#but maybe I‘ll manage to get some stuff out of my head | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multifandhoem · 4 years

Text

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #server collab #haikyuuhq #multifandhoem #seijoh #oikawa #oikawa tooru #wedding #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #aoba johsai #iwaizumi steamy #steamy

3K notes · View notes

mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked

#dave york #dave york au #dave york x reader #dave york pit #oneshot #dave york x reader fic #dave york fic #professor!au #au

373 notes · View notes

91percentpynch · 3 years

Text

the cut that always bleeds - kevaaron au pt 3

kejerejean stans? this one is for you. no seriously this one is out of jean‘s point of view? cuz honestly i love that hoe so much. as always get your tissues ready guys. this is actually kinda long? and a mess? and no one beta read it so if there are mistakes or it doesn‘t make sense i‘m sorry!! this is not that sad? tw: mention of murder, mention of physically hurting someone, mention of stabbing, mention of the nest, mention of trauma

check this out to find the other parts:)

Jean has always been a light sleeper. He had to be in order to survive the horrors of Evermore.

So naturally the sobs - as silent as they might have been - woke him up. His eyes opened at once, he sat straight up. Almost automatically he got to his feet and left the room to get to Kevin.

After all, comforting Kevin was like breathing to him.

Jeremy followed Jean, because he would always follow Jean. Jeremy was like a moth and Jean was the light. Wherever he went Jer would follow.

So they went to Kevin‘s room. The striker laid in his bed, curled up, phone in his hand, uncontrollable sobs escaping his mouth.

„I see you took the call this time“, Jean said, surprisingly gentle.

„I wanted to end it. I wanted to have a clear cut. So tell me, why does the cut still bleed?“, Kevin whispered, his voice barely audible.

„Because it‘s a cut that always bleeds“, Jeremy told Kevin as he came closer, carefully and ever so gentle placing his hands on the other boy‘s back.

„He said he wants me to come back to him“, Kevin whispered while holding onto himself as if to try to stop himself from falling apart. „He told me he misses me. That he only gets high when he misses me“

It was quiet in the dark room, shadows were dancing, just as Aaron and Kevin used to dance in the dead of night underneath the night sky.

„You did the right thing Kev“, Jean replied in French while he got into the Bed behind Kevin. Just like they used to do in the Nest.

When Kevin was in his arms he began to hum a French lullaby into his ear.

Jeremy joined them after a second of admiring his beautiful boyfriend and the broken boy in his arms.

„Dude, do you want something? Hot coca? A special Knoxian hug? Us to get Andrew to gut that bastard? Wait, hold on. I forgot. Twin brother. Well, I can gut him for you? Andrew and this is a word by word quote told be once ‚You‘re like a little unicorn in a world full of wolfs with razor sharp teeths, learn to gut the wolfs, stay safe‘, so he taught me how to stab someone? Yeah okay that is not the topic right now, I can still gut Aaron though. I mean Andrew would try to hurt me, but then again I‘m his best friend so he does not have the rights to gut me, right?“, Jeremy offered him a toothy grin, while his hand wandred to his neck rubbing it nervously.

„Can you please not gut him? First of all: Andrew already tried to choke me once when Josten was in danger and I told them where he was, cause apparently yOu DoN‘t KeEp ThOsE tHiNgS tO yOuRsElF yOu FuCkInG mOrOn. I think you do keep those things to yourself if the other option is to get fucking murdered by the mafia??? But what do I know, am I right? After all I‘m just a narcistic, Exy-obsessed asshole without a personality. Bonus I have anxiety, panic attacks, probably depression and I‘m unlovable“, Kevin mumbled into his pillow, the voices of the other foxes, of the other teams inside of his head.

„Did they tell you that?“, Jeremy asked, not quite able to hide the sadness and pain in his voice.

„Doesn‘t eveyone think that?“, Kevin asked. „I mean I think they tend to forget that the woman who gave birth to me, the last woman who geniuely loved me besides maybe Abby, invented the job. I think they tend to forget that the fucking mafia killed her when they found out I‘m not theirs by nature, so the only solution was apparently fucking murder. Then they kidnapped me, brainwashed and tortured me to the point where all I knew was Exy. Oh and maybe they also tend to forget that Ravens were only ever allowed to do Exy, if you were privilegded enough sleep, and do more Exy“

„Kevin you are so much more than that“, Jean whispered into Kevin‘s ear while pressing him against his chest. Just as they used to do in the Nest. „I might be mad at you, because you left me alone with those psychopaths. I used to think you didn‘t care about me. But you were just like me, okay with less scars and less you know. However I cannot say I wouldn‘t have done the same. I understand you now, Kevin. And please, please stop saying those things. And now let us cuddle you and let Jer go through his ridiculous post break-up list. We‘re gonna cuddle you and all you have to do is trying to fall asleep. Used to help me when I was alone at USC. Could only sleep properly when someone held me. Well, Jeremy. Tomorrow we‘ll shove unhealthy food down your throat and watch Downton Abbey or whatever those historcial dramas you love so much are called. While stroking your hand or whatever you‘re into big boy. Afterwards we‘ll take the dogs out and force you to watch the fucking sunset. And I‘ll hold your fucking hand“

Kevin supposed the middle of the night was the time of long lost truths. „Okay“, he mumbled while he moved closer to Jean. Replacing his smell with Jean‘s. It took him a while to fall asleep but he managed.

At the same time Jeremy said „Mi amor, I love you, I really do, but that was literally the most romantic thing you said in the past two years? That is way more romantic than ANY date you ever planned for me? Rude? The audacity?“

„Moi soleil, you don‘t have the ‚cult kidnapped me and tortured me‘ card you can pull, you get the bonus treatmeant of any other people. Besides I literally have matching tattoos with you? I drew you like multiply times? I wrote like a dozen poems and at LEAST one short story? I wrote you a fucking lullaby? You have no right to complain right now, or you‘ll loose your kissing privileges and I give them to Kevin“

„Eww gross“, Kevin mumbled.

„I don‘t remeber you saying that back in the Nest“, Jean replied, poking his cheek.

Kevin didn‘t have the energy to answer. It was a long day. Sleep could have him for the day. Death’s little sister might claim him for the night.

This night he dreamed about Aaron. Strong arms around his waist. Golden eyes locking with smaragd ones. They were on some lonely beach, kissing lazily while the water kissed their feet. It was a beautiful day. Not as beautiful as Aaron, but then again nothing would ever be as beautiful as this specific piece of art. Everything was alright. Everything was good. Why couldn‘t it be the real Aaron and the real Kevin on that beach.

At about noon Kevin woke up to a drooling Jeremy on his stomach and the smell of waffles and soft French swearing in the kitchen. Softly Kevin woke Jeremy up.

„Sorry I always end up on weird angles and drooling on random guys. Jean used to get so mad when I fell asleep in his lap. But you can‘t take him serious when he looks with you with heart eyes trying to be Mad, can you? Anyways we should probably go to him and help him? Oh wait hold on a hot second there. I‘m banned from the kitche, so we can sleep? Right? Right?“

„I hate to break this to you Jer, but it‘s noon. So, no we cannot sleep. You can choose my clothes, though. I know you love going through my stuff and playing dress the doll, Kevin Day edition“, Kevin almost smiled at Jeremy, when he looked up at him pouting.

Then he remembered another blonde boy, pouting at him when he told him no. Another constellation of freckles around another, straight, perfect nose. Sinful lips softly turned up, trying to look mad. Hazel eyes instead of ocean blue ones. Messy blonde curles, instead of soft badly dyed ginger ones. Strong arms instead of lean ones covered in flower tattoos. God, Kevin missed his Aaron.

No, not his. Not anymore

„Okay, but you have to wear to fab outfit I‘ll throw in your face“, Jeremy gave him another easy, toothy grin.

Slowly the other boy got out of bed and went over to the cabet. Slowly Jer went through Kevin‘s cloths. After a while he slowly turned around, holding a jersey that is obviously by far too small for Kevin in front of his face. „What is that? Why do you still have his jersey? Babe, you gotta get rid of that, rather sooner than later“

Jeremy had the weird habit of calling his friends babe, baby, dude or bro. Before Jean he called his boyfriends bro or dude as well, but Jean was so confused by it he quickly stopped doing it.

„First of all: I‘m a weak ass bitch, it smelled of it. And secondly maybe I wanna stab it once I‘m over the phase where I‘m like madly missing him?. I‘d just put it into a pillow, stab at it like a maniac and then set it on fire. I didn‘t grow up with a psychopath as my supposed best friend for nothing Jer“

„Okay? Well I got your clothes. And you‘ll look amazing, cause it‘s the FOX ONSIE I GOT YOU!!! I‘ll wear my onsie as well, and I‘ll force Jean to wear his one as well!! Much fun!! Much wholesome!!“

So that‘s how Kevin Day, queen of Exy, landed sandwiched between his childhood crush and long life crush on their couch, watching Downton Abbey with a plate of waffles on his lap. This was nice. He might had actually enjoyed it, if this wasn‘t his and Aaron‘s show. They used to watch it, cry over it together, make out while watching it.

