues “I don’t like how this case ended. I don’t know…”

“I know. Me too.” he steals a glance at her “It just still feels weird.” he stops the car right by her bike and she gets off.

“Thanks” she mounts her bike and he follows her back to the motel. After loading everything on the vehicles the moon was already high on the sky and they took off. Getting to an intersection, Dean stops by a traffic light and y/n comes up to the drivers side and stops there. There’s a sign that says I-43 North to Milwaukee is to the left. When the light turns green after a few moments, and the car doesn’t move the biker honks at him “Green.” Y/n looks at Dean.

“What?” The man blinks and frowns at her.

“Light's green.” She repeats and points to the traffic light.

Dean starts driving and turns right. Y/n chuckles a little and follows him.

“Uh, the interstate is the other way.” Sam says looking at his brother.

“I know.” He replies 

“Dean, this job, I think it's over.” Sam’s eyebrows pull together trying to understand his brother.

“I'm not so sure.” He tells the youngest

“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean looks over at Sam quickly.

“But why would you think that?” Sam frowns confused.

“Because Lucas was really scared.” He tilts his head a little “Look, I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” He tells his brother, and steals a glance from the bike behind them.

“Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?” Sam asks, a playful tone in his voice.

Dean looks at Sam through his mirror again and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

When they arrive at the house Sam asks one more time as they walk to the door. “Are you sure about this?”

“It is pretty late, cherry pie.” Y/n looks him in the eye. He rings the doorbell. A heartbeat later, Lucas opens the door, desperately afraid.

“Lucas? Lucas!” He tries but the kid runs back inside with the three hunters following him.

Water is pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. Lucas starts pounding on the bathroom door. Dean pushes him over to y/n and kicks in the door. The boy grabs Dean, so Sam runs into the bathroom and sticks his arms in the tub, trying to pull Andrea, who’s submerged completely in a dark water, out. She is pulled back under, but y/n helps Sam pull until Andrea is all the way out. She starts coughing up water.

Y/n grabs a towel and covers the woman when she starts panting. Sam and Dean take Lucas to the living room and y/n helps Andrea up, holding her by her arms to steady her. They go to her room and the hunter looks at the woman one more time “You okay?” When she nods y/n turns and steps through the door, stopping in the hallway “I’m right here, alright?”

After a couple of minutes, Andre meets her in the hallway and they go to the living room, where the others are. “Honey!” Andrea goes and hugs Lucas, who was standing by Dean’s side. Y/n gets closer to the other two hunters looking between them. 

“What now?” she whispers, frowning. The two brothers look at her “We can’t leave them here. This thing is clearly still after something.” she continues. 

Andrea takes Lucas to another room to put him to bed. The hunters try to speculate on theories but can’t come up with much and after a while the mother comes back and sits down at the table sighing. Sam goes to sit by her side. Y/n and Dean look at each other and she asks the mother. “Do you mind if we take a look around?” she asks getting closer to the table and looking at Andrea.

“No, go ahead.” she looks up at the girl and answers. Dawn is breaking outside. 

“Can you tell me?” Sam looks at her when his brother and best friend start looking around the things on 

“No.” she shakes her head looking at her hands. The other two start  looking through notebooks on bookshelves “It doesn't make any sense.” the woman started crying “I'm going crazy.” She puts her face in her hands.

“No, you're not. Tell me what happened. Everything.” Sam reassures her

“I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice.” she starts unsure.

“What did it say?” he asks, curiously. Y/n taps Dean and shows him some scrapbooks on the side.

“It said...it said 'come play with me'.” she sobs “What's happening?”

Dean pulls out a scrapbook that says "Jake – 12 years old" and opens it, flipping pages while she looks at it with him. When he turns the page she spots a lot of kids and points at it. He closes it again and they go to Sam and Andrea; he puts the book down in front of the woman, open to the picture of the boys. 

“Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” he asks her.

“What? Um, um, no.” she looks quickly through the page “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” she shows one of the kids in the corner. Moving her finger over to another picture of Jake as a child, one where; he is standing next to Peter. Dean looks at the other hunters.

“Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.” he states.

“Bill and the sheriff… they were both involved with Peter.” y/n points out.

“What about Chris? My dad… what are you talking about?” the woman looks concerned.

