#Greasy Weasel x Reader

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

I'm not really back, I just had this and thought I'd just go and post it.

Plot: I saw this thing on Pinterest (Picture below) and I just had to write this XD Basically, you’re super bored so when the bastard that constantly hits on you turns up, you figure ‘Why not mess with them a little?’ and accidentally bite off more than you can chew.

Includes: The Pervy Bunch! (I hope Pervy Villains anon likes this!! ^^ ) So Beetlejuice, Chucky Lee Ray, Freddy Krueger, Greasy Weasel, Hades, and Offenderman.

Warnings: Dubious consent, a little assault and lotsa sexual references but no actual smut. Also I tried to convey that you do actually want them- you just don’t want to admit it cuz they’re gross and evil- but I’m not sure it came through 😅

You know what I have noticed about the Pervert group? An unsettling amount of them have powers that allow them to just pop up near you, which is just great-

Also *eye twitches* I have watched Hercules more times than any other movie, and I still feel like I can’t write Hades for shit! I am about to Blacklist his blueberry ass.

Beetlejuice:

“Ohh, you just made a grAVE mistake, baby… “  

“What!?” You shriek, feeling him pop up next to you and curl a long, winding arm over your shoulders. When the hand attached tries to be funny and grab something lower then necessary, your eyes widen to the size of plates and throw it off you entirely. “No- I- “You’re backing up fast, but not fast enough it seems as BJ grabs you again.

This time his dirty hands enclose around your upper arms and he holds you so that the two of you are chest to chest. You try to shove him away, but only end up in an even more precarious position with your hands - fists, - on his chest, and promptly give up. Fighting is just making it worse, you think, rolling your eyes up to the sky and attempting only to move your head so that your face as far away from his humanly possible.

“I gotta hand it to you, doll, you know how to get a guy’s engine roarin’,” Beetlejuice growls out, and also takes that opportunity to press his already-engorged – honestly you would not be surprised, if he just saw you and suddenly ZING!! it went up, - groin up into yours whilst making a vroom sound. Your jaw drops practically to the ground with a gasp, and you give yet another struggle despite giving up, wanting desperately for your elbow to make its way directly into his nose, but he easily holds you still. “Baby- Baby!! You know I like it rough, but let’s try not to damage the goods, K??”

“Oh, damage?? Damage, you say?? I’ll show you damage!!- “You attempt to left your leg and knee him in the privates that so unpleasantly grinded into yours a moment ago but he steps on your foot! Then his shoelaces unfurl and twist under the souls of your own and tie you both together; Making it impossible for you to move without him. “You- “Out of frustration, you kick your leg out anyway, hoping it’ll cause him some kind of pain or discomfort.

“Come on baby,” He lets go of your arms in favour to grab at your waist, and pulls you taught against him. You, on the other hand, let out a groan from frustration and with nowhere else to comfortably leave your arms, you lay them up over his shoulders. The action causes him to smirk, and you roll your eyes heavily. He’s so gross, you do NOT enjoy this- “I wanna do bad things to you. Give in with me.”

“No way. Filthy corpse men aren’t really my thing.”

“Not according to what you just told me, sweetheart~ “Your eyes narrow at him, but before you can slap a hand over his dirty mouth- he’s mimicking you with total and embarrassing accuracy. “It’s too bad you’re such a creep, BJ~ Otherwise I mighta- “

“Okay okay okay!” A little too late, but even so- one of your hands seals his mouth tightly shut. Your whole body feels hot, now, and you choose to believe its from embarrassment. “We don’t need a recap.”

“Otherwise, I mighta fucked you~~ “

Ughhh, you forgot he could throw his voice. Fuck him. Fuck the bastard.

But not in that way!

So you take your hand away from his mouth, as you’re becoming increasingly afraid that he’ll lick it soon. “I did not sound that slutty… “

“No, you’re right. You only sound like THAT in my fantasies.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me.”

“Why tell you when I can show ya, huh?” A hand, feeling almost like some kind of creepy crawly, slides down the sides of your body, but with one hostile glare from you he stops short of your ass. Thank god-

“You are disgusting.”

“And it’s kinda hot, right?”

“No!”

“Yes, BJ, you’re so sexy~- “

“Ugh!” He’s mimicking you again! Its so annoying!

So, naturally, you kiss him.

That turns into making-out at a world record speed, and then you’re on the nearest couch grinding back up into him totally on your own accord, and you refuse to think about anything you were just saying. This feels good, this feels like you’ve been waiting forever for it- So, you’ll deal with hating yourself later.   

Human!Chucky Lee Ray:

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, hearing your words- feeling how you’re looking at him- seeing your walk over- before a gross smirk spreads slowly across his face. “Really?~ “

“Wh- “One glance at him shows that he did not at all get that you were just fucking around, and a snort escapes you. “No. Of course not. I’m just bored- so go home, nothing’s happening here. Ever.”

Chucky does not let it go immediately. Instead, his cold eyes are gazing at you with the heat of the sun, still. “Ever… ?”

“Yes, ever.” You say sternly, and quickly- leaving no room for hesitation.

“You sound pretty damn sure of that, toots.” Hands enveloped in his coat pockets, a look that does not make him any less threatening, he takes a casual step towards you. Your body reacts powerfully to the action, the possibility of what might come of it- but you’re a groan adult and keep it to yourself. You know who you should and shouldn’t want, and Charles Lee Ray most certainly belongs in the second group. “But,” He takes another step and now he’s looking down at you, stupid messy hair forming a dark halo around his pale face. “You also sounded pretty sure a moment ago, when you hit on me? I’m confused~ “

“Well let me clear it up for you,” Setting your hands on your hips, you force yourself to glare back into his intimidatingly icy blue eyes and enunciate. “I’m not interested in creepy bums.”

First, his mouth twitches but he manages to hold himself together- But then he all-out laughs, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning backwards. Meanwhile you’re totally taken aback, watching him have a fit over you insulting him. Is he a masochist or something?- “You… hehe… you’re- oh, fuck hold on a moment,” He continues to cackle for another minute, in which you feel that maybe you could just leave… Before, finally, he calms down; Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Ahhh, fucken bitch you don’t even know how wrong you are.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

He suddenly drags you the rest of the way to him, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his body. You gasp, and shove him once. “I’m not a bum, doll… I’m fucken crazy. I fucking murder people!”

Your eyes do a little look both ways before settling cautiously on Chucky again. “… My bad?”

“Look,” He starts, having sobered up again by this point. There’s a smirk on his face again that somehow turns you into some kind of Y/N based mush on the inside- even now, after a revelation like that. In fact your stupid feelings may have gotten worse. “Lemme propose somethin’ to ya, heh?”

“… O-kay… “

“Lemme take ya home.”

Ugh, for gods sake, does he ever give up? “No.”

“I’ll show ya how a real man fucks his doll~ “ God god god! This is too much! You’re trying to resist, you swear that you are, but he’s so close, holding you like he truly wants you, and now he’s saying shit like that!- “I betcha you haven’t been screwed right in a long time… Amiright? Only a real psycho can do that, trust me.”

“You’re so fucked up.”

“Exactly.”

At that, you tiredly gaze up at him and… consider.

Freddy Krueger:

A broken gasp flies out when your back hits a wall. Your eyes are wide looking up at the lecherous grin on Freddy’s face, that’s far too close to yours for comfort, and you specifically think- whoops. 

That may have been a miscalculation on my part, you think. It seems that Freddy does not, in fact, get that you were just bored. Or maybe he just doesn’t care-

Either way, you’re in deep water now.

Deep, deep water, you add staring back into terrible blue eyes.

Quickly you gather your wits, narrow your eyes and set your jaw at him. “… Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?~ “

“Whatever it is you’re thinking!” You exclaim, afraid to even wonder what it could be that he’s thinking for it would surely traumatise you. You don’t need to know, anyway; Its never happening. Now you just need to et out of this all-too-close situation, here-

“Oh- I’m sure I don’t know what you mean!” Oh, Drama King of the century is making a production of this- surprise, surprise. Groaning, you lean back onto the wall and wait for your cue; When Freddy’s acting like this, its best to just go with the flow. But when a sharp, rusty blade comes up between your faces, almost cutting you, you tense up again. “You’re the one that teased me, Princess.”

“I was bored- “You explain, bluntly, but the blade raise sup high near to your eyes and your gaze follows it instinctually- which he loves. He loves watching you keep an eye on the glove, just a hint of fear and also an odd arousal in your eyes as you both know full-well that if he wanted to hurt you, it would be too easy for him.

“Oh- I’m hurt!” The glove goes flat to his chest, now, and you let out a relieved breath as he makes like he’s offended.

“Well!... “ –Wait. Why should you sound apologetic?? “… Good?”

“Sweetheart, you wound me… Daddy’s gonna have to punish you for that.” Freddy informs, nodding his head, and gasp at the sudden turn-around.

“Like hell!”

A long, wooden ruler appears in his non-gloved hand and your jaw actually drops. Why in the world does he have THAT!? “Every time you swear, kitten, Daddy’s gonna have to punish you~ “

You don’t know whether you’re going run, or laugh, and its an odd sensation, culminating into a feeling almost like- Lust… “Please stop referring to yourself as ‘Daddy’, Freddy- “ And please, dear god, don’t call me ‘kitten’- Because yikes.

“Why…? “He asks, smirking, and you’re about to reply ‘because its gross- you’re gross’, but he leans in closer to you still and you forget what you were about to say. You cross your arms over your chest and flatten yourself against the wall better, too. You swear, if he gets any closer to your person, you’re going to explode. “Are ya getting… sssslippery??”

Okay- now you actually do laugh. A snort slips out of you and develops into cackles as you you’re your arms from their defensive position in order to cover your face, before you manage to just shake your head. “No!... No, I think I’m all dried up, actually… Like sandpaper.”

Freddy gives you a look, then, like he knows something you don’t. Yet again you watch him raise the glove, and using a couple blades that whine at the use, he gestures between the two of you. “… You and I both know that’s not true… don’t we now?”

“In your drea- Uhm,” Dear lord, that’s embarrassing, especially with how his eyes light up. “I mean… No. We know no such thing, no.”

“Wanna test?~ “ Gone is the giant ruler, then, leaving just his hand; Bare, and you notice that he’s got good fingers, and its- he’s- an enticing option in all honesty!-

But… But… Oh, fuck, you’re forgetting why this is a bad idea. He’s so close, and he’s making to so clear that all you have to do is stop saying no, so…

One more time- “Get out of my head.”

“Never. Its too much fun here.”

“Then… “Then, you’re out of strength. “Ugh. Just kiss me, then, Freddy.”

Greasy Weasel:

Good god, you’ve never seen Greasy smile like that. You’ve been kidnapped by these assholes a million and one times, it seems, and you’ve seen him in various stages of undress because he’s a whore but this?? This, is terrifying. He’s practically licking his chops at you.

“Oh cariño~ So glad to hear you finally giving in to me~ We have much to try together.”

Oh, god. Your face is totally hot, looking left and right and searching for an immediate exit. Wheezy! “Wheezy, don’t you- where are you going? Don’t you dare leave me alone in here with him!!”

“Who the hell am I to stand in the way of true love?” He doesn’t laugh as he leaves the room, but the cruel delight in his tone evident. Your jaw drops as the door falls shut behind him and you’re left alone with the sex-crazed weasel, furious, before turning back to Greasy- mouth still wide open. This is ridiculous!-

Backing off from him slowly, you raise your hands in defence. “… Greasy come on… I was joking, you know that right?- “ Desperately, you try to reason with him- knowing its no use as he stalks over to you.

“Close your mouth, beautiful one,” Gently, Greasy pushes your mouth shut and that just makes your face even hotter than before- unbearably hot actually- you need a bucket of ice right now. “You’ve already caught me.”

… Is he equating himself to a fly? Is that supposed to be a line?? Oh jesus christ he’s so dumb-

Then, because Greasy is not the type to let an opportunity like this go to waste, he kisses you for the very first time.

He presses his lips right onto yours; Kisses you deep, like he’s been waiting for this for a long damn time- which he has. Meanwhile all you can think is that he’s never been so close to you before, you can smell his horrible cologne and feel his warmth all over and you couldn’t explain what happened next if you wanted to. Because the next thing that happened was that you moaned. Almost like… you’ve been waiting for this a long damn time, too.

You moaned… at Greasy Weasel’s kiss. And you wanted to reach out and pull him closer, too! The feral monkey part of your brain wanted to push the bastard down onto the couch, wrap your legs around his waist and part your lips. Luckily you retained sense enough not to do that, at least. At least!

… But he still heard you moan for him.

And so when he pulls back theirs a shit eating grin on his face that you wish you know you’re going to regret not slapping later on, but right now you’re in shock. Are you crazy? You enjoyed that???

“So the truth comes out~ You want me too~ “

“No!- “

“Ah ah ah, cariño~ There’s no denying your own body~ “

“Oh yes I can!”

“C’mon… “

“Listen here, you will not do that again to me- “

“Sí, I will.”

“Greasy, I swear to GOD- “

Against your wishes, Greasy leans across and smothers your lips with his again and- yes- you could have pulled back; He wasn’t gripping you in anyway and you weren’t cornered.

But- you stood there anyway, rooted to the spot and kissed him back.

Hades:

“Oh… yeah?~ ”

“Kidding!” You snort, turning away from the God and making to walk off. “That’s never gonna happen. See you around, Hade- Oh crap! - “He materialises in front of you again and one look at his face tells you everything. He thinks he has a real shot with you now because you said that one little thing to him!

Oh, damn.

Raising your hands is surrender at Hades, you give a nervous grin. “Really, I was just teasing. I’m sorry. Now, I gotta go- “You try to swerve him again, but he just dissipates into smoke and then abruptly reappears in front of you once again.

“Ah ah ah, c’mon… Secrets out, babe, no need to play hard to get anymore.”

“I’m not playing hard-to-get, I’m playing Escape Room.” You snap quickly, turning to try it one last time… but there’s a tree in your way, of-fucking-course, and it makes you let out a frustrated groan. What!? WHAT!? A TREE? Really??? Sighing and slumping, you turn back to Hades, lolling your head back to look at him in expectancy. “… So, what’s next, then? You kidnap me off the Underworld and force pomegranates down my throat?”

The fire flickering atop his head crackles and a little grin quirks across your lips at his tell-tale tantrum indication. “I did not kidnap Demeter’s kid, that’s a myth. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not into the whole… incest fad, the rest of ‘em are.”

Making a disgusted face, all nose and a big frown, you reach over and give his shoulder a pat. “Well, good for you.”

“Though… I could take you whenever I like. See, up to this point Y/N I’ve been a gentleman.” Now, he slips away from you, gives you room to breath which you do- having not even realised you were holding it in the first place. Why would you??

“Oh? Coulda fooled me.”