Thank God didn‘t actually touch him while watching Downton Abbey, he was good at daydreaming. Kevin would just had preteneded that it was Aaron and he thought him breathing Aaron‘s name was the last thing any of them needed today.

After their Downton Abbey marathon they ordered pizza, against Kevin‘s better judgement. Another traditon Kevin shared with Aaron. At finals Aaron would often forget to eat and Kevin was too big of a mess to be bothered to cook so he would end up ordering something every single day and feeding it Aaron while he studied on the floor. Occasionally he would earn a soft kiss, growing hungrier when the night grew darker. God Kevin missed the soft lips on his own.

Kevin would have enjoyed the beach, wouldn‘t he be dressed in a fox onsie, holding hands with a 6“5 guy who looked like he both could and would kill you in a unicorn onsie holding two tiny dogs in his other hand and with a 5“4 dude in a matching unicorn onsie with two dogs that were almost bigger than him.

At least this didn‘t remind him on Aaron.

Well, actually. The way the ocean softly kissed the sand, reminded him of his dream. And of the endless trips to the beach, sleeping in the car, Aaron on top of him. Lazy kisses and warm hugs. It was the first place Aaron took Kevin after their rehab. It was the first night they spent together, as sober men. Well, not sober per se. But drunk and high on each others love. It might had been the most painful memory of the day. God he missed those strong arms around his waist.

Nontheless the pain got less, he felt almost numb. Kevin liked feeling numb. Nothing hurt when you feel numb.

The sunset was beautiful. It reminded him of golden hairs, freckles standing against golden skin, soft lips at his ears, his neck, the corner of his lips.

„Aaron you‘re supposed to look at the sunset, you shithead“, Kevin used to smile down at him. „But I‘m already looking at the most beautfiul thing this world has to offer“, Aaron replied smoothly, locking eyes with Kevin.

When the moon took the place of his long lost lover they decided to go back.

It was safe to say that no one dared to think that someone would wait for them there. Especially not the one person they tried to avoid by all means the entire day.

„You said to stop calling. Never mentioned face to face conversations“, a husky voice said. And Kevin‘s world stopped.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #kevaaron #ship: kevaaron

31 notes · View notes

sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

Logan's Flawless Plan to Getting Out of Being Sick

Ao3

Summary: Logan was sick. He was well-aware of this fact. He was also well-aware that he had better things to be doing than lying about and ‘resting.’ His husband disagrees Content: Sickfic, fever + coughing are the only mentioned symptoms, brief unsafe binding, one alcohol mention, taking more medicine than the dosage amount, the consequences of that (gaps in time/memory, minor hallucinations, senses going fuzzy), half-collapsing, swearing, transmale!logan, transmale!remy, lots of sappy losleep Pairing: Romantic losleep Notes: Three of them: -Based on this post -You’ll notice Logan doesn’t try to keep Remy from getting sick. This is bc they both know Remy’s already doomed to get sick, given he and Logan live together. This was important to me to say bfchsdf -This story’s in Logan’s POV. And Logan is very loopy. Keep this in mind.

Logan was sick

“You’re not going to work today.”

Terribly, horribly sick.

“Yes I am.”

But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing his job, damnit.

Logan heard his husband sigh as he tried to properly tie his tie for the fifth time. The normally easy, effortless action had become difficult, his fingers slow and fumbling as he tried to pull the loop together. He dropped the fabric with a huff after another attempt failed.

Hands that weren’t his own entered his field of vision, tugging the tie off his neck. “You shouldn’t be wearing this anyways.” Remy murmured, likely tossing it to the side. “You’re already coughing enough without it.”

“I’m not coug-” Logan broke off halfway through his sentence, taking a moment to cough into his arm and think about the irony of the moment, “-coughing that much.”

“Mm-hmm. I call bullshit, darling.” Remy said, brushing some of Logan’s hair behind his ear before resting his hand against Logan’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sick, is what you are.”

“No, I just-” Logan once more paused to cough, Remy guiding him to sit back down on the bed when a few seconds passed and he was still coughing.

“You want to finish that sentence?” Remy asked, tone slightly mocking but mostly concerned.

“Alright, fine. I’m sick.” Logan admitted before continuing on petulantly, “But I’m still going to work.”

“No, you’re not. You’ll just make yourself worse, and you’ll get all your students sick while you’re at it.”

“They have better immune systems, and I‘ll keep plenty of distance between myself and them.” Logan reasoned. “I’m going to work.”

Remy shook his head. “You have a minor death wish, babe. What’s so wrong with staying home and resting and being doted on by your wonderful boyfriend?”

“Husband, Remy, we’re married.”

Remy’s eyes widened in both surprise and recollection, and Logan let out a little content sigh, leaning his head against Remy’s shoulder. “We are, aren’t we?” Remy said, voice joyfully awed.

“We are.” Logan confirmed. “I got you a very pretty ring for it and we exchanged some very cheesy vows and everything.”

“I know. Just forgot for a moment.” Remy said, raising Logan’s left hand so he could press a kiss both to the back of his hand and over his wedding ring. Logan knew he should tell him not to, warn him of germs and the like, but he found it doubtful Remy would listen to him anyways. “Now. What’s so wrong with staying home and resting and being doted on by your wonderful husband?”

“I have important lessons to teach. And it’s unfair to just abandon my students with no warning.” Logan answered. “They at least need a warning that I’m not going to be there tomorrow.”

Remy rubbed circles into the back of Logan’s hand. “You really want to go in, huh.”

“Yes. But only for today, I promise- I’ll stay home tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure you can make it through the day, babe.” Remy said, concern once more leaking into his voice. “Your temp’s real high, and you haven’t even been up for an hour yet.”

“One class then. I can leave a note for the rest of the classes. Please, Rem.” Logan begged. “Just one class.”

Remy pulled his head back a bit, still allowing Logan’s head to remain on his shoulder while also letting him look at Logan’s face. “Why do you want to go in so badly, hun?”

“I promised my students I wouldn’t flake out on them if they didn’t flake out on me. I have to keep that promise.”

“I hardly count being too sick to work ‘flaking out.’”

“Please, Remy, please?” Was Logan’s only response, using his new advantage of Remy being able to see his face by pouting. Remy always folded when he pouted. “One class. Just so I can leave notes for the students. Please.”

Remy’s resolve against his pouting husband lasted for five seconds. “You know I hate it when you do it.” He huffed, though he didn’t sound very annoyed as he moved to card his fingers through Logan’s hair. “One class. That’s all.”

Logan let out a sigh of relief and slumped further against Remy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Remy said. “But I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t try to stay longer. And you’re staying home tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. And you’re going to get changed into your comfy clothes. You don’t need to be in your polo and slacks right now.”

“Fine.” Logan said neutrally, still just thankful he had managed to convince Remy to let him go at all. Hopefully, going through the motions of the first class would make him feel better, thereby making him less sick, thereby letting him further convince Remy he was fine enough to work the whole day. A foolproof plan. Probably. “Can I at least leave my binder on?”

Remy went stiff next to him, which Logan thought was rude, considering Remy’s shoulder was much nicer to lay against when the muscles in it weren’t so tense. “Hun, please tell me you’re joking.”

“About what?”

“Having your binder on while you’re having coughing fits, that’s what!” Remy said, sounding slightly frantic. “Love, you know I’d give you anything I could, but you need to take that off. Now.”

Logan whined against Remy’s shoulder, not particularly inclined to feel childish for doing so. “I like it on.”

“I know you do, starshine, and normally I do too, but right now I’d really, really like it if it was off of you, okay?” Remy said, still sounding frantic though his voice was very gentle. Ah. That meant he was really worried. Maybe Logan should take the binder off.

“...Alright.” Logan mumbled, trying to not feel too put out. He was sure there was a good reason Remy wanted him to take his binder off. Granted, at the moment, he couldn’t remember it, but he tried not to worry about that. He didn’t need to remember all the important stuff. Remy would remind him. Remy was good like that. Remy was so, so good.

“Alright. That’s good.” Remy said, sounding calmer. He pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead before getting up, making sure Logan wouldn’t fall over without him supporting Logan’s head before stepping away. “I’mma grab you your sweater, okay? The nice, big lumpy one. And some other comfy clothes. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Logan nodded as he started to tug his shirt off, aware that his polo didn’t count as comfy clothes. Remy nodded with him before turning and wandering out of the room. Logan wasn’t sure where he was going- to be frank, Logan wasn’t completely sure where the door he had gone through led to, but he was sure that wherever Remy was going, it was the right place to be going.