Dean looks sideways and spots Lucas in his pajamas looking out the window. “Lucas?” he turns around to look at the boy and so does the rest. “Lucas, what is it?” the boy opens the door and walks outside. Everyone follows.

“Lucas, honey?” Andrea tries to get his attention but the boy only stops after a couple of seconds. He then stops and looks at the ground, then at Dean.

“You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?” Andrea pulls Lucas back to the house. Sam goes back to the impala and fetches some shovels from the Impala, before they start digging. Y/n's shovel clanks against something. They dig with their hands.

“Peter's bike.” the girl says when Dean pulls out a red bicycle form the ground.

“Who are you?” they hear a voice and turn around to find Jake, pointing a gun a them.

“Put the gun down, Jake.” Sam says carefully. Dea drops the bicycle.

“How did you know that was there?” he asks eyeing the bike on the floor.

“What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?” Dean starts narrowing his eyes.

“You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.” Y/n tells him when Andrea starts coming in their direction.

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” he looks between the two and shifts the gun in her direction. Dean takes a tiny step in her direction.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago.” Dean accuses the sheriff “That's what the hell I'm talking about.” he says when Andrea gets to them.

“Dad!” she exclaims.

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit.” Dean finishes his train of thought.

“It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them.” y/n tries to explain to the man. “And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does.” 

“Yeah, and how do you know that?” he narrows his eyes and tilts his head.

“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton.” Sam tells him and he looks back at the youngest.

“Listen to yourselves. All of you. You're insane.” he looks exasperated.

“I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us.” Dean starts and and y/n hear the annoyance in his voice.

“And if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust.” she explains trying to give Dean time to calm down.

But Dean didn’t chill and started again “Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” 

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea looks at her dad worried.

“No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.” he doesn’t take his eyes off of the hunters.

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.” she comes closer to the older man and Jake finally looks at her “Tell me you… you didn't kill anyone.” Jake looks away and doesn't answer “Oh my God.” she turns around.

“Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” he explains looking between the hunters and his daughter. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

“All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.” Dean starts and y/n looks at the lake, spotting Lucas going down to the lake. She gasps and starts running.

“Lucas!” she yells. They all run up to the dock. Lucas is leaning over the side, reaching for a toy soldier in the water.

“Come play with me.” a voice of a little boy echoes through the lake.

“Lucas!” Dean exclaims when he comes closer to y/n.

“Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!” Andrea tries yelling. Then Lucas gets pulled into the water.  Y/n reaches the edge of the lake and jumps in the water. Jake stops when he sees Peter’s head visible above the water. Dean and Sam keep running to the end of the dock and dive in after y/n. “Oh my God!” She takes off her jacket to jump in.

“Andrea, stay there!” Sam tells her when he sees her preparing to dive. Y/n comes up again to catch some air and goes under again. Andrea prepares to argue but Sam continues “We'll get him! Just stay on the dock!” Sam dives under again. Dean comes up. A minute later, so do the other two.

“Sam?” the woman asks and he shakes his head. “Dean?” he does too looking around the water.

“Lucas, where are you?” Andrea asks desperate while Jake takes off his jacket as the other three dive back down. Jake wades in and Andrea looks over.

“Peter, if you can hear me...please, Peter, I'm sorry. I'm so… I'm so sorry.” He starts looking at the water as he goes in.

“Daddy, no!” Andrea screams at him.

“Peter. Lucas… he's, he's just a little boy. Please, it's not his fault, it's mine. Please take me.” the older man cries. Y/n, Dean and Sam come up for air again.

“Jake, no!” Dean yells at the man entering the water. Peter surfaces.

“Just let it be over!” he begs the little boy and Jake is dragged down.

“Daddy! Daddy! No!” Andrea yells and the trio dive down again. “No!” Sam comes up shaking his head and Andrea mouths another 'no!'

Dean comes up, holding Lucas, who isn't moving. Y/n comes up after a minute and looks at Lucas in Dean’s arms. 

The three hunters leave the motel room that they went back to take a shower. Dean opens the car door and Sam tosses a duffel in. 

“Look, we're not gonna save everybody.” Sam tells them when he sees both their expressions

“I know.” “Yeah.” they answer.

