#and fill a bingo square ALL AT THE SAME TIME)

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Birthday Boy

A/N: A little something for our favorite birthday boy. Written for @fandom-free-bingo Happy birthday Tony Stark! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger! F! Reader (our reader has Falcon-like abilities and Red Wing as well)

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

Word count: 2675

Square filled: “You’re coming with me.”

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“You’ve got one on your left, Y/L/N. He’s armed. And does nine o’clock work for you?”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the last bit of Tony’s sentence and jumped into action. Disarming the Hydra soldier wasn’t a big deal for you, what was distracting was the constant commentary coming in from the snarky billionaire who was hard to push off.

It was his birthday and you were one of his closest friends, all he wanted to do was go out, party and spend time with you - meaning he wanted you to potentially hook him up with someone while he did the same for you. And then the two of you would bitch about your respective dates over breakfast the next day, laugh and get over it, like you always did.

But this time around it was different. You were finding it harder and harder to keep your feelings for the man at bay. You couldn’t remember when it all actually went from friendship to something more, maybe it was around your fifth bad date when you felt super down in the dumps, Tony had been the best listener, he always was, he just never got enough credit for it. You spoke all night, he wiped your tears and made you feel better about yourself. You felt truly seen and heard. That was when you realized what lacked in all the other boys that you had found in Tony, someone you wanted the most and someone you probably could never have.

Which is why you were avoiding spending another drunken evening with the man, you would probably end up spilling your guts and if he didn’t feel the same way, you’d be left heartbroken and you would lose a really good friend.

“Good job, Y/N. You’re a solid addition to the team, unlike Legolas over here with his carpal tunnel syndrome.”

You chuckled as you heard Clint swearing at Tony over the comms, shaking you head, you continued your way into the building to extract information. Once you were done, you stepped out and made your way over to the jet where you were met with an impatient looking Tony.

“What?”

“You haven’t answered my question. Tomorrow, you and me, out on the town? It’s my birthday in case you forgot.” his big brown eyes implored you for an answer, standing in your way until you did. Sometimes you hated how persistent he could be, and more than that the fact that you fell for those gorgeous eyes every single time.

“Well?”

“Ugh. Fine! I’ll go. But you’re paying. And you will drop me home in case I get shitfaced.” you sighed, pushing him away and towards the bathroom to change.

Now you were kind of dreading tomorrow as much as you were looking forward to celebrating with your friend.

.

“How about fishnet stockings over there? She’s got a rack that would get you googly-eyed.” you tried to avoid the disdain in your voice as you nodded at the blonde who sat at the far end of the bar.

Tony was sucking on a wedge of lemon post the shots you two had downed before he turned his gaze in the direction you were pointing at. He hummed in appreciation but did nothing about it, simply went on ordering you some more drinks.

“What?” you frowned, secretly hoping he wouldn’t approach the woman because it would break your heart but Tony wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Especially when it came to women. He just loved showing off how much he ‘didn’t have to try’.

Tony shrugged, not answering you right away, instead he pushed a drink towards you, his knee nudging yours now that he had slid closer. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with motor oil and coffee filled your nostrils, making you wish just for once you could snuggle closer to him and just revel in his scent. Pushing your luck a little, you laid your arm across his shoulder and angled your body towards him, to your surprise he pulled you closer and kissed your temple, making your little heart flutter hopelessly.

“Careful Stark, the ladies are gonna think we’re together and you might end up having an off night.” you teased.

“Tony Stark never has an off night, sweetheart. Never.” his breath fanned your cheek as he spoke, raising an eyebrow up at you just to make sure you understood his point. A tingle went down your spine as his fingers caressed the back of your neck, lightly grazing your skin.

This wasn’t good. No. Not since your feelings were on overdrive.

“Then why aren’t you going over to Fishnets? Come on, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to warm your bed.”

Tony made a face at your words, one that had you frowning because it was unusual. He never answered though.

“What about you, Y/L/N? No guy worthy enough for your attention here? I thought one of those suited up, boring businessmen would be up your alley. What do you think?”

You looked over to where Tony was pointing, the guys were certainly handsome and by the looks of it seemed quite well to do. Maybe you could go up to them, strike up a conversation and eventually go home with one, in hopes of forgetting about your crush. Yeah, you certainly needed to get laid, it had been a while.

“Alright then. I will if you will.” you finished your drink and slammed it a little hard on the table than you normally would.

“What?” Tony frowned.

“You and Fishnets. Me and Mr. Suity-man over there. We’ll see which one of us hits the jackpot.” you winked, steadying yourself before giving Tony a little shove. It was a distraction you needed. Maybe watching Tony work his charm on another woman would work in helping you get over him finally.

.

Tony felt his blood boil at the sight of the fancy-ass suited guy wrap an arm around your waist while you giggled. The woman next to him was practically throwing herself at him, not the least bit interesting when it came to conversations and was pretty much laughing at everything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. Normally he would have her back at the penthouse already, be done with before heading down to his lab and have her sent off before he had his first cup of coffee in the morning. But it was different, he had no intentions of sleeping with that woman. Or any other woman that wasn’t Y/N.

These days, he only had eyes for her. Y/N made him feel things he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Being with her made him feel like he was worth something, like he was finally being seen for who he really was. Her laugh made his heavy heart a little lighter, her presence felt like warm sunshine on a cold day.

And now he felt like he was blowing his chance with you by agreeing to this stupid bet. Catching her eye, he raised his eyebrows to ask how it was going, chuckling to himself when she made a disgusted face. That sent relief flooding through his system for some reason, at least she wasn’t going home with that stupid, tall guy.

A few moments later you both caught up at the bar for more drinks, letting out collective defeated sighs and shaking your heads.

“This pub is dull. I’m going home alone, aren’t I?” you huffed, feeling dejected and placing your head against your hand as you looked at the woman Tony was supposed to talk to, she had a sour expression on her face before she stormed off to where your potential date was. Maybe they would hit it off, you thought with a laugh.

“You and I both, Y/L/N. So? What was wrong with him?” Tony mirrored your position, eyes curious.

“Ugh. The guy wouldn’t stop yapping about football, he hates all animals and he thinks you’re just a big show-off.” You rolled your eyes, downing a glass of water in between to keep yourself hydrated.

“I mean, he’s not completely wrong,Y/N.” Tony shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s called him that, hell, he had been called worse.

“Shut up. He couldn’t be more wrong.”

Something about your tone amused him though, the way you got so defensive about him kinda made him feel proud. And intrigued him to know more.

“I mean he had the balls to say you are a pompous, arrogant jerk who does things for nobody but yourself.” You scoffed.

“It’s not like he’s ever spent months in some cave in Afghanistan and escaped, turned his whole business around and bloody well succeeded, invented a frickin 'element, saved I don’t know thousands of lives? Formed the avengers? Been the most generous man I’ve ever come across and—”

Your sentence was cut short as Tony’s lips cut you off abruptly. Was it really happening? Utterly shocked at first, you didn’t respond for a few seconds which made him stop.

“Is that why you rejected him?” He murmured, now cupping your face tenderly with his hands.

“That and the fact that he wasn’t you.” You answered honestly, your heart thudding beyond control at this point as blood rushed to your ears and cheeks, turning them warm.

“You’re the only one I want too, Y/N. Always have.”

His confession turned your insides into mush, a grin forming on your face that you couldn’t control. It was just a little hard to believe that the man you wanted also wanted you in return. The kind of stuff only dreams and romantic novels are made of.

“You’re coming with me.”

Grabbing your hand Tony guided you out of the pub. And of all the people you could go home with, you were finally going with the one person you wanted the most.

.

There was a flurry of activity once you were back at Tony’s penthouse. Clothes strewn about, giggles echoing in the empty hallway along with fervent kisses.

Once you were down to your underwear, Tony stepped back to admire your body, his gaze darkening as he saw the lacy, red lingerie you wore. It was a happy coincidence but for him, it was enough to want you in every way.

“Is this my birthday present?” He pulled you flush against his chest, turning you around so your ass grazed against his growing erection. Lips pressed against your warm skin, his hands slid lower and lower until he cupped your clothed sex to find it damp with desire.

“Maybe this is? Hmm?” His breath was hot against your ear, fingers teasing your folds over your panties before sliding them aside to feel you.

Gently tugging on his hair, you turned around in his arms and pushed him on his back until he flopped on the bed, smirking up at you as you straddled his legs.

“Eager much?”

“Very much.”

Placing a hand on his chest, you lowered yourself on top and kissed him, smiling into it when it responded with equal if not more enthusiasm. Your tongue slipped past his mouth, earning a needy grunt from the man as you moved your hips deliberately over his, teasing his clothed cock as it eagerly twitched underneath you.

“How come it took you so long to kiss me, Stark?” your tone was light but accusatory as you nipped at his ear. The way he was kissing you first made you realize you weren’t the only one longing for this to happen.

“How come it took you so long to act upon your feelings, Y/L/N?” he inquired instead, holding your hips and sitting up with you, caressing your sides gently with a faint smile playing on his lips.

You knew he’d ask you this question, you took a deep breath and decided on going with honesty, he deserved to know the truth if this was ever going to work out. Whatever ‘this’ was.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same way, Tony. I was afraid of losing you. You’re a royal pain in my ass but you’re my friend, Anthony Stark. So whatever we’re doing here, or about to do, I don’t want it to affect our friendship, okay? I’m completely fine with the whole friends with benefits situation–”

Yet again, your little ramble was cut off by Tony’s soft lips, kissing your insecurities away delicately, allowing your heart to flutter a little.

“That’s the thing, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore–, you felt like your stomach dropped, for a second you couldn’t believe what was going on before he continued, “I want to be your boyfriend, the best and only one you’ll have. You’re my ray of sunshine and I want you all to myself. That is if you’ll have me.” he blinked up at you in all sincerity, fingers fidgeting against your skin nervously as he waited.

His confession sent a thousand butterflies fluttering in your belly.

“You need to stop cutting me off like that, Stark.” you murmured with a smile as you tugged on his hair, inching your face closer to him.

“Or what?”

You hummed, pushing him back down once more and letting your hair drape around his face as you slid a hand down his torso, down past his boxers to find his length eager for you. Your touch elicited a needy moan from the man as your fingers gripped him, giving him slow, lazy strokes.

“You’re bossy, I like it.” his mouth fell open at your ministrations, his breath coming in shallow.

You didn’t take long to undress then, kissing along his chest which was littered with scars the closer look you had. Tony hadn’t felt so vulnerable and yet safe at the same time, then again he’d never been with you.

You lined yourself up against him, watching him as you sank down on his cock, letting out a content sigh as he stretched you out completely. Slow at first, you began rolling your hips against him, feeling every last inch of him as you continued to kiss, swallowing his grunts.

“You feel so good, Y/N.” Tony sighed, digging his fingers into your hips, thrusting up into you for more.

“So do you, Tony. Fuck me, please.” your needy whisper was all he needed to flip you over so you were under him, still connected. Once he had your arms pinned above your head, he didn’t stop, didn’t stop until you were a writhing mess, crying out his name as he impaled you with his cock. His brutal pace had you clenching around him in desperation, wanting release as you clung to him.

“Come for me, Y/N. Let me hear you.”

Tony’s words undid you, making your pussy spasm around his length as you gushed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You were in a haze as his end approached, pulling out in time to come all over your thighs, spurts of his cum painting your skin white as he groaned in pleasure.

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” he panted, helping you clean up before cuddling you close, frowning when all you did was hum.

“I’ve had better.” you teased, his reactions always made the joke worth it. He tickled you until you begged for mercy, out of breath as you laughed with the man, feeling a sense of contentment being with him like this. His relaxed features and demeanor suggested he felt the same.

“Oh! I completely forgot!”

“What?”

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

💛Happy Birthday to our favourite ray of sunshine, Anthony Edward Stark💛

#tony stark x reader #fandom free bingo #tony stark smut #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark x you #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #tony stark #the stark squad #mostly marvel musings #marvel fanfiction #happy birthday tony stark #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Three Rules

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: being in an abusive relationship, domestic violence, covering up bruises (nothing is ever explicit, just talked about), minor fluff at the end

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been assigned to you as a way to overcome his feelings and separate himself from the Winter Solider. You're his saving grace and maybe, he can be yours.

Squares Filled: "need a medic?" (2021) @star-spangled-bingo

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

x

The mirror above the steering wheel is so tiny but it’ll have to do since you don’t have your big mirror in your purse this time. You make sure your makeup is good enough to last the whole day, and more importantly, to keep what’s underneath hidden from everyone else. You don’t know what you’d do if people found out about your home life.

When you deem yourself okay, you grab your things and head straight to work. Your assistant, Carly, greets you with a friendly smile and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, boss!”

“Morning. Who do we have on the books today?”

“The only one is Bucky Barnes.”

“Great. Send him in as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure.”

You walk into your office and make sure everything you need for today’s session is in front of you. Bucky Barnes has only been seeing you for a couple of months so it’s still so new to either of you. You're a well-respected psychologist who had many clients, but you never thought you’d be seeing the former Winter Soldier.

You’ve heard the stories. You know what he’s done but he’s trying to atone for his mistakes. One of the important ways he’s going to do that is if you give him the chance to. He’s been respectful of you even though he’s closed off. Someone like him who experienced the torture he’s been through isn’t going to open up easily. It’s hard getting him to talk about himself but you’re hoping that if you start from before Hydra it will get him to open up to you a lot more.

His appointment is in a couple of minutes so you check yourself using your desk mirror to make sure everything still looks the same.

“Boss, Mr. Barnes is here,” Carly says through the phone intercom.

“Send him in.” The door opens and Bucky walks in with an uncertain look in his eyes. You give him a small yet friendly smile to ease his concerns. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. Please, have a seat.”

“Please, call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky.” He sits down on the couch across from your desk. “How was your week?” He shrugs in response. “Did you do anything special?”

“I spent time with Sam and his family.”

“How did that make you feel? Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” he sighs.

“Did you uphold your three rules?”

Rule #1: Don’t do anything illegal. Rule #2: Don’t hurt anyone. Rule #3: Introduce himself as James Barnes instead of Bucky, formerly the Winter Solider.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of the progress you’ve made since seeing me. Is there anything you’d like to talk about specifically that happened this week?”

“No.”

He can’t seem to look at you. He’s talking to you, that’s a plus, even though he’s only giving you one-syllable words.

“Bucky, if this is going to work, I need you to try here. I’m not asking you to write me a novel about your life. I’m asking you to give a little. Can you do that for me?” you ask in a gentle tone.

“Okay,” he sighs and looks into your eyes. “I’ll try.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky looks like he wants to cry. Anything about Steve makes him question everything about him. He left Bucky. He left everyone behind to start a life in another timeline. “This is a safe space. Everything you’re feeling is valid, Bucky. When you’re ready, I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

It takes him ten long minutes to find the courage to talk and when he does, he can’t look at you.

“What if Steve was wrong about me? I was under Hydra’s influence when we crossed paths again, and he did everything he could to save me. He even brought me to Wakanda to get that shit out of my head. What if it’s still there? What if they say those words again and I’m back to being the Winter Soldier? Sometimes I don’t think I’m worth saving.”

You want to cry for him. He is so badly damaged that it will take a long time if not the rest of his life to be okay again. He might have happy moments here and there, but those fears will always be there. You have to choose your words carefully.

“It’s hard to see the good in someone who has done bad, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Steve remembered his best friend and knew the kind of person he was. Steve remembered something in you that is still true to this day.”

“What?” he asks and looks up at you with hints of tears in his eyes.

“I see a man trying to do good, to atone for his mistakes, and I think that’s someone worth saving. Steve saw it, too.” A single tear escapes his eyes but he doesn’t wipe it away. “If you are who you think you are, you wouldn’t feel remorse for what they did to you. The fact that you do shows me that you’re more than what they put in your head. You’re trying to do good with the bad you’ve been given, and that’s not a bad person.”

You’ve made excellent progress with Bucky this session, and you think the next one is going to go by just as smoothly. He only gets an hour but you make the most of the rest of the hour.

“The same time next week?” you ask.

“I’ll see you then, Doc,” Bucky smiles and leaves your office.

With each passing session, you and Bucky form a stronger bond until he realizes he looks forward to being with you. You make his day a bit brighter but the last thing he is gonna do is tell you that. You’d never have romantic relations with a client but you can’t say the same once they no longer are your clients.

You show up to work one week dabbing makeup on your face while driving. You’re on the phone with your husband. He isn’t on speakerphone and your phone is resting in one of the cup holders, but you can still hear every word he is saying as clear as day. He is yelling that loudly at you. You forgot to do the dishes before you left for work and now he is telling you what a burden you are, how much he hates you, and that you’re useless…

…and those are the nice things.

“Baby, I was running late this morning. I’m sorry,” you sigh and pick up the phone.

“I will deal with you later,” he growls and hangs up the phone.

You’d cry but then you’d ruin your makeup, and you’re already at work. You push down your feelings about your abusive husband and walk into work. You gasp at how hot it is, and you look at your assistant who has her work jacket off.

“What is going on in here? Why is it so hot?”

“The air conditioning is broken but someone is coming to look at it later.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “How many today?”

“Three.”

“Send them through.”

You get through the first two clients with as few problems as possible but by the time Bucky comes in, you’re almost about to break. You're tired, your face is pulsing with pain, your makeup feels like cake at this point, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand sitting in the heat.