“Aha,” The sound is without a hint of amusement at your words, and rather disdain- but Hades doesn’t get mad and he doesn’t turn around. Just goes on. “Anyway- the point is, I could.” The fire flickers up higher this time, making Hades’ excitement at the prospect evident. “But let me tell you, all that kidnapping business- its messy, and time consuming, and I’m a busy man. Besides, no need!” He turns around, and the smirk on his face makes a little fire burst in your insides. You try to ignore it, though, keeping your face straight. “You’ve just made it oh so obvious, babe, that you want me too.” You did what!? You merely flirted!- “So why fuck with the whole kidnapping plight?”

“Uh-… I-… “What do you even say to that? Its also becoming hard to think, under the heat of how he’s looking at you. This has happened before, of course, but all of a sudden you’re struggling to ignore it. “Hades, come on… “

Instead of responding this time, Hades just offers his hand to you. It’s a yes or no question, which should be easy to turn down, but you discover the shocking urge to say yes bubbling up inside you and hesitate.

… Do you really want to reject him?...

Offenderman:

“Hold on, hold on, hold ON! - “The words fly from your lips as soon as Offender turns to you fully, hands folded calmly in his pockets but a deeply amused grin on his face tells you everything that he’s thinking- loud and clear. Body hot under his heavy gaze, despite not having eyes at all, you wonder how on earth you can reign this situation back in… when there’s an acute possibility that you have just opened pandoras box. “… Um, ha… I was joking?”

“Sure… “Tentacles slide out from the little ripped holes in the back of his coat and slither around threateningly, making your eyes widen. You take a step back, more out of formality then real fear, eyeing the appendages hanging in the air prepared to strike at any given moment.

“I was!”

“No, I believe you.” He says, but you hear his tone and know that he’s lying; He doesn’t believe you at all. Offenderman thinks that you want him. Which is a very dangerous thing.

And its- of course, its- crazy! You don’t! No way. Never. No.

“… Okay… “

“Except- “Oh dear lord, here we go. You just fucking knew it. Why, oh why, did you have to be right?? Setting your jaw determinedly, you go to turn on Offender and continue down the hall to somewhere safe and not-so-alone with him, but he teleports in front of you- closer, this time. So he’s really craning his neck down to see you and you’re face-to-face with his chest. You heave a great sigh at the action, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. “We both know that’s not true… You can hate me all you like but that doesn’t change the fact you wanna fuck the shit outta me. Or have me fuck you; Either way.”

Ugh. Come on, now- “I don’t hate you. I’m disgusted by you.”

“Even better.” He grins, a perverted glee entering his smooth voice.

“And you’re wrong.” You go on contrarily. “The only thing I want from you is for you to leave me alone for once.”

For a blissful moment, Offender doesn’t say a damn word more so that you’re considering another escape attempt, because maybe he’s bored, before he then takes a final step into your personal space and lowers his voice. “… You know,” He purrs. “… We could go with your story, if that’s how it’s gotta be.”

Looking up at him then, you tilt your head to the side quizzically. “What?”

“I won’t tell a soul about this… all you have t’ do is disappear with me for a while. Everyone can keep thinking you have some kinda ‘supernatural resistance to me’, which you and I both know doesn’t fucken exist, and you still get six or seven orgasms from me. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Your mouth falls open. Six of s e v e n!? “N- “

Damnit it- he can tell you’re intrigued, and you know because his evil, sharp smile widens. “Maybe eight.” Oh, hell-

“Eight!?”

“Yeah, that should be enough.”

Oh, you hate yourself for asking, but- “Enough… for what?”

“Well that’s the point you mortals usually get so fucken dumb you can’t count anymore.”

Okay… your face feels like an oven now. “That’s… I… “And you’re tongue-tied now! Oh, fantastic…

“But… you gotta tell me you want it. Consent and all that- and besides… I wanna hear it. So c’mon.” You’re shaking you head, but no words escape your lips, because you’re afraid of what might come out if you try, but Offender’s backing you into a wall now and when your back bumps into the old dusty wallpaper Slender hasn’t bothered to update in 2 centuries he ends up so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his much larger frame against yours. God, you can hear your blood pumping loudly in your ears, and your brains feeling fuzzy, and you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the two of you are alone.

Which means- no witnesses. No one would know if you just… if you didn’t even say anything. You wouldn’t need to. Just nod, or reach out to him, or just drop to your knees even… Fuck.

“It’d be just between you and me, doll.”

#MultiVillains x Reader Drabbles #MultiVillains x Reader #Drabbles #MultiVillains #Offenderman #Creepypasta #Creepypasta x Reader #Disney Hades x Reader #Hades x Reader #Disney Villains x Reader #Greasy Weasel #Disney Hades #Greasy Weasel x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Chucky x Reader #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Horror Villains #Horror Villains x Reader #Disney Villains

[marinerainbow]

//Okay kind of extremely cursed but imagine Shiny letting Greasy undress/"investigate"/"frisk" an area which normally would be concealing a booby trap if you catch my drift 😅😂

And he braces himself waiting for the bear trap, mousetrap or any other comically large animal trap and when it doesn't come he gets really confused and she's chuckling like "You're kinda slow huh?" And he realises that she actually trusts him now! And he's so happy!

And no they definetly do not get carried away, toons being over-the-top and ridiculous don't be absurd 😉😂

@wicked1will0sparkles

This isn't just for Griny, but this is for Greasy with any S/O honestly! This is the ultimate show of trust to this toony pervert (and the best way to get his attention 😏 XD)

In Griny's case, yes. She would absolutely do that. I can see them getting ready for a party or they're going out, or Greasy just decided to visit her backstage before she did a number at her club. And she does the whole "Darling, can you zip me?" And just gives him time to figure it out on his own.

*kiiiiinda NSFW implications here? Nothing happens! I just can't post this ask without adding this*

She'll still keep doing this, no matter how long they've been dating. She'll especially do it if she's in a certain ~mood~, and she's trying to give Greasy a ~hint~

She'll still be a tease, of course; "Cariño, the zipper is supposed to go up~"

"I know~"

(Ok I better stop here before I get carried away, goodbye-)

#asks #going feral over this ask for real #Greasy Weasel #Toon Patrol #my own OC's #Shiny Weasel #OC x Canon #ships #Griny #reader insert #(gonna tag as such because i can see this happening not just with Griny) #wfrr #who framed roger rabbit #disney villains #disney

[ichorai]

reset me ; wade wilson.

track twelve of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; wade wilson (deadpool) x mutant!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; charles sends you to recruit deadpool into the x-men. expectedly, the bastard tries to weasel away from you—and when that doesn’t work, he resorts to his most lethal method: flirtation. that, and taping a kick me sign on your back.

words ; 1.3k

themes ; comedy, mild fluff and action, mutant au

warnings / includes ; mild injury/violence, sexual jokes and foul language, a lil bit of banter/terrible flirting, reader has the mutant ability to harness energy into ropes, wade steals blind al's crocs, reader's implied previous romantic relationship with wolverine, mentions of the rest of the x-men :)

Wade’s place smelled like greasy pizza, put-out cigarettes, and old socks. The door wasn’t locked—in fact, it was slightly ajar, and you could clearly hear Wade and Al bickering about missing Crocs.

“I swear I put them right here!” she vehemently exclaimed, gesturing to a potted plant. 

Wade rolled his eyes. “Right—because you always hang your Crocs on our leafy greens.” 

Al shuffled somewhere into the back of the house, complaining loudly to herself. 

You took that as your cue to silently step in, standing just behind Wade, noting with mild amusement that he was wearing a pair of white Crocs. The very ones Al was searching for, you presumed.

In the blink of an eye, Wade whirled about on the heel of his squeaky, rubbery footwear and brandished a knife. Its strangely warm blade slotted against your throat just as you defensively raised your hands.

“Watch it, Wade,” you warned, though you were not at all worried. His knife lowered and flipped back into the depths of his fluffy bathrobe when he realized who you were. 

“Oh. It’s you,” he said. The discolored flesh of his face twitched with a grin. “Did Mr. Metal Dick send you? The bullwhip substitute to watch over the class?” He snickered at his own joke, recalling your mutant ability to harness energy into the form of ropes.

“Piotr is off on vacation with Kitty,” you replied, propping your hands up on your hips.

Wade tipped his head back and guffawed. “Do you think he stays that way under the sheets?”

With a grimace, you pinched the space between your brows and sighed loudly. “Jesus, Wade—I don’t fucking know. Why don’t you ask him next time you see him?”

“Good idea.” He shuffled off to shuck open a box of day-old pizza on the table. “You want?”

“No thanks.”

“You sure? It’s pepperoni. You know how expensive it is to get pepperoni nowadays, in this economy? I’m offering you gold flakes on bread, here.”

“Mhm, I’ll pass.” After a considerable silence, only filled with Wade’s loud munching, you tested the waters by saying, “Charles actually sent me.”

Wade gestured at a chair and nudged for you to take a seat. “McAvoy or Stewart?” 

“What? Charles Xavier, who’s McAvoy and Stewart?” You sank down onto the creaky wooden chair, frowning at the baby powder rimming the backboard. It was probably Al’s. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was Wade, though.

Ignoring your question, Wade tilted his head and asked, “How’s Yukio? And her emo-face Megasonic Nuclear Bomb-Head girlfriend?”

You smiled slightly, remembering how they were pestering Logan, who’d been working on fixing a motorcycle back at the mansion when you left. 

“They’re fine. Wolvie, too.”

“No way!” exclaimed Wade. “Logie’s there, too? Jesus—whole damn gang’s there.”

“Except you,” you pointedly said.

Wade paused mid-chew. “Oh. Oh-ho-ho, I know what you’re doing here. Charles wants me to join his rag-tag team of circus freaks.”

“Wade—”

“The answer is no.”

“Come on—”

“And he wants me to be around all those kids? In a school? Has he met me?”

“Believe me, I don’t know what he’s thinking, either,” you told him, scoffing. “You’re the last person I’d expect to be on the team but… I trust Charles. If he wants you in, there must be a reason why.”

Holding his hands out, Wade shook his head. “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but Deadpool works solo. Except for that one time I formed the X-Force. But that was a team of people I hand-picked! The X-Men just doesn’t sound up my alley, y’know?”

You blew out a breath and fixed him with a serious expression. “Some day you’re gonna have to pull your head out of your ass and realize that there are people out there who are willing to be your friends. Your family. Don’t throw it away, Wade.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied you. 

“You’re really bad with rejection, aren’t you?” he finally asked, quirking up a brow—or, at least where his eyebrow used to be—and crossed his arms. The Crocs he’d stolen from Al squeaked as he stood up and gestured to the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t go running back to Charles the moment I said no. I’m beginning to think you have a crush on me, or something. Not that I blame you. My face may be fucked but my dick works better than ever. Just ask Al. She’s blind as a bat, but she hears everything in this damn house.”

Immediately, you grimaced. “Ugh. Don’t be crass.”

“What? I thought you were into broken men. Like to pick up their pieces, don’cha? You and Wolvie had that fling once, no? He told me all about it.” 

In truth, Logan had told him little to nothing about his brief relationship with you, but Wade had ruthlessly pestered him anyway. 

You stiffened at his words, glowering. “You’re exasperating.”

“And you’re looking awfully lovely today. That frown really accentuates your eyes. Makes you look about a decade older.” Wade leaned his weight onto the table, leering over you, patting your back twice. “I find it very attractive.”

With a flick of your hand, a crimson coil of your harnessed energy shot out and thwacked him in his side, and he hissed out a string of curses, backing away from you. You’d burned right through his fluffy white robe, to his simultaneous dismay and astonishment.

“Jesus!” Wade glanced incredulously from you to the slight, shallow gash that formed by his ribs, already starting to heal itself. “That’s actually—that was so fucking cool. Do it again!”

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself away and stood up. “Final time I’m asking. Yes or no?”

Wade pretended to give it a long, hard think. “Mmh…” He wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. “When Piotr comes back from vacation, he’s going to find you and he’s not gonna go as easy on you as I have.”

“Ooh, ouch. Hope he brings some lube with him.” Wade grinned wolfishly.

Completely fed up with him, you ripped out a wad of paper and a pen from your jacket’s pocket, scribbling down your phone number. You folded it in half before shoving it against his chest.

“I’m not giving up on you. I’m a competitive person, Wade. If Piotr was the one to convince you to join, I just wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re literally obsessed with me, I get it,” he remarked, sparing you a lopsided beam. He made a show of pocketing your number on the side of his robe that wasn’t burnt. “You little minx, you.”

With a final flick of your hand, you lashed out another coil around his foot, and made your way to the door just as he fell back onto the couch with a muffled oomf! 

Just as you left, you heard Wade cackling to himself through the door you left partially ajar, just as it was when you came in. You chalked it up to him finding it funny that you managed to trip him over with your powers, and strode away from the shoddy house with your lips twitching upwards. 

Wade, however, was laughing because he’d successfully pulled off taping a kick me sign onto your back without you noticing. A low and childish blow, but would certainly make for some fun banter whenever he saw you again—which, he suspected, would be pretty soon.

Plus, Wade thought you were pretty cute when you were riled up.

#wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #deadpool fanfic #deadpool imagines #deadpool drabbles #wade wilson imagines #wade wilson drabbles #wade wilson scenarios #deadpool scenarios #wade wilson fanfiction #marvel drabbles #wade wilson fluff #deadpool fluff #wade wilson x you #deadpool x you

[avocado-writing]

notes: i did this instead of anything in my inbox. sorry but it overtook me and became much longer than I thought. also I wrote raphael as the little sub he is teehee.

relationships: raphael x reader; enver gortash & reader (platonic, parent & child); eventual enver gortash x tav

words: 4k

rating: E

summary: a warlock of Raphael's, you visit the House of Hope one day and find a child. he cannot remain there.

Your life, really, is fine. Maybe a bit empty. But fine.

You’ve had Raphael as your Warlock patron for a while now. It’s fine too, he’s fine, there are definitely worse devils to be indebted to - the fact he’s attractive isn’t so bad either. You started fucking a few years ago and he’s basically wrapped around your little finger at this point. He’s still annoying as all hells but he bottoms well enough and the two of you enjoy being on each other’s good side, so it works out. Mostly what he has you do is track down and kill people who’ve pissed him off - and a lot of people have pissed him off, he’s very piss off-able to be fair, so there’s always plenty of jobs and you come to the House of Hope often, in between the mercenary work you do to survive.

This time you just finished hunting down someone who tried to weasel out of their contract. Raphael had you bring him the man’s head as proof of your work, and then you made him give you head after. Par for the course nowadays.

You peel yourself out of Raphael’s embrace as he bathes in the afterglow of getting spoiled in bed by you. You throw on your pants, and go to grab a bite to eat. Your patron always has a feast ready. It’s something to keep his servants distracted with, the constant cooking and replacing of dishes, and it’s nice to never be hungry when you’re here. You saunter into the banquet room and go to pick up a fistful of grapes…

… pausing when you see something utterly fucking shocking.

A little boy. Making himself as small as possible, dark messy hair and darker sunken eyes, all curled up by the fire. He looks at you with terror and you yelp in surprise, grabbing a spare tablecloth to quickly cover yourself with.