Though it took a fair amount of fumbling, Logan managed to shed his shirt and binder, having moved on to fighting his belt buckle by the time Remy returned.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Remy said, dropping a pile of clothes next to Logan as he easily undid the belt, pulling it free of its loops before helping Logan to pull his pants off as well. “There we go.”

“I took off my binder.” Logan said, a bit abruptly. He knew that Remy could see that the binder was off and next to him, but he felt he had to say it too, just in case, to make sure Remy wouldn’t start sounding frantic and worried again. Logan didn’t like when Remy sounded like that. Remy shouldn’t have to be frantic and worried.

“I know, love, I saw.” Remy said, reaching up to cup Logan’s cheek. “And I’m so proud of you for doing that. You did very good, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “Yeah.”

Remy smiled at him. “Let’s get you into these nice comfy clothes now, okay? Then we can go and make sure you’re not late for class while also being very cozy and very lumpy. And I’ll be lumpy too so we can both suffer the world binder-less together, because I’m pretty sure that’s what true love is.”

“True love is you.” Logan said, and while he wasn’t quite sure where the words came from, or exactly what they meant, he was sure he meant them.

Remy chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re loopy.” He said, picking up the first article of clothing on the pile- a pair of dark sweatpants. “Now come on. Let’s get you dressed.”

It took ten minutes for Logan to get dressed, mostly because he insisted on trying to put on each article of clothing himself, only to be forced to accept Remy’s help when he proved unable to fully pull anything over his head. He did, however, manage to get the pants on by himself, and he decided that was the greatest achievement of his life.

Remy got himself dressed while Logan put on his shoes and prepared his ‘secret weapon’, only taking three minutes to get on an outfit nearly identical to Logan’s, which Logan considered to be unfair. He looked good, too, even in his bigger jacket and with his tousled hair. Logan felt and looked like a lump. A hot, frustrated lump. Though maybe that was the minor fever.

Logan took a swig of his secret weapon and tried not to choke on the taste. Hopefully the fever would be taken care of soon enough. And he could deal with being a lump if it made Remy happy.

At Logan’s grimace after his sip, Remy, who was waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, raised an eyebrow. “Forgot to add the sugar to your tea?”

Logan shook his head. “Not tea.”

“...What is it?”

“My secret weapon.”

Remy frowned. “Logan, honey, I can’t let you drink vodka while you’re sick. Or whiskey. Or whatever alcohol you have in there. And I definitely can’t let you bring it to school-”

“It’s not alcohol!” Logan defended, just managing to bite back on a ‘mostly.’ That wasn’t going to help him or his mission.

Remy’s eyes widened. “Rat poison is worse.”

“Why do you- it’s not rat poison either, I promise.” Logan said, taking Remy’s hand and squeezing it. “It’s just some tea. My throat’s raw, that’s all.”

“...I thought it wasn’t tea?”

“Did I say that?” Logan asked, because he really wasn’t sure. Everything felt fuzzy, memory included. He hoped that meant the secret weapon was kicking in and not that his fever was getting worse. He had things to do.

Remy was still watching him a bit too closely and Logan realized he hadn’t given a very good answer. “We should be going.” He said, hoping that would distract Remy. He knew pushing the point that he was only drinking tea would result in Remy wanting to taste said tea to be sure he wasn’t lying and Logan knew that wasn’t going to work.

Luckily for him, Remy let it slide.

“Yeah, we should.” He agreed, reaching over to grab his coffee before wrapping his free arm around Logan’s waist, pulling him close as they started to head for the door. “I already got the keys in my pocket.”

“I can walk perfectly well on my own, you know.” Logan pointed out, even as he leaned into Remy’s grasp. Just because he didn’t need to be coddled didn’t mean he didn’t like to be near to his husband.

Remy chuckled. “I know, babe, but I also know that you keep wobbling with every other step. I don’t need you adding a bad fall to your list of problems.” He teased. When he got to the door, however, he stopped before opening it, glancing at Logan with light concern. “Are you sure you want to go to work? I know you want to warn your students you’ll be gone, but the more rest you get, the quicker you’ll be better-”

Logan silenced Remy by leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’ll be just fine, dear.” Logan said as smoothly as he could. “But your worry is appreciated.”

Remy didn’t seem wholly convinced, but he still nodded, pressing a quick return kiss to the top of Logan’s head. “Alright. I believe you.” He said before he moved to open the door, somehow managing the feat despite still holding his coffee cup. Leaning slightly more into his touch, Logan allowed Remy to lead him out to the car.

The ride to the university Logan worked at was unimpressive, mostly due to the fact that Logan barely remembered a minute of it. He felt as if all his senses were going fuzzy at the edges, what little focus he had left becoming untrustworthy as he could’ve sworn he saw green stars dancing across the windshield at some point during the drive. The lack of feeling was, however, sufficiently numbing the pain of his fever, so Logan was taking that as a plus.

He only realized they were at the university when Remy was shaking his arm, looking at him funny as Logan partially snapped out of the daze he had been in.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sugar?” Remy asked, sounding once more worried. Logan frowned. He didn’t want Remy to sound worried. “We can go home if you need to…”

Logan shook his head instinctively when he heard home. He couldn’t go home. The whole point of this was to be at work and get into his schedule and pretend everything was fine until it was and feel better so that Remy didn’t have to be worried.

“If you’re sure.” Remy said, though he certainly didn’t sound very sure. Logan frowned more as Remy helped him get out of the car, leaning against him without comment this time. Remy made a very good support. Especially when the entire world was jumping up and down. Repeatedly.

The walk from the parking lot to his classroom was not one Logan remembered, but Logan tried not to let that bother him. He must have drunk more of his secret weapon, though, because the world was starting to become easier to focus on again. The world was also filled with purple and yellow scars that seemed to be tearing apart the fabric of reality, but Logan was fairly certain those were always there.

A blink took him from outside his classroom to inside, where he found his class already waiting for him, all eyes on him and Remy as soon as they entered. Good. They were there, and he could see them clearly. Double win.

“Professor…?” One of the students (send Logan home if he knew which one) said hesitantly. Probably confused by why Remy was there.

Logan patted Remy’s shoulder, hoping that would signal to him that Logan didn’t need his support anymore. Remy promptly let go of him, albeit slowly, watching Logan carefully to make sure he didn’t fall over the moment he stood on his own. Did Logan wobble? No, not at all.

...Maybe a little.

Logan rubbed at the new bruise he had on his hip that may or may not have come from him stumbling into a desk, hard. Okay, maybe a lot. But it was fine, he was fine- he hadn’t fallen over, yet, and that was what really mattered.

By the time he had made it to his desk, set in the center of the front of the room for a reason Logan was sure was very logical, all eyes were on him, including the eyes that were normally still on their phones or closed in faux rest. Another point in his favor. No need to call the class’s attention when he already had it.

Of course, now he needed something to start the lesson with. What was the lesson anyways? Actually, while he was wondering, what class did he teach? How was Logan going to start a class he knew nothing about?

Logan’s gaze flickered to the corner of the classroom, ignoring the sea of concerned looks from his students to focus on the concerned look from Remy, who had even taken his sunglasses off just so Logan could see it. If he had ever had them on. Had he? Didn’t matter. Unimportant. What was important was that Logan had an idea: if he didn’t know how to start class, he would simply steal Remy’s style.

That thought (and no others) in mind, Logan slammed his thermos on top of his desk.

The entire class, Remy included, startled at the noise, all thrown off by it. The only reason it didn’t startle Logan was because he didn’t hear it. At the newly bewildered expressions of everyone in front of him, he cleared his throat, still channeling Remy as he began,

“There’s more pressure in my sinuses right now then there is at the bottom of the sea.” A lie- the real problem Logan was dealing with at the moment was the fever he couldn’t feel but could taste (it tasted peppery, which was appropriate, Logan decided). That and the fact that Logan didn’t think it was humanly possible for his sinuses to be more pressurized than the bottom of the sea. Maybe it was. He should test that.

But not now. Now the class was clearly waiting for him to continue, and continue he would, because he had planned an entire paragraph of this and he was going to say all of it so long as he had vocal cords.

“This,” Logan paused. The container in his hand had a name. Too bad he couldn’t remember it. Logan clicked his tongue, deciding a substitution would have to do before he started again, “This thing’s full of NyQuil.”

That sparked a reaction- gasps from multiple students, and one person he was fairly certain was his husband yelling, “That thing’s full of WHAT!?” Logan nodded to himself. Good. Reactions were good. They meant that his class was following along.

“I’m going to drink it while I teach,” Logan went on, ignoring the continued gasps of shock and possible horror, “and when your heads are replaced by swirling rainbows, I will cancel the rest of class.”