“Sam, Dean, y/n.” They turn around and spot Andrea walking up with Lucas.

“Hey.” the trio says to them.

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road.” She tells them and Lucas is carrying a tray of sandwiches and hands them it. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asks his mother and the hunters widen their eyes.

“Of course.” Andrea smiles and kisses the boy’s head.

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” he says taking the boy back to the impala.

“How you holding up?” y/n ask Andrea, still looking at the two.

“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?” she answers looking at the girl’s profile.

Y/n nods, looks at her and gives a tight smile resting a hand on her elbow before turning and heading to the Harley to put her bag on the back seat. Sam sighs. “Andrea, I'm sorry.” he tells them and she shakes her head.

“You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.” she says going to the car with Sam. 

They hear Dean talking to Lucas when they get close “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”

“Zeppelin rules!” the boy say, and his mom smiles.

“That's right. Up high.” Dean holds his hand up for a high-five and the boy obliges, grinning. “You take care of your mom, okay?”

“All right.” the boy says looking at his mom and y/n turns and leans against her bike.

Andrea goes closer and kisses Dean. Y/n’s stomach drops, but she holds her stance. “Thank you.”

Dean’s expression is stunned, he thinks a minute, then scratches his head and goes around the car stealing a glance at y/n’s direction, who’s already mounted on her bike looking at the display. He can see her sighing.

“Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.” he tells his little brother and gets in the car, followed by Sam. They start the engine and follow the Harley that’s already leaving honking when she passes the mom and son. Sam and Dean smile at Andrea and Lucas waving goodbye. They all drive away.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added or removed.

@stillhere197 @lmhf1 @un-expectedly

[phantom-nisnow]

NARRATIVE STORYTELLING + COMPOSITION

First thing I always think of before doing ANY drawing is: what’s the story I want to tell? What’s the mood/emotion it should give off? 

For The Visionary, I wanted to capture that feeling of seeing your hard work and creations finally come to life. It’s that satisfaction as artists, engineers, and creators we feel after seeing our hard work finally bear the fruits of our labor. It’s an exhilarating feeling and we feel a sense of pride. 

I can pick out some key words from those descriptions: pride, excitement, satisfaction. Now, how do I depict that in the illustration + what compositional tools can reinforce that feeling and therefore story?

I also knew I wanted to draw my character, Kala. To reinforce the feeling, I wanted to think of his action and, in general, what he would be thinking in the illustration. I did a few thumbnails like below and figured to have him writing in his book and depicting boats in the background, almost like he’s drawing them at the moment and they’re appearing in the background.

Action: writing in his journal, almost as if making the background come to life -> gives a sense of pride and excitement.

This forms the basis of my composition. Everything from here on out (every decision in the illustration) relates back to this.

When thinking of your own illustrations and what you want your characters to do, try this simple template (do this for each of your characters in the scene):

<character> <action> -> gives <mood/emotion> e.g. The rogue flees from the castle guards -> gives a sense of urgency. A witch backs away from her cauldron -> gives a sense of fear.

Kala’s placement is important as well. I purposely made him stand on one of the fourths of the canvas at the far left to make him feel almost like one of the boats (one of his creations). You know those scenes in pirate movies (or even just Navia Genshin Impact) where the character stands next to all their soldiers or a series of cannons? Yeah, I wanted to do something similar here.

After thumbnailing, I’ll start refining the drawing and getting the structure right before doing anything else. Often, I’ll take reference photos like this and put them together in Photoshop. This helps not only get more accurate drawings but you can even put yourself in the shoes of your character. Imagine how they’re feeling in your illustration and act it out. Your pose—and therefore, your character’s pose—might change depending on how you do it which can help with your drawing.

The boats get lighter in value as they recede to the background. I fix this later on in the composition, but since Kala is the focus, I had to make sure that he had the greatest amount of contrast. So I put a hint of light near his face so that his silhouette would pop well against the darker boat behind him. I later enforce this contrast through differences in color saturation which I will show soon. 