“What the fuck?!” you manage, looking around for answers to the unasked question. Nobody is here to give you any. Fucking lost souls, never here when you need them. You turn back to the boy who looks utterly terrified. “Are you meant to be here?”

He visibly swallows, nervous, and nods. Okay, right, great. Kid in the middle of hell. Of course. You're about to find Raphael and give him a grilling, when you hear a little stomach rumble.

You freeze, raise an eyebrow. Almost impossibly he shrinks further into himself.

“Have you eaten, kiddo?”

He shakes his head, unable to meet your eyes. Oh, well, that won’t do.

You grab a plate and begin to load it up with food for him. He looks hopeful though he tries not to show it too much, as if you’ll punish him for the very idea of it. Gods it must have been torture for the child, sitting in front of a banquet with no invitation to gorge. 

When the plate is so full that it threatens to spill over, you squat down and put it in front of him. The boy stares at it for a long moment before looking up at you.

“Go on. Dig in.”

It’s all the permission he needs. He tears into the food you’ve presented as if he’s never eaten before. As if it is ambrosia. You watch him wolf down chicken thighs so fast that he threatens to choke on them, and you feel your heart ache at the wretched sight.

“This really isn’t a place for kids. What’s your name, lad?” you ask, absent-mindedly swiping some greasy hair out of his eyes. You wonder when was the last time he washed, poor kid. He flinches at your touch a little but doesn’t stop eating, somewhat aware you’re probably the first person he’s met here who doesn’t mean him harm. 

“Enver,” he says through mouthfuls of bread. You tell him your name in return, though you aren’t sure if he really listens.

“I didn’t say he could eat.”

Raphael’s voice cuts through the moment, severe, and the boy freezes mid-bite. Terror floods him. He begins to visibly shake.

Oh, no. No. You won’t be having that.

You speak aloud, voice firm.

“Well, I said he could. Ignore him, kiddo.” 

You stand and put yourself between your patron and the child. This little boy has no idea who you are, but he can sense that you have some sort of power over the demon who’s walked into the room. Timidly he continues his meal. When you’re satisfied you turn to your devil, thunderous.

“Raphael? A word.”

Your tone leaves no wiggle room. He harrumphs and follows you far out of the boy’s earshot, where you unleash your fury. 

“Why is there a fucking child here, Raphael?!” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, his parents sold him to me. Well, to one of my other warlocks, actually, so through the upline he’s mine.”

He speaks as if reading from the paper, not discussing a child’s life. Your blood boils. You want to slap him, but he’d just enjoy it.

“This is no place for… well, fucking anyone, let alone a literal kid. What were you thinking?!”

He shrugs. For a devil meant to be full of cunning, Raphael rarely actually thinks through his short-term impulses into long-term plans. 

“Torture him, I suppose.”

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you say, hand instinctively summoning your blade. Raphael narrows his eyes. 

“Be careful when you reach for your sword, warlock, lest you forget the person who gifted it to you.”

Fuck. Shit. What an arseache. Okay, you can’t go about this by violence, he’s right. You need to be cunning. You let yourself soften and approach him, laying your hands on his chest. He raises an eyebrow but allows you to caress him. 

“Raphael, come on. You really want a child hanging around here? He’s going to ruin all our fun. I was going to have you on the banquet table later. You don’t want me to ride you while feeding you slices of apple? You enjoyed it last time…”

Your devil huffs but softens under your touch. Gods he really is easy to manipulate when you know which buttons to press. 

“You’re really up in arms about him, aren’t you? Look, they gave him away for a reason. He’s not some sweet innocent. He’s a little bastard, as far as I’ve been told.”

“Please don’t do anything too harsh to him? For me? For your favourite warlock?” you ask, pouting, sliding down Raphael’s body to your knees, ready to nuzzle into his cock in exchange for his agreement. 

He sags, weak for you. Got him.

“Ugh. Fine, you win, kitten. Spoilsport,” he mutters, and you slip him out of his underwear.

The next time you see Enver, it’s been a couple of weeks. You’ve just finished up a hunt and are reporting in - but he’s the first thing you check on. You find him sweeping one of the hallways, eyeing a wailing lost soul warily. 

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

He jumps a little, however he looks genuinely pleased to see you. Not enough for him to smile but at least some of the tension leaves him. 

“I’m alright,” he says quietly. He still looks sort of greasy. You’ll have to tell Raphael to let him bathe. 

“The boss been treating you okay?”

Enver nods. 

“Doesn’t really talk to me. Just tells me to do chores.”

Well that’s better than torture, you think. You reach into your pocket, root around for a bit, and hand something to him. His eyes go wide and then narrow in suspicion, and you have to reassure him that it’s not some sort of trick.

“Do you know what that is?”

“A sending stone,” he says, confidently, weighing the blue rock in his hand. You grin.

“Look at you! Clever kid. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. So I take it you know how they work?”

“Each holder can send a message of twenty-five words a day, and the other can reply with twenty-five. Total of fifty each.”

“Precisely! I’m giving this to you for if there’s an emergency, okay? If you’re in trouble, I want you to give me a message and I’ll get here as quickly as I can.”

He eyes the stone. It’s as if he can’t quite bring himself to believe that someone genuinely cares about his wellbeing.

“Why?” he asks, after a while. 

“Because you shouldn’t be down here, and Raphael can be an arsehole. But don’t worry, I can sort him out,” you say with a grin, and for the first time, Enver chuckles. You hear the sound of Raphael calling your name from down the corridor and you roll your eyes.

“Speak of the devil. Take care, Enver, alright? And remember, let me know if there’s a problem.”

He nods, tucking the stone into his pocket before you head off to tie your patron up.

You don’t hear from Enver for a week or so, but one day, when you’re on the road, you get a message coming through.

“Hello. It’s Enver. Are you having a good day?”

You look confused and reply, “Yeah, kiddo, I’m fine. Is there something the matter? Nobody’s hurting you, are they?”

Then, because it is the nature of the stone, you add: “If they are then you just say, I’ll come and set them straight.”

There’s a beat. You can imagine Enver considering his response.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to say hello.”

That’s as much communication as the day will allow but it hits you hard. Oh. He’s lonely.

And from that day on, you have a sort of penpal.

Enver messages you everyday without fail, always excited to see how you’ve been doing. He has very little to report, which you’re thankful for, because you live in fear that he will need to use the stone for its intended purpose. Occasionally he lets you know that Raphael has said something cruel or Haarlep is teasing him, and then it’s just a matter of heading to the hells and setting them straight. Haarlep is like a cat, difficult to make to do anything, but to be honest he’s your friend and will usually acquiesce after some teasing. Raphael is always a bit more difficult to persuade. He still sees the boy as his property, his thing to treat as he’d like, so you have to pull out all of your best tricks in order to convince him.

You always end up coming out on top, though. Funny that.

Your visits to the House of Hope get more regular. Enver greets you with smiles and then with laughs and then with hugs, and you find you’re growing fond of the kid. Every now and then you see a bit of the little bastard Raphael warned you of - you’ll catch him tormenting one of the damned souls down here, or attempting to trap and harass some sort of insect who accidentally crawled through one of the portals. But a soft but firm hand to turn him in the right direction is enough. He’s a boy with a bright future… if he’s nurtured.

And this place has no time for that.

You make the pitch to Raphael one night at the end of a long weekend in hell. You’ve been doing everything he’s asked of you, indulging his every whim, being ever so sweet and obedient for your master - and fucking him within an inch of his life. You relax in his bed, cuddled up to his chest, walking your fingers along the expanse of his pectorals.

“Raphael…” you say, dreamily, and he hums.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to push your luck?” he chuckles. You rearrange yourself to look up at him, eyes wide and wanting.

“Me? Push my luck? Never…” you run your tongue over his nipple and he groans.

“Spit it out then, kitten.”

“It’s the boy, Raphael. Can I have him? Please?”

He huffs.

“Why?”

“Why not? What does he do around here apart from take up space and eat your food? Surely you don’t really want him hanging around, do you? I’d like to be able to ride you and scream your name without the fear we’ll be overheard.”

Raphael considers this for a long time, and for a moment, you think he won’t take the bait.

“You’ll extend your pact with me. I want your soul. Forever,” he decides. 

Ah. That’s quite the price. You consider it for a moment.

“...You never get to interfere with Enver’s life again,” you reply, because this is how you deal with devils. Your bargain to gain their respect. He laughs.

“Fine. The boy is off the hook.”

“Done. And I get to take him out of here and do what I want with him, no questions asked. He’s free. And I’ll do that thing you like, right now.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Deal.”

The next morning, body aching, you read through your new contract. You make some amendments in blood but sign it. The rest of your existence signed over to this damned devil. Raphael kisses you on the lips, long and languid - and when you walk out of the House of Hope it’s with Enver’s hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” he asks, quietly. He’s scared. You squeeze his fingers in reassurance.

“Well, I’m on the road a lot. We’ll be travelling. Is that okay with you, kiddo?”

He nods, excited, and you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since you first met. He’s more than a head taller - gods, how long has he been down here? It’s not worth thinking about. He’s still pretty skinny, but you’ll fix that. Now you’re in charge of feeding him, you'll make sure he gets a good meal every night. Make sure he walks with his back straight and chin up.

Make sure he never has to feel small again.

It isn’t a perfect life, but it’s a damn sight better than what he had to put up with in the Hells. He smiles now, every day. Isn’t scared of people. Slowly grows confidence in himself because he knows that you’re in his corner, come hell or high water (literally). One day you see him drawing in a little notebook you got him, some sort of diagram far more complicated than you can understand - he explains the intricacies of the machine, so you get him some spare parts to start tinkering with. Gods the kid is a natural. So intelligent. Far smarter than you, and you’re worried you’re letting him down because you can’t keep up - but every time he shows you a new invention he seems so pleased when you compliment him.

“Look at you, kiddo! You’re amazing! I bet there’s nothing that you can’t do.”

And he looks like for the first time in his life that he believes what you’re saying.

Life isn’t easy, but it is worth living. You’re on the road more often than not. You don’t have a home to call your own, but you make sure your mercenary work is well-paid enough that you can put the two of you up in inns overnight, keep you both fed and entertained. Enver seems happy and that’s what matters.

You go back to the House of Hope as little as you can, now, reporting in when you do a job and fucking Raphael into submission. He asks you about the boy every once in a while and you palm him off with a laugh, acting as if you barely care about Enver rather than the truth: you’ve been actively putting money away towards a fund for his future.

You come back from one of your meetings late one night. You’re exhausted from what your patron has put you through and are looking forward to sleep. The portal opens into the inn you’ve booked for the night. You expect Enver to be dead to the world, but instead he’s wide awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up so late? Is everything okay?” you ask, surprised. Enver fidgets with his fingers.

“Does Raphael hurt you?” he blurts out. You’re shocked.

“What?”

“Do you want to be in a contract with him? Because if you don’t, I promise I’ll find a way to free you, like you freed me! I’ll get strong, really strong, and I’ll kill him for you.” His hands are balled into fists, jaw gritted. His eyes are dark in a way that’s troubling and he drops his gaze to his lap.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where’s all this coming from? Kiddo, nothing is wrong. Everything between me and Raphael is fine. I’m not unhappy or being forced into anything, I promise. What’s the matter, Enver, eh?”

When he looks up at you, there are tears pooling. He launches himself into your arms, holding you so tightly it’s as if you’re his anchor to this plane.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I love you…” and then there it is. He calls you ‘mum’, or ‘dad’, or some other word that settles what you already knew: he’s come to think of you as his parent now. He freezes when he hears himself say it and you think back to when he was that scared little boy, longing for a bit of food by the fireplace.

You hold him back.

“I love you too, son,” you tell him, and the two of you stay like that for a long while.

He asks if his last name can become yours. You introduce him as your child. You are a family. 

You’re right. He’s far smarter than you are, and you can’t keep up with him. It becomes more and more obvious as he gets older. He goes from brilliant teenager to incredible young man, and you’re glad that you have the funds to be able to send him to a good college and nurture his spark. You’re aware that you’re beginning to slow down a bit now. Your joints aren’t quite what they used to be, and though Raphael still covets you, he’s not oblivious to the fact that you’re getting on. His contracts for you become less vigorous. He likes to have you in his bed more than on the field. You don’t mind it, being pampered by your patron. It isn’t a bad life.

Enver doesn’t need to become Gortash. And what use has Bane for this man, this good man, this man who has made something of himself despite all of the odds stacked against him? None whatsoever. He never becomes the chosen of Tyranny. He is safe from the person he might have been.

The day he graduates at the top of his class is the proudest day of your life. You clap and cheer for him until you are hoarse, and he pretends to be embarrassed as you give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek in front of all of his friends, every inch the glowing parent.

He becomes chancellor because of his own merits, not due to any underhanded trickery. He is a master when it comes to machines. He never invents the Steel Watch because he does not have the warped mind to create them. Instead he focuses on technology to help the city of Baldur’s Gate: cleaning machines, security automatons, things which help with the admin of running to place so those in government can focus on supporting Baldurites. 

He buys you a house in the upper city. You settle down there as you grow older, make friends, get plenty of visits from your son. Everyone knows how loved you are. He eventually hires a young woman named Karlach as a bodyguard who you grow fond of: she makes up in brawn what he lacks, and she always puts a smile on your face when you have the two of them around for tea.

The Absolute comes. Raphael is poking around because of course he is. He’s got some new toys by now but you’re still one of his old favourites, and a couple of his most loved tricks with your tongue mostly keep him out of the way. Plus he promised not to interfere in Enver’s life, and he’s bound by that, the tricky bastard.

Some other person is Bane’s chosen, but it is not your Enver. Instead he fights for the side of good against the Dead Three and the mindflayer invasion, an ally to this Tav, the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Through their trials the two of them end up falling in love and it’s all you could ever want for your son. When the city fights against the Elder Brain you pick up your pact weapon for the last time despite his pleas not to: you’re a Warlock, damn it, and you’re going to defend your home until your last breath.

You don’t die, which is a nice bonus.

Enver and Tav help rebuild the city once the invasion has been stopped. Not too long in the future you have grandchildren, and they are the light of your life, always silly and giggling and joyous to hear the remarkable stories from your mercenary years.

You help out where you can but your age is weighing on you. One day, you take a tumble, and suddenly you’re bedbound; Enver and your family are visiting you every day as you get weaker, and you know that your final days can’t be far off.

He sits at your bedside, your hand clamped in his. Ah, a workman’s hand. The hand of a man who is constantly inventing and working and making himself useful. The hand of a good and decent man.

“The little ones go back to school tomorrow,” he says, fondly, “Tav is relieved. They’ve been rushed off their feet during the holidays– so many years since that Absolute business, yet the legislation is still going. They need a break, really.”