“Hi, Bucky. Please have a seat,” you greet. He sees the immediate shift in your behavior and you’ve only said six words to him. “I’d like to start this session by talking about last week. You said something about taking a trip with Sam, right? How did that go?”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Bucky, we’re here to talk about you, not me.”

Bucky has to let it go for right now but he can’t when you wipe your face to clear the sweat. You forget that you have makeup on otherwise you wouldn’t have wiped your face with your handkerchief. It’s not entirely present but Bucky knows a bruise when he sees one, and you have a dark one near your eye.

“Need a medic?”

“I’m fine. I fell.”

“I’ve fallen plenty of times. I’ve gotten hit enough times to know a bruise caused by a punch when I see one.”

“Bucky, please. Drop it. We’re not here to talk about me.”

Bucky notices you play with your wedding ring nervously whenever the spotlight is on you. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s been happening here. For your sake, he lets it go. The session is cut short due to Bucky needing to be somewhere, and you made it clear he is still getting charged the full hour whether he uses it or not. He was fine with it so you moved on with three other clients after him.

The air conditioning was fixed after the first client, so you redid your makeup in the bathroom to be more presentable. It’s late when you finish with your last client, and you curse at the time. Your husband is going to kill you if you’re late again. You gather your things and rush out of your office, but Carly stops you before you can get far.

“Listen, I’m running late, so can you--”

“The police called earlier. I told them you were with a client and they asked if you could call them back. They said it was urgent.”

“Oh, okay,” you stutter. She hands you her phone after redialing the last number called. “Hi, my name is Y/N. My assistant got a call earlier?” You hear the words they’re saying but your brain isn’t processing them. “Wait, I’m sorry, he’s what?”

“Your husband is dead, ma’am. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“How? When? I just talked to him this morning.”

“My guess is that he’s been dead for maybe four hours. He died from a severe beating and blunt-force trauma to the head.”

All you hear them saying is that you’re free. You’re finally free. No more pain. You’re not sure who killed your husband because he didn’t have a lot of enemies. Despite how he treated you, he was very charming to everyone else. He put up this facade that made him look like a saint when really, he was the devil.

When you show up to work the next week, your hair is pinned up, you have light makeup on, a nice outfit, and your heart is light. You’ve never been happier now that your husband is out of the picture. He was a wealthy man, so you got all of his money to use how you see fit. He was so horrible to you so maybe his money will bring some happiness to people when you donate a chunk to different charities.

Bucky shows up right on time, and you give him a smile when he enters your room. You look down and notice some bruising and scabs on his knuckles, and if his metal hand could scar as easily as flesh, he’d have scars there, too.

“Have a seat, Bucky.”

“You look happier.”

You chuckle in amusement. You look Carly through the small glass window who is busy taking calls for you to listen to later. You look back at Bucky who raises his eyebrows in question.

“The following conversation didn’t happen.” He nods in understanding. “My husband is dead. Someone killed him.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long five minutes.

“Did he deserve it?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Did you break rule number two?”

“I might have,” he smiles, “but I had a really good reason.”

“What reason is that?” you ask and sit back.

“There’s this woman I know, and for the first time since I met her, she actually had a genuine smile on her face… and it is gorgeous. I guess her husband didn’t know what he had when he had her.”

You smile at Bucky.

“No, he didn’t.”

x

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

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel fan fiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Shine Bright Like A Winner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: implied smut

Summary: You have your eyes set on a very expensive necklace at an auction. So does someone else. When you lose, he pays you a special visit and confesses something you've been wishing for a while now.

Square Filled: stranger for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)

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

x

Your favorite part about being rich is going to auctions and bidding for expensive things. Yes, that sounds arrogant and snobby but you have an entire wing at your house dedicated to rare and valuable items you’ve won across the world. It’s a sort of collection that you’ve been obsessed with growing. It’s the same as someone having a snow globe collection or a keychain collection. Instead of small trinkets, you’re dedicated to collecting one-of-a-kind items.

A few of your favorite pieces are a balloon animal made of steel and mirrors designed by Jeff Koons, a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO Berlinetta, and a portrait of Marilyn Monroe done by Andy Warhol. You love traveling and seeing different cultures and owning parts of that culture for yourself. 

They are nice conversation pieces.

This auction, however, has only one thing you’re interested in. Queen Marie Antoinette’s Pearl. It would make a nice addition to your valuable jewlery collection with the occasional night out with your friends. You're currently in Italy for their annual auction that’s exclusive for only the extreme wealthy. You’re sitting in your seat fanning yourself with a personal fan as you wait. People are still coming in when you notice a tall man wearing a sleek black suit.

Your eyes narrow slightly once you recognize him. Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s rich, a doctor, and so delicious looking. He’s not a doctor of medicine but that’s neither here nor there. You have fantasies of calling him doctor in the bedroom. His brown eyes lock with yours and a smirk brands his beautiful face. He sits down on the other end of the audience but in perfect view. It doesn't matter if there are other people sitting in between you. He’s tall enough for you to see him above everyone else’s heads.

The auctioneer stands on stage and begins the service. There are some good items up for grabs but nothing that catches your eyes. The auctioneer moves from the paintings, statues, and other trinkets to the jewelry section. Spencer notices you sit up a bit straighter telling him you’re interested in what’s to come. The auctioneer passes by beautiful jewels until he gets to the one you have your eye on.

“Next on our list is a very valuable, very rare necklace. Once worn and owned by none other than Queen Maria Antionette. The bidding starts at ten million dollars. Do we have any takers?”

“Ten million,” you say and raise your bidding stick.

“Ten million! Do I hear eleven?”

“Thirty million,” Spencer says and raises his stick.

You narrow your eyes at Spencer who hasn’t stopped looking at you since he saw you were interested in this.

“Fifty,” you argue.

“Sixty.”

“Eighty.”

“One hundred million.”

Are you willing to spend one hundred million on something like this? You certainly have the money but is it worth it?

“One hundred and ten million,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“One hundred and fifty million,” Spencer says immediately after.

You can’t do that. Sure, you could keep going higher since you’re a billionaire but you didn’t become a billionaire by spending your money all willy nilly. You lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other without saying anything.

“One hundred and fifty million going once,” the announcer says. “Going twice… Sold! To the gentleman in the sleek black suit!”

You’d be more upset over the loss but you’ll negotiate a price later with him. That necklace is going home with you, you know that much.

The rest of the auction goes by without a problem but your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. He kept his back turned to you the entire time but he knew your eyes were on him. Afterward, you headed back to your hotel since you’re flying back to the States the next day. Before you could get undressed for bed, someone knocks on your door. You’re still wearing your elegant dress but without shoes so the bottom of the dress drags on the ground whenever you walk.

You look through the peephole and see none other than Spencer standing on the other side. You open the door and look up at him since he’s much taller than you especially without the shoes.

“Hey, stranger. Are you here to rub it in my face that you won?”

“Turn around.”

Spencer steps inside your room forcing you to step back from him. He closes the door and you turn to face the hall mirror. He takes something out of his suit jacket pocket. You don’t see what it is until he wraps it around your neck. The necklace. Queen Marie Antionette’s Pearl. It shines brightly against your skin like it was always meant to be there.

“The necklace,” you whisper and look at him through the mirror.

“Only someone like you can pull off wearing something like this.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about that,” you smirk.

Spencer moves your hair to the side and presses soft kisses up and down your neck. He kisses up to your ear and sucks your earlobe into his mouth. You resist letting out a moan.

“You want to know what I’d really like to do now?” he whispers.

“What?”

He looks up and locks eyes with you through the mirror.

“Fuck you while you wear only this necklace.”

“What’s stopping you?” you grin.

Spencer turns you and picks you up bridal style. Suddenly, you’re not so mad at him for winning. Right now, you feel like the winner.

x

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

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fertility

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x immortal demigoddess wife reader that is the daughter of whatever god or goddess and she is not a hunter just a normal girl that make Dean and Sam immortal with her magic and everyone in the hunting community know her as Dean innocent wife and she don’t cared about that, she is pregnant with Dean baby and know she is walking to the kitchen with Dean shirt and boxer because is comfortable and perfect for her pregnancy belly and him just loved. happy ending with a lot of fluff, kisses, and possible smut. 

Summary: You want Dean to meet your mother, the Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. Only problem? She lives in Egypt and Dean hates flying.

Square Filled: Delphinium for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

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

x

Man, this Bunker really does have everything about everything. This small library has vast knowledge about virtually every single monster there is and has ever been. Some of them are extinct but it’s still good to know about them just in case. You’ve come to learn that anything can happen in the hunting life.

You flip through the pages of a lore book about Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when you come across one that makes your heart soar and a smile spreads across your face. You run your finger delicately down the page and stare at the Goddess trapped inside the book.

“Hi, mom,” you whisper.

Your mother is Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. She is the protector of women, and she does a helluva job of it. You’re a demigoddess with only half of her powers, but you’re still like her in so many ways. Not only are you immortal, but you have the power to fight well in any hand-to-hand combat, mental manipulation, and mental torture. Your mother does it a lot better than you can, but you’ve done a good job at practicing over the centuries.

She offered you a place by her side in Egypt where she currently resides but you wanted to see the world and explore it on your own. You wanted to make your own adventures instead of being the shadow in hers. It’s a damn good thing you listened to your gut because you wouldn’t have met Sam and Winchester otherwise.

The first thing you did when you came to the United States was save a woman from being attacked by a man. This man wasn’t to exert his power over her by forcing her into doing things she didn’t want to do, and you put an end to it immediately. She got her revenge just like the thousands of other women you’ve saved from having the same fate. Saving women and torturing men has gotten you this far in life and you don’t plan on stopping, not within the next few centuries, at least.

The biggest thing you gained from your Mother is the power of fertility. You can’t count how many women you’ve come across who want to have children but can’t. They don’t know how it happens, but they wake up one day and realize they’re pregnant. Your powers have only been used for good and you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

You just love bringing life into the world just like your mom.

The bar was in full swing, and you’re at the bar sipping your drink and watching everyone. You never know when someone is going to need you. There was a couple at the dart boards who were arguing over the point system. You kept an eye on them just in case you might need to jump in.

The bell above the front door rang as two people walked in. The shorter of the two made eye contact with you and it was as if time stopped. Because your mother is the Goddess of Beauty, you’re naturally flawless. Even if you’re not someone’s type, you’re beautiful to them.

“Drinking alone?” he asked when he approached you.

“Not if you sit down and drink with me,” you flirted.

“Sammy, be somewhere else,” the man said and sat next to you. The taller one rolled his eyes and left the bar counter. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N. Sammy your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Younger or older?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re older. You have that energy about you, which means you’re just my type. I like them older.”

You were not about to tell him that you were centuries older than him.

You and Dean hit it off that night and not because he took you back to his room. That night also was the night you learned they are hunters. You saw the weapons in their bags and made a deduction paired with the fact that he had an Anti-Posession Tattoo on his chest. There was no time beating around the bush so you told both of them who you were, who your mother is, and the fact that you’re immortal. Dean didn’t care so that’s how you started seeing the eldest Winchester.

You’re not a hunter. You have no desire to be a hunter. You just help people where you can but instead of monsters, it’s humans. After a few years of being with them, you made both of them immortal per their request. You don’t make anyone immortal without their consent, and the brothers had plenty of time to think if they wanted this or not. You have the ability to take it away, but the years will catch up to the person immediately. That usually means death.

Still, you’re happy with the family you’ve made and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You close the book on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses before getting up. You place a hand on your swollen belly and pat the area where you know your child can feel it. Once he gets old enough, he’ll be able to choose if he wants to be immortal or not. After he turns eighteen, of course, and you’d do it for him.

You’re wearing one of Dean’s shirts since they are so comfortable so when he sees you enter the kitchen, he grins. He even has your favorite flowers on display on the table. Such a gentleman.

“Damn, just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you walk in wearing that.”

“Good morning to you, too,” you greet. He kisses you quickly and bends down to kiss your stomach. “I want to take a trip with you.”

“Where?”

“I want you to meet my mother.”

“You want me to meet an Egyptian Goddess?”

“Yeah. She’s really sweet. I think you’d love her, and I know she’d love you.”

“I guess that’ll be okay.”

“We have to fly there. She’s in Egypt, naturally.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Are you sure? I know you hate flying.” He nods without saying anything, and you grab his face so he’s forced to look at you. “I can ask her to come here, but I don’t think she’ll take well to leaving Egypt. She has her own business that she won’t part from.”

“I’ll be okay.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly.

“I’d like to go before I get too pregnant to fly.”

The gears in Dean’s head turn as he thinks of a solution that will benefit you both.

“Why don’t we visit her until after the baby is born? That way she can meet him, too.”

“You just don’t want to fly. You’re pushing this as far as you can, aren’t you?” you chuckle.

“Sweetheart, I can’t help it. They’re dangerous.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?”

You leave his side and sit down at the kitchen table so he can finish cooking in peace.

“I promise we can go after he is born. I really would love to meet the woman who made you.”

“Maybe afterward, we can meet your mom!” you gasp. “I can get us into Heaven. I know a God.”

“One parent at a time,” Dean chuckles and plates the food.

x

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

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

[gamma-rae-bursts]

The Ex Factor

Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader

Your ex girlfriend starts working at Abbott as Melissa’s new teachers aide.

Content Warnings: past abusive relationship, mentions of trauma, cheating, manipulative and toxic ex.

Genre: hurt/comfort, some fluff

Word count: 3.6k+

A/N: this one got a little out of hand ngl, i hope you like it tho! covers a square of my bingo. Kinda unedited.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, the soft rays of sunshine lighting up the room as you reach to your phone attempting to stop the dreadful tune. A hint of sadness flickered within you as you glanced to the other side of the bed, feeling the cold emitting from it hinting that Melissa has been gone for quite some time now. 

You reluctantly left the warmth and comfort of your sheets, the cold air hovering over your exposed skin as you slowly stood up. You reached for your robe, pulling it onto your body to shield it from the morning breeze. Your bedroom was always cold, Melissa had a terrible habit of leaving the window open throughout the night, no matter what time of the year it was. She always claimed it helped her sleep better and you didn’t complain, just another excuse to snuggle up closer to your girlfriend, seeking the warmth of her body.

Just as you started heading downstairs the sounds of Melissa clattering around the kitchen filled your ears, the clicking of the plates combined with clanging of pans in a typical for her manner. You continued to walk down the staircase, stopping in at the kitchen door to take in the sight of the redhead in her element. 

A slight worry overtook you as you saw the distress painted across your girlfriend’s face, she didn’t even notice you at the door, too preoccupied with whatever she had cooking on her stove. Putting in all the effort at making sure everything she served you for breakfast was perfect, hoping that would relieve some stress she was under while she was teaching two grades at the same time.

“Good Morning” you said through a yawn, standing in the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Mornin’ hon.” The redhead replied as she kept her attention focused on the pancakes frying in the pan. “You’re up early today.” 

“The bed was cold without you in it.” You replied with a pout on your lips.

“Couldn’t sleep, sorry I woke you up, you can go back to sleep if you want, I’ll put the food in some containers so you can have it a bit later.” Melissa shrugged. You always started work later than Melissa, most of the time opting for getting a bit of extra sleep when she was getting ready for work.

“You didn’t and I couldn’t miss out on a morning with my favourite girl, could I?”

“Please, I’m hardly a girl anymore.” She replied with a sigh, her gaze still focused on the stove.

You took a few steps in her direction, wrapping your arms around her as your head rested on the back of her shoulder “Oh but you are my girl, aren’t you?” you said, kissing her neck.

“Mhm” the woman chuckled softly, turning her head to leave a kiss on your head. “the pancakes will be ready in a few minutes; would you mind setting the table?” 

“On it, boss.” You replied with a sarcastic salute and did as she asked, taking all the necessary dishes and cutlery to the table. You made your way back to the kitchen to take the bowls filled with delicious looking toppings that Melissa prepared earlier, leaving a quick kiss on her cheek as you were heading into the dining room. 

It didn’t take long for the redhead to join you with a plate full of delicious looking pancakes, every single one made to perfection. You eagerly reached for them, taking a few onto your plate.  You topped half of them with maple syrup and butter and the rest, much to Melissa’s distaste, with lemon juice and sugar.  

“You’re a degenerate, you know that right?” she said side-eyeing your pancakes.

You playfully rolled your eyes at her comment “Stop it, I like them like that!”

She just chuckled and shook her head, you always told her the lemon and sugar combination reminded you of the year you spent on an exchange in England, but despite that she didn’t let up on teasing you about your choice of pancake toppings.

The rest of the meal passed in comfortable silence. When the two of you finished eating, you got to cleaning the dishes and Melissa went on to get ready for the workday ahead of her. She returned roughly half an hour later, wearing her leather pants and a pink top she knew you loved on her, which also gave her a little confidence boost she felt she could use today. 

Just as Melissa was leaving the house, you shouted back to her, running up to the woman with a Tupperware container in your hand, she had a habit forgetting her lunch and getting all snappy when she had to order it instead of having her own food. You kissed her once more before she got into her car and left for work.

***

Melissa got to Abbott Elementary with 20 minutes to spare, she decided to head to the teachers’ lounge but before she could make her way down the hallway, she heard her name being called from Ava’s office. 

“Schemmenti!” the woman exclaimed “C’mere, got a surprise for you.”

She rolled her eyes and turned around, taking a few steps towards the principal’s office. “What do you want Ava, I’m not in the mood for you trying to sell me any of your face masks or whatever that was.”

“What? No! That was last week, I’m selling foot massagers now.” The taller woman pointed at a stack of boxes stashed in the corner of her office. 