I felt the boats weren’t grand enough + the mast shapes were too busy, and therefore didn’t support the story as strongly as I wanted to. And to further add contrast + give Kala more focus, I made the boats a bit larger, drawing them more from a low angle to further emphasize their grandiosity and the pride Kala feels in his work. It’s great when something works both compositionally well and enforces the story:

General lines of action of objects for flow. The boats specifically are all angled differently, converging towards Kala, to draw the eye towards him more + not feel static. It creates a sweeping motion to draw the eye towards him, along with the placement of papers and the shape of his coat further adding to the flow. 

In general, you can strategically place objects in your drawing to follow certain lines of flow that go back to your focus. This helps guide your viewer around your piece while also giving a sense of motion and energy.

Every artistic decision you make should reinforce the story in some way. Even the tiniest things like the line art style. This idea came after looking through the Across the Spiderverse concept art book, specifically reading about the art style choices of Nueva York. Constructional lines and architectural diagrams are seen throughout the city and I wanted to bring a bit of that into this piece. 

It further enforces the idea that Kala is creating the background behind him while also making the boats recede into the background due to atmospheric perspective. Depth of field is determined by how refined the boat’s sketch is, so the boat furthest away is still in pure constructional lines while the one closest to him is fully rendered. I thought that was a big brain idea and I’m glad I went with it >:)

To add a bit of texture, I added a grid pattern off in the distance to help with the feeling of the background being drawn in. I also added sketches of engineering diagrams into Kala’s blue coat for a bit of visual interest. These further add to the fact my character is an engineer and is almost drawing the background himself. Plus, it just looks cool.

Quick breakdown of some visual choices + how they show the story: 

large value range: the values go from very dark to very light -> deeper contrast gives sense of drama and overall intensity to the image -> reinforces feelings of epicness

strong warm vs. cool color contrast: shows the sunrise lighting, gives the character more focus (red is a very intense color) -> gives of sense of pride

sketch-y depth of field: objects further away have a more sketch-y, drawn look -> helps with atmospheric perspective and shows that the character is an engineer. contrast with more refined foreground and character.

character pose: Kala is standing tall while also writing in his journal with a very satisfied look -> 

flowing papers in the foreground: intentionally placed to aid in the overall flow of the piece -> also enforces the idea that the character in question is very experienced + shows his hard work to get to where he is now

These are all my personal choices for the illustration based on my own experiences and intentions. But every choice, from the character pose, the value range, or whatnot was intentionally done to support the story I wanted to tell in the piece. You or another artist may have different choices given the same prompt, and that’s cool! It’s these kinds of intentional choices based on one’s own experience and emotions that make art awesome and inherently human.

Let me know if you like posts like this and I’ll do more, breaking down the process and my thinking in some of my other pieces!

[chiefdirector]

Looking | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21

“Sargent Grey,” Lopez called, trying to catch up with the watch commander, “I had a look at the footage from the main lobby. No I.D. Just seemed like some kid doing an errand, paper boy maybe.”

He stopped in the corridor, brushing his hand over his face in frustration. “Right, okay. Go tell Detective Bradford, liaise with her. See if you can help in any way.”

“Already have. She said that she’s on the phone with a handwriting analysis. Run it through the database and records corresponding to anyone with the initials R.D.”

“That’ll take forever,” 

Angela hummed. “Not exactly. This analysis guy said the writing was female. Already cuts the search in half. It was also in cursive, so we can make the initial assumption that the sender has some form of formal education, if not they are highly intelligent. That’s not too many ‘R.D’’s left to determine. (Y/N)’s also sent it out for prints, see if we can get a hit that way.”

“Good work Lopez,” Grey said, starting to move towards his office again. “Let me know if you find anything. And tell Detective Bradford to stop leaving her damn coffee cups in my office.”

Angela laughed, turning to go back to the detective's bullpen. “Yes, sir.”

----------

Tim and Lucy go back to his house to try to find the location of the picture taker. And any info. Lucy questions tim on their relationship 

Lucy looked intently out of the shop window as Tim drove towards his home. He had been so strict on keeping his personal life out of his professional one, but there was something about this boot in particular that seemed to worm her way in everytime. There was something about Chen that made Tim feel comfortable sharing details, no matter how minute they were. Perhaps it was her forever optimistic nature, or the fact that if it weren’t for her, he probably never would have found (Y/N).