“It’s exhausting being a parent, isn’t it?” you ask with a grin, before being interrupted by a rattling cough which you can’t seem to shake. Enver lifts a glass of water to your lips and you drink, thankful. “Eurgh. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I’ll call the doctor again in the morning, see if she can get you any more of that tincture. Or maybe Halsin might have some ideas…”

“Oh, Enver, don’t go through all that fuss for me. Just sit here with me, kiddo.”

When you call him that, he knows he has no choice. You are still his parent, after all. He shifts to make himself more comfortable in his bedside chair, never letting go of your hand.

“I want you to know,” you say, voice soft, “everything has been worth it, Enver. My whole life was made better because you were my son. You’re the thing that I’m most proud of.”

His eyes go wide and glass over with tears, jaw grits.

“I… don’t say things like that, please,” he says, because he’s scared of what will come after.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, kiddo. I’m right here.”

He rests his head on the side of the bed, and you can see his shoulder heave as he cries. You bury your hand in his hair, smiling when it’s still a little greasy, and then you close your eyes.

When you open them again you’re in the House of Hope.

Your body feels lighter than it has in decades. You look down to see the wrinkles and liver spots in your hands are gone. You’re wearing what can generously be called an outfit, though it’s more straps of leather criss-crossed over your body.

“Well, did you have fun? Was your deal worth it in the end?” Raphael asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe, swirling wine around in a glass in his hand, another held out to you. You take it and frown.

“Were you… were you just standing here, waiting for me to bloody die?” you ask. He harrumphs.

“You didn’t answer my question, kitten.”

You take the wine, quaff it, then pull him into a kiss. He moans into your mouth in surprise and rapture.

“Yes,” you answer, honestly, because it was worth it. You’d never have made a different choice, “now, are we going to bed, or are you just going to stand here being smug for the rest of eternity?”

Raphael grins and pulls you to the bedroom.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

#raphael x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash x tav #gortash & reader #my writing #raphael bg3 #enver gortash #bg3 fic #fic #raphael bg3 x reader

[demetris-cocksleeve]

Can I request yandere Simeon with an oblivious reader?

(A/n: I'm still new to writing yandere stuff, so forgive if it's not the best 😅)

Word Count: 494

Summary: You're just too innocent for your own good...

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Simeon in his villain era

Age Rating: None

Yandere! Simeon x Oblivious! GN! Reader

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

'There he goes. Thinking he can weasel his way into their pants. Not if I can help it. Why can't they get it through their thick skulls that Y/n belongs to me?'

Simeon sits on the other side of the classroom, watching as a lower demon leans against your desk with a greasy smirk, probably throwing dumb one liners your way.

To say he's furious would be an understatement. Not at you. No, he could never be mad at you, his sweet, impressionable darling. No, his anger is aimed at the vermin that thinks he can speak to you.

He watches as you smile at something the demon says. You probably think he's just being friendly, but Simeon knows what he's really doing. He knows that he just wants to butter you up so he can use and then leave you in the dust.

He breaks when the demon fixes a lock of your hair, standing up and striding over to you. Coming up behind you, the demon sees him first -sees the murderous glare aimed at him.

You turn to see what he's looking at and Simeon quickly puts on an ever-friendly smile.

"HI Simeon!" You chirp in that sugary sweet voice of yours.

"Hey! So, I was thinking of stopping by Madam Scream's after class; Care to join me? It'd be on me of course~"

"Free food? Count me in!" You turn to the scum that has the nerve to still be here, "Do you wanna tag along? It's been fun chatting!"

Simeon takes a step forward as he levels him with another glare. "I don't think he wants to. Do you?"

The demon can hear the hidden threat if the way he gulps is any indicator. He may be an angel, but Simeon knows he can be scary. Just like he knows the demon knows better than to test an Archangel, much less challenge one.

"N-no- Sorry Y/n, I've got something to do..."

Simeon keeps his glare on the demon, though he knows your face drops. He hates it when you're upset and would do anything to keep you from being it. Anything but let another get close, that is. He's the only one you need; he's made sure of that.

He's perfected being a chameleon. Perfected the art of molding himself to be anything and anyone you could need. From a study partner to a gaming buddy, from a friend to a lover, from a shoulder to cry on to a protector. Heavy emphasis on the last one -even if you don't know you need it.

"Oh..." You only take a second to perk back up. "That's okay! Maybe next time, then?"

He keeps his eyes on Simeon as he answers, "Maybe... I gotta go. Bye Y/n."

He scurries away just as the bell rings.

Simeon pasters another smile on as he turns back to you, a real one this time. "Let's go get those treats, hm?"

#obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #yandere simeon #yandere obey me #obey me x #obey me x reader

[frostandflamesfanfic]

I Hate A Lot, But I Don't Hate You (Loki x Reader)

I Hate A Lot, But I Don't Hate You

Request: NO

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: A few mild swear words, but nothing major. Oh, and also fluff.

Summary: Being the adopted child of one of the world's most famous genius billionaire play-boy philanthropist isn't easy. It's even worse when you have trauma of your own. When you strike up an unlikely friendship with a certain god of mischief, things start to take a turn for the better. What happens when you find yourself chatting up a mysterious stranger after you get word of his untimely death one rainy evening?

You always hated galas. They were just parties for the Richy Riches of the world to schmooze with booze and wind up tossing their cookies off the nearest balcony. You had no true idea what tonight’s grand festivities were all about, if you were being honest. While being the adopted child of Tony Stark had its perks, you were tired of being a dressed-up snob and sipping way too much bubbly champagne. You’d always wondered how much alcohol it would take to cause someone to pass out completely. At one point, you had made a bet with Happy; he said ten flutes, you had called his bluff and upped the count to twelve. 

Maybe tonight would be the time to test that theory. . .seeing as I’m alone. Daddy dearest was already feeling the effects of his drinks. If you listened close enough, you could hear the drunken tones of “Poker Face” being sung along to a karaoke in the living room. 

“CAN’T READ MY, CAN’T READ MY, NO SHE CAN’T READ MY POKER FACEEEEEE,” he sang entirely off-key into the microphone. “Damn, what a face that is…right, Pep?”

Without having to turn around, you could make out Pepper attempting to get Tony off of the bar. You sighed to yourself as you made your way out onto the balcony. The room had become overly suffocating. There was too much noise and far too many people for your introverted soul to handle.  

It was a particularly dreary evening in New York City. Even though it was the middle of the summer, the moonlight was concealed by grey clouds and sprinklings of rain. The weather mirrored your mood perfectly – dull and hopeless. The truth was you were lonely. You were the poster child for rich kids, going out to parties, sneaking out every now and again to take a smoke break with some less-than-satisfactory characters. To the outside eye, your phone contacts were filled to the brim. In actuality, there were only a handful of names:

Dad.

Happy.

Mom.

Nat.

When it came to your dad’s “work friends,” either they didn’t have a phone, didn’t want to compromise their security by passing their number out. . .or they were Thor, who had no clue what a phone was at all. 

“Is it like an email?” he had asked once, an innocent grin plastered across his face.

“Do you have an email account?”

“Or a computer?” your dad added on in curiosity.

The blonde Norse god shook his head. “No?” he drawled with a confused chuckle. “Whatever for?”

Ironically, the only true companionship you found in Thor’s brother- sorry, adopted brother- Loki. You had met the greasy-haired weasel during his short-lived stay in the helicarrier prison during his initial attack on New York. Much to your father’s chagrin, you were tasked by Maria to keep a close eye on the self-proclaimed god of mischief. You had had the proper training, having joined S.H.I.E.L.D. a few years prior to the incident, a month after Ivan Vanko attacked your father at the Grand Prix. With Natasha as your mentor, you caught up fairly quickly. That’s why you weren’t worried. You could see through any trick good old reindeer games would throw your way. You were sure of it. Although, you had overheard Thor doing a dramatic retelling of Loki attacking him as a snake when they were children. . . that definitely didn’t scream traumatic childhood. 

It was that little-known fact which ended up helping to bring the two of you closer. With the glass functioning as a minimal barrier, your interrogation soon turned into a learning experience. . .

He stood with his back to the doorway, eyes focused on the drab colorless walls of the helicarrier as you silently slipped into the room. “There's not many people that can sneak up on me,” he remarked as he spun around to face you. “The widow taught you well.”

“I’d like to know what you've done to Agent Barton.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “But judging by your attitude, you already figured that out.”

“I’d say I’ve expanded his mind.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. Spare me the dramatic ‘I know more than you do’ crap.” You took a few steps closer to the glass enclosure. “Tell me what you did to Barton or I will rip every hair from your greasy little head.”

Loki’s lips curled into a mini-‘o’ shape. There was a playful glint dancing in his eye as he neared his side of the glass barrier. “Oh, well aren’t you ambitious.” 

“I’m a Stark. It comes with the territory.” You gave a short shrug.

“Oh, but that isn’t quite true,” his smooth voice brought a sickening smirk upon his lips, “is it?” He took a few steps closer. “Barton was a good little bird. He shared some stories about your past. All that fame…that glamour…it’s all a front. You’re far from the innocent little mortal you show the rest.” His smirk transformed into a grin as you took a step back. “All that time with the Ten Rings. You helped to kill your father…”

“Stop.” 

“Even then, Stark isn’t your father, is he? No…your real father-”

“I said that’s enough , Loki.” You couldn’t help the red flush as it crept up your neck. 

But he wasn’t done just yet. “Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?” He paused for a moment to stand closer to the glass, eyebrows arched up in anger. “This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer... pathetic !”

It wasn’t that your history embarrassed you. You knew you did what you had to do to survive, even if it meant you would be alone. At just ten years old, your family had been kidnapped by the Rings. Prior to your being captured, your father had worked for a tech company – Stark Industries, to be exact. The Rings wanted him to develop a new brand of weapon, something that could be mass produced and cause a hell of a lot of destruction. Your father had refused at first, but played along for a while once the leader threatened your safety. One night, you were ripped from your makeshift bed in the lab and thrust into a dimly lit room for questioning. All it took was one wrong answer and you woke up an orphan the next day. 

“At least I tried to make penance for my past,” you spat out, “instead of stabbing every person that annoys me.”

Loki scoffed. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Hm, let me think. Did you or did you not mentally whammy an Avenger for your own personal benefit?”

“For the last time, I expanded his mind.”

“Whatever, weasel.”

Your friendship may not have started out in a typical fashion, but it was a lifeline. Before Thor took the charcoal-haired mischief maker to Asgard for sentencing, you had made the agreement to stay in touch. You weren’t sure how, but about a week later, a raven carrying a tan scroll of parchment was tapping its beak against your bedroom’s glass window. It was the first letter of seemingly hundreds more. You would exchange stories about your lives, making sure to focus more on the past than the present. One time you had asked Loki how he was doing. 

That was clearly a mistake. 

I doubt it is easy to do anything ‘exciting’ within a prison cell, his snark had translated from the scribbled-on parchment in your hand.

Maybe next time you should think before yanking a guy’s eyeball out of his socket. Or mind-controlling an Avenger. And an innocent scientist. Oh, and threatening to inflict a dictating monarchy on an otherwise free world, you were quick to reply. If you’re looking for real entertainment, I hear the guards love it when you wave your middle finger from behind the glass.

 In addition to the quick-witted remarks, Loki’s letters were often used as a therapy session. He would bemoan his failed plans to take over Asgard and Midgard, er, Earth, how he hated his older brother, his adoptive father, the fact that he was always being watched by someone named Heimdall all the time…

So what, he’s like a living breathing nanny-cam? you had once joked, which led to you later explaining the complex nature of the magic voice boxes (known to normal people as cell phones) and their features. Loki was enamored by the concept of Midgardian technology. The two of you went back and forth. He would ask all sorts of questions and you would always do your best to answer with crappy illustrations. There came a point where the number of correspondences went from one to two a week, to three or four a day. 

You were really starting to feel bad for Hræfn the raven. 

Then one day, the letters just…stopped. Initially, you thought perhaps your cunning pen-pal had smooth-talked his way into a freedom deal. He had mentioned in his last note that Thor had asked him to join a mission. Surely he would have visited you afterwards, though, right? After everything you had gone through? It was almost as if he had sensed your fears when Hræfn tapped on your window in the middle of the night, parchment dutifully held within his beak. You let him in, making sure to drop a few handfuls of birdseed atop the windowsill before you unfurled the crisp parchment. As you read the words, your stomach dropped. 

This wasn’t your fault.

 You had tried not to let it shake you. It could have just been a prank, you thought. A sick joke to surprise me when he returns from the trip. That’s all it is. You had yourself so convinced of this hopeful fantasy that when Thor had returned to the city to tell you the news, you almost didn’t believe it. If anything, you were numb to emotion. It wasn’t until you noticed Hræfn had made his home atop your pillows that news had truly started to set in. 

You refused to speak to anyone for the better half of a month. Companionship seemed like a dull task to engage in with the Avengers and others at SHIELD. They would only look at you with pity and even a smidge of disgust that you would strike up a friendship with a psychotic trickster. It had taken some time, but you had moved on. You threw yourself into your work, taking on new missions and training the latest SHIELD recruits.  

= = = = = = = = = = = = 

You smiled bitterly at the memories as you looked out at the city skyline. It began to rain the minute you had dared to venture further out on the balcony patio. 

“I never quite liked the rain,” a voice said from behind you. Slightly startled, you spun on your heel to take in the tall frame of a dark haired man in a dark emerald suit. You had to admit he had a certain charm about him. While his appearance had an element of mystery, it was his eyes that truly captured your attention. They were a melting pot of colors, a mixture of baby blue and green. It would have been cliche, but it was almost as if you could see the world in his eyes. They were patient and inviting…and they were waiting for a response.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “I’m sorry. You, uh, you startled me a bit there.”

“My apologies.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Usually nobody can get the jump on me. It’s almost like you just…appeared out of nowhere.”

The man before you chuckled. “That would certainly be something.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Is there a reason you’re out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mystery Man remarked. “Someone who is out here in the rain with a glass that full is either having trouble walking or trying to hide from something.”

A dry chuckle escaped you. “I can assure you I’m doing neither of those things.”

“Then I must ask why you are out here.”

“Consider this a final farewell to an old friend,” you answered honestly, gesturing with a raised glass, “And what you just did is avoiding my question, mister.”

He shrugged. “I suppose I’m not much for parties.”

“Wow, don’t like parties…don’t like the rain…” you trailed off with a smirk. “Should we be compiling a list?” 

“I’ve considered it.”

“Well,” you asked after taking a small sip from your glass, determined to not let your face pucker into a frown from the bitter liquid, “what else is on this list?”

The man appeared to contemplate his answer for a period of time. “Brothers,” he spoke with confidence, “rain, those who challenge my authority, my father…never had a good relationship there…and strawberries.”

You let out a snort at the last one. “So you’re an authoritative strawberry hater with brother and daddy issues that should never be stuck without an umbrella. Interesting. Is there anything you don’t hate?”

“There is one thing, I suppose,” he shifted his weight between his feet. 

You took another sip of alcohol. “Do tell.”

“You.”