“Is this why you called me here?” the redhead sighed, visibly annoyed at her boss trying to sell her new useless products at any given occasion.

“I got you a teacher’s aide!” Ava finally exclaimed.

“I told you I don’t wan-… Wait? Say it again? A teacher’s aide?” the redhead said in disbelief. She did request one what seemed like months ago (in reality, it was just last week, but with teaching the two grades Melissa completely lost the track of time). 

“The one you requested duh! She’s gonna be here any minute.” Ava said, looking extremely proud of herself for actually doing what her job required her to. “Her name is Abigail; I’ll direct her to your classroom when she gets here.”

“Thanks Ava!” Melissa said as she left the principals office. 

Her new aide arrived just a few minutes later, confidently entering the classroom. “Is this Miss Schemmenti’s room?” she asked. She was just a little taller than Melissa, younger, but according to Melissa “not a kid”. The woman had dark hazel eyes and long brown hair, tied up in a ponytail.

“Yeah, you must be Abigail.” The redhead replied, greeting the girl.

“Abby is fine” she smiled as she shook the redhead’s hand.

The two of them got talking, despite Melissa’s usual apprehension towards the younger teachers, she got along with Abby just fine, the younger woman was a huge help in her classroom and even if it was just for that, she was willing to put up with some rookie TA in her classroom. But aside from this, the girl seemed competent enough to know how to handle third graders and not step on Melissa’s toes whilst doing her job.

***

You got home from work a little later than usual, being stuck in a corporate meeting that, in your opinion (as well as many other co-workers), could have been an email. You entered the house you shared with Melissa, ridding of your outerwear you moved to the living room. The redhead was sat of her couch, absorbed into her current read. She lifted her head with a smile when she saw you, immediately standing up from her seat and making her way towards you.

“Hey hon!” she cheerfully exclaimed, greeting you with a kiss, which you gladly reciprocated, relieved to see her in a way better mood than she was in the morning.

“Someone’s in a good mood” you said smiling at her “I assume the little demons were behaving today?”

“Even better than that, Ava got me an aide.” She smiled and you immediately cheered at the news. You knew this would be a huge relief to your girlfriend, not having to constantly worry how to handle the extra kids in her classroom while simultaneously teaching both sets of kids.

“That’s amazing Mel!” the relief was visible on her face, as well as her whole body, you could immediately tell she was more relaxes than during the past weeks.

“C’mon, I ordered our favourite takeout” she said reaching for your hand “we can just have the rest of the evening to ourselves, seen as I don’t have to make two separate lesson plans anymore”

After enjoying the food, combined with Melissa telling you about her say, the fact that the new aide seemed competent enough and that she didn’t even get the urge to hit her with the baseball bat she had stashed under her desk, you spent the rest of the evening trying to watch a TV show you started a few weeks prior. Trying meant that Melissa had to pause it roughly every 5 minutes for your rants on how inaccurate the details portrayed there actually were. She always laughed at your frustration with the writing and how quickly you could tear apart the aspects that would never even cross her mins. In your defence, the correct information was not that hard to look up after all.

***

You woke up to Melissa running around the house in a frantic manner, you looked at the time and it showed 7:25, way past the time the redhead usually leaves for work. You dragged yourself out of the bed, catching her right when she was at the door, leaving a kiss on her cheek before she rushed off to her car.

Just as you made your way to the kitchen you spotted a Tupperware container sat on top of the island, laughing to yourself at the thought of Melissa forgetting her lunch once again.

You made a plan for the day, it was your day off, so it mostly consisted of doing some house chores and taking the food down to Abbott for your girlfriend to enjoy during her lunch break. 

The few hours passed faster than you thought and before you knew it, it was time for you to leave, after all you couldn’t risk missing the allocated slot and leave your girlfriend starving and stuck with school food. 

The drive to the elementary school wasn’t long, fortunately (for you) you passed a Starbucks on you way there, making a stop to pick up a few drinks, one for you to keep your caffeine levels on the higher end throughout the day and one for Melissa, to do the exact opposite, provide the taste of coffee without the zoomies attached. You went through the drive through to gat said drinks and continued on your drive.

The cold air hit you as soon as you got out of your car, the weather today was chilly, but the sun provided some warmth as it was shining through the clouds. You grabbed your bag and the coffee cups, proceeding to walk in the direction of the entrance of the school.

You swiftly made your way through the hallways, always examining the emptiness of the walls at Abbott. You got to the end of the hallway, ready to enter your girlfriends classroom.

“Hey Mel, you forgot your lunch again I thought I’d bring it for you,” you said with a smile as you entered the room. The smile immediately faded from your face when you saw it wasn’t your girlfriend sat at the desk, but the woman you wished to never see again. “Abby? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could as you the same question” she said with a smirk “Missed me so much you had to track down where I work?”

“What do you mean work? You’re not saying you’re Melissa’s new aide, right?”

Before you could ger an answer to the question, Melissa walked right through the door, a smile appearing on her face when she saw you in the room.

“Hey hon, what are you doing here?” 

“Oh um, you forgot your lunch, I thought I’d bring it for you” you said passing her the container as well as her coffee. 

“You’re a godsend.” She said as she kissed your cheek, gratefully accepting the food. “This is my new aide, Abby, you could stay so we have the lunch together?”

“Oh I actually have to go, have a few errands to run, I’ll see you at home tho.” You quickly added before rushing out of the classroom.

***

When you got back home you tried to occupy your head with anything and everything in order to distract yourself from the fact that Melissa’s new aide was your ex-girlfriend. The way the two of you split your ways didn’t make things any better, causing you to spiral in your thoughts of what this whole ordeal meant. 

You knew you were being paranoid, the thoughts telling you that she would take Melissa away from you the same way she took all your friends when you split were irrational and completely insane. But you went through it once and you knew how manipulative and persuasive Abby could be. 

The reason you broke up with her was her cheating on you throughout the whole length of your relationship. You’ve had many attempts at leaving her, but each time she managed to talk you back into staying, saying you’d be nothing without her.

And for the longest time, you believed it. Your breaking point was finding her in your bed with one of your best friends. You kicked her out after that, but she didn’t go down without making a whole scene you were sure the whole neighbourhood could hear. Making a promise that you’d regret it. And you did, more or less. She managed to turn your whole friend group against you, painting this portrait of you being the manipulative and toxic asshole that tried to control her whole life, which left you with nobody to turn to.

The sound of the Melissa’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, now realising you were gone for longer than you thought. 

“Hon, what’s wrong?” she questioned with a concerned look on her face.

“Nothing.” You smiled at her. “Why would anything be wrong?”

“Well for starters, I’ve asked you that question 3 times before you replied.” You felt the couch you were sat on dip a little under her weight, as she took a seat right next to you, placing her hand on your thigh.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” 

“Care to share?” she raised her brow. You took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh before turning your head to face her.

”Abby is my ex.” You sighed again, this time tensing your shoulders. “The ex I told you about before. I guess seeing her today brought some memories back, memories I’d rather not think about.” Melissa’s eyes widened at the statement. She knew exactly which one you meant and just how broken the relationship with her left you. She pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms around your body, placing you in a comfortable and safe embrace. 

The topic remained persistent throughout following conversations, each time ending in Melissa reassuring you just how much she loved you and promising that she was not going anywhere. She allowed you to cry your feelings out, making sure to hold you all throughout it until you were so exhausted you fell asleep on her during a movie she put on.

***

A morning shift meant you found yourself extremely bored during the evening, you deep cleaned the house as well as baked some of Melissa’s favourite cookies. You were trying to come up with more stuff to occupy yourself with when you remembered it was another parents evening at Abbott, meaning your girlfriend wouldn’t be back home for the next few hours. 

Melissa always complained how boring those things got, most times no parents came to see her, so she would just spend the whole evening sitting in her classroom, and there were definitely much better uses of her time. After finishing off the cookies and leaving them to cool down on the kitchen counter, you decided to get ready and join Melissa at school, you knew other teachers would sometimes bring their family or friends to at least get some quality time from the otherwise dull evenings. 

You put a minimal amount of makeup on, just some eyeliner and mascara, as well as some casual, but not too casual clothes before you left your house and drove to the school.

When you arrived at Abbott it was starting to get dark outside. The setting sun painted the clouds were with pink and orange that blended beautifully with the blue sky behind them. You walked into the school, making your way down the corridor and greeting all the other teachers on your way. You stopped for a little chat with Barbara, the older woman telling you about a new restaurant her and Gerald went to recently. You made a mental note of the name, as you were sure it was also right up Melissa’s alley. When a parent approached the two of you, you bid Barbara a quick goodbye, promising to catch up more in the future before you continued walking further down the hallway right to Melissa’s classroom. You heard muttered voices coming from behind the not fully closed door, figuring it would be her and another teacher you decided to come in regardless.

“Hey! I thought I’d come round so you-“ you stopped in your tracks before you could fully enter the room. Melissa was perched at the edge of her desk with Abby’s hand, what seemed to be cupping her cheek. “Melissa what the fuck?”

“You wouldn’t by chance believe me if I said this is not what it looks like?” Melissa said, horrified at your sight in her classroom. It was, indeed, not what it looked like.

You stood in the doorframe, eyes wide, not being able to comprehend what you just saw. There was no way Melissa would do that to you, right? Not after everything you told her, and definitely not after the promise she made just a few days prior. 

“Oh, fuck you, both of you.” You turned back around, leaving the room in a hurry before the redhead could get a chance to explain what actually happened.

Melissa was left in the room, trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation. She wanted to follow you but was stopped by Abby, who grabbed her hand in an attempt to prevent her from running after you. The satisfied smile was very prominent on the aide’s face, which made Melissa’s blood boil.

“The hell are you doing?” the redhead shot back at the younger woman.

“Oh, come on, she’s not worth it.” The giggle that followed the sentence further angering her. Abby did not loosen her grip on Melissa’s wrist, trying to pull the older woman closer to her body, almost leaning against her. “We could just stay here and give her a real reason to be angry.” 

The teacher snatched her hand out of the other woman’s grip, turning to face her. “You must be joking right?” she almost couldn’t believe what she heard, but the expression on Abby’s face made it clear she was completely serious. “I think I’d rather put a campfire out with my face.” She hissed, turning around to follow you. 

By the time Melissa made her way out of the school you were nowhere to be seen. There were still a few hours until the end of the parents evening. She sent a quick text to Ava, stating her early departure was caused by a family emergency, before getting into her car and driving home, hoping to find you there. 

Fortunately for her, Ava replied quickly saying she would inform any potential parents that could come to see her of the situation and set a new date for the meeting.

When Melissa got home, she heard shuffling that came from your shared bedroom, making her way to the room as quickly as she could. You were sat on your bed with your face buried in your hands. 

“Y/n, hon” a barely audible whisper accompanied with a gentle sigh left her lips. “It really wasn’t what you’re thinking.”

“Then please enlighten me what it was, Melissa” you didn’t look up, not sure if you were ready to face her without bursting into tears.

“She said my eyeliner was smudged. I said I’ll get it but before I could even reach for the tissue, she reached out to wipe it herself.”

“Well it certainly didn’t look like you were opposed to it.” you sighed, this time lifting your head to look up at her. Your eyeliner was smudged, the mascara forming dark pathways down your face. 

“Tesoro” this was another hit for her, she never wanted to be the reason you cried. “I didn’t even had time to react before you came into the room, you know I would never do that to you.”

“I know, it’s just… I’m scared, that’s it”

“Hey,” she lifted her hand to cup your cheek “I’m not her. I would never do anything to purposefully hurt you in any way, hell I’d kill anyone that tried to! You know I know a guy that could help me get rid of a body if needed.” You laughed at that; she did indeed have a guy for everything.

“Promise?” your whisper was quiet as you looked into her green eyes also filled with tears.

“I promise. I love you, only you.”

Taglist:

@nightmarish-fae @storiesofsvu @maybe-a-humanbean @geekyandgay98 @opheliauniverse @lisaannwalterstan @bratty-subby-girly @esposadejoyhuerta

join my taglist here!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #raeswritingbingo #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Spring in Fall

Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.

If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.

Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.

He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.

The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.

Then why was he so on edge?

“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.

“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.

Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.

Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.

“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.

“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.

“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”

Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.

“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.

“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”

Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.

“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”

“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.

As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.

He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.

Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.

“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.

“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.

“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.

“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N���ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.

“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.

“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.

“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.

“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.

“Smell what?” Rich asked.

“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.

The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.

Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.

“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.

“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.

“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”

Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.

“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.

“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.

“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.

It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.

Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.

“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.

“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.

“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.

“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.

Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.

Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.

“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.

“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.

“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.

“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.

Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.

Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.

“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.

“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#jacklesversebingo #spring in fall #omegaverse #alpha!jensen ackles x omega!female reader #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen ackles fluff #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #a/b/o

[honeybeefae]

enemies to lovers with Az 😩

Behind The Masks (Azriel x Reader)

BINGO: Enemies to Lovers

(This is the SFW version but I’m sure I’ll write a continuation of this for the NSFW prompt bc this was requested so much! If you want a part 2…I left it on a cliffhanger for a reason. *wink wink*. I hope you guys enjoy!!)

WARNINGS: Slight angst

“Does everyone have what they need?” Rhysand asked your group, looking at everyone individually as you all nodded. “I know this isn’t ideally how we would spend a weekend but it must be done.”

“I have no problem using my Saturday to dance with this beautiful woman.” Cassian grinned, tugging Nesta to his side who just rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Isn’t that right, Az?”

You grimaced when the Shadowsinger looked down at you with disdain. For whatever reason, despite your history of hating each other, Rhysand and Feyre had paired the two of you together for the Masquerade Ball tonight in the Court of Nightmares. 

Normally Mor would be taking your place but she was off doing something else so if you hadn’t coupled up, you both would’ve been the odd two out. It made sense logically but neither of you was very happy about it.

“Let’s just get tonight over with.” Azriel responded cooly, squaring his shoulders and gripping his mask tightly in his fists. You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Right because I’m the bad company.” You snarked, crossing your arms. Feyre gave you a sympathetic look but you avoided her gaze, motioning to the door. “Can we just leave?”

“Please.” Rhysand said, wanting to diffuse the tension as they winnowed. Cassian lifted Nesta into his arms and stepped outside, taking off into the night as you reluctantly did the same with Azriel. He barely looked at you as he followed suit, his jaw tight as you all headed to the mountain.

—--------------------------

The party was in full swing, everyone dawning masks of various shapes and colors, and you found yourself being spun around for the fifth time that night. Azriel had abandoned you as soon as the music started but you didn’t really care, choosing to enjoy the night as best as you could.

You drank and ate with Nesta, sneering at some of the court ladies who turned up their noses at you both. Desperation reeked off of them, just like the rest of the court, as they took every chance they could to grab for power or put others down. 

“Azriel isn’t keeping up with his part of the plan,” Nesta noted, sipping her wine while watching you frown. “Do you even know why he acts like this towards you? How long has this childish tantrum been going on?”

“Since we meet.” You replied, downing the rest of your glass. “I did something to piss him off, questioned his authority or some petty shit, and I guess that was the end of our relationship. Not that I care.”

“Mhm.” She nodded though she doubted you were telling the truth. “Maybe he wants something else, someone else if you catch my meaning.”

Your eyebrows rose as you gawked at her, shaking your head furiously. “Absolutely not. One, I’m not his type. Two, never in a million, billion years.”

“You’d be surprised how fast that time passes.” Nesta said coyly, placing her glass down and walking away before you could argue. You looked around once more, not even seeing the Shadowsinger, before reaching for another glass. 

A large, scarred hand stopped you before you could grab it. You scowled, following the arm until you were looking into the hazel eyes of a man you hated. “What are you doing?”

“I think you’ve had enough.” He stated lowly. “Surely you don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself. Though, now that I say that, I’m sure you would like the attention.”

Red, hot anger filled your veins at his casual insult, and you gave him a middle finger, spinning on your heel to go find somewhere else to be until he grabbed you roughly and spun you back into his arms.

Before you could blink he had you in the middle of the dance floor, your chest pressed against his while his hand rested on the small of your bare back. You struggled against him but that only made him tighten his grip. 

“You’re making a scene.” He whispered through gritted teeth, a black mask concealing half of his face. “Get it together.”

“Since when do you care?” You spat, not even hiding your distaste as you circled the ballroom. “I thought you wanted to get tonight over with. If I cause a scene surely that helps your problem with me.”

“I do not have a problem with you.” Azriel rolled his eyes. 

“Oh is that what a friendship is with you then? Brooding stares, snide comments, and constant patronizing?” You reply sarcastically, your own mask doing little to conceal your feelings. “Boy, I must be your best friend.”

“Are you always this insufferable? No wonder you haven’t bedded anyone in months.” He snarks, almost tripping over his own feet when you stopped suddenly. The other couples around you stopped as well, all of them eager to see what drama was unfolding, but you didn’t want to give them anything to use against you. 

“I hate you.” You swore, tears welling up in your eyes as you ripped your hands out of his grasp and stormed out of the ballroom, brushing off Nesta’s hand as she tried to stop you.

The air around you felt too hot, too heavy as you started running down the hallways while holding the skirts of your dress. Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks as you ripped off your masks, not caring that some people were staring and laughing at your misery. You didn’t stop running until you reached your room in the Court of Nightmares, slamming it shut behind you as hard as you could.

You went over to the mirror and looked at yourself, looked at the smeared mascara, and hated how he had gotten to you. All this time, after living with this for years, never once had you shown him how much the things he said affected you. It would only make things worse. 