 At one point, he had thought about thanking her but he also knew that Chen was well aware of his gratefulness; and that she would never let him live it down if he did thank her. She was like him in that way, he saw a lot of himself in her. Tim knew that she would go far, she just needed a little guidance to get there.

“So this is where you live, hm?” Chen said, breaking the silence that had resided in the shop for the last ten minutes. “Nice neighbourhood. Seems a little out of a cops price range though…”

“Are you really judging my financial status right now, boot?” Tim snapped, although the sting in his voice was barely there. She was right, it was far too pricey for his, or (Y/N)’s, salary. Even if they were combined they would have no chance of getting a mortgage for this area of L.A. 

“No, no. It’s just that this area is nice. Like nice nice. Not Kardashian nice but like you know.”

“Someone was murdered in our house, three actually.” Tim smiled, deciding to ease up on Chen somewhat, afterall, he knew that Lucy would ask his wife and (Y/N) never spared any detail in this particular story. “We both worked the scene together. Managed to get the price lowered somewhat. Only had to change the floorboards and get a couple drywall boards replaced. Drenched in blood.”

Lucy swallowed at the information, nodding along. She turned to look out at the surroundings again as Tim pulled over to the side of the road. “All these houses have a driveway?” She pointed out.”

“And?” He said, turning the engine off and getting out of the car. Slamming the door behind him, he opened his phone, pulling up the copy of the photo (Y/N) had sent him and moving to the approximate place the photo was taken. 

He ended up halfway into his neighbour’s front lawn. The exact spot would have been covered by shrubbery lining the edge of the grass, it would explain why they didn’t catch a glimpse of their paparazzo this morning. 

“Chen,” Tim moved from his position on his neighbour’s lawn crossing the road towards his home. Calling back towards Chen as he moved, knowing that she would be following him, “Come on, we’re going inside. I need to call Grey, let him know that there’s nothing here.”

“Inside? Like inside your home? I get to see where you live.” Lucy babbled on with excitement. If someone had told her on her first day that she would be invited into Officer Bradford’s home, she would have laughed in their face. “Oh my god. I get to see how you decorate, this is so cool! I need to tell Jackson.”

“I can leave you outside if you carry on.” Tim unlocked the door, letting himself in. He held it from the inside letting Chen make her choice. 

“Shutting up.”

----------

(Y/N) hung the phone up, moving to continue typing up the current additions to the case report. Her fingers practically slammed into the keys as she typed, annoyance flowing through her. Since she left Grey’s office, she had gotten nowhere. No matter who she called, nobody seemed to know anything about who was after her. 

It was infuriating, to be so powerless. Knowing that her life hung in The hands of some mad man that she didn’t even know the name of would cause most anyone to spiral but she knew that she couldn’t afford to lose focus now, not after how far she had come. 

Holding back a sigh, she saved the file and reached for her phone. Quickly, she pressed Tim’s contact and held it up to her ear, listening as it rang and rang and rang until she reached his voicemail. She hung up before she could leave a message and went back to typing. Only stopping when she heard something placed down beside her. 

“Your coffee.” 

(Y/N) looked up, seeing Chen standing beside her. She smiled, picking up the travel mug and taking a sip. 

“Tim asked me to drop it off. He made it when we went to see if there was anything to see back at your place.” Chen leaned against the desk to the right hand side of (Y/N)’s. “He also said to tell you that his phone was nearly dead. He’s charging it now.”

“Ah okay cool.” (Y/N) took another sip, relishing in the warm vanilla taste. Tim always made the coffee in the mornings, recently he had begun making her lattes with flavoured syrups. Vanilla was her favourite, despite how often Tim said it was the most basic option. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, actually. There is. I wanted to ask you something…”

“Shoot.” 

“I want to do some UC work after my rookie year. I think that’s where I could really thrive and I wanted to know…”

(Y/N) nodded, finishing Chen’s sentence. “If it would be a good fit. Well as someone who has done it, I think it takes a certain kind of person to be able to do it. Personally, I would never do any more long term assignments. I don’t think I’m that person anymore. I lost everything, and I’m still fighting to get it back.” She sighed, placing her coffee down on the desk. 

(Y/N) gestured for Chen to pull up a chair before she continued. “Obviously you’re still a rookie, and I haven’t seen much of you in action. You have got some way to go. But you have that spark and if it’s what you want, I could see if I could take you one day. Show you the ropes, go through some old cases of mine. Let you get the feel for it.”