For the second time that evening, you were surprised. “Am I really that likable after a five minute conversation?”

The man didn’t answer at first. Suddenly, he was bathed in a green glow that faded in a moment to reveal…

“Loki?” his name left your lips in the form of a whisper. What was in that scotch? 

“Hello, darling.” That voice, his voice , said as a soft sad smile etched upon his face. 

You paused for a moment, eyeing the Norse god of mischief up and down. His hair was much longer than the last time you saw it, but no less greasy. His baby blue eyes pierced into your own gaze. During your time apart, you had often thought about those eyes and how it would feel to see them again. Would they be happy to see you? Perhaps there would be tears within them. Or maybe they would be triumphant and the connection you had shared was all a lie. Part of you wanted to scream; you should smack him straight to Hel for the pain he caused you. He had you thinking he was dead, but here he was, larger than life. You tried to form a sentence that would express all of the emotions bottled up inside of you, but the only thing that came out was…

“You hate the rain. Really ?”

He stared at you before letting out a heavy sigh. “Yes, rain.”

“Why?” you couldn’t help but to tease him. “Are you afraid you’ll melt?”

Loki paused for a moment. “Witches get burned,” he remarked. “I am not a witch.”

You couldn’t prevent the full-belly laugh that escaped your lips. “That’s funny,” you managed to wheeze out to the dark greasy-haired Norse god on your right. “That- that was a good one, Loki. Maybe you are getting the hang of this Midgardian thing.”

His facial features wrinkled into a series of creases as a frown spread across his lips. “Whatever are you talking about?” he asked.

“Well, I mean,” you said in between lingering chuckles, “you already have no trouble dressing the part.”

“Has anyone ever told you that they find you to be incredibly rude and annoying?”

“Actually, just the opposite. I’m unequivocally charming and helpful to my neighbors.” You tried your best attempt at a dazzling smile. “I’m very much desirable, which may surprise you, Laufeyson.”

Even though you had meant it in good faith and a joking manner, the barely noticeable flinch from Loki didn’t go unnoticed for your observant gaze. “Are there many?”

“What?” your brow knit in confusion. 

“Suitors,” he said slowly. “Are there many?”

“First off, they’re dates - not suitors. We don’t live in ye old Shakespearean times anymore,” you replied. “Secondly, there isn’t anyone. Not anymore.”

“But there was?” his rushed cadence surprised you. He almost sounded disappointed.  Were you just imagining it?

“There used to be someone…months ago,” it was your turn to speak slowly, truly contemplating each word that left your lips.

“Oh.” Loki’s demeanor seemed to continue to deflate the more you spoke. His shoulders sagged ever-so-slightly and a cloudy sadness filled his eyes. He had taken a few steps back and turned his attention out to the skyline before him. 

“He really seemed to understand me,” you continued, rubbing your hand against your left forearm. “Sure, he was a pain in the ass, but he understood what I was going through… the decisions I had to make…”

“I see,” said the depressed god of mischief. “This fellow…I’m assuming it did not end well?”

“You could say that,” a small smile flickered against your lips. Oh, how it must kill him not to know. The question became: do you drag this out a bit longer or tell him the truth? “He went and did something pretty stupid. It really screwed with me.” 

Loki nodded in understanding. “He must have been a real fool for letting you go,” he murmured. He cleared his throat. “What was it he did, may I ask.”

You hesitated for a moment. “He died.”

The minute the words left your lips, you watched his entire stance change. He was standing up much straighter now. When he spun around to face you again, you could see there was a new emotion hidden within his irises. It was hopeful, nearly longing. His pale lips were slightly parted and he was quick to wet them with a flick of his tongue while he contemplated his next response. “I-” he managed to stutter out, eyes still searching yours for some unspoken answer. “I am sorry to hear that. A loss like that-”

A small scoff escaped your lips at his phrasing. You waved a hand at him dismissively. “It’s fine, really. Turns out he’s been alive this whole time. Like I said, total asshole.”

“I see,” he nodded again and took another few steps closer. 

You didn’t stop him. 

“Would you like to dance?” It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes to you. Loki held out his hand to you, a gentle smile gracing his features. He was beaming at you, but you could see through his mask. He was nervous around you. It was odd, seeing him unsure of what to do next.  

“But you hate the rain?” you frowned at the man before you. “And there’s no music.” 

“Oh, darling,” Loki said as he gently reached over to caress your face with his palm. He carefully reached over and placed your left hand upon his shoulder before taking up your right hand into his own. His grip was almost comforting, making you feel secure and safe…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I may hate the rain…” he leaned closer to the point you could feel his warm breath fanning against your face, “but I certainly do not hate you.”

“Loki…” you said in a shaky whisper. As enticing as the situation was, you didn’t want to set yourself up to have your heart broken again. The last time you let your guard down and allowed him to see the real you, he left. Could you really handle that again?

He appeared to sense your hesitancy and gently pulled you closer against his chest. “It is me,” he promised. “I am not going to leave, not again. I love you.”

Gathering your courage, you took a chance and stood on your tiptoes to press your lips against his. You melted against him almost immediately. His touch was cool, but gentle. For someone with such confidence, Loki was a nervous kisser. He wasn’t quick to force himself onto you, he let you take control. It took what felt like years for him to move his hands to your waist, tugging you closer and causing a small hum to vibrate in your throat.

It was perfectly imperfect…just like the two of you.

===========================

Author's Note: Aw, wasn't that cute? I really enjoyed writing this fic, even if it's not something I typically write (don't worry, I'm still working on my requests!). The dialogue was especially fun, because Loki is just a sarcastic little demon. Fun fact- Hræfn actually means Raven in Norse (late night Google searches for the win, am I right?!)! If you liked this fic or want to see more Loki fics on my blog, it would really mean a lot if you left a like, comment, and maybe even a cheeky reblog. It lets me know what you all like to read and encourages me to keep posting! Until the next time!

#frostandflamesfanfic #marvel mcu #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki x reader #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #post thor dark world #tony stark #the avengers

[strawberryspotsstuff]

can u write a dsaf fic with a very protective henry x reader........ just wondering eye emoji eye emoji,,,,,

DSAF???? WAH1!!!!!

OMG. GOD, YES.

im so happy, ty so much!! this was quiet a surprise!! And I had such a fun time writing this!! and there is so much so uh, did i get carried away? who knows

tw: swearing, rude customers and flirty co-worker :( but henry protects you :D

The pig like squeals of children, and the echoed sounds of arcade machines, in the grease ridden, bug covered pizzeria. You rolled up your sleeves of the dark blue work uniform, you name badge on fake gold paper, sticky tapped to the shirt. Greasy sweat dripped down your back, as the pathetic fan was churning and sputtering out air on your face as you stood by the front counter giving very forced smiles to unnaturally skinny karens and fathers who wafted of bitter alcohol. Their children, pug like faces, and tight shirts which clung to their skin.  

You curled your fingers into a fist your knuckles turning white, fuck, you hated this. As a family was distracted by the entry fees, you could see the scowl of the mother and father, whispering to each other like high school girls.

And you knew that they were going to spit out some bullshit about the prices. You watched as her eagle like gaze glared at your hollow and overworked eyes, she moves her fat, red cherry like lips, before you hear her bird like squawking of a voice.

“Excuuuse me? HI. I’m here for a fun day, it’s my son’s birthday! And these prices are, horrible!” She squawked, God her voice was so high pitch.

“Sorry ma’am, I don’t control prices” You answered back, monotone, and sad.

Her mouth gaped open like a fish, and her short stack of a husband spoke up, stomping his foot like a child, he reeked of takeout and beer.

“Don’t you dare!! Talk to my wife like-”

He stopped and in return you rose a brow in confusion as you watched both parents gawk in horror behind you, you noticed that their weasel like kids escaped to the ballpit some time ago, lovely. Before you could ask, a cold but almost comforting hand finds it’s self on your shoulder.

Looking over, you see Henry. His very intimidating like blackened out like gaze and his sunken in cheek bones and his skin an unnatural light ashy purple. His hands stuffed in his pockets, slouching as his glared gaze stared at the pair.

“Salutations, valued customers. I heard squawking and I wasn’t aware I owned a zoo.” He gave a sadistic like grin, pointed canines peaking through his plump lips.

He adorned his iconic purple suit, that oddly matched his skin and a real-looking golden plated name badge, in cursive writing “Henry Miller”

The parents recomposited themselves, the mother giving a snobby, sour look and the father scowling, squinting his round, bulging eyes. 

“And who are you, freak? Buzz off. I was clearly talking to the pathetic employee” the man spat on Henry.

Your eyes widened, your hand quickly gripping on the side of Henry’s shirt tugging at it.

“Leave him.” You advised, giving a cold stare at the couple.

But Henry’s smiled widened, showing off his array of pearly white, snake like teeth. He glared hard on the man, who in return glared back but you could see the sweat forming on his fat rolls of neck.

Without no warning, Henry’s fingers reached out over the countertop and gripped onto the man’s nicely buttoned up shirt, his wife gasped and stumbled back. You noticed some of the customers went quiet, quickly glancing over seeing them stare at the ever-rising tension.

Henry pulled the man to his gaze, their faces so close to each other that you could see the hot breath on the husband's face, you could have sworn that Henry’s eyes blackened out for a moment.

“If I hear that ratshit of a language come out of your mouth, talking about my best employee, I’ll cut and stuff your head into the next pizza crust. Do you understand me?” Henry’s voice was so deep, low, something to it was manipulative, and sweet but at the same time, the guttural low of an animal.

The man didn’t answer, the colour from his face was gone, if that was even possible for the paley white man as Henry dropped him, his wife letting go of the tension and sobbing loudly, picking him up, their weasel snout faced children finally coming back, a mass amount of gum stuck to their hair.

“Are we going home mama?” One of them squealed. She nodded, her eyes lifeless, grabbing the back of her husband’s shirt and pulling him back to the car, the children giggling and kicking at his feet.

“Goodness, that was fun” Henry purred, ruffling your head.

You sighed, shaking your head before giving in and smiling.

“You didn’t have to do that” You hummed, rubbing your forehead with your sleeve.

He shrugged, wrapping his arms around your neck, and in the process glaring at the rest of the customers, everyone going back to their meals.

“Oh please, I’m just protecting my favourite employee” he sung out, continuing to glare at anyone who even looked over at your direction. 

“C’mon I need to head home soon, Jessica is coming in soon to take my spot” You looked up at him, dusting off your pants as you stepped out of his loose grip, walking away from the counter.

He hummed, grinning as he slumbered behind you walking to the employee’s only area. Like a guard dog he followed you and no one looked at you or even dared to, you gave a devilish grin in return.

The employee only area was a little sectioned away room in the back corner of Fredbear’s Diner, the door was a heavy metal, bolted down with the large black painted words: “EMPLOYEES ONLY” You quickly grabbed it’s cold handle and proceeded to push yourself in, Henry following you like a puppy. You rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“Y/N.” A try-hard of a flirt made his way over, leaning on the wall. He didn’t even notice Henry. Idiot.

“James. Please move, I’m going home”

He gave a dramatic pout, wiggling his hips at you but before he could continue, he finally looked up, and you had to cover your mouth as you sputtered out a laugh, watching the life drain from his face, his arm dropping from the wall.

 “Henry! Sir!” He squeaked out.

“It’s Mr Miller to you. Get back to work.” Henry glared, the young man gulping and nodding.

“Right…right, yes, I’ll go back on duty.” He stuttered, dropping his gaze and scuttering past and out the door.

“Goodness, we need more employees like you” Henry smiled, taking the lead to the back door, and opening it for you.

“Maybe you should” You teased “Oh, why thank you” You added, giving a bow as you stepped down the stairs. It was the late afternoon, the sun just setting behind the clouds, giving the sky a beautiful light pink, orange and yellow to it.

“Have safe travels home, Y/n.” Henry called out as you made to your car.

Before gripping onto the door, you looked up at the rounded man who leaned on the door frame, his skin stretched smile, that showed off his white canines. He watched you with those large, glazed over black eyes, making your shutter as you sit down and turn on your car and start to head out of the carpark, the sound of clumping dirt and gravel on the tires.

You reached for the radio, putting it on full blast. As you drove past the Diner, you failed to recognize Henry threating James by the Prize corner.

Another day at Fredbears.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

it has been a hot min since i played dsaf LMFAO.

i might replay it just for lore wise.

otehr then that, hope this was okay :D

#dsaf on this page??? #wowowow!!!! #strawberrycow writes #y/n x protective henry #i hope i got the character desc right :skull: #if i replay dsaf #i will def edit this #i got this in class and the SURPRISE ON MY FACE #bro i got so happy :')

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Freedom Pt. 2

(Greaser!Peter Parker x Reader AU)

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had trouble getting inspired. But, here it is, I hope it’s not too terrible!

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4...

When Peter finally stopped, pulling the motorcycle into a parking structure attached to a small apartment building, you were half asleep. Your arms were wound tightly around his waist, your body pressed against his back, loving the warmth that radiated from him. Coming to a space next to the stairwell door, Peter stopped the bike, kicking out the stand, before carefully pulling away from you and climbing off the bike. You groaned at the absence of warmth, the cold night air washing over you. You pulled Peter’s jacket tighter around you, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked around curiously; you had never been in this part of the city. Your father had always told you nothing came from this side of town but trouble.

“Where are we?” you asked, stretching your arms above your head, a yawn escaping you. Peter chuckled, shoving his keys in his pocket and turning to face you.

“We,” he began, a small smile quirked his lips, bringing his arms around your waist to gently lift you off of the bike, “are home.” Setting you on your feet, he immediately took his arms from around you, but took your hand instead, pulling you to the apartment entrance. From what you had heard your father say about the buildings in this area, you expected the interior of the complex to be dark and hostile. Instead, you were met with a pleasant warmth and the smell of home cooked food. Despite the building being shared by multiple tenants, the atmosphere was more like one large home - welcoming and safe.

You followed behind Peter as he led you up the stairs and through the building. In your drowsy mind, you thought about how nice it would be to live here, with all of these people, unlike how you lived now, alone, in a big house on the upper East Side. You also thought about how nice it was to hold Peter’s hand, though it was just to lead you through the halls, you thought about how warm his hand was around yours and how gently he led you, like you were delicate. It was so different than how Jake would hold your hand - not at all controlling or oppressive. You were jostled from your thoughts when Peter came to a stop outside one of the apartments. The number on the door read “APT. 216.” A screw at the top of the ‘2’ had come off, so the number tilted slightly to the right.

Peter bent down and picked up what looked like a rock from beside the “Welcome” mat. You watched as he flipped it over, taking a key out of the back. You felt a laugh bubble in your throat at the irony of it. Bringing a hand up to hide your smile, you raised an eyebrow at Peter.

“You use a fake rock… in an apartment building?” Peter glanced at you, a light blush on his cheeks, and chuckled sheepishly.