And yet here you were, causing a dramatic scene in the worst place possible with the worst person possible. You truly were pathetic.

Knock. Knock.

Immediately you knew it was Azriel. Rhys had probably sent him for damage control, forcing him to swallow his pride to apologize. You refused to answer.

“I know you’re in there. Open the door.” His voice was cold.

Silence was all he got. You heard him shift his feet in frustration.

“If you don’t open the door I’ll break it open myself. For once just listen to me.” He huffed, though his tone turned soft towards the end. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath, staring at the engraved wood.

“Fuck off.” You replied sweetly, flipping off the door and turning to walk to the bathroom. There was barely enough time to wince when the door creaked under the weight of his shoulder before he barged in, a scowl settled deep on his face.

“I’m trying to talk to you.” He said while kicking the door back closed with the heel of his shoe. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why can’t you seem to take a hint?” You jabbed, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “I don’t want to talk to you. I know that might be hard for your tiny brain to comprehend but I think you got all your feelings out with that comment in the ballroom. Now, as I said earlier, fuck off.”

“Can’t take the heat?” Azriel taunted, stepping closer to you while ignoring everything you had just said. “I expected more resilience from you, more bite.”

You didn’t even think about it when your hand came up to slap him, gasping when his own hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped it inches from his face. You struggled to follow through, barely able to move his arm, as his smirk grew tenfold.

“Let. Me. Go.” You ordered, rage making the edges of your vision red. There was something else in the atmosphere, something that would be extremely dangerous if you gave it any attention. 

“Or what?”

You were chest to chest with him, your head tilted up to glare at him as he raised a mocking brow. The urge to wipe that stupid smirk off his face was growing like an inferno.

“You’re such a stupid, barbaric Illy-” You began to spit until his mouth crashed against yours, silencing the rest of your sentence as you stood there in shock. He immediately swiped his tongue along your lips and you didn’t fight him, didn’t breathe until you felt a fresh, hot wave of arousal swirl with your anger.

It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. The answer to all your secret desires while also opening up questions to everything you once knew as the truth. You felt yourself spiraling and the only thing connecting you to reality was Azriel’s soft, hungry lips.

And you wanted more.

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar fic #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel x reader #azirel x reader acotar #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x you #acotar bingo #azriel acotar #azriel fic #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar azriel #enemies to lovers

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

Best Friends on paper 📮

Summary: You've been matched up with a pen pal through a website, but what is merely an outlet for you and a confidant to tell your secrets to, is something completely different for him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader (hinted at short!Reader too)

(No use of descriptive words for Reader's appearance. If you do stumble across one, please let me know and I'll immediately find a more inclusive alternative)

Warnings: 18+, non-con (touching, fingering), kidnapping of sorts, deranged Steve Rogers, manipulation, forced relationship, obsession and obsessive baheviour

Word count: 2k

Author's note: My second entry for @the-slumberparty's BINGO challenge! The squares I filled this time are "Pen pals", "Campfire", "Beach day" and "Brainwashing"

We love us some deranged, obsessed Steve Rogers and when I read the Pen Pal square, I knew we needed Mister Old-fashioned to make an appearance! Have fun reading this one ;D

...

“You said you loved me. You did. Stop struggling,” Steve grunts into you ear, his hand firmly planted over your mouth as he drags your flailing form further away from your group of friends.

Your kicking and muffled protests don't deter him, his hulking frame dwarfing yours easily, allowing him to effortlessly man-handle you as he pleases.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It's just me, just Steve. I'm your friend, remember?” the man husks, his hot breath dampening the back of your neck.

Your shake your head as best as you can, your mind spinning with the disorientating events crashing down on your.

“You're not my friend,” you try to say, but it only comes out as stifled mumbling from behind the gigantic paw covering up half your face to keep you quiet.

This isn't Steve, it can't be. Steve is nice, sweet. He'd been matched to you on a random pen pal website you signed up on out of boredom, the two of you hitting it off quickly and building a nice bond through the letters you sent each other regularly.

It's a little old-timey, but you enjoyed writing Steve letters. He even included a picture of himself in one of them and you did the same in return.

But this brute behind you, that is not the man from the picture.

Steve is short, a little skinny, and his hair has a pretty shade of blond and his smile is infectious.

The man stealing you away from the roaring fire burning by the shore, your friends still scattered around it in small groups, is not short or skinny.

He is dragging your jerking body through the sand, your feet uselessly slipping on the little grains of sand while you watch the camp fire grow smaller, the flickering flames no longer illuminating the ground around you, its warmth too far to comfort you.

Before you know what is happening, you're hauled up a slippery dune, now finally out of sight for all your friends or any by-passers as you're shoved down the other side.

There, in between dunes and bushes, sits a picnic blanket, small lanterns standing on two corners of it that light up the space.

“It's me, Steve. I did all this for you. You always said you wanted to have a picnic by the beach and spend the night outside looking at the stars. I remember it. You said it in one of your first letters you sent to me,” the man babbles, his tone so urgent he sounds almost possessed.

His words are what concerns you though, not how he says them. Because it's the truth. You'd told your pen pal Steve about wanting to spend a night at the beach to watch the stars, had laid out the whole romantic fantasy you dreamed of on lonely nights.

You reach the blanket and the hand on your face loosens. You're spun around to face your kidnapper and when you instinctively lift your head to stare up at the man's face, your heart sinks.

“Hi, sweetheart. I knew you'd recognise me,” Steve says with a wide smile, his white teeth glinting in the low light of the lanterns around you.

You're petrified. This man does look like Steve. But he's bigger, stronger. And this big, scary man knows all your deepest secrets and desires.

You've told Steve everything, because what could be the harm in it? He's always been states away, just a picture you keep in your desk drawer and ink-soaked pieces of paper. You never thought there would be any harm in confiding in him.

Well, you were wrong.

“You- You..” stammer and stare up at him. “You look different.”

Steve grins and shrugs as if he didn't look like he could easily break you in half as opposed to the skinny boy he's sent you a picture of.

“You too. Better, so much better in person. God, you're beautiful. Come here,” he says and without warning moves his hands from your arms where he was holding you still to your face and swoops in for a forceful kiss.

You let out a startled sound and jerk your hands up to push at him, but he doesn't budge, hips lips firmly pressed to yours, tongue poking at them as he tries to gain entrance.

Your muffled protests make him stop eventually, his face pulled into a frown as he pulls his head away to peer down at you.

“What is wrong? You said you loved me, sweetheart. I came all the way to surprise you, I prepared this night. It needs to be perfect, so play along! It's your fantasy after all,” he says, an edge to his voice as he scowls down at you.

“I- I... Steve, I don't love you, I don't even know you, I-”

“Stop! You know me, we've been writing letters for months. I know what you like and what you dream of for your future. I know your favourite food and colour. I said I love you and you said it back! You wrote it in our letters, you did!” Steve shouts, his face reddening with agitation.

You take a step back, now positively terrified of the deranged man before you. How could he be the same person who's been writing you fro almost a year now?

“Sit down, come on, sit. We're going to enjoy this night, I made it perfect for you,” he says, quieter now, but still obviously displeased by your resistance.

Not daring to disobey and upset this crazy man, you let Steve push you down on the blanket. He sits down next to you and then forces you to recline into a laying position. He lies down as well and then grabs your hand, his fingers forcing your clenched ones apart to hold them.

You lie there, heart beating wildly and wide eyes staring at the night sky, the stars twinkling back at you as they watch the situation unfold.

“Isn't this nice? Good thing the sky is clear. I've been waiting for the weather to clear up and tonight is just perfect for our first night together. The first of many,” Steve swoons beside you, his deep voice floating around you.

Your hand hangs limply in his as you try to get a grip on your situation.

All you wanted was to spend a day at the beach with your friends. You had brought food and snacks for the whole day and enough wood to keep your camp fire going through the night.

But that is forgotten now, your friends too far away to help or hear you and this psycho beside you instead of someone else, someone you knew.

“You're so beautiful, baby. I looked at your picture every day, wondering how soft your skin would be under my fingertips, what you would smell like, taste like...” Steve rumbles beside you, his head turned to look at you, warm breath ghosting over your cheek.

You swallow, stiff as a board and terrified of the meaning of his words.

“Will you let me find out, sweetheart? You will, won't you? I know you want to,” he says, his hand letting go of yours as he shifts up onto his elbow to stare down at you.

When you don't answer, too scared to say no and not wanting to say yes, he lets out a huff.

“Playing hard to get? Let me convince you...”

You don't have time to react, Steve's frame moving with a speed that should be impossible for someone so big, slotting between your legs with a shove of his hips.

He widens his thighs as he kneels between yours, pushing them further apart when you jerk away and try to close them.

“No! Steve, stop. No, no, no-” You start to chant, hands slapping at every bit of him that you can reach as some sort of survival instinct kicks in.

“Stop pretending you don't want this! I know everything about you, you told me. I know you want this, I know, I know, I know,” he barks, repeating himself over and over as if he's trying to convince you.

Grabbing your flailing hands in one of his, he gets to work on ripping off your swim clothes, the thin fabric stretching and ripping underneath his violent hand until it's gone and your body is bared to his eyes.

“Pleeease, no,” you sob out, legs kicking on either side of his, hands fighting in his grip to cover yourself, but he doesn't budge.

“Shhhh, you'll like it, sweetheart. I'm good at this, I promise,” he shushes you, his words of affirmation doing nothing to quell the horror and shame of being naked and at the mercy of this lunatic.

You squeak when he reaches down and easily finds your clit, spit-wet finger getting to work and drawing tight circles around the little nub while you squirm and whine beneath him.

But there's no getting away and you have no choice but to endure his patient rubbing and circling, forced to witness your body's surrender that comes in the form of thick slick collecting at your entrance.

Shame boils hot in your gut and when Steve lets go of your hands in favour of kneading your breasts, you hide behind your sweaty palms. You can't look at him, you won't.

“There we go, your body knows what you need, baby. Look at that pretty little pussy getting nice and wet for me,” Steve mumbles appraisingly, finger abandoning your clit in favour of exploring further down.

He pushes one thick finger inside your pussy, the digit easily slipping in. It's quickly followed by another and he twists his hand to rest the heel of it on your clit.

“So tight, hmm. Made for me,” Steve mumbles to himself, eyes fixated on where he's sinking his digits into you.

He starts fingering you, fingers pushing in and out of you, his hand grinding into your clit harder and harder the faster he goes.

You can't hide the noises he pulls from you, wet squelching and helpless moans alike ringing out around you.

The familiar hot tension in your gut rises and your hands slap down on the blanket beside you, fingers fisting the fabric when Steve angles his fingers just so, rubbing that spot inside you that sends tingles of pleasure shooting down your legs and up your back.

“Come on, come for me. I know you need it, your little pussy is clenching down on my big fingers. Feels good, doesn't it?” he eggs you on, hand speeding up and finally tipping you over that edge.

“There we go, yes! Good girl,” Steve exclaims triumphantly as he works you through your orgasm, watching your trembling limbs with a deranged kind of satisfaction.

He pulls his fingers out of you with a wet sound and lifts them to his mouth. You watch through half-lidded eyes how he opens his mouth and sucks your slick from his fingers with a pleasured moan, his own eyes falling shut.

“Knew you'd taste good, baby. So good. I need more, baby. I'm sorry, I can't help it, I just need more,” he rambles, hastily shifting between your limp legs until his face is level with your sensitive pussy, slick still leaking from the twitching opening.

“Just a taste...” he grunts before sticking out his tongue and dragging it across the length of your cunt with an obscene moan.

You jerk away when he touches your clit, but his hands swiftly wrap around your thighs, keeping your core anchored to his face.

Whines and breathless gasps escape you as you writhe in his hold, your head growing foggy with the pleasure forced on you.

When your second orgasm rushes through you in a shuddering wave and Steve keeps going on, you limply resign yourself to a long night of forced pleasure. With him, there's no getting away.

Never.

After all, he knows everything about you.

...

There we go, he's got her in his clutches now-

Here's my updated Bingo card!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #writing challenge #bingo challenge #the slumberparty bingo challenge

[holylulusworld]

Wrong number

Summary: In need for a new job you call the friend of a friend.

Pairing: Mobster!Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings: mentions of unemployment, wrong number trope, dubcon, degrading, Lloyd being Lloyd, implied kidnapping, implied darkish Lloyd Hansen, forced stripping

AN: Square filled for Navy and Roo’s slumber party presents bingo @the-slumberparty: wrong number

You take a deep breath and dial the number your friend gave you.

Someone barks into the phone, grumbling as you do not answer fast enough.

“Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I got your number from my friend Ben. Ben Maher. It’s about the job. He said you want to make an appointment for a Zoom meeting.”

“What?” The man yells at someone before he turns his attention back toward you. “Say that again, sunshine. I didn’t get the last part.” His voice softens as you repeat the same line, the one you wrote down to not stumble over your words.

Fuck, you hate this. You hate to beg someone you never talked to before to give you a chance. If only you didn’t lose your job.

Well, this can’t be helped. All you can do is get back on your feet as fast as possible.

“Hello, who the fuck is calling me and doesn’t answer!” You shake your head. Again, you messed your chance up. The man on the other end of the line is already mad at you.

“Hi,” you squeak. “Mr.…Mr.…” you wrinkle your forehead. Great. Now you forgot the name Ben told you too. “Sorry.” You exhale sharply. “I wanted to ask if the position is still available.”

“Position?” His voice drops, and he purrs in the phone. “I think we should get to know each other better before I offer the position to you.”

“Yeah. Ben said something about a Zoom meeting,” you repeat, rolling your eyes. That guy didn’t listen to you at all. “We can make an appointment and you can send me a link.”

“Right now.”

“What?”

He groans. “I said, right now sugar plum. I’ll send you a link, and you better be ready for Lloyd Hansen. I hate wasting my time.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you hastily say. “Do you need my e-mail address?” Crap. Another lapse. Of course, he’ll need your contact information to send you the link. How dull are you sometimes?

“Message me the address. I’ll send you the link,” he sounds a little more excited and you wonder if this interview will go better than the last, or the one before the last.

“There she is,” the man almost purrs. He stares into the camera, making you feel uncomfortable. “Not bad, sunshine.” He grins, eyes glued to your chest. “Damn me, a pretty angel for me to ruin.”

You still fight with your headset as your potential new employer watches you with amusement.

“Shoot,” you curse when your wireless mouse ends up on the ground. You are a clumsy mess again. “Just a minute.”

He’s knuckling his mustache all the while ogling your ass when you turn around to pick up your wireless mouse.

“Are you done now?” Lloyd questions as you finally sit down. “Can we start?”

“Sorry. Yes.”

“Good,” he tilts his head, eyes drifting toward your chest again. Lloyd frowns and wrinkles his nose. “No. That’s not good. Take off that jacket.”

“What?” Looking down at your body you wonder if the purple blazer was the wrong choice. “Don’t you like it?”

“I hate it. Take it off,” he impatiently grunts. “Hurry. I don’t have all day.”

You sigh but follow his order. He’s a potential employer and you don’t want to fuck this chance up. “Better?” you ask when you drop the blazer to the ground.

“No,” he shakes his head. “The blouse, get rid of it. Show me something I will like,” Lloyd leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

You frown deeply. “Uh-I’m not applying for a job as a cam girl, Sir,” you lick your lips. How far will you go to get a simple office job?

“Take. It. Off.” He growls. “If not, I’ll end this before we even get started.”

“I-“ You ask yourself if Ben hates you. If not, why would he tell you to talk to this perv? “Fine.”

“At least you can follow orders,” Lloyd smirks now. He watches you clumsily take off your white blouse. You drop it to the ground, huffing as this is the most embarrassing job interview you ever attended.

“Hmm…white too. So pure, but I bet you’re a naughty girl,” you scrunch up your nose. “I bet you are wearing white panties too. Lace.”

You drop your eyes to your lower half. “I think we should talk about my curriculum vitae now, Sir. I have experience in data entry, bookkeeping, and filing. I know how to use computer software too. I’m hard-working and accurate.”

Lloyd laughs loudly. “Sugar plum, this is not a job interview. All I want to know is if you are good at sucking dick and if you like it up your ass.”

“What?” You don’t know how to react to his crassness. This is not the way men usually talk to you. “Ben said you’ve got a job at your office for me!”

“Ben? Who the fuck is Ben?”

An icy shiver runs down your spine. “My friend…your friend Ben Maher. He told me about the job.”

“I don’t know a fucker named Ben, sunshine. Now, take off that skirt. I wanna get a better look at your ass. I don’t pay my sugar babes for boobs only.”

“Sugar what?” You take off your headset and slam your laptop shut. “What the fuck did Ben get me in to?”

Speechless you sit on your chair, close to tears. You just stripped your blouse off for some guy. “Shit…fuck…”

Slinging your arms around your body you rock back and forth. What if that man took a screenshot? What if he recorded you?

You glance at the laptop, shuddering at the memory of Lloyd’s hungry gaze.

It takes you a few moments to calm down and pick up your blouse.

Ben will catch hell the next time you talk to him.

You’re still shaken from the odd job interview a few days ago. That man didn’t even offer a position to you. And you can’t reach Ben to give him hell.

To calm your nerves, you scroll through another website to find a new position. It can’t be helped. Ben’s friend was a creep, not an employer.

“Coming.” You curse when your doorbell rings. Putting your phone aside, you get up from your couch. Whoever stands in front of your door is very impatient. “Right there. Christ…I’m already here.”