That, of course, was a ridiculous timeline to set. The students’ heads would never become rainbows, swirling or otherwise, which mean Logan wouldn’t have to cancel class, which meant he could teach the full class, which would certainly go over as well in reality as it had in his head, and when Remy saw how well he was doing he’d let him teach for the whole day through. It was a foolproof plan. He truly was a genius.

“Professor… is that safe?”

Logan was pulled from his thoughts and mental back patting by one of the students in the front row. He wasn’t quite sure who they were, probably because their face was blurring into the student’s next to him. He took a swig of the NyQuil. Hopefully that would fix things.

“It’s perfectly safe, as long as I don’t die while doing it.” Logan answered, which was true. Another true thing was that Logan… didn’t know if this was safe. But NyQuil was medicine, so it couldn’t be too bad to take extra of it, right? Right. Right right right right right right-

“Sir, maybe you should go home.” Another student spoke up, sounding concerned. A chorus of agreeing murmurs rose at the suggestion.

“That’s what I told him to do!” Remy added from his spot leaning against the back wall. “But he said he had an obligation to not ‘flake out’ on all y’all lovelies.”

“That’s a great sentiment, prof, but uh… really unneeded.” A student who Logan could see right through said. “We’ll be fine without you for a bit… you should get your rest.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Logan said dismissively, taking another sip from his thing of NyQuil. He no longer cringed at the taste, mostly due in part to the fact he could no longer feel his tongue- therefore meaning he could no longer taste much of anything. “I’m perfectly fine to teach. There’s no need for me to rest.”

“Bullshit.” Remy said, pushing off of the wall and walking towards the stairs, though he didn’t go down them just yet. “I love you hun, but that’s bullshit. Do you even know what you’re teaching today?”

Logan frowned. “Of course I know. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Then teach us.” A student near the back said, which Logan considered rude, because he was fairly certain that student was ganging up with his husband to… something. They were certainly doing something. Something trap-y probably. Normally Logan was very good at avoiding traps. But he had to see them coming to do so.

“I will.” Logan told them flatly, doing his best to look as put-together as he could as he turned down to look at his desk. Surely, his lesson plan was somewhere there. That would have all the answers he currently couldn’t remember.

Luckily for him, his lesson plan was right in the middle of the desk, easy to see and grab. Perfect. Now, if the words on it would just stop dancing, Logan would have everything he needed to convince his husband and class he was perfectly fine.

Logan drank more of his no-longer-a-secret secret weapon as he lifted the paper up to his face, hoping that by decreasing the distance between his face and the paper he would also decrease the dancing of the letters. He was fairly certain it would work because ‘distance’ ‘decrease’ and ‘dance’ all started with the letter ‘d.’

Sadly, his perfect theory was somehow proven wrong- the letters got closer together when he raised the paper, but they didn’t stop dancing, now waving and wiggling in place, as if to spite Logan and his attempts to read them.

“Love?” Logan jerked as he turned towards the source of the word, surprised to find Remy only a few feet away from him. When had he gotten so close? “What are you doing?”

Logan waved his lesson plan at Remy. Wasn’t it obvious? “Checking the lesson plan.” He answered as he took another sip from his thing, ignoring Remy’s frown when he did so.

“I know I’m not a professor, hun, but I think that’s an attendance sheet.”

Now Logan frowned as he moved the paper back in front of his face, squinting at it. It seemed the letters were now willing to still, albeit only a little, just so that Logan could see it was, in fact, a list of student names followed by boxes that, when marked, could indicate a wide variety of things. None of the boxes could, however, tell Logan what his lesson was.

“So it is.” Logan commented neutrally, flipping the paper over to see if perhaps the lesson plan was hiding there. “So it is.”

“Yeah… sweetheart, I’m starting to think it was a bad idea letting you come here.” Remy said, prompting Logan to look up from his search for the lesson plan to focus on Remy instead. That proved hard to do, however, given his face was blurring into a swirl. Logan frowned, feeling distressed. Remy’s face wasn’t supposed to look like that. It was supposed to be pretty and have a chin and brilliant eyes and other features Logan was sure he also loved.

“Your face is wrong.” Maybe if Remy knew his face was wrong, he’d fix it, and it would look right and Logan wouldn’t have to feel distressed and upset and very unable to focus on mundane things such as teaching.

“And you’re proving my point.” Remy responded, though he didn’t seem to be trying to fix his face, which was very unhelpful of him. Though maybe Remy couldn’t see that his face was wrong. Maybe only Logan could because of his stupid fever. Of course it was still messing with him. Nothing another sip of NyQuil couldn’t fix-

“Yeah, we’re not having any more of that.” The thing was taken from Logan’s hands before he could actually get any of the drink into his mouth. He looked at Remy in betrayal as his husband opened the lid and glanced into the container. “How much of this stuff have you drunk, anyways?”

“Not enough.” Logan said, reaching out to take it back. Remy just stepped away, holding the NyQuil out of reach. “Remy.”

Remy just shook his head. “Nope. No more of this for you.”

Logan huffed and stepped towards Remy, reaching out to try and make a grab for the thing. “Let me-”

Remy grabbed the hand that Logan had put out, stopping his attempt and his sentence. “I said nope, sugar.”

Logan’s focus had fallen away from retrieving his NyQuil, however. He was now looking concentratedly at their linked hands, slightly wiggling his fingers in Remy’s grasp- experimentally, not attempting to escape his hold.

“...You good there, hun?”

“Warm.” Was Logan’s only response. Remy tilted his head to the side, confused, before his expression became one of understanding. Still holding Logan’s hand, Remy bent over and placed the thing on the ground before standing back up and moving closer to Logan, taking his other hand in his newly free one.

“Is that nice?” Remy asked, gently, which Logan vaguely registered meant he was trying to lower Logan’s guard and that that was Bad. It was, however, working, as Logan was now fairly certain anything outside of holding Remy’s hands was completely and utterly unimportant.

“Very good.” He said, very eloquently in his opinion. “You’re very good.”

“I know I am.” Remy responded, squeezing Logan’s hands. “I’m so good, in fact, I’m going to take you home now, because I should never have let you leave the house. A mistake, I note, was yours since you used your pout on me knowing full well I would not stand against it.”

“But my classes-”

“Would really prefer you stay home and rest.” A voice that was not Remy’s said. Logan was fairly certain that meant it was one of his students, but he didn’t look to check. He was extremely busy looking at Remy. “You look like you’re going to collapse, prof- just take the day off.”

“I’m fine.” Logan said automatically.

“None of us believe that lie, love.” Remy said as he released one of Logan’s hands. Logan whined at that, and Remy softly shushed him as he moved to rest a hand on Logan’s forehead. “I think the NyQuil’s made your fever worse-”

Remy probably continued speaking after that, but Logan stopped listening, instead choosing to lean into the warmth that was now against his already too-warm forehead. The motion of leaning in was slight, barely a shift at all, but it was also apparently too much, and Logan’s hard fought for balance completely failed him. He tipped forwards, not bothering to try and slow his descent as he began mentally writing his will.

Arms, warm arms, arms that were warm, wrapped around his midsection, stopping Logan from falling all the way over. “And look at that! You’re actually collapsing now. We’re going home, Lo.”

“Mhmmm.” Was all Logan managed. Remy was warm. Remy was really warm. And nice. So nice. Had Logan been trying to work? That seemed silly. Work wasn’t Remy.

Speaking of Remy, he was shifting Logan, pulling him up a bit and resting his head against Remy’s shoulder, arms wrapping more solidly around Logan, all of which were actions Logan was immensely favorable to. He was even warmer, now, and even closer to Remy, and Logan considered these to be very good things.

“I love you.” Logan murmured into Remy’s shoulder, because he decided right then it was very important Remy know that. “You’re very warm. And nice. And warm. And pretty. Very pretty. Too pretty.”

Remy chuckled. “Don’t mind him.” Remy spoke, though Logan got the impression he wasn’t talking to Logan. “He gets sappy when he’s loopy.”

Logan glared at nothing. He wasn’t saying he loved Remy because he was loopy. He was saying that because he loved Remy a lot. More than he loved… planets. And pencils. And peaches.

“You’re not making any sense, starshine.” Remy told him, and Logan realized he had been speaking out loud. Remy pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s forehead, and he melted even further into his grasp. “But I love you too.”

Logan smiled into Remy’s shoulder, ignoring the background noise of ‘awww’s he was sure was coming from his class. Remy scoffed at them.

“Can we go home now?” Logan asked, because home had bed and bed meant lying down and most of the time lying down meant lying down with Remy and that sounded very nice to Logan right then.

“Of course, honey. Can you walk?”