“I know it’s silly, it was my aunt’s idea.” Peter responded, inserting the key and unlocking the door before returning it to its rock. Before he opened the door, he paused and looked at you for a moment. “ Speaking of, she is probably asleep, so we should try and keep quiet.” You nodded in understanding, miming zipping your lips and throwing away the key. Peter smiled again and pushed open the door, pulling you in before silently closing the door. Stepping into the apartment, you were overwhelmed by the smell of pastries and cookies, you couldn’t explain it but it was the type of smell you wanted to wrap yourself up in and never leave. You looked around, noting all the pictures on the walls of Peter and - who you assumed was - his aunt.

Locking the door, Peter turned and took your hand again, quietly making his way to the kitchen. He had told Aunt May he would be home by 10. Glancing at the clock, it read 12:45 AM. He was so dead. He was thankful she was already asleep, he didn’t know how she would react to him bringing a girl home in the middle of the night, but he could assume it wouldn’t be good. Making his way through the kitchen in the dark, he made his way to the fridge, planning on getting some ice for his hands, and (Y/N)’s face. His plan was to have (Y/N) hide in his room, then in the morning he would sneak her out, then wear gloves for the next couple days to hide the bruises on them. Aunt May hated it when he got into fights.

Reaching the fridge, Peter grasped for the freezer handle, then suddenly the room was flooded in light. Hissing slightly at the sudden brightness, he turned to the entryway and saw who had turned them on. Standing in the doorway was a very tired looking Aunt May. She stood in her robe, with her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers drumming on her bicep, the unspoken irritation evident. From where she stood, Aunt May couldn’t see you hidden slightly behind Peter and the fridge.

“Nice of you to join me, Peter.” she said, the anger laced in her words as clear as day. Peter swallowed thickly, feeling (Y/N) squeeze his hand. Aunt May’s slipper clad foot began to tap impatiently on the floor as she waited for Peter to speak.. She narrowed her eyes, as if daring him to make an excuse. Pulling himself together, Peter tried to give an innocent smile. One wrong word and he was done for.

“Hi, Aunt May! I was just uh…” he trailed off dumbly, searching for a way out of this. Her fingers stopped drumming on her arm and her foot fell still as Aunt May let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose and rolling her neck from side to side, trying in vain to ease the tension in her shoulders. She ran a hand over her face, seeming too tired to fight with Peter right now. The smile on Peter’s face fell away, noticing the bags that hung under her bloodshot eyes, he realized just how tired she must be. She had stayed up waiting for him, even though she had work the next day.

“I’m sorry Aunt May. I just… I got caught up in something…” he reached up to rub the back of his neck feeling extremely guilty. As he brought his hand up, Aunt May caught sight of the fresh cuts and bruises on them. Uh oh… wrong move.

“What did I tell you about fighting, young man?!” she half-heartedly scolded him. Peter’s eyes widened, realizing his mistake and quickly burying his hand in his pocket. He opened his mouth to try and explain, but Aunt May quickly cut him off, raising her hand. “Save it! I tell you time and time again, you need to stay away from those boys! Something bad could happen! I don’t need to lose you too!” She walked forward, continuing her rant. “One day someone is going to get seriously-” When her eyes fell on (Y/N), she noticed her bruised face and busted lip; the anger drained out of her, replaced with concern. “Hurt…” she glanced at Peter, who was looking down at his shoes, then back to you. She took in the blood and dirt maring your pink dress and the large leather jacket that covered your arms before finally landing on yours and Peter’s intertwined fingers. She couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Aunt May this is (Y/N).” Peter introduced you, keeping his head bowed. Fear boiled in the pit of your stomach. You were scared of what she would do. You had no right to be here in her home, especially at this time of night. Glancing at Peter, you took a step forward, feeling that it was unfair for Peter to take the blame for a fight that was your fault.

“I’m sorry Ms. Parker, I was in trouble, and Peter-he helped me.” Tears pricked at your eyes and your voice shook slightly as you spoke ”I-I didn’t mean to involve him, it’s just my boyfriend, he-he was-” Aunt May shook her head, smiling gently and quietly shushing you.

“You don’t need to explain, dear.” The kind smile she offered you chased away your fear. She stepped forward and reached a hand out, cupping the side of your face, her eyes searching over the damage. “The important thing is that you’re both okay.” Her gentle touch soothed your rattled nerves. Removing her hand, she opened the freezer and took out two ice packs, tossing one to Peter, who caught it with one hand, and placing the other in your hand. She smiled once again and chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” She gestured to her robe and slippers, “I would have worn something more presentable if someone would have told me we were having company.” She shot a look at Peter, who smiled sheepishly.

“It wasn’t exactly planned, Aunt May.” Peter said. She only rolled her eyes, taking a step back, she looked over the two of you again.

“Well, there is no helping it now.” She sighed before offering you another kind smile. “Is there anyone I need to call dear? Your parents? To let them know you're okay?” She asked. You blushed, pressing the ice pack to your swollen lip.

“My parents are out of town, there is no one at home.” You answered, praying she wouldn’t make you go home to that place, absent of warmth. The idea of being alone right now rattled you.

“Well, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like,” Aunt May offered, leaning back against the fridge. “I don’t like the idea of you alone after something like this.”

“Me neither…” you heard Peter mumble under his breath, giving your hand another squeeze. Relief washed over you, the fear of being alone was enough to make you dizzy. With everything that happened, you were sure Jake would be coming after you, and he knew where you lived.

“Thank you ma'am, I promise I won’t be any trouble.” Aunt May waved away your concerns, yawning.

“Don’t worry about it dear, if you need anything just ask Peter. I’m going to bed, I have an early shift in the morning.” She grumbled, shuffling over and giving Peter a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight Peter, goodnight (Y/N).” She mumbled, walking out of the kitchen. Suddenly, you felt beyond tired, like you could sleep for days. Glancing at Peter, you caught his eye, causing the both of you to smile. He gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, a small blush on his cheeks.

“Welcome home.”

---

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4...

#peter parker x you #imagine #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman #marvel prompt #marvel oneshot #marvel #tom holland #greasy weasel #greaser!peter parker #amazing spider man #spiderman x you #spiderman au

[starshipsofstarlord]

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

#bucky barnes smut #loki laufeyson smut #Bucky x reader x loki #bucky barnes x reader smut #loki laufeyson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #mcu au #marvel smut #mcu smut #mcu x reader smut #mcu x reader #marvel x reader smut #rockstarbucky #marvel x reader #bucky oneshot #loki smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #imagines #imagine #xreader

[slashingdisneypasta]

Imagine-

Pervy MultiVillains trying to initiate something with you, but you're acting all squirrelly and trying to brush him off, which is very out of the ordinary and confusing them... because, and you dont want to admit this but,... you kinda, sorta, maybe already took care of yourself 😅

Beetlejuice kinda jokes about it at first, like "What?? You already do it or something baby???", a goofy befuddled look on his face- and then... slowly... his face grows stormy and his voice goes demonic when you just kinda laugh, nervously, in responce. "Wait wait wait- You did!? " He finally found someone with a similarly high sex drive as he does and you did this to him?? He finds this to be fucken heinous betrayal. If you're gonna fuck yourself at least let him watch! So no. Oh, no. He's not going to let this go right away. This pisses him off. And tonight you're going to learn a lesson from him you will never forget.

Chucky didn't even know that was something you did at all- masturbate?? You?? You're way too cute for that, no way. But when you jump at his touch, he's got to consider it. He's like, "huh... okay then... hm... be right back." He promptly leaves you and goes in search. Your room gets picked through, your internet history is checked, every miscellaneous bottle in your bathroom gets read- until he finds proof (A toy, porn, racy tumblr blogs, lube or toy cleaner, whatever).

"Aha!" He'll exclaim, and you will never hear the end of it after that 😅 What? He's just very curious about this part of your life he had no damn idea about~~

When you continuously attempt to distract Freddy, he grows increasingly suspicious of you- until you're just chatting away and he's not trying to touch you anymore but he's not listening either, he's thinking... and it's never a good thing when he thinks. After a few minutes of this he suddenly speaks ("Do you have a toy??" Cuz like, theres gotta be a reason you are acting so damn sensitive, and he knows you. He knows how you act when you've had a time~), and it takes you by surprise so it takes you a moment to register what he's said and then- when you do- you open your mouth to object... notice the very serious, I will know if you lie bitch, kinda look on his face...

"No!??" You exclaim, though the fact that you're running away tells him everything he needs to know.

Greasy doesn't consider it on his own- he's used to being turned down so he just sorta goes off huffing. Like, fine. Maybe next time you need him he'll tell you he's not in the mood, eh? It's not until he's complaining to Wheezy, who's not really paying any attention and says something off-hand like maybe y/n delt with it themself tonight, that Greasy has the 💡💡💡 moment ("Wait... what? WHAT!? You think... they... oh no. Absolutely not- "). He's off in a millisecond, leaving Wheezy thankfully alone again, and throwing your door open again like

'Y/N!! WHERE IS IT HERMOSA!?'

'Jesus christ Greasy what the hell!??'

(And I could not for the life of me think of anything for Hades, my brain just went nooooooooooooooo sh sh sh nope nonononono not today ma'am- so I will be back here when my Hades brain boots back up)

#Imagine #Imagines #MultiVillains x Reader #MultiVillains x Reader Imagine #MultiVillains Imagine #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x Reader #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Greasy Weasel #Greasy Weasel x Reader #Hades #Disney Hades #Hades x Reader #Disney Hades x Reader

[marinerainbow]

The sentence thing!! I wasn't sure if you wanted x reader or not but since that's my only specialty, I'm going with that 😅😅 Of course you don't have to do them all- I'm just giving you options! ^^ You don't even have to do any if you aren't inspired by them!!

Just sit in Stupid's lap, they said, there ain't no more seats.

"Hmmm, I wonder if my soul can be sewed back on... like Peter's shadow... " Psycho wonders allowed, looking meaningfully to you with those big eyes before they flicker over to your sewing box, "Its worth a try I think!!"

You didn't even need to look when your coworkers exclaimed that there was a zoot suit wearing wierdo outside with a 'Forgive me?' sign, you just continued on typing like normal; Greasy's going to have to try harder then that after the stunt he pulled.

"... damn," Wheezy huffed, on his knees and concentrated on the fabric sticking to your thighs, "'s much as I love this dress, Y/N, y' need to invest in some easier clothes to get out of."

You couldn't even think as you watched Smartass leave for the day- you just had the worst feeling, something in you screaming inside... screaming that he absolutely should not leave that day, that you shouldn't let him; That you should hug him harder while you can.

Thank you so much! These were so fun to do! Even if Wheezy's got me bad 🔫. I hope you like them! (Whether they're humanoid or weasel toons in these, you decide! ^^)

Also I kinda cheated with these- IT'S SO HARD JUST STICKING WITH ONE SENTENCE! So I tweaked so it's more like paragraphs instead- I STILL TRIED MAKING THEM ONE SENTENCE THOUGH... And Smartass and Greasy got one more paragraph 😅

~

You were completely gobsmacked when the others suggested that so casually- and Stupid didn't seem to mind it either, he just smiled like a doofus and waved to you from his spot on the couch!

Well... ok, if they insist and Stupid is ok with it... But Greasy better not make any jokes! You know where Smartass keeps the spray bottle!

You didn't even have to say anything when you approached him awkwardly, he just plucked you up and sat you down with him without a word, "Here 'ya go! We can share the bowl!"

You just nodded with a vague, "Uh-Huh..." as you process everything going on; it's not like anything dirty was happening, everyone else was invested in the movie, and it was just you that was anxious... Then again nobody else here had a big fat crush on this loveable dork like you did, so... Yeah.

It wasn't until Stupid offered you the movie snack, which you just now noticed was specifically (favorite movie snack), did you just smile back at him, accept the food, and focused on enjoying the moment with him.

~

What the- "How is that going to work!?" You think in panic, glancing between Psycho's soul and his... Body, laying on the floor right where he fell over, "Souls! They... Th-They aren't tangible like your body! I can just push my hand through you right now! How will the thread stay in place!? And sewing you on your body isn't the same as putting your soul back in your corpse!"

Oh God, why did you tell him that joke? Why did he laugh so hard at it!? It wasn't even that funny! It was stupid! That was exactly why you felt it was safe enough to tell it! Did that say more about you, your boyfriend's sense of humor, or the joke itself? How was Smartass going to react knowing you killed Psycho?? Why wasn't Psycho mad at you for killing him!?!? Oh God, what were you going to do? What if-

"Y/N! Y/N! Look!"

You blinked and looked back up towards Psycho, who, without breaking eye contact... pushed your cup off of the coffee table, proving that his soul- somehow- still was physical, so you could theoretically speaking, sew it onto his body...

"... Alright." You say before grabbing your sewing kit, ignoring his excited cheer and trying to keep calm, "But I'm not really steady right now, so it's your job to make absolutely sure you're aligned with your body, ok? I don't want to sew your hand to your foot or something..."

~

"Uh... Y/N? I don't think he's going away..." Your coworker added, an unnerved edge in her voice.

"Just ignore him. The more attention you give him, the worse he gets." Was all you had to say to that, speaking from your own experience with the... Well, it's in his name!

It wasn't until another one of your coworkers told you that the 'weirdo' seemed to be trying to come inside, did you groan and swivel your chair around towards the window, to see your 'casanova' desperately trying to open the door to your workplace... By pushing it instead of pulling it open, despite what the sign clearly stated... God he was an idiot sometimes.

"Ok, this has gone on far enough..." You mutter to yourself as you curtly stand up and storm over to the door, roughly pushing it open and causing Greasy to topple back and land on his behind... You choose to ignore your guilt and cross your arms, "You're not gaining my forgiveness this way, so leave."

The gangster looked wide-eyed and slack jawed at you- and the door, seems like he finally noticed the sign- before scrambling up and dusting himself off, "Y/N! Mi vida! Please, I just need to-"

You promptly close the door on him, ignoring how he looked like a betrayed house cat at the front door, and walk back to your desk; maybe you'd let him talk later, but you were too mad right now.

~

You couldn't stop the chuckle leaving your lips as you let your boyfriend suffer just a little bit longer with your dress, "I thought you liked a little challenge~"

"Tch, I wouldn't really describe it like that..." Was Wheezy's response, the smoke billowing from the corners of his lips as he glanced up at you, finally asking you- silently- for help after so long of fumbling with your dress.

Hm... "Nope. You gotta figure it out yourself, honey. Can't do the work for you after all."

He narrows his steely blue eyes at you, though you could see a hint of amusement behind them as he went back to work, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you planned this, princess."

"Now, why would you think tha-" You suddenly cut yourself off when you felt the air hit your now bare thighs, your knees suddenly feeling weak when you see the triumphant- and promise of some revenge after your little stunt- smirk on your partners' lips.

~

"... Wait!" You called out as you ran after him, just before he closed the front door of your new home, in the human side of Los Angeles, "Please, you can't go!"