Your heart drops when no other than Lloyd Hansen stands in front of your door. He looks you up and down. “If I tell you to take off your skirt, I expect you to follow my orders.”

“This…no. How’d you find me?” You gape at the stranger at your door.

“Your friend Ben was very helpful,” Lloyd grins darkly. “Imagine my surprise getting to know that you called the wrong guy. I believed you wanted to become my new plaything.”

“Wrong…guy…?”

“This doesn’t matter anymore,” he steps closer, invading your home. “I set my eyes on you. You look ready to get eaten, sunshine. Daddy is ready to give you the world.”

Lloyd cups the back of your neck. He forces you to hold his gaze as his steel-blue eyes search your scared face. “Let me go. This…no…I only wanted a job.”

“You got it, sunshine.” He roughly claims your lips. You can only open your mouth for him and let him take what he wants. “You are going to be such a good girl for me. And your only job is to take my dick and look pretty for me…”

Right number

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #mobster!lloyd hansen #the slumber party bingo #the slumber party

[codywanfirstkissbingo]

Codywan First Kiss Bingo

Can't get enough of Cody and Obi-Wan's first kiss in any universe and situation? Well then we'd love to have you play our bingo!

How to Play

Fill out this form and we'll email you your shiny bingo card. Every card is a shuffled assortment of prompts that will look something like this:

Below are all the rules you should know about before you join.

General Rules

We're sure you are familiar with the rules of bingo, but just to be certain everyone is on the same page, to get a bingo you must fill five prompts in a row. That row can be vertical, horizontal, or diagonal. Fill all the prompts on your card and that's a blackout!

Get as creative with your kisses as you want but they MUST BE A FIRST KISS between Obi-Wan and Cody in some capacity. 

Prompt fills should be new works, meaning that they should not be part of an ongoing work-in-progress. Sequels and prequels to already-finished works are welcome! 

Posting Dates

Participants have the entire month of December to post bingo fills! Sign up around the time of this announcement and you will have a two month creation window before December 1st rolls around.

You can either post to our collection on ao3 and/or on tumblr but we do ask that you please tag us @codywanfirstkissbingo AND tag your post with #CWFKB2023 as we don’t want to miss anyone if tumblr drops the ball. 

If you’re posting on AO3 but want us to reblog your fill, please make a Tumblr post with the link and make sure to @ us and tag your post with #CWFKB2023. We’ll be checking the collection when tracking fills and making round-up posts with bingos and blackouts, but we will not be cross-posting every individual fill on AO3 ourselves if the creator has not made a tumblr post.   

Please include a screenshot of your bingo tag with the prompt fill indicated so we know which square you’ve filled!

Specific Rules

Fic: 100 words minimum per prompt fill. To be clear, the kiss itself does not have to last 100 words, though we'd be delighted to see that.

Art: One drawing per fill (digital or traditional). Different drawings can be on the same canvas/page if you so wish. Go wild with your compositions.

Podfic: Same requirements as fic. You can collaborate with someone writing a fic specifically for the event or find an existing fic that fills your prompt.

Fanmix: One song per fill- we'd love to see what songs give you codywan first kiss vibes. Try to match lyrics to your prompt but instrumental songs are cool too.

Other: Send an ask with your inquiry! We're more than happy to discuss expanding the fanwork pool to maximize creativity.

Ratings

You can post any work with any rating, but please abide by the appropriate rating/archive warning/tags on AO3 when posting there. When posting on tumblr, please warn for potentially triggering content in the tags and the header to the post, so readers can filter as needed. Anything spicy or explicit should go under a read-more tag, and please use a read-more tag if you’re posting a fic that is longer than a drabble (100 words) to be considerate of people’s dashboard feeds.

To help make this event a safe one for Codywan fans with any kind of photosensitivity, we do specifically request that you tag any and all flashing imagery with #flashing. If you're unsure what constitutes flashing, please see this article, or err on the side of caution for any image with: moving stripes or checkered patterns; strobe light, lightning, or explosion effects in any image or video; images of flickering light/sunlight on leaves/water; very fast cuts between images in a gif or video; rapidly moving images in an animation or gif set that stop and start or “stutter;” sparkle text or similar moving text effects; and images in an animation, gifset, or video that are in high color contrast to each other (for example, a gif set that cuts pink Barbie gifs with black & white Oppenheimer gifs to create a fast-moving contrast between the two styles.) 

The CWFKB mods' decision is final on whether your post/entry requires a flashing warning; they will contact you to ask you to update your tags if you haven’t already noted in your tumblr or AO3 post that your fill contains #flashing content. If you are not willing to use the flashing tag, even after being contacted by the mods, the mods have the right to decide that under-tagged flashing fills will be disqualified from the event.

Finally– with exceptions for the NSFW or #spicy and #flashing tags on tumblr– you have the right to choose not to warn readers in accordance with AO3’s “choose not to warn” option, but posters whose tags or ratings are deceptive or misleading versus the actual content may have their fills disqualified.

When in doubt, please contact the mods! The mods will contact you about any fill where the tags and ratings raise this concern, with a request that you revise and update your tags and warnings.

Combining Prompts

This is a low stakes event and we just want people to have fun! If you want to combine prompts that's totally fine, but we ask that you give each fill its own scene within the larger work. This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.

Swapping Prompts

Nearly have a bingo but there's that one pesky prompt in your way you don't vibe with? Go ahead and swap it with another prompt on your card. As all the prompts are randomly selected and not handpicked for participants; we understand there's a chance some of the prompts may not inspire you so we allow ONE and only ONE SWAP PER CARD. Use it carefully if you need it!

Behind the Scenes

This bingo is modded by tumblr users @dontbelasagnax @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and @notthestarwar. Since we're big fans of the previous codywan bingos, we felt the drive to bring the fun back for anyone else that has missed the event as much as us!

Our adorable profile picture was drawn by @anaclastic-azurite! 

You can actually find the public inception of this bingo event right here!

If you have any further questions after reading our rules, our askbox is open!

@swfandomevents

(NB: edited Oct. 9 to add "vertical.")

(NB: edited Nov. 10 to add "This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.")

#codywan #cwfkb2023 #mod post #cwfkb #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi

[akumastrife]

Knightmare Of Your Dreams // Dreamling

Rating: Explicit (Just All Smut) Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Word Count: 3k I have no excuse for this. I wanted to write weird and kinky Dreamling with a side of shapeshifting, the thinnest King and His Knight vibes, weird anatomy, some claws and shadow tentacles, and self-indulgence. Written for the "Eldritch" square on last year's Monsterfucktober Bingo that I never finished in time.

{Also on AO3} Shout out to "Violently (slowed) by Mira" that I listened to roughly 200 times while writing this bc its soooo Dreamling to me. also to Zomsaurus for the funniest line in any of my writing ever

It was never supposed to be like this. Death was for everyone else, never Hob. She’d promised.

But the Endless did not abide by such rules; drifted uncaring outside them. If Death could make such a thing, it could be assumed that one of the others could unmake it.

And now that the imminent danger is gone, now that Hob’s safe and remade under Dream’s protection, he can at least admit Hob looks wonderful on his knees.

Dream’s always thought so, and now he gives himself over to leisure to look his fill. He’s well and truly his now, shouldn’t he be allowed?

The visage Hob’s chosen for himself is fitting; muscle encapsulated in shining armor, a sword at his side and the helmet with haloed spikes set reverently beside him. The insignia, mirrored on cloak and shield, is Dream’s favorite part.

A burst of stars across a sea of black, glittering as it moves just as Dream’s coat does. It is the same, after all; a claim that makes primal satisfaction simmer low under his skin.

Dream’s remade him, and Hob has chosen to be his, still. Always.

Everything the Corinthian was supposed to be. Every iteration a pale imitation of the man Dream has followed through time.

 “You do not have to kneel,” Dream says. Near purrs. Can tell the low timber is pleasing by the way exposed skin shivers in answer. But Hob himself does not move. Not even an inch to have his armor creaking.

“Perhaps,” Hob says, looking up quickly and the corners of his mouth flicking up similarly. “But you like it. And I owe you, don’t I?”

Hob owes him nothing. The centuries of give and take sprawl behind them, and Dream is almost certain the scales are still tilted in Hob’s favor.

And yet.

That is not what Hob is asking.

Now that he’s part of the dreaming, now that he’s part of Dream—intertwined irrevocably—there is little Dream cannot know about him. His feelings, his mind, his desires.

It is a game Hob’s wanting.

Dream hums, leaning back in his high-backed throne, crossing one leg over the other. Considers Hob, all his pieces, the laughing light in his soft eyes. Gestures wide and airy with one hand. “And what would you offer? To me, an Endless, who has need of nothing.”

Hob does shift then. “My lord,” said with all the impudence of a knight who ought to be taught to heel like a dog. His eyes drop, hungry and dark, down Dream’s front—

Dream finds himself wearing a velvet robe in the darkest shades of plum and night-sky blue, open to expose the moonlight of his torso. Plays fingers along the sweeping sleeve hems with half an eye on Hob, considering him and the outfit he’s put Dream in with sheer want alone.

“I see,” he murmurs. Watches Hob swallow. Extends his lifted foot, now encased in a soft stocking that runs the length of his leg under the edges of the robe, and slides it slow between Hob’s legs. Presses up, idly, like he is a curiosity and nothing more.

Hob shudders, eyes fluttering closed as he swallows again, jaw clenching against the sigh Dream can almost taste.

“You would like to serve me, then? You, who are now a Nightmare under my hand, and think yourself clever as a knight. All the centuries you’ve lived, and still, you crave a king to kneel before.”

When Hob doesn’t answer, Dream arches up his foot again, a smooth slide that pushes speech out of Hob.

“No,” Hob gasps.

“This says otherwise.”

“No. Not a king.” Hob grits his teeth, every part of his body (tight, honed and singing like a weapon begging to be asked to strike) shivering in an effort to stay still. “Just you.”

Warmth blooms and oozes under Dream’s skin. He lets the satisfaction radiate out as something tangible until Hob’s blinking up at him, expression bare in its awe.

“You are an impossibility,” Dream praises, softly. “I should’ve offered to keep you long ago.”

“I would’ve happily,” Hob says. “Let me now?”

“Be kept? Oh, Robert Gadling,” Dream says, leaning towards him. Takes Hob’s cheek in his hand, cradling gently before shifting to catch his chin in an unrelenting grip. “I am never letting you go, even if you beg.”

Hot hands land on his knees as Hob surges closer and leans up on knees still to catch his mouth in a kiss.

Dream lets himself be kissed. Let’s Hob direct it as hot and slick as he likes, lets himself be lulled under the rhythm like a boat bobbing gently on calm waters. It is at odds with the desire boiling under Hob’s hands, thrashing and teaming to get out. Barely contained in this body Dream has fashioned lovingly for him.

“What do you have for me?” Hob asks against Dream’s mouth, hoarse already with the want like it’s choking him. His hands slide reverently down Dream’s chest, toying with his nipples before following the edges of the robe to his lap. Kisses him gently as he finds Dream’s hips and holds on, thumbs rubbing back and forth.

“What would you like?”

Hob’s hands squeeze, breath catching audible in something too close to a whimper. Freezes, startled by the overwhelming realization and the world that’s been opened to him. Offered to him on a platter.

Dream slips into his mind easily, eyebrows raising at the dozens of images that flip through him. Hob’s brain working overtime with all his wonderings and filthy dreams.

Hob certainly isn’t lacking in imagination. It seems like he’s traded any shame he might’ve had for more of it.

If Hob is spoiled for choice, then he shouldn’t have to choose.

Dream selects a few of them, plucking them out of the mire with newly sharp claws, as precise as a spider traversing its own web. He feeds that thought to Hob while he has him, and smiles at the shudder it gets him.

“Are you that easy?” he asks. He runs his black-tipped claws through Hob’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

“For anything, as long as it’s you,” Hob assures him, nipping at his lip.

“I might scare you.”

“You can’t,” Hob says.

Something dark and dangerous flares low in Dream, and he grips the back of Hob’s neck, dragging him back into a kiss. He has to taste him, has to steal his breath until he doesn’t breathe at all without Dream doing it for him.

Hob fumbles to strip his thin gloves off and find the opening of the robe with bare hands. “Please,” Hob groans. “I will be so good for you.”

His hands slip greedy to skin, wrapping around Dream’s cock. Strokes him slow to learn the new shape of him, to thumb all the fluted edges like a tall flower closed.

Hob bows his head to take him into his mouth immediately, groaning softly as his tongue dips into the slit.

Dream sighs, letting his hands wander of their own accord. The armor is mostly in his way, but he is not bound by mortal conventions and can slip beneath them. “You have only ever been perfect.”

Hob’s tongue is heavenly and cruel at once; a rolling softness that deftly coaxes at every place that sparks pleasure like Hob is singularly attuned to it.

The plush give of his mouth is enough that Dream distantly wonders if he had reshaped it to only accept him.

He wants to devour Hob whole, if only he might also feel this all-consuming pleasure.

Hob groans softly like he agrees.

“Easy,” Dream praises again, deftly flicking at every buckle and clasp of Hob’s armor with his claws. It all falls away under his whim, clattering indecent to the floor and echoing through the hall. Leaves Hob in just a soft tunic and breeches, and available to his hands and the shadows that ripple around them in pleasure. They shift and pulse in time with his own heartbeat. Grow larger and darker, building up on their own and teaming hungrily around Hob.

The hunger is its own entity, awakening from disuse in his body and ravenous for it.

Shadows pull together, wriggling into tendrils that wrap and caress Hob like a lover.

Dream can feel him shiver and shake, can feel his breathing stutter and deepen. Feels everything his shadows do, awareness split to watch Hob’s head move sinuous and also in the tendrils slipping under fabric and along tacky skin.

Exhales heavy and inexorable as he tips his head back and watches through the shadows that explore the length of Hob’s body, licking in every crease and curl against the tight heat of him.

“Hard for me?” Dream breathes. “Just from being on your knees, just from having your mouth full? Easy.”

“Merely rigor mortis, my lord,” Hob teases, tracing his tongue down.

Dream tightens his fingers in Hob’s hair, pulling warningly. “I gave you life, and I can take it away.”

“Don’t threaten me, I’m into that.”

Dream laughs despite himself, startled, and just as quickly it twists into a moan at the savage spear of tongue against his slit, the way Hob takes him so deep into his mouth he can feel the squeeze of his greedy throat.

“Do you wish to consume me?”

Hob whines, nails digging into his sides, swallowing again.

“Do you wish to take me inside all of you? Or shall I open myself up so your tongue may taste me at my core?”

Images fly fast and desperate behind Hob’s bruised eyelids, saliva pooling and dripping, knees twinging against stone as shadows finger lovingly along the inside of his thighs. Debauchery, and a spine-tingling notion of Dream splitting his cock open so Hob can lap his tongue down the center of it, giving pleasure from inside-out.

“Steady, love,” Dream eases. His claws betray him, digging into the back of straining shoulder blades. Trace slow paths that almost draw blood. “We have eternity yet.”

Dark tendrils tease up to Hob’s hole, laving attention and worming inside.

“Fucking terror,” Hob gasps, pulling back and jamming his face in the crease of Dream’s thigh.

“Just that? They are so small, just curious,” Dream muses, curling fingers through his hair, soothing. “You have taken more. This should be nothing.” Tightens and pulls, yanking Hob’s head back and savoring the electric groan.

“It’s well and truly different, and you know that.” Hob’s already panting. Shifts on his knees, hips hitching into empty air and then back on the mime of fingers. “More?”

Dream lets him have as much as he can take, humming a soft ballad from the thirteenth century as he feeds more to Hob, stretching inside him; another to wrap and squeeze his balls, preventing him from rocking himself to any sort of satisfying end. Savors the choked moan.

He would play with him like this for a century, like a cat does a mouse, toyed with on just the edge of some finality but never letting him have the satisfaction.

“Please,” Hob begs. “Please, anything you like, I will do anything, just—just more. I want to feel you. I need to feel you.”

He’s very lucky that it’s exactly what Dream himself wants. Lucky to be so handsome, to have caught Dream’s affection like the golden-limned muse he is. Lucky that Dream will happily bend time and reality for him.

Will happily help him up from the floor to kneel over Dream’s lap instead, and hold his hands firm for stability as Hob sinks down onto his length with a groan so obscene Dream’s sure it would put a whorehouse to shame.

“Look at you,” Dream purrs, watching every inch of Hob’s face tipped back in rapture. “You take me beautifully, my love.”

Hob laughs, something breathy and aborted, tight around all his edges as he squeezes Dream’s hands in a dozen things unsaid. Squeezes his eyes shut; squeezes around Dream himself, sweat dotting his skin as he takes a blessed moment to get used to the new shape of him remade for Dream’s pleasure.

Or maybe it the other way around, maybe it is Dream who’s been reshaped for Hob, to be used and enjoyed.

Dream continues to watch him, enjoying every detail and shift, as Hob takes his time. Runs sharp claws only somewhat careful up and down Hob’s heaving ribs, keeping his own hips still as Hob begins to rock small circles onto him. Keeps him deep inside, but chasing the little shocks of friction.

“Everything you wanted?”

“More,” Hob says. His thighs flex in an effort to lift and sink back down, building to some rhythm only he knows. It is heaven and hell both to feel him—better than, when he’s experienced both. Would rebuke both for this here, and does with his teeth to Hob’s throat, tasting the pounding of his heart as Hob works himself a little faster.