Logan considered the question for a moment. He probably could walk, if he put his mind to it, given he had mostly walked here and he had been walking earlier. But, if he was going to be Logan (and not Frank, why would he be Frank if he was telling the truth-), he didn’t particularly want to put his mind to it. So he shook his head.

“I think you’re lying.” Remy said, but he still shifted so he could pick Logan up- a move he had perfected back in their courting days as soon as he learned it was a near guarantee to fluster Logan. Instinctively, Logan’s arms wrapped around the back of Remy’s neck and he once more tucked his head into Remy’s shoulder.

“Do you guys, uh… know what to do from here?” Remy asked, the question clearly directed at Logan’s class. “Because I don’t think you’ll be seeing your teach for a good week.”

“You said two days.” Logan mumbled into Remy’s shoulder, though not very aggressively.

“Yes I did.” Remy agreed as he started moving, assumedly towards the door. “That was before you drank half a bottle of NyQuil in an hour and collapsed.”

Logan nodded into Remy’s shoulder. That made sense. Remy was good at sense. Remy was good at a lot of things.

“If anyone asks, we’ll say the professor was here for the full period before leaving.” A student assured Remy.

“And I’ll hold onto his thermos until he gets back!” Another chimed in. “Since you probably want to keep the NyQuil as far away from him as possible for now.”

The class laughed and Remy did too. “Yeah, no, I’m tossing out whatever NyQuil’s left at home. If you get a chance, I highly suggest you dump out the contents of the thermos too.”

“Will do!”

Logan felt Remy nod his head. “Great. So… that was easier to settle than I expected. Though I guess you’re all getting a free class period now.”

“We’ll use it responsibly, Mr. Professor’s Husband.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, kid, I skipped every class I could get away with.” Remy said before he pressed another kiss to Logan’s head. Logan, who was more or less completely asleep, made a little happy noise. “And then I married a teacher. Life’s funny.”

Remy let out a happy little sigh and Logan smiled at his happiness. “That’s enough from me. You kids have a nice day.”

And there was a good chance that something else was said or done after that, but it truly was very cozy pressed against Remy’s chest, and Logan saw no reason to bother keeping awake when Remy was taking care of everything so well. So he didn’t.

Logan wasn’t sure when he woke back up, but he didn’t mind that much. He did know that he was at home and in bed and that was nice. Logan also knew that the NyQuil was at least partially out of his system because his fever was back and it was back with a vengeance. He groaned, turning over and pressing his face into the nearest pillow.

Next to him, he heard Remy laugh, and a hand soon settled in Logan’s hair to card fingers through it. “Hey there, darling.”

“I feel like shit.”

“That’s what happens when you’re sick but you still try to go to work.” Remy softly teased. “And when you drink way too much NyQuil.”

“It was my secret weapon.” Logan protested. Remy laughed again.

“Maybe stick to the more conventional methods of healing next time?” Remy suggested.

“Cuddles?”

“I was thinking more homemade chicken soup and watching old game show reruns, but I suppose cuddles might work too.” Remy said. “Why? Is there a particular reason you mention cuddles?”

Logan huffed as he flopped over, glaring at a very amused looking Remy as he grabbed at his shirt, tugging as well as he could on it to try and pull Remy down. “Don’t be obtuse.”

“Oh you’re so weak- oh, babe, this is sad-” Remy laughed at Logan’s poor attempts to force him to cuddle, gently taking Logan’s hands and holding them in his own. Remy smiled at him. “You’re cute.”

“I’m sick.” Logan responded. “Cuddle me.”

“And why should I do that, now?”

“Because you love me.” Logan told him, shuffling over a bit so that he was closer to Remy, making the pout he then put on more effective. “And I love you.”

“I can’t believe you’re using the pout again.” Remy chided.

Logan pouted harder.

Remy sighed, but he still pulled up the edge of the blankets and sheets, sliding in next to Logan. “One of these days I’m going to find a way to say no to you, you know.”

Logan wrapped his arms around Remy’s chest, pulling him closer and turning his chest into a pillow. “But will you want to?” He mumble asked, not as concerned with the answer as he was with falling back asleep and trapping Remy on the bed with him.

Remy chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Logan as well, seemingly completely alright with becoming trapped as he dropped a kiss on Logan’s forehead. “Never. Because while you may have proven today that you can be wrong of many things, you did get one thing very, very right.”

“Oh?” Logan hummed, only half-interested in knowing what he had gotten right.

“Even if you do stupid things like go to work sick and bind while sick and try to drink NyQuil like it’s water, I still love you.” Remy said sweetly, once more running his fingers through Logan’s hair to help further lull him back asleep. “And as such I will always want to say yes to you.”

Logan let out a small laugh. “You’re a sap.”

“You should’ve heard yourself earlier, hun.” Remy said, chuckling when Logan’s only response was a hum and snuggling closer to Remy. “I’ll tell you about it later. Go to bed, starshine. I’ve got nowhere else to be and nothing better to do than love you.”

Deciding he’d mock Remy’s accidental rhyme later, Logan happily did as his husband said, putting aside the burn of his fever to focus on Remy’s comfortable, loving warmth, quickly falling into a sleep as gentle as Remy’s embrace.

#losleep #ts logan #ts sleep #ts remy #the cryptid speaks #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #sickfic #this is v self-indulgent i hope y'all know shbdjfs #also i dislke the ending but eh endings always suck abfhsjdf #bls enjoy my chaotic stupid logan and his loving husband #also i've never taken too much nyquil so idk if logan's experience is accurate #bls for the love of goodness do not test this #don't be chaotic stupid that's logan's job

412 notes · View notes

writingtoforgetreality · 4 years

Text

I‘ll make you believe in yourself again (Derek Hale x Reader)

Summary: Your parents pressure you into having good grades, not caring about you or your friends. They simply want you to be successful. One night, after a pack meeting, things escalate between you & your parents & the first person you thought about running to was him., [Teen Wolf-Masterlist]

Words: 2,719

Warnings: verbal abusive parents, angst, fluff, sadness, soft Derek (Is this a warning? It is now.), cursing but that‘s bc it‘s me

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

To say school had been stressful lately would be an understatement. You had essays to write, tests to study for & homework to finish. Teachers were always content with you though since you were one of the only students who payed attention, studied hard & always gave 100%. Spending time with your friends was rare but ever since you had been involved with the pack, you had been quite busy with helping them. You were human but a smart one at that. The pack simply was not complete without you.

Seems peachy, am I right? So thinks everyone. You just did not spill your problems to your friends, thinking they had better things to take care of. Matter of fact, every time you were with the pack was like an escape from your reality. You were finally able to accomplish stuff that was appreciated by everybody. This is why, whenever you told your parents you would be studying with Scott & Stiles, you were actually at a pack meeting, school completely forgotten.

Here is the thing: your parents. Even though they were hardly ever at home, they managed to create a living hell for you. The pressure they put on you was almost unbearable yet you wanted to make them feel proud. To make them feel like their child was not a complete fuck-up. Your mom & dad often were on business trips, you did not even know what they were doing on such trips & you did not want to ask either. All you knew is that, when your parents were at home, they always found a reason to scream at you & call you names. They wanted their kid to be the most successful of everyone. They wanted their kid to write straight A‘s. For a long time you had managed to do exactly this. Then the pack came along & you started to focus more on their tasks. It was more important, you helped saving lives. Of course your parents did not know this & you never meant on telling them.

Friday. Your favorite day of the week. You got up, went to the bathroom, picked out a nice outfit & packed your stuff to head to school. Your parents would not come back until Sunday so you could hang out with your friends the entire weekend. Your third period was chemistry. You had the class with Scott & Stiles, your best friends. When you found out about Scott being a werewolf, you were not scared, as someone would think. You were amazed & wanted to find out more about it. He was the one who introduced you to Derek. The oh so emotionless Derek Hale. You thought he hated you at first. He gave you the impression that he was fed up with you, reminding you of your own parents. You became more quiet every time he was around. Yet it did not stop you from having a crush on him. Derek actually enjoyed your company but of course he tried to push his emotions down. He would not get close to someone again. Still, he noticed when you grew more distant, he always had an eye on you but would not let you know.

Anyway, chemistry. Last time you wrote a test but you had not studied as much. Chemistry was one of your favorite subjects so you had never studied that much. You still managed to get a C which made you proud. You knew your parents would not be back today so you planned on not telling them about your grade.

As your last period was over, you went to your locker, meeting up with Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia & Allison. You would all meet at Derek‘s Loft in three hours so you got home, put your test on the kitchen table, meaning to put it away later, & made your way up to your room. Opening your drawer, you searched for comfy clothes & put them on. You decided on a big red jersey shirt & grey sweatpants. Pack meetings at Friday‘s always meant a movie night afterwards, your favorite.