The boss sighs, having already heard your worries the night before, "Y/N, this is the last job Doom needs us to do. We can't exactly skip out on him now-"

"Babe, please. You know how dangerous this is. Just stay home." You tried to plead with Smartass, your wide eyes staring straight into his own as you took his hand in yours; using every trick you knew to convince him to stay, "All it takes is a little slip near the dip, and you... You could..."

"Hey there, c'mon, you know we'll be fine." Where the others couldn't see, he offers you a tender, comforting smile as he brushes a stray hair strand behind your ear, "I ain't letting these maroons dip themselves on my watch. And if the judge tries to throw us under the bus, we'll be ready... You just stay here, and think about the new life waiting for us tomorrow."

... He's so confident that this plan of Doom's will work, that the two of you and his gang will have the freedom to do whatever you please once all the toons are gone- and, like the many times before, it's enough to convince yourself to ignore the growing dread you feel and watch Smartass and his team load up in the van before driving off.

It's alright, you'll see your boys tomorrow, just like Smarty promised... You have to...

~

I hope you liked this! I wanted to put in as much detail as I could without breaking the rules more than I already have. Hopefully I was successful XD

#Toon Patrol #reader insert #WFRR #Who Framed Roger Rabbit #Stupid Weasel #Psycho Weasel #Greasy Weasel #Wheezy Weasel #fluff #angst #collaboration #other peoples writing #my own writing #Smartass Weasel #Disney #Disney Villains #i got so flustered with Wheezy's oh my lord #i was trying to keep it suggestive without going all out XD #hopefully i succeeded and it doesnt look awkward XD #suggestive #also getting Snartass' dialog right was surprisingly difficult to do! i can't get the new yorker accent! #sentence starters

[myluciferiscody]

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

1.

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character. 

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town. 

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible. 

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table. 

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words. 

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book. 

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour. 

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke. 

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air. 

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning. 

2.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing. 

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them. 

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head. 

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction. 

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum. 

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right. 

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door. 

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill. 

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not. 

3.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return. 

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look. 

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement. 

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold. 

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you. 

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?” 

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut. 

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl. 

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer. 

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple. 

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket. 

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning. 

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside. 

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off. 

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things. 

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached. 

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class. 

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.” 

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this. 

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

#dandy mott #dandy mott x reader #ahs imagine #dandy mott imagine #ahs freak show #winter anderson #zoe benson #american horror story

[goldentournesol]

All You Had to Do Was Ask

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

Drabble, but not really :D

“Hey. Could you do a Spencer request where reader, him and the team are at readers flat getting drunk after a tough case, and whilst she's getting the pizza at the door, the team nudge him to ask reader on a date as he won't shut up about her, as they are best friends & he loves her and how much he fancies her on their way to her apartment. Reader keeps her feelings well hidden, and Spencer, well doesn't until tonight hehhehheehehehhehehehe”

masterlist

“Okay, my place. We’re getting drunk and we’re eating lots of pizza. Who’s in?” Y/N announced as soon as her feet touched the ground after coming off the jet.

“Ooo! I’m in!” Emily raised her hand quickly.

“Yes, me too! Need something greasy after that case.” JJ quickly agreed.

“What’s all this talk about getting drunk?” Derek asked curiously.

“We’re going to Y/N’s place to eat pizza and get drunk, Morgan.” Emily said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Are you in?”

“Hell yeah! I’m not turning down free pizza.” Morgan teased.

“Oh what, just because it’s my place, I have to pay for the pizza?” Y/N teased, even though she was ready to fight anyone if they tried to pay.

“Rules are rules, babygirl. Kid, you in?” Morgan looked towards Spencer. Spencer hesitated momentarily but decided that he would rather be around Y/N than be alone, no matter the extra company.

“Uhh, sure. I didn’t have any plans anyway.” Spencer shrugged and Y/N’s heart involuntarily skipped a beat.

“Great! JJ and Em can ride with me, we’ll meet you guys there after you pick up Penny.” She said, texting her immediately to let her know. Hotch and Rossi both politely declined.

The three ladies got into Y/N’s car and drove off. Morgan slapped Spencer on his shoulder before getting into his car.

“Man, you’d do anything she asked of you, huh?” Morgan asked, thick brows raised at his friend.

Spencer just rolled his eyes, “Oh shut up.” He knew Morgan was right, though.

The entire BAU knew about his affections for Y/N, except her. Although everyone had their suspicions, she’d never expressed her romantic feelings towards Spencer--or towards anyone to be honest. She preferred keeping her love life and work separate, until she met Spencer Reid. He kept weaseling his way into her mind no matter how hard she tried to fight it. Even though she’d done her best to hide her feelings from the outside world, she knew just how much she loved the young doctor. But their friendship was too precious to take that risk.

“Hey, babygirl!” Morgan greeted Garcia as she took a seat in the back, dramatically gasping.

“Boy wonder?! Coming with us to get drunk?! I never thought I’d see the day! It’s just cause you wanna be around Y/N, isn’t it?” Garcia gushed teasingly.

“Guys, seriously, stop. She’s my best friend, nothing more.” Spencer rushed, his cheeks heating up.

“Reid, it’s painfully obvious that you like her. Just go for it, what do you have to lose?” Derek’s tone shifted suddenly.

“Uhh, I’d lose my best friend?!” Spencer countered incredulously.

“No you won’t. You won’t lose anything, you’ll only gain a lover!” Garcia said excitedly, a certain dreamy quality in her tone.

“Besides, I don’t even know if she feels the same way.” Spencer hoped to end the conversation soon.

“You’ll never know until you ask.” Morgan said, already parking at her apartment. He’d probably take a cab home and get his car the next morning.

Y/N had just ordered the pizza while Emily and JJ had already started drinking.

“Hi!” Garcia exclaimed as she squeezed Y/N at the door.

“Hi Pen! Took you guys long enough, I just ordered the pizza, it should be here soon.” She let them all in, her hand squeezing Spencer’s shoulder as a simple greeting as he passed by her to enter the apartment. He smiled down at her fondly. He’d been to her apartment countless times. She’d often make him stay over if he was too tired to go back to his place, since her apartment was closer to headquarters and all. He never minded. Morgan and Garcia quickly joined JJ and Emily on the couch.

“You alright?” Y/N looked up to Spencer worriedly, seeing as his face was flushed. Her hand traveled its way down his arm into his hand and gave it a squeeze. It wasn’t new for them, but Spencer lost his words every time she did it, so he just nodded. He discarded his blazer and bag by the door and joined the rest of the team. Morgan and Garcia were in the middle of reenacting a funny encounter between them. JJ, Emily, and Y/N laughing as they held their wine glasses close to their chests. 

It was nice to see them all so carefree, but Spencer’s gaze was stuck on Y/N. The wine gave her skin a pretty flush. The soft lights in her apartment gave her eyes a twinkle. The sound of the doorbell chiming was the only thing to rip him from his reverie. He blushed as he realized he was staring.

“Oh! That must be the pizza! I’ll be right back.” Spencer watched as Y/N bounced off the couch and made her way to the door.

“Dude! You’ve gotta shoot your shot already!” Morgan whispered as he shoved Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer cast a worried look at the door to make sure she was out of earshot.

“Yes! You should definitely go for it! You’ve been making heart eyes at her since you got here!” JJ pointed out in a hushed tone. Spencer violently shook his head, the fear of rejection consuming him.

“Spence! You’re a total catch, just ask her out on a simple date, you don’t have to confess your undying love for her.” Emily added.

“Shut up, shut up.” Spencer shushed as Y/N came back with the food. He stared at her and decided that he would make a move tonight. 

Time moved much slower than he remembered, but that was probably only because he was nervous. Slowly, but surely, the party died down. JJ and Emily were sharing the guestroom. Morgan and Garcia split a cab home. Now it was just the two of them. Nothing new. Nothing to worry about.

They settled on the couch like they normally do when they binge watched movies together. Y/N had her head rested on Spencer’s shoulder and her arms were wrapped tightly around one of his, except there was no movie on. Y/N wasn’t totally drunk, but he could tell she was a little buzzed. They sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s company but Spencer’s heart was ready to leap out of his chest at any given moment. He sensed that she was about to fall asleep, but it was now or never.

“Y/N?” He said softly. She hummed softly in response.

“What would you say if I asked you out on a date?” He pursed his lips.

“Ask me and you’ll find out.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“Wait, really?” He shifted in an attempt to find her eyes. She smiled and shrugged with a faint nod.

“So...would you...I mean...do you want to...you know, go to date with me--no, that wasn’t right. I mean go on a date with me?” He stammered nervously which made a giggle bubble in her throat.

“Yes, Spencer, I would love to ‘go to date with you’.” She teased, “All you had to do was ask.” She grinned and he literally let out a breath of relief.

“Well, that was way easier than I expected.” He laughed.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid masterlist #drabble

[the-sarcastic-trashmouth]

The silence of Nothing

Summary: “Stanley, you have some visitors.” His mother’s soothing voice called out into the dark bedroom. “It’s all your friends.” She explains, opening the door wider to allow light into the room. “Go ahead in… he’s a little… under the weather.” She explains as the losers look into the room before freezing.

Stan was a very precise person when it came to things… so seeing his room in such chaos was… concerning, to say the least.  He liked order and that’s what made him the logical mind of their rag-tag bunch of misfits. 

“Stan?” Bev was the first one to speak. “What’s going on?” She asked, wanting to run her fingers through his greasy curls, but decided against it. 

Stan was staring at the wall in front of him with a blank expression. He wanted to cry… He felt like he should, but there was nothing. No tears or sobbing breathes of sorrow… just a giant hole in his chest that was growing bigger. His throat tightened, making it hard to breathe as his lungs expanded to the max before shakily falling back down.

 “St-St-Stan?” Bill asked.

Stan flinched at the feeling of the bed dipping towards the bottom. He knew that it was Bill but his brain was acting like a terrified animal… All he wanted to do was crawl under the bed so they couldn’t see him anymore.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris

Warning: Contains Depressive Episodes which may be triggering to some readers. 

Stan felt numb to everything around him.

From a very young age, Stanley Uris was a boy who never spoke often and didn’t interact much with anyone. It concerned his parents because they were scared something may have been wrong with him. It made school hard for both his parents and Stanley because Stan refused to make friends or try and hide so they couldn’t take him to school.

That all changed in second grade. A young black-haired boy with bandages everywhere stumbled up to Stan and asked if he wanted to play. At first, Stan didn’t want anything to do with the boy, however, he was very persistent and soon followed Stan everywhere. It was rather odd for Stan because he went from hating the young boy named Richie… to missing him greatly when Richie had to miss school.

Stan found himself attached to Richie despite always getting annoyed by Richie’s dumb shenanigans. Richie wasn’t just Stan’s first friend… he was the only person that could get an emotion out of Stan. The young blonde-curly-haired boy craved the feelings that Richie had given him when the other would do literally anything.  

Soon the dynamic duo because a trio when William Denbrough weaseled his way into the boys’ space… Not that Stanley really minded, but there was a part of Stan that didn’t like Bill at first. He was scared that Bill was going to take Richie away, but still, Richie was always by Stan’s side. Bill would sit on Stan’s left while Richie was on his right whenever the trio was doing anything from doing school work to outside at recess.

Then came Edward Kaspbrak at the beginning of third grade. The tiny boy was nervous about everything and hated being touched by anyone. However, when he met Bill, Richie, and Stan… his attitude changed slightly. It’s not like he wasn’t still afraid of everything… it’s just… he liked having friends with the other boys.

Stan began to distance himself from the Losers club about three years after the Pennywise incident. Not only was he abandoned by his friends, but he almost was lunch for that dumb flute playing--Off-topic. So… yeah, Stan couldn’t bring himself to be around his friends right now because everyone was dealing with nightmares… He just didn’t want to talk about his.

Stan got into depressive episodes where he wouldn’t move for any reason. His mother merely contacted the school so she could get his homework and wait out the storm. Stanley wouldn’t speak to them anymore and after the entire shit-show of his Bar Mitzvah, his dad wasn’t too keen on speaking to his son either.

“Stanley, you have some visitors.” His mother’s soothing voice called out into the dark bedroom. “It’s all your friends.” She explains, opening the door wider to allow light into the room. “Go ahead in… he’s a little… under the weather.” She explains as the losers look into the room before freezing.

Stan was a very precise person when it came to things… so seeing his room in such chaos was… concerning, to say the least.  He liked order and that’s what made him the logical mind of their rag-tag bunch of misfits.

“Stan?” Bev was the first one to speak. “What’s going on?” She asked, wanting to run her fingers through his greasy curls, but decided against it.

Stan was staring at the wall in front of him with a blank expression. He wanted to cry… He felt like he should, but there was nothing. No tears or sobbing breathes of sorrow… just a giant hole in his chest that was growing bigger. His throat tightened, making it hard to breathe as his lungs expanded to the max before shakily falling back down.

“St-St-Stan?” Bill asked.

Stan flinched at the feeling of the bed dipping towards the bottom. He knew that it was Bill but his brain was acting like a terrified animal… All he wanted to do was crawl under the bed so they couldn’t see him anymore.

“I’m here!” Richie’s loud voice boomed. “Sorry, arguing with parents.” He panted before looking to the bed as he froze. “Shit… Stan?” He rushed up as Bill moved back.

“His mom said he’s been like this for almost a week,” Mike comments softly.

“What’s going on with him? Is he sick?” Eddie asked worriedly, glancing from Bev to Bill.

“Why didn’t you talk to me, Stanny? We promised each other to always talk when we got like this.” Richie whispered as Stan’s eyes fluttered before the dull eyes slowly flickered to Richie.

Stan’s mouth opened, but nothing came from his lips.

“Wait, you know what’s wrong with him?” Ben asked before everyone looked at Richie.

“I don’t… I never fully understood what was going on with Stan. But… But we both get these episodes.” Richie explains softly before crawling onto the bed as Stan watched him. “Alright Stan the man, I’m here now. Sorry, it took me so long to realize what was happening. I knew you were fucking distancing yourself on purpose.” He huffs softly, but there were tears in his eyes.

“How do we help him?” Bev asked softly when Stan moved sluggishly before wrapping his arms around Richie and burying his face into Richie’s stomach to take in the scent of… Richie.

What the other Losers don’t know is… Stan and Richie have been dating since they were fifteen so of course, Richie’s scent would be the thing to calm him down.

“Just being here will help. We can’t physically do anything for him. So just… be here. Your presences let him know that we’re here for him.” Richie smiles softly down at Stan who hasn’t moved.

“Yuh-Yuh-You.. Have you fuh-fuh-faced this before with him?” Bill asked quietly.

“Yeah, but he’s taken care of me too. It’s just how we work. Stan calls me a pompous ass every so often and I annoy him with all my amazing jokes! But we both would drop anything when either one gets like this.” He explains. “Also this is the only time Stan likes physical contact from me so.” He shrugs with a gentle grin.

“Rich.” Stan’s voice was hoarse considering it’s been days since he spoke. He winced at the sharp stabbing pain as he looked up to the other boy.