“And you?” Hob manages to ask.

Dream does not bother with words, just in the tightness of his hands and claws as he drags Hob closer into him, both of them gasping as talons pierce skin.

The dark tendrils are as hungry as ever, sliding around Hob’s skin and covering every inch Dream cannot. Teaming against them both like a desperate creature, jealous for attention. Needy still, despite having tasted Hob already. Maybe wants more for having done so already.

They are part of Dream, after all, and Dream does not think he will ever tire of tasting Hob. Tastes him again in an open kiss, slow and indulgent in contrast to the fast and brutal way Hob fucks himself on him. Tastes every breath and keen that escapes Hob. Tastes Hob’s skin and nipples and cock through the wriggling passes of darkness.

Hob is tight and hot and slick, and Dream buries his face into Hob’s neck, breathing deep and fast, grazing with very sharp teeth. Each press gets closer to breaking skin, and each one makes Hob shake harder.

“Will you give it to me?” Dream rumbles. Teeth and claws dig in so slowly, pressing wrenching gasps from Hob. Shadows build and creep around Hob’s cock, gripping him tight, squeezing in time with his own frantic rocking.

Hob sobs, body tense and face utterly slack in ecstasy. “I’d give you anything.” 

“Just you then,” Dream says. Drags nails down to sink into the writhing dark mass to take Hob’s cock in hand. “Everything. You are everything.”

The smallest, weakest whine escapes Hob. As does a tear, tracking slow down his cheek.

Dream stretches to lick it up, saliva turning sticky as arousal swells. He grips Hob tight all over, free hand gripping his hip to yank him down into a frantic rhythm. Feels his pulse follow suit in the desperation—hears Hob’s do the same—thoughts swirling with the desire to fold Hob over something and well and truly claim him. The desire to hold Hob down and use him as much as Hob himself wants.

Wants most, ridiculously, to make Hob happy. And that is to stay right here and let desire fan the flames of his power until he is growing in size and energy, and still letting Hob curl over top of him as he shouts in painful sharp release.

Dream groans with him, drawing it out of him like spinning yarn, a gentle and thready tug-and-give, taking every shake, every pulse, all the suffusing warmth Hob has in him. Wishes to draw every ounce of damp completion out of him until he is as empty and cold as the armor he likes to wear. The armor still scattered on the floor of the throne’s dais. The sight of it over Hob’s shoulder (scratched, bitten, bleeding) is nearly as loose and erotic as the man still fucking himself on him is.

“Won’t you join me?” Hob gasps. His voice grates and fails him, near hoarse. Keens as he forces himself to tighten around Dream’s cock, trying to milk pleasure out of him. Hob is so tired. Dream can feel it. His exhaustion. His pleasure. His satisfaction. His greediness as his muscles spasm and twitch with continued stimulation. “You’ve made me feel so good, love. Won’t you let me do the same? Please.”

It wobbles. The word or Hob’s voice, or maybe Hob’s grasp on rationality.

Dream only hums. Loosens his grip on hip and cock both, softening to hold and stroke featherlight. “You are tired.”

Hob shakes his head. Resumes languid rolling of his hips.

“You might hurt yourself, continuing like this.”

“You will fix me,” Hob argues. Stubborn in life and death both.

“You are charming.”

Hob manages a breathy laugh. His expression tightens, eyes squeezed shut in focus. “If you don’t come inside me right now—”

Dream bites his lip, cutting it off neatly. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t. Just…” Rolls words around in his mouth, leaning back against the throne, watching Hob refuse to still.

The dark tendrils, pesky things, help him. Wrap around his waist and curl at his back, stabilizing him, keeping him from tumbling either direction.

“Not yet,” Dream decides.

Hob chokes on a whine, posture shooting ramrod straight as the layers of ridges on Dream’s cock expand outward. Just enough to keep him locked in place.

“You wanted something new to play with,” Dream reminds him, running claws through sweat-soaked hair. “Who am I to cut your fun short?”

#dreamling #the sandman #dream #hob gadling #monsterfucking #eldritch dream #shapeshifting #shadow tentacles #my writing #monsterfucktoberbingo #knight vibes #PWP

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Where Do We Go From Here - Part 2

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2721

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Read Part 1 here

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

.

“I love you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“I love you more, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Content.

That was a primary feeling among others, contentment and giddiness. It was the happiest day of your life. You had married your love, James Rhodes. The ceremony was everything you had wished for and more, all of your friends and family watched happily as you exchanged vows and rings, grinning ear to ear as you were declared man and wife.

The day you met him, or rather evening at Tony Stark’s party, hadn’t been the most perfect. Hell, you were too wasted to even remember but Rhodey had dropped you home - more like carried you, tucked you in bed, and left some Advil along with a note like a gentleman, a tiny smiley face with his number that had you giggling like a teenager. And that was the beginning of your relationship.

And exactly six months later you were dancing to your favorite song with your new husband who had a firm arm around your back, the other holding your hand while you lay your cheek against his chest, loving every minute of the moment. The song ended and you broke apart, reluctantly letting him go, you pecked him on his lips a couple times before excusing yourself to use the ladies room.

The door seemed to be locked so you gave a soft knock, frowning when you heard muffled voices of what sounded like two people arguing. Twisting the knob, you entered anyway because you couldn’t wait and stumbled on Tony and Pepper. They had been squabbling.

“I’m really sorry guys, I–I couldn’t wait.” you hurried into a stall, gathering your wedding gown as best as you could. You heard Pepper storm off, the clicking of her heels wasn’t exactly silent, before Tony’s footsteps receded soon after. As you headed out, Tony had been leaning against the opposite wall, looking tired and mildly irritated.

“All okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned for two of your closest friends. He waved his hand in dismissal and shrugged, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Was that payback for me accidentally walking in on you in your bridal gown?” Tony jested, making you giggle as well as recalled the moment that happened just a few hours ago. Someone incorrectly told Tony about Rhodey’s room and he had barged in on you with two of your bridesmaids after you had just put on your wedding dress. He could’ve sworn his heart had stopped at that moment. You were stunning, so beautiful he actually struggled to form words. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Tony had left, not before giving you a once over, the image of you had been stuck in his mind for posterity. He couldn’t help but feel how lucky his best friend was.

“Oh God no! That was um, I just really had to go. I didn’t know you guys would be in there, arguing.” you blinked, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“While women’s bathrooms are at the top of my list for quarreling, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tony had a knack for making a joke out of serious situations, you knew that, you wondered if that was one of the reasons for him and Pepper arguing. Pepper, as far as you knew, was a no-nonsense person. As the two of you walked back towards the hall, you saw your new husband deep in conversation with her. Thinking nothing of it, you turned to Tony.

“I should probably–”

“Good luck with–”

You spoke at the same time, chuckling as Tony scratched the back of his neck, looking back up at you with a sincere smile on his face.

“Good luck with your marriage, Y/N. I hope you two are happy, and not just for the pictures.”

The sun had risen a few hours ago, heavy curtains blocked most of the light where you lay in the guest bed, working up the courage to face the day. Pepper’s funeral had been another painful reminder of your new reality. People kept offering their condolences to Tony who had his stoic facade on, occasionally looking out for you to check if you were still around. You had made it a point to be there for him, he wasn’t exactly volatile but the man needed you to ground him, probably more than you needed him. Or maybe it was the same. Who knew?

All you knew was if there was anybody in the world who could get what you were going through, it was Tony. And it was the same for him. It was the strangest and the most tragic connection you two had now.

You stood outside your house and stared at it, a house that held so many memories, happy memories with you and James. It was now just walls and bricks. Tony had been reluctant to leave you alone but after much assurance, he dropped you here and left for work.

You went on a cleaning spree once you stepped in, the kitchen had been dirty, your bed was unkempt. Blasting on some loud music that you knew James would’ve hated if he were alive, you cleaned the house. And you actually felt better once you were finished. It was exhausting but therapeutic. Your mood had been lifted enough for you to make a batch of mini blueberry pies to take back to Tony’s. The only thing that you dreaded was opening the closet, conflicted between never wanting to find out what he had been hiding in there and wanting to know everything and be done with it.

.

He was smiling. Not believing this was his reality now, everything was perfect, everything felt right. The way it was supposed to be. A comfortable peace settled in his chest as he watched you from afar, laughing with your friend, Pepper as you cooked. A glass of wine in one hand while you stirred a pot with the other, lips curved into the most gorgeous smiles that always set his heart racing, Tony could feel the love radiating off of him.

Catching his eye, you winked, causing him to chuckle before making your way over, your beautiful face forming a frown as you saw the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Coffee? Really, Tony?” you placed your hands on your hips, giving him a stern look.

“And then you wonder why you can’t sleep at night.”

“I mean, I plan on keeping you awake with me…” he trailed off, smirking as he pulled you close by your waist.

“Oh? I didn’t know we had those kinda plans tonight, Mr. Stark.” your fingers had found their way into his hair while he placed soft kisses along your neck, feeling your body mold perfectly against him.

“Now you’ve got your reminder, haven’t you Mrs. Sta–”

Tony jolted awake, the sound of the buzzer outside broke the little dream into a sad reality. Once again, he had fallen asleep on the couch. A habit that Pepper hated, one that had led to several arguments in the past. The small screen by the door revealed your face, Tony’s previous dream flooding his mind once more, making him shake his head as if it could be brushed off.

“Hey!” you gave Tony a small smile, stepping inside the house and immediately noticing the blanket on his couch.

“Were you asleep? Shit! I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and waved it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, narrowing his eyes as he noticed something on the blouse you wore.

“I cleaned the house, it felt great! Which I don’t think I’ve said in what feels like forever. I also made those mini blueberry pies you like. Here.” you handed them to him, watching his face light up genuinely after weeks. It made all of the efforts worth it.

“You ate some too, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

Tony chuckled and reached out to pick up a tiny piece of fruit from your collar, his fingers linger over your skin. Looking down, you noticed the purple-red stain in a couple other spots too, mentally cursing yourself for being so sloppy.

“The stain is gonna set..” you murmured, trying to rub it off with your nails and failing.

“Um, you could wear one of my t-shirts, if you want. I’ll get one for you.” Tony suggested, promptly heading upstairs when you nodded in agreement.

Deciding on taking a shower while you were at it, you turned on the faucet and let the hot water cascade down your body, your weary muscles relaxing under it. Your mind went about this arrangement you had come to, you were living with your best friend’s husband for weeks now, sleeping in the guest bed, dealing with the deaths of your significant others who happened to be in an affair. It was all the makings of a drama movie.

Tony had been your support system, a shoulder to cry on and quite frankly the only person you could tolerate. He didn’t look at you with sympathy, nor did he offer unsolicited advice, he was just there, to hold your hand when you needed, to wipe your tears when you had bouts of anxiety and broke down, Tony was there and that was enough.

Slipping on his t-shirt felt oddly comforting, it smelt of something that was distinctly Tony Stark - a mix of coffee, cigarettes and cologne. Heading downstairs, you noticed him nursing a cup of coffee in his hands as he sat on the kitchen counter.

“Coffee? Seriously? It’s time for dinner, Tony Stark.” you shook your head, your voice breaking him out of his reverie.

His heart definitely skipped a beat. You sounded eerily similar to the dream he just had, two, you wore his clothes which made something bloom in his chest, something that was probably inappropriate. He found his restraint slipping by the minute.

Raising his hands in defeat, he placed the mug away and held out a bottle of wine for you.

“I had this one saved, I know it’s your favorite. What do you say?”

You could use a drink, you thought. Or ten. And the fact that he had your favorite bottle saved made you smile at his thoughtfulness. You had dinner in silence, a comfortable one though before Tony dug into one of the small pies you had made.

“I swear to God, I would’ve married you just for these.” he realized what he’d said the next second, quickly apologizing and cursing himself under his breath.

“I found Pepper’s clothes on his closet, Tony.”

You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to cause him more pain but it slipped out.

“I burned them.” you added quickly, watching him give you a small nod, as if to say it was the right thing to do.

“Fuck them.” you whispered.

“Yeah, fuck them.” Tony agreed, clearing out your plates. You watched him clean them, noticing he wasn’t wearing his wedding band anymore.

“Are we bad people, Tony?” you asked a few breaths later, staring out the window with your wine glass. Tony sighed, making his way over next to you, shoulders almost brushing.

“You know we’re not, Y/N. We deserve much better than we’ve had. Cheating is a choice, a choice they both made and broke vows. It doesn’t reflect our character, it reflects theirs.”

He was right. Somehow he always said the right things.

“Did you read this in a bad self-help book somewhere?” you jested, angling your body towards him after hearing him chuckle.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got about nine hundred quotes just ready to roll out whenever.”

You felt yourself laugh, a version of yourself that was earlier buried so deep down, you thought she’d never come out. Tony placed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers caressing your cheek softly as he stepped closer.

You swore your heart was beating loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes glancing down at his lips. Now just inches away, you placed your hands on top of his and took in a deep breath.

“We can’t, Tony.”

“Why not?” he hadn’t moved away, he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“We’re not those bad people, remember?” you breathed, not really wanting him to go away but you had to do the right thing. You didn’t want him or you to regret what would happen in the spur of the moment. He kissed you on your forehead, his soft lips still lingering against your skin as he spoke.

“We are people who repressed our feelings for far too long though. I know I am.” he murmured, leaving you confused.

What did he mean? Repressed feelings?

Opening your eyes, you found his brown orbs imploring yours, saying everything that was left unsaid between you over the years. Cupping his face, he leaned into your touch instinctively, still not moving from his place.

“I’ve had feelings for you way before any of this happened, Y/N. I thought you knew.” he whispered.

You did. You just never found the courage to confront him about it or even act on your own. You were married to his best friend, for God’s sake. And now…

“Would you regret this if I told you how much I’ve wanted you, Y/N?”

Tony had been holding himself back for a long time, he couldn’t any more. He would stop if you told him to, no questions asked, but something inside him said you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Answer me, Y/N. Would you regret it?”

Tears filled in your eyes and spilled over, down your cheeks where they met Tony’s gentle fingers that wiped them off. You were waiting for the voice inside your head to tell you this would be a mistake. That voice never spoke up.

“No.”

That simple word was a sentence in itself. It was all Tony needed to hear before closing the distance. He kissed you softly at first, melding his lips against yours as he pulled you against his chest. Kissing him was like coming home after a long, tiring day. It was new and yet familiar, like you were doing something right for once. He coaxed your mouth open to deepen the kiss, a mix of blueberries and wine that felt so right to him too.

Everything else felt like a beautiful blur to you. He carried you up the stairs, never breaking the kiss, laid you on the mattress, peeling his t-shirt off your body and admired your flushed skin. Nudging you with his nose, your eyes fluttered open to reflect zero traces of regret, giving him a signal to go ahead. You could think about the million other things running through your mind later, right now all that mattered was you and Tony.

His clothed shaft made its presence known as his hips drove forward, his head now dipped low between your breasts as he caressed your body. A needy moan left your lips as he peeled your shorts off, fingers teasing your moist entrance.

You undressed him quickly, wanting and needing him to make you feel good. Caging you with his arms on either side of your head, Tony pushed inside your heat, welcoming the warmth that enveloped his cock so well. His name fell from your lips in a soft sigh, urging him closer as you wrapped your legs around him.

Everything fell into oblivion as Tony fucked you, drove you to a point of ecstacy and held you as you fell apart. Kissed you like there was no tomorrow and yet all of his kisses felt like promises, promises of a better tomorrow. A future that would be better than your past, and your present.

#tony stark x reader #james rhodes x reader #tony stark angst #tony stark smut #fandom free bingo #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x pepper potts #tony stark fic #tony stark imagine #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #the stark squad #marvel fanfiction #mostly marvel musings #tony stark fluff

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: jealousy, minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: Peter always has to one-up you in everything he does. He always finishes a quiz before you. He gets better grades than you. It's infuriating. Then you catch him doing the one thing that makes you rethink how you feel about him.

Squares Filled: pretending not to care for @spider-man-bingo

Author’s Note: i didn't specify which peter parker is here, so you can imagine any of the three for this story!

x

Class could not go by any slower than it is now. It feels like you have been in here for hours even though it’s only been thirty minutes. Math is your favorite subject because you excel in it, so you’re confident to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You open your mouth to answer when you hear someone chime in from behind you. Pete fucking Parker. The bane of your existence. The boy who makes your blood boil. The boy who thinks he’s too smart to be there.

“Fifty-three?” Peter answers like the teacher called on him or something.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the teacher says and turns around to write on the whiteboard.

You look behind you at Peter with a glare. He always has to chime in and give the right answer even though you know it. It’s like he wants to prove how smart he is with his stupid crooked smile, his bright eyes, and his shy exterior. He’s doing this on purpose. He has to be. 

“Alright, kids, it’s time for a pop quiz. You know the drill. Turn in your test at the front and wait for the bell to dismiss you.”

The teacher passes out a pop quiz for all the students to take, so you turn around and focus on your test.  Your teacher likes to give pop quizzes every Thursday, so is it really a pop quiz if everyone knows it’s coming? You scribble your name on it and start with question number one. You circle the right answer, going down the line until you get to the next page. You think you’re going at a good pace until you hear a chair screech signaling someone is getting up.