You made your way to Derek, not caring to take your bike, you liked walking & the way to his loft was not that long. Arriving in front of his door, you wanted to knock but before you had the chance to do so, the door flung open, revealing a sternly looking Derek. He could sense you were here already & was a bit too eager to see you. You smiled shyly at him, focusing your eyes down at your feet. Derek shot you a smirk back but he knew you did not see it.

"Hi there.“ he said with his intimidating, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

„H- Hi, Derek.“ you replied, your voice shaking, making you cringe.

Derek stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. Surprisingly, you were the first one to arrive. Usually this did not happen, you were not as comfortable when you were alone with him so you always made sure that at least someone else was there already. You did not check the time though, way too excited for tonight.

"Can I bring you anything? (Y/N)?“ Derek asked, noticing you were not really paying attention.

"Um...actually, I‘m fine for now, thanks.“ you started blushing. The things this man could do to you.

"The others should be here soon. Make yourself as comfortable as possible, I know you don‘t like me that much. I don’t know if I scare you or anything but at least try to calm down a bit. I know your heart is beating faster than usual.“ Derek stated.

"Why would you think I‘m scared of you?“ you were taken aback by his statement. You thought he was the one who despised you.

"It‘s quite obvious, (Y/N)...You hardly ever talk to me, avoid my gaze & your heart doesn’t sound healthy at all when you’re around, like...ever.“ Derek said, his words somehow seeming hurt. Something you were not used to from him.

"I‘m sorry, I jus-" you actually were about to tell him why you behaved that way around him but before you had the chance to do so the door flung open, the others entering the loft. You shot a last look at Derek, eyes desperate to let him know & he knew something was up but now would not be the time.

You were all gathered around Derek‘s table, sheets spread across it. This was harder than you all thought it would be. After hours of what seemed like useless research you decided to wrap it up for today, settling up the movie night. Derek made popcorn & Stiles set up the movie. He chose Star Wars, of course he did. You were sitting at the end of the couch, this being your favorite place in Derek‘s loft. Before you could react, Derek places himself right next to you, offering you popcorn. You happily took some, starting to eat it. You could feel your heart picking up its pace & you knew Derek could feel it too. Anyway, you tried to ignore it & focused on the screen in front of you.

As the movie went on, you grew more & more tired. Your head leaning on Derek‘s shoulder. You did not really notice but he stirred, this being completely new to him. After a few minutes, he relaxed a bit more, draping his arm across your body. You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the closeness you two shared.

By the time the movie was over, you fell asleep on Derek‘s shoulder. The others already bid their goodbyes, silently making their way out of the loft, trying not to wake you. Then it was just you & him, alone. The moonlight let your face lit up in such a beautiful way. He admired your sleeping form, feeling happy you finally found your peace even though he was next to you. Your heartbeat was steady & peaceful. As much as he hated it, he had to wake you. You have to go back home, get some more sleep & meet up with the pack tomorrow.

"(Y/N)? Hey, (Y/N), wake up.“ Derek whispered.

You groaned, not wanting to leave your comfortable position.

"Come on, you have to head back home, we have to work some more tomorrow.“ Derek said lovely. Oh how much you admired this side of him. You felt safe within his arms, something you have not felt in a long, long time.

"What time is it?“ you opened your (Y/E) eyes & looked at him through your lashes. He could have kissed you right then & there but it would not have been the right time. He will get the chance someday...hopefully.

"11 pm, it‘s time you go to your bed.“ Derek answered, not wanting to let you go but knowing he had to. You started to get up, stretched & searched for your jacket. This was when you realized that you did not wear a jacket, just your jersey shirt. Derek already knew this so he handed you one of his jackets to throw over.

"Thanks.“

"No problem. Do you want me to bring you home?“ Derek asked concerned.

"Nah, I‘ll be fine, it‘s not far. Thanks though.“ you moved to his door. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you.“ Derek watched you leave. He then smiled to himself. So you were not scared of him. Maybe you all were just too oblivious to realize. Maybe everything will turn out to be fine in the end.

Standing at your front door, you searched for your keys. When you found them, you opened the door, stepping inside. You were surprised when you saw a light inside. You could have sworn you had switched off the lights before leaving. Maybe you had forgot one. Stepping into your leaving room you let out a short scream. Your mom & dad were sitting on the couch, looking quite angry. Why were they back already? It was not Sunday?

"Oh so you did decide to show up?“ your dad mocked.

"I think we made it clear that you are not allowed to go out except when you‘re studying. By the way...what is THIS?!“ your mother raised her voice at the end. You flinched away, knowing what was about to happen. Your mom held your chemistry test in front of your face, a look of pure anger & disappointment on her face.

"I- I can explain. It was a surpr-"

"CUT IT!“ your dad chimed in. Again you flinched away, trying to step back until your back hit a wall. This will not end well.

"You really don’t get it, do you?“ your mom asked. "We want you to be better but all you do is fuck things up. You‘re such a useless little bitch. You know what? Whenever someone asks me if I have kids I tell them no because I would be ashamed to talk about your pathetic ass.“ with each word her voice became louder & louder. Tears were streaming down your face. You did not understand why your parents treated you that way but you started to believe their words.

"I wish I wouldn’t be your father. You‘re the worst kid one can have. I HATE YOU, WE HATE YOU!!“ your father screamed. By now you were seriously scared they were about to hit you. They never really laid a hand on you but they had never been this angry before.

"I‘m sorry, I‘ll try to be bett-"

"Leave.“ your dad said dangerously low.

"W- What?“ you could not believe what you just heard. They wanted to kick you out. Yeah, they were verbally abusive but they were your parents. Your parents who were supposed to love you.

"LEAVE YOU STUPID BITCH."

This was all it took for you to turn around & sprint out of your, well not anymore, house. You did not even care to take your belongings. To be honest, you had nothing that really kept you there in the first place. You should have been glad, you were finally free. Free of your parents. That did not stop your from crying.

Without knowing where your feet dragged you, you only stopped running when you saw a big familiar building. Your tears blurred your vision but you knew exactly where you were. Derek‘s loft. You contemplated if you really should head in. Why would Derek want to deal with you anyway? Your parents were right, you were a fuck up, useless, pathetic. But where else could you possibly go? It was only then when you realized that it had been raining. Your clothes were drenched & you started shaking because of the cold.

You did not care. You were standing in front of his door, deciding to finally knock. You knocked for about three times, slowly losing hope. Derek was probably asleep. Maybe it was better that way. When you started turning around you heard the door squeaking.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here? Are you okay?“ Derek asked, concerning features crossing his face.

"I- I‘m-" you could not finish because your voice started to break. Derek took you in for a hug immediately. You held onto him like your life depended on it & cried into his chest.

"I‘ve got you, sweetie. I‘m here.“, (Y/N).“ Derek soothed you. Somehow his words made you cry even more but not in a bad way. You were so glad he was the one you were going to. How you ended up on his couch? You did not know. Eventually your tears stopped & you calmed down, exhausted by everything that had happened to you that night.

"I‘m sorry, Derek. I just...I didn’t know where to go.“

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?“

"Okay..." you breathed. "My parents, they have been obsessed with my grades for as long as I can remember. It all started out with them being disappointed but it got worse. They started calling me names, screaming at me whenever I didn’t get an A. Derek, they made my life a living hell. When I got back home, they were waiting for me, my chemistry test in my mom‘s hands. They started screaming, they scared me & then all of a sudden they told me to leave.“

Derek needed a few seconds to let your words sink in. Before he could speak up, you continued.

"I started to believe their words. Them calling me pathetic, useless...a disappointment. So when we first met & you acted quite cold towards me I thought you‘d think the same as my parents. I didn’t wanna bother you, that‘s why I kept quiet whenever you were around. Truth is, I‘ve been scared, Derek. I am so so scared.“ you confessed.

"Shhh, I‘m here. If I had known I would‘ve said something way sooner. I simply thought you hated me but as a matter of fact, I always had an eye on you & saw you slowly disappearing. (Y/N), you‘re not alone. You don’t need to be scared. You‘re safe with me.“ he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I don’t know what to do...I have nowhere to go. I have nothing, Derek."

"You have me, sweetheart. I‘m right here. You‘ll be staying with me, okay? We‘re gonna get through this together. I‘ll make you believe in yourself again, I promise." he said sincerely.

"The thing is...I can’t be saved. How will you make me believe in myself again?"

"Well, for starters, I believe in you.“ Derek looked into your (Y/E) eyes.

"Why though?" you asked?

Derek slowly leaned in, searching for any rejection. When he saw you did not move, he put his soft lips onto your own, moving in sync. When Derek could not make you believe with his words, he would try to make you believe with his actions. You scooted closer to him if that was possible at this point. After your kiss, you stayed close together, simply enjoying each other’s company.

"And I thought you hated me." you whispered.