“You need something? Water? Something to eat?” Richie immediately went into the mode he always did whenever Stan got like this.

Stan shook his head before slumping in relief at the feeling of hot, salted tears trickling down his flushed cheeks. Suddenly a sob tears from his throat as the other losers share heartbroken looks before turning back to see Stan bury his face deeper into Richie’s stomach.

“Ssh, it’s okay. You’re so fucking good, Stan. This world is a better place since you came into it… I’m a better person since you came into my life.” He explains while combing his hands through Stan’s hair. “And when you are feeling better we’re gonna go to the Quarry and I’ll let you push me in.” He grins, making the others snort gently.

Stan’s body was shaking violently as heartbreaking sobs escaped his cracked lips. He just wanted to be with Richie right now because this is the safest he’s felt in days and he didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Can someone get me a wet washcloth?” Richie asked softly, glancing up from Stan as Bev nods before taking Ben with her. “Is there anything I can do?” Eddie asked quietly to Richie.

“Maybe ask for a glass of water?” Richie offers as Bill and Mike immediately offered to go get it. “Come here, Eds.” He motioned him over when Eddie shifted nervously.

“Would--Is he gonna be okay with that?” Eddie frowns softly.

“When he’s like this… Stan likes to feel safe. So this is how I make him feel safe. Maybe talk to him? You don’t have to touch him… But just be here.” Richie comments as Eddie finally sits on the edge of the bed.

“Hey Stan, I hope you feel better soon. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry you feel this way. I hope you know that all of us are here for you.” Eddie assured, feeling his own tears form. “I know you don’t like talking about it… and I just… I wish you would. I’m so scared for you and it scares me when you stop coming around. We love you so much, Stan… Please remember that.” He begged when Stan turned to face Eddie with a broken expression.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He croaked out when Eddie shook his head.

“No, no… Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for feeling this way. Please… All I ask is that you talk to us. All of us. You’re our best friend, Stan. We aren’t the Losers club without you.” Eddie whispered as Richie grins gently.

“He’s right you know,” Richie whispered before Stan glanced back to him.

Bev and the others soon returned with the requested items as Richie stood up off the bed, causing Eddie to move so the raven-haired boy could get Stan up. Stan was slowly as he sat up, wincing at the sharp pains in his muscles before Richie helped remove his shirt.

“Let’s get you into some new clothes, huh? You think you can wash yourself up?” Richie asked, but the clouded look in Stan’s eyes told him no. “Okay, that’s okay. Here.” He thanked Bev for the small bucket and cloth before he started to scrub gently at Stan’s face.

“Is there anything we can help with?” Bev asked, leaning against the wall at the foot of Stan’s bed.

“Some new clothes, please?” Richie smiled gently when Stan’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of the cloth running down his face. “How are you feeling?” He asked quietly. He knew that these episodes always made Stan sensitive to loud noises.

“Tired.” Stan supplies as Richie nods.

“That’s okay. We can get you to sleep. First, can you drink something for me?” He took the glass from Mike before offering it out to Stan who slowly took sips from the water. “That’s it. Great, thank you.” He smiles before placing a kiss on Stan’s forehead.

“Here.” Ben offered out some new clothing as Richie glanced at the others.

“Might wanna go wait outside. He needs to completely strip down.” He explains when they all nod before going out of the room.

Eddie lingered for a moment longer, squeezing Stan’s hand before he too joined the others outside the room. It was hard to see Stan this way, but honestly, Richie knew exactly what he was doing… It was strange to see Richie so gentle and quiet in these few moments.

“There you go. All done.” Richie smiles at the sight of a redressed Stan before he threw the dirty clothing into a hamper.

“Richie… Thank you. I’m sorry you--” He was cut off by Richie’s hand on his mouth.

“None of that bullshit, Stan the man. We just had a little bump in the road. Nothing that a little tender love can’t fix.” He flashed a grin before he started to clean up the rest of Stan’s room.

“One of the… One of the scars busted open the other day. And there was so… so much blood.” Stan whispered when Richie looked up to him in shock.

“Jesus, Stan… I’m… I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you come to me?” Richie asked before Stan covered his face.

“You had finally told us that your parents were neglecting you… I… I didn’t want to burden you.” He whispered.

“Dude shut the fuck up! Oh… I’ve never been on the other side of that. Anyway--” He cuts himself off, waving his hands frantically. “You would never burden me, Stan. Never, do you hear me? I don’t give a fuck if I’m on my death bed and you just wanna tell me you stubbed your toe. Fucking tell me! Okay, I’m… I’m your best friend. Lean on me.” He bent down so he could look up at Stan.

“Okay, I… Thank you.” He whispered before glancing down at his hands. He began to pinch at the skin between his thumb and index finger. “I had a panic attack… And… And it was awful. I couldn’t function. I fell into a hole that I couldn’t get out of. It was the worst. I wanted to scream but it was like someone had my throat.” He explains before glancing up to Richie who was watching him.

“Well, looks like they don’t have a hold of your voice anymore.” He whispered before placing his hands on top of Stan’s. “You are a tough fucking cookie. Do you hear me, Staniel? The fucking toughest.” He grins warmly.

“Stay with me.” Stan tugs at him.

“You want me to let the others in first?” He asked before getting cut off by Stan’s lips against his own as he froze. “Uh… That’s a no.” He whispered before kissing him again as Stan chuckled gently.

“Yeah, you probably should. They’re worried about me.” Stan comments quietly.

“They’re worried because they care.” Richie resorts before getting up and opening the door. “Alright losers, get in here and get ready for a nap!” He glances back at Stan who rolled his eyes before laying down again.

The others trailed their way in as Richie flopped down onto Stan’s bed with Stan immediately curled up against him. Bev quirks an eyebrow before noticing that look that the two shared as she grins. Soon all the losers grabbed blankets and pillows from the closet while Richie, Stan, and Eddie shared his bed.

It was a tight squeeze with Stan smooshed in the middle… but he kind of enjoyed that.

Stan’s eyes slowly fluttered open before he noticed Richie already asleep with Stan’s head on his chest. He could feel Eddie behind him with their backs together and for the first time in a long time… he felt at peace with himself… He felt… something.

#Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris #Richie & Stanley Uris #Stozier #Soft boyfriends #Soft Richie #Depressive Episode #Richie takes care of Stanley #Stanley loves Richie #Richie loves Stanley #Established Relationship #The Losers #All the losers are supportive #Supportive Richie #Stanley tries to distance himself from the losers #but they aint having that bs #The losers love Stanley #Stanley normally feels nothing #but with Richie he does

[honestsycrets]

Pizza and Panties

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | drabble

❛ summary | after seeing his fwb upset, Hvitserk decides to pop in and pay her a visit.

❛  warnings | modern!hvitserk, fwb, reference to angst

❛ sy’s notes | this was a feel better fic for a friend <3

You weren’t technically his girl but-- yeah, you were still his fucking girl. Nothing was exclusive because fuck, open was good for both sides. As long as Hvit didn’t know who you were seeing on the side anyway. You didn’t clue him into what had happened. All he knew was that you were upset.

So he got the picture. Ditch the Thursday night homework because fuck, he had some shit to do. All he’d have to do is weasel his ass up the tree and squeeze his scrawny butt through the second-floor windows of the apartment with one quick rat-tat. There was his babygirl, peeping out the window. Most men might expect an overly concerned response, a gasp and reach for him, but you-- oh you,

“Really?” you pop the screen out the window, setting your arms over the frame of the window. He can tell its a good night when you wear those shirts with the three-quarter sleeves. Too lazy to change into an actual slip or shorts, you probably only got those cheekies under that shirt. Can you say easy access?

“My lady,” he mumbles around the stem of a rose, stubbornly set between interlocked teeth.

“Cut the shit, Hvitserk.”

He grins, flicking his backpack up to you. You stumble in catching the strap of the bag, swaying the heavy package. The branch under his feet squeaks, throwing him momentarily off-balance.

“Fucker, don’t do that! You’re gonna splat your dumbass on the pavement!”

“Grass,” Hvitserk corrects, jumping from the branch, His hand catches on the windowsill, and he easily pulls himself up to crouch on the ledge. His hand steadies himself on the brick siding, offering you a fair rose. “For my Juliet,” he cracks.

“You’re an asshole.”

You say that, but you swipe the rose from his fingers. He hops in, bouncing on his high tops and drags the window shut. He bends down, plucks the backpack up-- and throws it over his shoulder.

“If you just told Josanna you weren’t interested in her, you wouldn’t have to be hopping up trees like some crazy person.” You insist. Hvitserk slips his hand around you, spinning you playfully so. His sneakers squeak over your hardwood floors, all the way into your pristine white kitchen. You’re limp like a noodle when he spins you out, placing his backpack on the countertop.

“Then I wouldn’ see my Juliet, donning the window with the light of her ass. Cut that fuckin’ tree by the way, I had a perfect view the other day. Orange and black lingerie? Na.”

“Put down the Shakespeare, Hvit. Just because you’re majoring in--”

“C’mon, that shit works wit’ all the other bitches.”

You spin to bare him a glare. He lifts his hands up as if obliging to the subliminal message you send-- shut the fuck up. He dips back into his backpack, picking out two boxes. One reading the name of your favourite pizza parlor, with face-like sized pizza slices.

“Hard on the cheese and oil, forget the veggies.” He swirls the box around, presenting it to you as if it were a box of expensive caviar. It’s not. The large slices drip with grease, and still, you dip your fingers in to take a slice.

“What’s in the other?” you ask him, taking a bite.

Hvit sets the box down and offers the other. A deep, forest green bralette crusted with diamonds-- and a tiny strappy thong. Your eyebrows pick up-- really? You swirl your tongue around the pizza, swallowing the greasy slice.

“Rea--”

“Before you say shit,” Hvitserk grins. “It’s a feel better present.”

“Feel better?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Didn’ think I saw you all depressed on campus today?” he states. You recall the moment he meant-- at the student union. You waved him off when he offered to ditch the latest redhead and blonde. You squish the pizza slice into your mouth, playfully wiping your pizza fingers off on his shirt.

“It was nothing,” you mutter under your breath before picking up the lingerie. Sparkly, you laugh off his acknowledgment. Hvitserk slips behind you, slipping his fingers in the rim of your panties. If you didn’t want to acknowledge it--

“Shit wasn’t cheap, either. C’mon, put them on.”

“Did you just come to get a peek?” you ask curiously. As if he hadn’t come to keep you company-- and to get whatever was on your mind, off.

“No,” he cuts out, but breaks into his smile. “Maybe.”

You tippy-toe, pecking a small kiss on your lips. He flutters in his excitement, low in his belly. Kisses were usually strictly off-limits, but when he got one, he knew it would be a good damn night. Maybe it’s some sort of thank you. 

“One peek!”

One, Hvitserk pouts. That’s what you say now.

@beyond-the-ashes @queenmissfit @x-valhalla @hissouthernprincess @tierneygonzalez @alicedopey @allvikingsfanfic @rekdreams-fandom @athroatfullofglass @supernaturalvikingwhore @laughinglikenialler @ilvebeenabad @mblaqgi @neeadinghugs @gruffle1 @p8tn0lish @lol-haha-joke @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @lovelynerdytraveler @winchesterwife27 @tephi101 @therealmrshale @vikingsmania @igetcarriedawaywithyou @the-geeky-engineer @whatamood13 @strangunddurm @thethyri @peachesnpisces @ms-allenbrown @tempt-ress @isthat-tyra98 @unacceptabletatertots @deathbyarabbit

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur,  @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes(no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102,  @smokealone, @shaelyn102@laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071@daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44 @allvikingsfanfic @readsalot73 @medievalfangirl @hanhanxx @multi-fandom-fanfiction @chinduda @funmadnessandbadassvikings @atlas-of-the-world @hanhanxx @medievalfangirl

#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitserk/Reader #Hvitserk imagines #Hvitserk imagine #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings/reader #vikings x reader #vikings drabble #modern vikings

[disresemble-the-place]

So I noticed the weasels x s/o things you have been doing and here's one I have. What would each weasel do if they saw someone either insulting, harassing or possibly trying to hurt their s/o ?

I do, and i am still doing them so if anyone has requests! let me know!! I’ll try to answer this as thoroughly as possible! 

Smarty

Insulting: He will probably insult the other back so deep and vile that that person regrets being born. 

Harassing: This person will feel the cold end of a gun against their lower back and hear the advice to keep walking or else it’s going to get messy. 

Hurting: Smarty figures there is always room for a new speed bump in Toon Town. Hurt the one he loves and you’ll end up like one. 

How will he make you feel better: He will spend the rest of the day / evening trying to lift your spirits by any means necessary. Would a trip to a different country cheer you up? Pack your passport we’re leaving in an hour!

Wheezy

Insulting: He wouldn’t have to exchange words he will just walk over to you and put his hand on your shoulder, then most people are smart enough to book it. 

Harassing: Will come from behind and stuff some lit cigarettes in their mouths. See, doesn’t feel so good to be bothered without consent now does it? 

Hurting: That gun of his, isn’t just for show. He will find who they are and let him meet his Tommy. 

How will he make you feel better: He will spend a lot of time telling you that it’s not true what they said and that you should forget about lowlifes like that. You can cry on his shoulder if you want. 

Greasy

Insulting: “Got something to say, say it to me?’ While flashing a knife and with a ready insult to them. Greasy is amazing at picking out insecurities so he will cut them deep.

Harassing: He will harass them back, times ten. Someone is in your personal space, okay now they got him on his lap. Someone is catcalling you, hey he can do that too. He tries to cheer you up while also getting back a them. 

Hurting: He carries a lot of knives around. He lets you decide if it’s fatal or not. 

How will he make you feel better:  Like the others he will try to cheer you up, his method is big romantic gestures. A huge date, a bouquet of your favourite flowers delivered to you. 

Psycho:

Insulting: He would attack the person before they could finish what they were saying. And then act proud towards you and 

Harassing: He freak them out by upping his antics so they leave you alone. He will chase if he has too, so they learn not to do that ever again.

Hurting: If someone hurts the people he loves, especially the person he loves most, he will black out and whatever happens then, happens. 

How will he make you feel better:. will hold you close. Not the best with words, but a great reader of body language. 

Stupid:

Insulting: This guy is a sweetheart, you know? But his nickname is literally stupid so it takes a while for him to notice that you are being insulted. When he realises it though he will berate the other, saying how rude it is to say such things and words hurt. 

Harassing: Will grab that person’s arm with a death grip strong enough to shatter bones. 

Hurting: Uses his bat to knock them out, someone else is in charge of waking them up. Hurting the one he loves? That goes too far. Even his kindness goes out of the window. 

How will he make you feel better: Will hug you till you feel better and will escort you for weeks so it doesn’t happen again. 

#cyberneticlight #who framed roger rabbit #wfrr #toon patrol #stupid #psycho #greasy #wheezy #smart ass #tw violence