It better not be him. I swear to God if it is… Peter walks by your desk and places his finished test in the bin where the teacher wants it. You gasp silently at the thought of him being done only minutes after receiving the test. Sure, the test is easy and everyone passes them, but he can’t be done that quickly… can he? Peter catches your eyes with a smirk when he walks by you, and you roll your own out of annoyance. You’re not so annoyed at him being smart. You’re annoyed at the fact that Peter used to be so different before. You’re annoyed because you can’t figure it out.

After class is over, you head to the lunch room to meet our best friend, Amy. She is already at a table reserving your seat next to her. You grab the lunch special of the day and make your way over to her with a not-so-happy smile on your face.

“It’s Peter again, isn’t it?”

“He finished the pop quiz in minutes!” She shakes her head and stabs her salad with her fork. “Amy, you should have seen how cocky he looked. God, I wanna wring his neck.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why he gets on your nerves like that?”

“Yeah, because he’s fucking annoying, that’s why.”

Peter walks in after grabbing his lunch from his locker and meets up with his best friend. You forgot his name. They talk all the time but you’re not really interested in his friend. Peter is stuck inside your mind as you try to figure out what’s different about him. Your eyes are locked on him, studying his every move, trying to figure out his next step. He looks the same. He talks the same. He has the same friend. Yet there is something different about him, something more dangerous.

“You’re doing it again,” Amy nudges you.

“Something is up with Peter.  Something is different. He’s different.”

“Stop stalking your crush and eat your food.”

“Ew, he’s not my crush.”

“Mmhmm.”

You grab a carrot stick to munch on while keeping an eye on Peter. He walks with his friend to the table they want to sit at, trays of food in their hands. Flash is at one of the tables joking with his friends when he sticks his foot out to trip Peter, expecting his food to go flying everywhere. What no one expected is Peter to catch every fucking item back onto his tray like it never left it at all. The angrier you get, the more you gnaw on your carrot stick. Peter used to be so clumsy but it’s like he got an upgrade, and you need to know how he did it.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious as to why Peter got what looks like powers?”

“Not really,” Amy shrugs and keeps eating.

After lunch, you two make your way to your lockers which just so happen to be next to each other. You might have bribed your way into getting a locker next to hers but it’s worth it. You two can gossip in secret without anyone hearing.

“Do you think there will be a flower in there today?”

“Probably like there has been for the past week.”

You put your code into the lock and open your locker, staring at the beautiful single flower resting against your textbooks. Every day for the past week, a single flower has been left in your locker by someone anonymous. It’s always been a different flower that has not yet been repeated. There is no note, no indication of who put it there, or why. Yesterday, there was a pink rose and today it’s a purple carnation.

“I think it’s romantic. Someone has a crush on you,” Amy grins.

“What do I do? I have to find out who is doing this.”

“Well, when did it start?”

“Last week on Monday.”

“Isn’t that when the new flower shop opened in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Stalk that place. Whoever is getting you flowers has to be getting them from somewhere, and my bet is it’s from that place. See who stops by there after school, see what they buy, and if that flower shows up tomorrow, you have your answer.”

“This is why I keep you around. You’re the smart one.”

“Street smart. You’re book smart.” The bell rings to signal the next period, and she slams her locker closed. “I gotta go. Tell me how it goes!”

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch, probably because you don’t have another class with Peter. If you had, you’d be spending all your time obsessing over him. God, you sound like a desperate girl. You’re not. You’re just obsessed with finding out what’s different about him. Why hasn’t anyone else noticed this about Peter?

As soon as the final bell rings, you rush out of school like a bat out of hell. You want to get to the shop before the other students have a chance to leave, If you’re going to find out who is doing this, then you have to be the first one there. As if the universe is on your side, you’re the first one inside the flower shop. No one else is browsing which means it’s the perfect time to find a hiding spot.

“Hi! Welcome in! Do you need help finding something?”

You look up and see the friendly female cashier.

“No, thank you. I’m just looking.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do!”

You walk around the flower shop and admire the different kinds of flowers as you wait for someone to walk in. A few people come in over the next two hours but no one young enough to be in high school. You’re about to give up when the bell on top of the door rings to signal someone walked in. You look between two flowers and see none other than Peter Parker. You quickly hide in hopes he didn’t see you, and by the looks of it, he didn’t.

“Hey, Peter!” the cashier greets.

“Sandra. How are you?”

“Good! Are you here for another flower?”

“Yeah. Something different. Something I haven’t used before.”

“I saved a good bunch for you.” She walks to the back and retrieves a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Instead of handing him the whole thing, she takes a single flower from the bunch and hands it over to him. He takes out his wallet to pay but she waves him off. “It’s on the house.”

“Are you sure? I’d like to pay some time.”

“You can when you get the girl. Did she find your other flower?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods shyly.

“Are you ever going to ask her out?”

“I don’t know. I think she hates me.”

“Well, after she sees this flower, she won’t,” she winks.

Peter takes the yellow flower and leaves the store. If you don’t get home now, your parents will be mad. You sneak out of the shop and run all the way home, excited to see what kind of flower you’re going to find in your locker tomorrow. When tomorrow comes, the first thing you do is go straight to your locker. Amy is already by hers, putting her books into it and grabbing the one she needs for her first class.

“Hey, did you stake out the flower shop?”

“Yeah. Peter walked in and got a yellow orchid. A single flower. He and the cashier talked as if they had known each other for years.”

You open your locker and gasp when you see a yellow orchid sitting at the bottom of your locker. You grab it with delicate fingers and admire the bright color against your skin. Peter thinks you hate him. You don’t. Peter and his friend round the corner and head in the direction where you and Amy are. Maybe you can get over your obsession with finding out why he’s different and just enjoy his company. Peter looks up and sees you with the yellow flower he picked out yesterday with a huge smile on your face. You wait until he passes by you to say what you have to say.

“This is my favorite flower. I really like it.”

You don’t have to look at him directly to see the smile that comes onto his face. Different or not, Peter is still as cheesy as he was when you first met him.

x

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

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fluff #peter parker fiction #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fan fic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

[smellingofpoetry]

Last Time?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Benny Lafitte

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: They promised each other it would be the last time.

Square/s Filled: “Age Difference” (@spnchristmasbingo), "Lingerie" (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles), "Dirty Talk" (@spnkinkevents), “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” (@anyfandomkinkbingo)

Warnings: age difference, smut, 18+, finger fucking, sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk

Rating: +18

Words count: 2460

A/N: Hi there! Not long ago I wrote a fic called “A few moments of madness” for the beautiful @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone. It was fun writing that one, especially the part where I left with that huge plot twist. I genuinely thought it was the end of the road for this story, though, until the inspiration hit me. And what was I supposed to do if not write it down? So, here we are today. I think I’m starting to figure out my way with smut, but I’ll let you judge that. Let me know what you think about it. Enjoy!

He was in big trouble.

Since his little accident with his best friend's daughter - if that's what you wanna call it - he tried to avoid Benny at all costs. He did a pretty good job if you asked him, until the Christmas holidays. He wasn't in the mood to celebrate since what happened with Lisa, and he definitely didn't want to spend Christmas under the pity glances his family would throw at him. Sunday's lunch was already too much for his own taste. So, he decided to spend Christmas alone for once. Maybe eating take-out on the couch just like a grown-up person would do. He had everything planned already until Benny asked him to join him for Christmas dinner.

Dean knew he should have ignored the bell ring - he knew it.

Either way, he agreed because it was Benny and because, of course, he felt guilty for what he did. So, now, he was stuck celebrating Christmas with his best friend and his daughter. Yes, the same girl he had fucked months ago, and he still jerked off at the thought of it, even though he would deny this last piece of information with all his strengths if anyone asked him.

Dean had a plan, though.

He had spent the prior night wide awake, planning his way through the whole Christmas dinner. It was a solid plan, and he was kinda proud of it. He just needed to stay away from Y/N and follow every step just like he had planned them.

What could possibly go wrong?

They were halfway through dinner and Dean was pretty sure he was going to hell. His plan, which was supposed to be solid, blow up in his face the moment he stepped inside his friend's house. He didn't even know how that happened, but here he was facing Y/N at the dinner table. He did his best to avoid her gaze and participate in the conversation, but if he had to be honest the only thing he could see was her bent down on his kitchen counter. Because of that he almost choked on his food on multiple occasions. Thank God his friend was too busy making sure everything was perfect for his daughter.

Yeah, his daughter…

Dean's thoughts trailed off again until he realized he was staring at her sweater a bit too much.

"Oh, crap, I forgot the beans."

Benny's voice caught his attention just in time to see his friend get up. Dean followed suit without thinking about it, too afraid to be left alone with Y/N.

"I'll go get them." he tried, earning a weird look from Benny.

"No, man, sit down. You're our guest. I'll be right back."

And with that Benny was already out of the room, leaving Dean with his napkin still in his hands, staring at the door. He cleared his throat, glancing at Y/N, who was watching him amused, before sitting down again.

"You're being weird," she told him while sipping her wine.

"No, I'm not." he scoffed, even though he knew she was absolutely right about it. Y/N raised one of her brows, watching him from the rim of her glass which earned an eye roll from Dean.

"Okay, fine, but in my defense, I just want you to know that when I came here, I had a solid plan to walk me through this..." he said, gesturing at them and the room they were in it.

"Oh, and how's going?" she asked amused, trying her very best to hide her smirk. Y/N figured she had done a poor job from the way Dean was looking at her - unimpressed.

"Clearly, it ain't working."

"Clearly," Y/N smirked, putting down the glass she was still holding.

Dean scowled at her, wanting to kiss that smirk out of her face. Wait, what? No. Absolutely, no. - he had to scold himself for thinking stuff like that about his friend's daughter, even if that same person was looking too damn cute for her own good.

"Okay, stop doing that."

"Stop what?" she asked with her brow raised in confusion.

"You know what! Never mind," he said, stubbing some of the vegetables on his plate with the fork. He didn't even like vegetables, for fuck’s sake. Y/N looked at him for a few seconds, glancing in the direction of the kitchen before leaning more toward Dean.

"Look, I know that we started on the wrong foot..."

"You can say that again." Dean scoffed, gulping down a generous amount of red wine.

"And I would like for Benny not to know about, you know..." she said, pointing at the two of them. "...us."

Dean sit up straight at that, putting down his glass and leaning more in her direction before speaking in a lower voice.

"He can never know about us," he said, panicked.

"So, could you, I don't know, act a bit more normal?"

Dean furrowed his brow, opening and closing his mouth a few times his mouth trying to find the right words.

"Yeah, right, right. I can do that," he assured her, even though he wasn't sure who he was really trying to convince, her or himself. She nodded her head with a small smile, satisfied by his answer.

"Great. And, oh, Dean, what happened between us..."

"...it can never happen again." he agreed, finishing her sentence.

Y/N was pressed against the wall, her Christmas sweater pulled up and her breast spilling out from her red bra. Her skirt was around her waist by now, while her panties were discarded somewhere on the floor. She could still picture Dean's face when he discovered the lingerie she was wearing under her Rudolph sweater.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of Dean's cold fingers against her hot skin. Y/N felt them travel along the inside of her leg until he reached her aching pussy. He ran his fingertips along her slit way too gently, making her ache even more.

"Please..." she moaned, letting her hips sway back and forth in search of some friction.

"You want more, hm?"

Y/N nodded her head enthusiastically, trying to stifle a moan and failing miserably. Dean smirked, biting down on his lips. Yeah, hell was definitely waiting for him, and he couldn't care much.

"Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me, sweetheart," he whispered, taking away his hand from between her legs. Dean saw her open her mouth, sticking her tongue out for him and he had to restrain himself to not groan out loud. Damn, this woman - he thought while pushing three of his fingers inside her mouth. Y/N welcomed him without saying a word, sucking his fingers as if her life depended on it. Dean's free hand traveled down his pants, unbuttoning them to free his aching cock. He pushed them down just under his ass, taking down with them his boxer. His cock sprung free, tip red and precum already leaking. Y/N sucked at his fingers one more time before letting them free, licking her lips right after. Dean didn't even give her time to think about what was coming next and his three fingers found their way between her legs again. He circled her clit a few times before pushing inside her wet folds. He fingered her hard and fast, watching her take it thrust after thrust while taking hold of himself and giving a few strokes at his hard cock.

"Oh! God... Dean..." she whimpered, moving her hips against his hand while trying to hold herself somewhere, anywhere. She could already feel herself getting closer and closer, already tasting the pleasure when his fingers stopped, making her whine. Dean put his hands on her hips helping her move on her unsteady legs, positioning her in front of the bathroom mirror. He stayed behind her, watching her intently while his hands traveled along her body. He reached for her breasts, squeezing both of her tits in his hands and making her moan.

"You have to be quiet, now, Y/N. Can you do that for me, hm?" He asked her, licking the skin on her neck before latching his lips around her earlobe. She bit down on her lip, nodding her head at his question. Dean smiled with her earlobe still trapped between his teeth. He sucked at her skin one more time just for good measure before helping her lean forward.

"Bend down on the sink and spread your legs for me."

He didn't need to tell her twice. Y/N bent down, spreading her legs in the process. She felt exposed under Dean's gaze which made her even wetter than she already was. Dean bit on his lip, unable to take away his eyes from her glistening pussy. He took hold of himself, letting his cook brush against her folds a few times before lining himself at her entrance. He started to slowly push inside her, his eyes never leaving the mirror to watch her every single expression. Y/N closed her eyes, biting down on her lips to stifle the moans wanting to escape her. Dean let his fingers disappear between her hair, gripping a few of her strands and pulling them towards him. Y/N followed his movement arching her back and exposing her breasts even more.

"Open your eyes, babe. I want you to watch me fuck you," he whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver against him. She breathed heavily, taking a few seconds to regain control over her heart before opening her eyes just like he had asked her. The moment her eyes opened and looked at him through the mirror, Dean filled her with a deep thrust. Her whole body was pushed forward, and Y/N barely had the time to put one of her hands on the mirror to keep herself from crushing against it. She tried to follow every push of Dean's hips, matching his rhythm.

"Look at you, being fucked in your dad's bathroom by his friend." Dean panted in her ear, while still fucking her with a brutal pace. Y/N bit down on her lip harder, but she couldn't help the sound that came out of her at Dean's words. So, she put a hand around her mouth not trusting herself enough to be quiet, not when he was playing dirty. Dean smirked at her reaction, thrusting hard inside her while one of his hands went to her breast squeezing hard.

"Do you think he noticed your absence or he's too busy with the new year eve's party?" he asked her, knowing full well she wasn't going to answer him too busy pushing her hips against his hard cock. He let slip his free hand in between her legs, founding her clit.

"What would Benny think if he saw you right now, hm?" Dean felt her walls fluttering around his cock at that, making him falter for a moment.

Y/N let go of her mouth free even though she knew that wasn't a smart move, but the need to hold on to something was too much. So, she held onto the sink not being able to do anything if not stay there and take every push of Dean's cock ready to burst.

"Dean..." she whined, hoping that the music downstairs would cover her moans.

"You'd like that, don't you?"

"Oh God..."

"Say it," he told her, rubbing faster and faster at her hardened clit.

"Fuck... yes! Yes... yes..." she sobbed while the hardest orgasm of her life washed over her; her juices coating his cock. Dean groaned at the sight of her coming undone and after a few more thrusts he was spilling inside her, filling her up.

"Fuck, babe, yes." he panted in her ear, while his hips spasmed a bit more.

Dean collapsed on her, being careful to not crush her against with his weight. He breathed heavily, resting his forehead against her shoulders. Y/N rested against the cool sink, trying to catch her breath while letting her fingers travel between Dean's locks.

"That was..." he whispered, licking at his cracked lips.

"...the last time?" she asked him, scratching at his scalp making him moan.

"Yeah."

"You already said that yesterday after you fucked me on your couch..." she whispered, glancing at the mirror to look at him. Dean hid his face in the crock of her neck, grabbing at her breasts and squeezing them.

"...and the week before when we fucked in your car..." she whimpered, knowing exactly what she was doing while he bit down her skin.

"...and at Christmas dinner..."

Dean pulled hard at her nipples, making her gasp, and her core clenched around him but that seemed not to be enough to stop her.

"...half an hour later I was sucking you off, remember?" she asked, pushing him away gently just enough to turn around to have a better look at him. Dean let her move, still keeping her trapped between him and the sink, already missing the warmth of her pussy around him.

"Yeah, I remember that like I remember being balls deep inside you while your dad was sleeping three doors down," he whispered kissing her hard, letting his tongue swirl around hers.

God, she was able to make him a needing mess - he thought making a huge effort to push away from her. Dean licked at his lips, tasting her while slowly starting to recompose himself the best he could.

"We should get dressed and go downstairs before midnight," he said to her, bending down to grab her red lacy thong. She nodded her head, starting to adjust her bra before pushing down in his place her sweater. Dean kneeled at her feet helping her with her panties, pulling them up at her leg, and stopping halfway through to give one last lick at her wet pussy. Y/N shivered at that, opening her legs a bit more to give him better access at which she earned a gentle suck at her lips before he pulled her panties all the way up. Dean got up, kissing her one last time letting her taste herself on his tongue.

"You go first, and I'll follow in a few," he said to her, watching her adjust her skirt before walking to the door. She put her hand around the knob ready to turn it when she glanced at him.

"So, last time?" Y/N asked him just to be sure.

"Last time."

"Great, I'll see you back at your house then."

She winked at him before opening the door and slipping out of the bathroom. Dean closed the door behind her, resting his head against the cool wooden.

He was a dead man, but damn if it wasn't worth it. 