"And I thought YOU hated me.“ Derek chuckled. Maybe he was right. Maybe everything was meant to turn out like this. For now, you felt safer than ever, in the arms of Derek. Derek, who would try everything to keep you happy. Forever.

Published 02/29/2020 by Cathy

409 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

if you want an idea for a specific continuation, maybe after Antoni is done showering, he can’t fall back asleep and Chris notices it and Antoni opens up a bit about his past while Chris comforts him? I just want him to be happy okay (also, “Get Up” was fantastic)

CW: Extensive discussion of scarring/scars, negative stimming (rocking, mostly, but it’s described in detail, just an fyi), references to past torture and PTSD. Noncon touching (nonsexual and not whumpy, but still)

Post-Get Up, this is pretty much just a wee little epilogue for it. Tagging my Antoni and Chris people: @astrobly, @finder-of-rings, @burtlederp, @oofowouchies, @orphceus, @pretty-face-breaker, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @thebirdsofgay, @whumpfigure, @doveotions, @newandfiguringitout, @endless-whump, @stxckfxck, @slaintetowhump

“Why... why are you here, Chrisha?” Antoni’s voice trembles a little, leftovers from the cold shower. Chris’s fingers press over his skin, trail his neck to push into his pulse point and feel at the lymph nodes there. Every touch is too warm, burns him all over again, but he can’t move to push him away. He can barely breathe to speak.

Chris doesn’t answer him at first. He’s kneeling on the tile floor, water soaked through the knees of his jeans and half-drowning in one of Jake’s old t-shirts, rocking forward and back, his eyes narrowed and intensely focused in a way that Chris never is. The blue feather necklace he always has around his neck swings forward and bumps back into his chest with the force of his rocking, and Antoni’s eyes keep drifting there, caught by the rhythmic motion, feeling like he’s being hypnotized.

He feels a strange little urge to swipe his hand out, like a cat batting at a swinging mouse.

“F-for, for, for-for you, here for you,” Chris mumbles, in a voice Antoni has never heard him use. It’s flat and strange, like he’s speaking from a thousand miles inside his mind. The fingers run down over exposed collarbone, trail a tiny line of scars there, mark each one.

He’s lost in the change of texture, maybe, or maybe it’s just that pushing down how he wants to respond to this evidence of Antoni’s evil, his sin, is taking too much out of him and there isn’t enough left to show on the outside.

“Chrisha-”

Chris just shakes his head, rocks a little harder. It’s in moments like this where Antoni can see the worry that Jake and Nat still have over him, these minutes ticking by where Chris is gone somewhere inside himself, buried in the stimuli that comes from pressing his fingers slowly over the way Antoni’s skin is slippery-wet here, and roughened there, again and again and again. Antoni has seen this only once or twice before - Chris just barely dancing around or avoiding panic by retreating into his own head, desperately chasing the safety there.

“Please-... please stop,” Antoni whispers. Chris doesn’t even seem to hear him.

It’s Antoni’s fault, really.

He had stayed curled up in the bottom of the tub letting the water run over him in icy rivulets and streams for as long as he could stand it, until the shakes were too much for him and he’d only barely managed, with numb, fumbling fingers, to turn the water off.

He hadn’t gotten out of the tub so much as he’d just draped himself over the side until gravity did the work for him and let him land with his body on the bathmat and his legs and head against cool tile, water dripping from his hair to pool and puddle beneath his cheek.

He looked like the chalk outline of a body at the beginning of a crime show. He felt a little more than halfway there, too.

Chris had waited as patiently as he could but worry had overrun his deep respect for privacy and he had found Antoni like that, still naked and shuddering, and now... this.

Chris’s lips are moving without sound, and Antoni stares at them, breathing slowly and with effort, until he realizes that he is watching Chris count his scars. His mouth moves each time his finger presses against a roughened circle of skin.

“More than two hundred,” Antoni says, softly. It’s the strongest his voice has felt since he fell asleep.

“Wh-what?” Chris doesn’t look up, and the rocking pauses, briefly, but then starts up again. What matters, though, is that he pulls his hand back and away, and Antoni can breathe more easily at the lack of touch than he could at the trailing, skimming, light-fingered consideration of every mark he earned.

“I have... more than two hundred... of those. I had Dr. Masood count them when I first... came to live at Natalie’s house. Chrisha, I need you to help me up. I c-can’t... can’t stand.”

“All from him?” Chris asks it quickly, in a single breath.

There is always a him, a her, a them.

“All,” Antoni says, as firmly as he can in a voice that still shakes. “Pl-please, Chrisha. I need you to come back to me, for a minute.”

Chris’s eyes flicker to his and they’re still gone, for a moment, before the fog in them recedes enough for him to nod and press his lips together. The rocking stills and he pushes himself back into crouch, sliding his arms under Antoni’s.

Antoni hisses at the sudden burn of the warmth of him against skin that still feels like ice.

“W-why, why, why why why, why don’t you, why, why don’t I-”

“Know about them?” Antoni leans heavily on Chris, all but falls against him, and his attempts to walk are really just Chris dragging him across the floor with his feet only barely managing to occasionally move in time.

“Um. Yes, I want-... why don’t you-... why don’t we, we know? Does Jake know?”

“No. No one knows.” Antoni’s forehead falls against the side of Chris’s neck and soft blue hair brushes him. He smiles, faintly. “Just you now, I guess.”

“So, so why-”

“Some scars are mine to keep.” He lets himself be put into bed, only vaguely aware he’s not in his own, but in Chris’s bed, in the bedroom they keep here for him where he sleeps on weekends when he’s not staying in his dorm or with Laken. “To make my body my own, I have to keep my scars my own. Do you understand?”

Some scars were mine to earn, they don’t belong to anyone but me. I am the one who made him put them there.

“No,” Chris says, covering Antoni up in his blankets, and the weighted one on top feels like a hand softly pressing Antoni into the mattress. A hand, or a body. His breath comes a little more easily, blinking slowly. “I don’t. They, they, they-they don’t... don’t-don’t give us scars, that’s-”

“They still give you scars.” Antoni grins, a faded shadow of a smile, and reaches up to press into the center of Chris’s forehead. “Yours are in here, Chrisha, and they are just a real. Mine are more visible, that is all. I am sorry I scared you. I haven’t felt well, I did not realize I was so sick so quickly...”

He hadn’t known he was dreaming, it had been so perfectly vivid. Hadn’t he heard once that you can’t smell in your dreams? But he had smelled the cloves, overwhelming, almost sweet. He hadn’t realized any of it was a dream.

“I’ll... I‘ll get you some medicine.” Chris all but vanishes out of the room - Antoni blinks and the blue-haired boy is gone when his eyes open again. He lays there, blinks again - and Chris is back, staring worriedly at him, fingers twisting at the feather he wears around his neck with one hand holding a small cup with a thick syrupy liquid in the other.

“Did I... fall asleep?”

“I, I think so. I’m sorry, I-I poured out the liquid before I remembered you, you, you can take, um, pills.”

“That is just fine.” Antoni tried giving him a supportive smile, even if it wavered, and drank the disgusting sticky grape-y mess down in one gulp, like taking a shot of the world’s worst vodka. “Chrisha please-... do me a favor? Yes? I need... hot water and the raspberry jam I keep in the fridge. Mix together, to make a tea.”

“Um. Why?”

“I don’t know.” Antoni lays back against the pillow, closing his eyes again. “I just know it will help.” There’s a silence, and when he looks, Chris is rocking again, eyes focused on the curve of Antoni’s shoulder showing above the blankets, a tiny circle of scars there. “Chrisha.”

“Yes?” Chris blinks, broken out of his impending fog once more. “Oh, s-sorry, I’ll, I’ll get the, uh, the tea and-and, and, and the water... the water-tea...”

“Please.” He hesitates. “Would you... want to know about my him, Chris?”

Chris swallows, and slowly nods. “You, you, you-you know about mine. But, but, but-but you don’t have to-”

“You cannot understand my scars unless you understand why I hide them.” Antoni smiles, a little weakly. He can feel the warmth of the blankets around him but somehow they don’t seem to penetrate the first layers of skin, he is still cold, shivering. “The tea can wait. Come... come here, please.”

He holds out a hand and Chris climbs immediately into the bed with him, laying on top and to the side with his arm across Antoni’s chest, tucking his head under his chin the way he does with Jake. He smells like the shampoo he uses at the dorms and a whisper of a different kind of scent Antoni thinks must be the gingery stuff Laken wears on their neck and wrists. Chris has smelled like that before.

But why is he here, smelling like Laken and still alone?

The answer can wait.

Instead, Antoni tightens his arm around Chris, letting fingers run lightly through the blue hair as though watching a waterfall part around them, and says softly, “My him had a first name, but I was not allowed to use it.”