“Really? That would be great.” Lucy beamed at Bradford’s words. 

“But you will have to consider if it will be worth it. Look at the mess we’re all in because of me. If I hadn’t gone on that assignment than-”

“Then it would be someone else that Regina would have gotten revenge on.” Tim interrupted, walking over to the two women. He quickly reached for the coffee on the desk, not allowing (Y/N) the time to slap his hand away before he got a sip. “But the theory was right. It definitely wasn’t Regina.”

(Y/N) looked up inquisitively at her husband as he spoke. 

“The handwriting analyst made a match throughout the system. I don’t know who but Lopez is getting the report now. She’ll be here soon. Grey wants us all in the conference room.”

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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[a-sentient-horax]

G/T Headcannons

So much of G/T is science-adjacent just because of the nature of the trope. But this got me thinking about like, G/T in the setting of science academia.

A scientist and an engineer who have a years-long dispute about whether it's possible or not to change someone's size. The scientist swears up and down that they have worked out the math and theories and it just is absolutely not possible. Meanwhile, the engineer is certain that they are close to a solution. One night, perhaps long after they stopped working together, the scientist wakes from their sleep to their roof being ripped off above them. "I fucking told you!" The now gigantic engineer gloats down at them.

Bonus if the scientist is so blinded by disbelief of their math failure that they aren't even afraid. They place their tiny hands on their hips and raise their chin up to stare right into the giant's eyes. "You had to have used a different theory. Did you make the room-temperature superconductor? Do you have any idea how vast the implications of that are? And you used it to do THIS to yourself? Are you working with [another scientist whose theories they disagree with]?"

A scientist who turned themselves giant and had a falling out with their partner who works in the same field as they do. One of them didn't include the other in a hugely impactful research paper, ending in a blowout fight. Now they both go to the same conferences and have to awkwardly avoid each other.

Additionally, one could approach the other sheepishly to ask for help on a new project. It could work both ways, a giant peering down angrily at a tiny human, or a defensive human crossing their arms and getting terse with their giant ex. "What, do you need to steal more of my ideas?"

A sizeshifter who tries to slyly shrink down to retrieve a fallen piece of lab equipment. They are caught by a coworker but instead of freaking out about their size their coworker panics about how this does NOT adhere to lab safety standards, demanding to know how many times they have done this.

A sizeshifter who pulls an all-nighter in the lab, not realizing that their frustration with not getting good results has made them gradually grow all night. The first person to come into the lab in the morning is greeted with the sight of their coworker poring over reams of printed data, towering over the equipment, and trying to rub exhaustion out of their eyes. (Queue the 'dropping the coffee cup in surprise' scene.)

A giant scientist who is at the cutting edge of their field, when a human intern starts on their research project and realizes very quickly that they have (for now) unrequited feelings for this giant. The scientist's huge form looms over the intern's workstation, casting a huge shadow. They squint their eyes at the schematics on the table. Bending over slightly, their large arm lightly brushes the human's shoulder as they point to an equation. "Is this doubling every time?" "D-doubling? I-" "If it is doubling, it should be natural log two, not log two." The giant lowers their head. Their annoyed face only a few inches from the human's. The human is blushing deeply, inhaling the smell of the giant's sweet breath. "It-d-er...doubling. Doubles." The giant's face remains unamused and annoyed. Despite their impatience, they make the effort to whisper gently, to not blow out the human's ear drums. "Then why did you write log two? Fix it."

The lead scientist and lead engineer on a project are always squabbling. In an accident, one of them gets shrunk down or grows to a large new size. Now their disagreements take place with the smaller one on some form of scaffolding, waving sheets of complex equations in the air while the other crosses their arms and shakes their head.

Two young scientists get passed over and are not included in the credits of a research paper, despite their extensive work. They go to confront the senior researcher, when one suddenly doubles, or triples in size and pins the senior researcher down, demanding credit for both of them. Their tiny friend is caught in a mix of horror and amazement as they realize that their friend could just as easily pin them down like that.

"Well, aren't you just soooo smart Mr. Giant Shithead." "That's Dr. Giant Shithead to you."