#spnchristmasbingo #spnkinkevents #anyfandomkinkbingo #tell me a story bingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester au #reader #benny lafitte #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn au #christmas #smut

[queen-of-deans-booty]

What A Romantic Night

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Jensen x wife reader? Where the reader is wearing red lipstick and when Jensen came home from filming she put kisses in all Jensen body. Something fluff and romantic 

Summary: You plan a romantic night in for you and Jensen.

Square Filled: storm for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

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

x

The storm outside rages with lightning flashing every two minutes and thunder booming every ten minutes. Your husband is expected to come home any minute now but you worry about him driving in the conditions outside. He is a very good driver but water on the road and lightning in the air is no joke no matter how experienced you are.

Jensen has been working hard on his new show, Big Sky, and you’re so proud of him. He’s been putting in extra hours with the rest of the cast to get more filming done so they can get ahead of schedule, so you want to do something special for him.

You get dressed up in your sexiest outfit, there are two dozen fake candles spread across the living room, you’ve made his favorite dinner, there is soft music playing over the radio, and you made sure to paint your lips a deep red. That’s his favorite color on you so you make sure to incorporate that into tonight’s date.

Jensen finally gets home ten minutes later and shakes the water off his umbrella before walking into the house.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” He sets his keys on the small table by the door, hangs his jacket on the rack, and kicks off his shoes. “Y/N?” He walks into the living room to see the masterpiece you put together. He sees you in your sexy outfit and groans. “Baby, did you do all of this for me?”

“All for you,” you grin.

You saunter up to his side and he grips your hips not tightly but not gently, either. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to meet you. You kiss him with fresh lipstick on you but he doesn’t seem to mind if he gets some on his own lips.

“You got lipstick on your lips,” you giggle.

“I don’t care.”

He leans in again and kisses you for longer this time. You wish you could take him to bed had you not spent so much time on dinner. You pull away from him and wipe his lips to get rid of some of the red stain.

“Come on, the food is getting cold.”

You bring him to the couch and start to enjoy the dinner you cooked.

“This is amazing. You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?”

“I guess you played your cards right,” you shrug with a smile.

The meal was delicious and there is room for dessert which you have planned. You get up and take the empty plates from the table.

“Stay right there. I have dessert.” You take out the chocolate-covered strawberry and whipped cream. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

“You take my breath away.”

You set the tray on the table and hand him the bottle of cream. He shakes it and squirts some on your exposed neck. He leans in and licks the side of your neck, gathering the sweet treat with him. He sucks your skin into his mouth and you roll your head back with a moan. To have some fun, you pull away from him and take out the same red lipstick that’s on your lips. You put a fresh layer on and kiss his cheek, leaving a print behind.

You do it again to his other cheek before letting yourself loose. You press red kisses to his chest, collarbone, his neck, and his face. He laughs and lets you do your thing because you two are going to take a shower together much, much later.

“I love you,” he pulls you close.

“I love you more.”

Jensen stands up and scoops you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Not possible.”

x

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

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fiction #jensen ackles fan fiction #jensen ackles fan fic #jensen ackles fluff #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic

[drabbles-mc]

Curbside Service

Luca x GN!Reader (ft. Marcus)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: bakery

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: au where Luca runs his own bakery, my beloved. this is retaliatory insanity aimed directly at @narcolini and i simply have nothing else to say about it sksksk.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

For as much as Luca typically relished the hour or so at the very start of the day that he had to himself, he had to admit that he didn’t quite mind Marcus being there with him. He wasn’t expecting him to want to show up before five—he wouldn’t have blamed him for it either. Luca enjoyed the small hours of the morning because of the silence and peace that they afforded him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Marcus had the same sense of quiet, same calmness about him that was so rare to find in the kitchen. Luca really hadn’t known what to expect when Carmy broached the topic of sending someone his way. The memories of what it was like with Carmy in the kitchen were still clear in the back of his mind, and for as much as he respected Carmy, enjoyed the push that he got from him to be better, Luca was still painfully aware of the energy that he carried with him. He’d been preparing for more of the same, would do it gladly if it was Carmy asking, but he couldn’t deny the relief in him when he met Marcus and felt the easy-going energy he seemed to exude.

“Chef,” Marcus said in greeting as he passed through the kitchen.

Luca nodded, not looking up from his measurements as he listened to Marcus stroll by him to go and put his things away. “Morning, Chef.”

That was all the two of them said for a bit. Marcus came back out, tying his apron into place as he did. He found his place beside Luca and picked up right where Luca was leaving off. It was a routine that they’d found themselves getting comfortable in over the last few days. They would do their work, soak up the peace and quiet. Every now and then they’d chat, but it always felt purposeful when they did—it wasn’t just for the sake of filling the silence.

“Make up the next batch of these, Chef?” Luca asked, wiping his hands on his apron as he got ready to move onto the next part of his daily prep.

Marcus nodded, knowing that the question was only phrased as such to be polite. “Yes, Chef.”

He stepped away, making his way over to where he knew all of the baking supplies were kept. He didn’t have it memorized the same way that he did at The Beef—The Bear, but for how short his time there had been he was doing alright. He scanned the shelves, going back and raking over them again when he didn’t see what he was looking for, then once more even slower when the second through yielded no results. He didn’t want to ask for assistance if the answer was looking him in the face.

When he was fairly certain it just wasn’t there, Marcus took a deep breath. “Chef?”

“Yea?”

“Um. You guys got a secret back room you forgot to tell me about?”

Luca chuckled. “Why’s that?”

“Because if you don’t, we’re out of flour.”

The kitchen was silent for a moment as Luca stopped what he was doing and made his way over to Marcus. For five long seconds it was just the two of them looking at the empty storage shelves. Marcus felt himself tensing up, not knowing how this was going to end up. He knew how this would end up playing out in Chicago, but they were a long ways away from there now.

“Well,” Luca let out a quiet laugh, “looks like we’re out of flour, then.”

The genuine ease in his voice made the tension instantly disappear from Marcus’s shoulders. He laughed, too, before jokingly saying, “Guess we should just close up?”

Luca laughed a little harder at that. “Yea, quit while we’re ahead.” He shook his head. “I’ll make a call in a bit. Been too busy—didn’t realize the delivery hadn’t come through yet.”

Marcus nodded. “Heard.” He paused. “Now what?”

Luca shrugged. “Onto the next.” He nodded towards the doors that led out into the customer side of the bakery. “You can start on front of the house.”

He agreed without hesitation, the way that he always did in the kitchen. “Yes, Chef.”

Luca kept a loose eye on the clock while he did whatever else he could of the prep for the day. The delay was going to put them behind, but not in any way that wasn’t going to be manageable. In the back of his mind he was aware that the people who filtered in and out of the shop most likely wouldn’t even notice as long as there was something in the display case.

When it was finally late enough, he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. Scrolling through his contacts, he made it down to the list of miscellaneous vendors he’d collected over the years. Once he dialed, he leaned back against the counter, phone pinned to his ear as he watched the timer ticking down on the oven.

“Hello?” you answered, sounding frazzled even though the day had hardly gotten started. It was going around, apparently.

“Hey, uh, sorry,” Luca didn’t recognize the voice, and for a moment he thought he’d called the wrong number. It took him a moment to recover and say, “Just calling about a delivery.”

“Okay, sure. What about it?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Never showed up.”

“Shit,” you said before you could stop yourself. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, not that he could see you do it. “Sorry. Sorry.”

He smiled, not that you could see it. “It’s alright.”

“Okay. Right. Sorry.” You were trying to get your papers together, dig through the mess of a situation that had been left behind on the desk in the office. “Give me a second to get…get it together.” You heard him let out something between a hum and a laugh, but he didn’t say anything in response. Giving you the second you’d asked for, you assumed. Taking a deep breath, you finally said, “Alright. Sorry about that. What delivery were you looking for?”

The two of you went back and forth for a minute. You asked him some basic questions as you went through the papers, the orders that were pulled up on the computer screen in front of you. Then, sure enough, you found what you were looking for—a delivery that was supposed to have happened two days prior.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you said, pressing the heel of your free palm against your forehead. “Raf’s out and it threw a wrench into everything and his office is a mess so I’ve been trying to figure it out and some stuff, clearly, went through the cracks.”

“It’s alright. Blame it on Raf, yea?”

You laughed, feeling a little relieved at the ease with which he was handling the situation, but still anxious underneath it all. “Believe me, I will.” Leaning back in your chair, you tried to think about what your schedule looked like for the day. “I can run it over now?”

“What?”

“The flour. I can run it over to you if that works.”

“I can send my—”

“It’s fine. We usually bring it to you anyway. That’s,” you chuckled nervously, “that’s kind of the whole point, yea?”

Luca was nodding even though you couldn’t see him. Part of him wanted to say not to worry about it, that clearly you’ve got enough shit on your plate to try and handle. But he also knew that if the roles were reversed, he would be offering to do the same thing.

“Right. You have the address?”

“Um,” you looked over the order form on the screen, “yes.”

“See you in a bit, then.”

You let out a short sigh, glad that things didn’t implode like you thought they were going to when you picked up the phone. “See you in a bit.”

It wasn’t long before Luca heard Marcus calling back to him from the front of the bakery. “Chef?”

“Yea!” Luca called back as he started walking towards the door, fairly certain what it was about.

“Someone’s pulling up?”

“Yea,” Luca said with a laugh as he walked out of the kitchen and into retail side of the bakery, “the person letting you get the rest of your prep done, Chef.”

Marcus’s eyes widened slightly as he quickly started to follow in Luca’s footsteps, hardly even a stride behind him. Luca flipped the lock and pushed the glass doors of the bakery open. Reaching, he used his foot to drag out the doorstop to prop open the door on one side, Marcus taking the cue to do the same on the other.

“Wow,” you said with a laugh as you hopped out of the delivery van, “all hands on deck, huh?”

Luca flashed a quick grin as you strode up to him. “Make your life a little easier.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment as you registered the voice. “Luca? We spoke on the phone?”

“That was me,” he held his hand out for you to shake as he nodded towards the other man who had walked out with him, “And that’s Marcus.”

The morning had been such a whirlwind that until you felt the firm grasp Luca had on your hand, the warmth seeping from his palm into yours, your brain hadn’t slowed down enough to even register who you were really looking at. But then your eyes locked with his and every racing thought in your brain came to a screeching halt.

He broke off the handshake, an easy smile on his face as he nodded towards the van. “Thanks for this.”

“Yea, yea,” you worked harder than you should’ve had to just to get another word out, “no problem. Sorry,” you laughed nervously, “sorry it didn’t get here two days ago.”

Then it was just the two of you standing there. The concept of time was completely lost on you. It could’ve been seconds or hours as far as you were concerned. The only thing that alerted you to time passing at all was the sound of Marcus clearing his throat as he stood in the doorway of the bakery.

“These going in the usual spot?” he asked Luca, bag of flour held securely in his arms.

Luca looked back at him for a brief moment, nodding. “Yes, Chef. Thank you.”

Once Marcus nodded in understanding, Luca turned right back to you. You found yourself shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans just to keep from fidgeting with them. This was just supposed to be a quick delivery, and another quick apology, but now it felt like you couldn’t move.

“Raf’s out?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Yea.” You looked at Luca, saw the traces of concern on his face, and you shook your head. “Oh, don’t feel bad for him. He got hurt doing something stupid with his mates over the weekend. Messed up,” you gestured to your leg, “his entire shit.”

Luca chuckled, as much at your explanation as at your annoyance. You made it look good, somehow. “Left you holding the bag?”

You held your arms out. “Looks that way.”

“Still made it, though,” he said with a half-grin, like he was trying to soften the blow of it all for you.

“Two days late,” you said, almost like a joke even though it was the truth, “but we got here.”

You were vaguely aware of the fact that Marcus was still making trips back and forth with the bags of flour. You knew that you should let Luca go. You’d already put them behind schedule enough for not getting them what they needed when they actually needed it. But Luca didn’t seem like he was in that much of a hurry and if he wasn’t rushing off neither were you. You’d be willing to let the rest of your manager’s business crumble for a bit if it meant standing out on the sidewalk in the grey light of the early morning talking to a baker whose hair couldn’t have looked that good when he woke up in the morning.

“You’re not new,” he said it like a statement, but there was an unsaid question in there somewhere. He shook his head. “Never seen you, though.”

You shrugged. “Usually in the warehouse.”

“All the heavy lifting.”

Marcus butt into the conversation for a moment. “Least someone does the heavy lifting.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped past your lips. You covered your mouth with your hand, like that would unmake the sound. Neither of them gave you time to wonder if there was tension there, because Luca smiled and Marcus laughed.

“Be there in a minute,” Luca called over his shoulder. Even not knowing him, you could tell that there wasn’t any sense of urgency to his voice. It would be more than a minute.

Marcus mumbled something under his breath. It was too muffled for you to hear, but Luca must’ve, because the slick grin on his face got a little wider. Whatever mumbled shorthand they’d developed was effective. You watched Luca shake his head.

“I don’t wanna hold you up,” you said. It was a formality, of course—you’d hold him up all day if he let you.

He shook his head, the lack of hesitation almost making you want to believe him. “No, you’re good. It’s alright.”

You tilted your head, cocking one eyebrow. “Is it?”

“We’re already behind, you know?”

You laughed. “That makes it alright?”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

You wanted to say that you hated how the way he was looking at you made your whole face feel hot, heat creeping down the column of your throat despite the cool morning air. You wanted to hate it, wanted to think it was ridiculous because it absolutely was, but you didn’t. You watched him run his hand over all the patchwork tattoos that he had and you knew that you would waste away the entire day right there on the sidewalk. Waste his entire day too.

“When’s Raf back?” he asked.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Who fucking knows?” You laughed but you really didn’t have any idea.

“Then back to the warehouse, yea?”

“Hope so—his office gives me anxiety just thinking about it,” you said, chuckling at the truth of it.

“Organized chaos.”

“Nothing organized about it,” you fired back, trying not to laugh because the state of that room really was beyond the reaches of your nightmares.

You didn’t know why it felt so easy. You didn’t know what was so disarming about him. It wasn’t even seven in the morning and his apron already had steaks going down it, probably the last of the flour that they had before running out because of the delivery you hadn’t made yet. No on in their right mind should look as ready and happy about the day as he did, but there he was anyway. Mellowed out and positive in the face of it all.

“You should come by again,” he said, tone level in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to achieve if the roles were reversed.

It sent a jolt through you but you tried to keep it together. “I’ll come through on time next time, at least,” you joked.

The ends of his mouth lifted into a tiny smile. “No, I mean just come by. Stop in. Doesn’t have to be at six in the morning.”

“But I get all your undivided attention this way,” you said, shocking yourself with how easily it rolled off your tongue. You hoped your face didn’t convey the surprise you felt.

If he picked up on it, he didn’t say anything about it. He let out a quiet laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Your heart was pounding against the confines of your ribcage but you somehow managed to keep your voice level. “Right.”

There was the sound of one of the doors to the bakery clattering shut. Both you and Luca looked at the van to see Marcus lifting one of the last two bags of flour from the back of it. His gaze was fixed directly onto Luca as he said, “Last bag is yours, Chef. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Luca caught the way that Marcus’s serious façade cracked at the last minute, a grin on his face as he stepped into the bakery. Luca laughed as he called after him, “Thanks, Chef!”

You cleared your throat, trying to knock the dazed look off your face because you were certain it was painfully evident. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

Luca nodded as he looked at you. “Alright, yea.” His eyes scanned over you and you tried not to think too much about the way that his smile grew just a little wider.

“Good luck with the heavy lifting,” you said with a laugh, white knuckling the keys in your pocket like they would keep you present in the moment rather than getting lost in the imaginary future scenarios that you were already conjuring up in your head.

“I think I’ll be alright,” he joked as he stepped over and grabbed the bag from the back of the van.

It was shameless and you knew it, the way your eyes shot straight to his arms. But he started it, right? He looked first. Fair was fair. When your eyes finally made their way back to his face the smirk pulling at his lips said everything that his words never would. He was a gentleman for that at least.

“You’ll be back though, right?” he asked.

You knew that he had the answer to that question already just from the look in his eyes. You indulged him by saying it out loud, though. Maybe you were indulging yourself too. “’Course, yea. Starting at six AM, right?”

He laughed, taking another step backwards towards the door. “I actually get here closer to four, if you’re ever—”

“I’m never,” you cut him off with a laugh. You shook your head, getting yourself together for a moment. “I’ll see you, Luca.”

He laughed, nodding. “See ya.”

He was inside and the bakery door was shut and locked behind him again before you even managed to put the van in drive. You gave the place one more look through your sideview mirror before finally pulling away. You would be shaking your head at yourself for the rest of the day, for sure. But it’d be worth it. Going back would be worth it too.

Luca strolled into the kitchen, not saying anything as he went to put the last of the delivery away.

Marcus was shaking his head as he worked his way through the prep that Luca had decided to put off just a little while longer. He wanted to try and sound annoyed but he started laughing before he could take a good stab at it. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Luca was laughing too as he found his spot next to Marcus. “You had this under control just fine.”

“Like you’d know,” Marcus joked. “Too busy out there talking and not helping me with the two tons of flour you ordered.”

“Want me to pretend to be sorry?” he asked, laughing still.

Marcus shook his head. “Fucker.”

“Come on,” Luca feigned a serious tone, “Get to it—we’re behind on prep.”

The silence between them only lasted for another second before they both broke back down into laughter again.

#the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fx #luca #luca the bear #luca x reader #luca x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party bingo #slumber party