125 notes · View notes

poeticaddiction · 4 years

Text

You had no idea why you were here again. After hall the pain Chris had caused you never wanted to get back together with him. It was hard enough acting like everything was okay in front of your 3 year old son and 6 year old daughter.

Chris wanted to propose to you. He had everything planned but one night he got too drunk with his friends and cheated on you with some random woman. No one would‘ve found out but he was way to stupid and took her to the apartment you shared where not you but your daughter caught him.

Now tell me how you would explain to a 4 year old child why her father was kissing another woman. The media was going crazy, following you and your kids and attacking you with questions till the day came you could not take it anymore.

You packed your bags and moved to another state. It took some time till you could talk to Chris again but you wanted to have a ,,normal“ relationship because of the kids.

He tried everything he could to make you forgive him but nothing worked. Until this one day where you were sitting in front of the television watching Jimmy Fallon with your daughter because she wanted to see her father.

Chris walked towards Jimmy, shaking his hand and sitting down. He was wearing that black shirt you once got him for Christmas and of course he looked great as always.

,,So Chris. How are you doing?“

Jimmy asked as he watched Chris take a zip from his water.

,,Oh you know. Everything is fine as usual.“

,,There were rumors about you dating one of your co-stars. Is this true?“

Your heart stopped for a second and you did not knew why. For some reason it was bothering you if Chris would have moved on by now.

,,Nope. Not true. I said it once and I will say it again. Y/N is the only person I love and after everything that happened I still love her. I‘m not lying when I say that she is my one true love. And I‘ll wait for her no matter how long it takes.“

You sat there with your daughter, your mouth wide opened as you looked at the man you were supposed to hate saying in front of millions of people that you were the one he loved.

You were completely confused but managed to grab your phone and dial your friends phone number.

,,Y/N! Good that you‘re calling. Have you seen-"

,,Yes. Yes I did. I need you to come over here now to take care of the kids. I‘m heading to New York.“

,,Thank god finally!“

You hung up the phone and packed some stuff into your bag, saying goodbye to your kids and your friend as you sat down in your car and headed over to the airport.

Some may think this was a complete stupid idea but for some reason it felt right. After a 3 hour flight you arrived in New York and headed straight to the Hotel Chris would usually be staying during his trips to New York and after talking to the receptionist and explaining who you were he gave you Chris room number.

With every step that you were closer to his hotel room you got more nervous. What were you supposed to say. How would he react. Maybe it was a not a good idea to come here but before you could turn around you had already knocked on his door and after he few minutes he was standing in front of you wearing only his boxers.

,,Y/N? What are you doing here?“

You did not answer his question but stepped inside, throwing your bag onto his bed as you turned around and took a deep breath.

,,Were you serious?“

,,What?“

,,Were you serious about what you said on the Show. Or was this just a lie because if it‘s a lie I swear to god Chr-"

,,No. It was not a lie. Every single word was 100% true. I love you Y/N and I already apologized so many times but I will do it again if I need to.“

You looked into his eyes and saw the tears forming. You hated seeing him like that. But were you able to forget all the pain he caused you?

,,Would you give up drinking Alcohol for me?“

,,Yes. If it helps I haven‘t touched a single glass of beer or any other alcohol the last 2 years because I felt so guilty.“

,,Good.“

,,....So...what does this mean now?“

You sighed and stepped a little bit closer.

,,Listen Chris. I don‘t know what is going on with me but I think I‘ve reached a point where I can say that I can forgive you. This does not mean that I trust you again but I think we can work this out. I had enough time to think and I guess the fact that I flew all the way here shows that I still care for you.“

,,Oh thank god.“

Before you could say something else he grabbed you and pressed his soft lips to yours. It sent shivers down your hole body but after 2 years you needed this. Letting yourself fall into this mans arms and just enjoying his company.

It may be a long way to go but together the journey but be easier.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans drabble #chris evans angst #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

164 notes · View notes

jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Professor Sugar - 5/7

Pairing: Student!Reader x Professor!Bucky Description: Like tons of other students you struggle with finances, but you can’t get any aid since your parents are filthy rich. The system doesn’t care that they broke off contact after you came out as bisexual. There is, however, someone else that cares. The prof of your class on PTSD and trauma. Professor Barnes. Warnings: 18+, f/m smut, oral (female receiving), secret relationship, not beta read.

Professor Sugar Masterlist // Masterlist

Symbiosis

Not too long after a routine had started to develop he finally took you to his place after one of your study and work sessions in his office. You knew this was about to get real. Until now it was a cute little romance with a few kisses behind the curtains. While you were sitting in his car, watching his eyes concentrated on the street, you realized how much more this would be set in stone. „You look cute when you drive.“ You mumbled towards him, cuddled into your jacket on the passenger seat. „Well, you look cute always.“ He chuckled before he turned into a side street with a few apartment complexes.

The moment you walked into his door you were met with a mix of white, black, navy and dark wood. „You really fucking play into this professor thing.“ You mumbled while looking around. Most walls were white, some with pictures in dark wood frames, his open living room had a bookcase wall full of all kinds of books and magazines. Most of his decor was white and navy, his kitchen black and white. „But you like it.“ He murmured into your ear and made you chuckle. „I mean, it could look worse.“ You looked up at him beside you. „Want some lunch, darling?“ He asked putting a bit of hair behind your ear. „Sure, why not?“ You smiled up before following him towards the kitchen.

White marble counters, probably fake, but looking good nonetheless. You jumped up to sit down on the isle and dangled your legs back and forth. „What would you like? Pancakes? Pasta?“ „Pasta, always. Although the pancakes sound good for another time.“ You bit your lip as he started putting a pot of water on the stove and started cutting up tomatoes. He looked like someone who cooked every now and then as a hobby. There were some cool appliances on the counter opposite to the kitchen isle. „I don‘t know if this hot or just domestic.“ You commented and had him look over with a little smile. „I‘d be happy with spreading either of those vibes.“ He answered before putting the stuff he cut up into another pot, pouring sieved tomatoes over it and dumping a pack of pasta into the water. „Hmm, what else do you like to cook?“ You asked with him leaning back across from you now. „I make a mad Asparagus-Potato-Tart and I also like to think that I make great stuffed tomatoes.“ He smiled proudly. „I like to make layered desserts for my friends‘ birthdays...and cupcakes.“ You smiled brightly and had him move right in front of you. „What else?“ He smiled up at you, more boyish than usual. You liked that look on him. „Mushroom soup, all self-made.“ You smiled. „You‘ll have to make me something next time.“ His voice dropped. „Sure, if you don‘t die a sudden sugar death.“ You giggled and were interrupted by a kiss. „If I die from sweetness, then it‘s from your sweetness.“ He murmured before leaving you there hot in your face while he finished making the food. After you ate while sitting on the kitchen isle together and you had an entire talk about the shittiness of your rich parents, he jumped back down onto the floor. The dirty plates landed in the dishwasher and the pots in the sink. He turned around with a suave look on his face and started talking again, „What do you say...good grades mean you‘ll get something nice. Letting me take care of you means you‘ll get something special.“ He suggested. „Like what?“ You smirked while leaning back, your legs slowly going apart. „Don‘t know. Maybe clothes, jewelry, a new phone?“ He grabbed you closer by one leg and your lower back and his voice got low, „Fancy underwear, sex toys, a new bed.“ „Why a new bed?“ You grinned. „Might ruin the one you have now, if you keep teasing me like that, sweetheart.“ He answered almost growling, making you shiver. „You like that?“ He whispered into your ear. „Yes. Yes I do.“ You whispered a little out of it. „You want me to take care of you, darling?“ His hands went up your thighs now, sending tingles down up your body. „Please, I haven‘t had good sex in months.“ You whined and got a chuckle back. „Don‘t worry, I‘ll take care of you.“ He murmured, his lips tracing your neckline and shoulder. „Up.“ He tapped your thighs and you did as you were told. His hands delicately removed your leggings and panties. Only thing still covering you being your big hoodie. His hands gently pushed apart your legs again and his lips now traced from your right knee towards your center. His attentive eyes were trained on you as your head fell back with a moan. A tongue went through your folds and swirled around your clit as you shivered again. „Oh fuck.“ You moaned out again as he pushed your legs to stay where they are. One of your hands went to grab into his short hair to grab his mouth as close to your center as you can. He got the note and licked right over your sweet spot. „Please.“ You whined out before he sucked it in and made your moan out. He went for it now, shaking his head, sucking in your clit and humming. Your body started shaking, shivering and concentrating its energy onto that one spot. „Holy shit!“ You panted as he pushed to fingers into you and stroking that spot. „Bucky.“ You moaned out and felt him chuckle. „Oh shit, I‘m gonna-“ you moaned out again and were unable to talk again. With another suck of your clit you came all over his chin with a loud groan. „That‘s my girl.“ He chuckled, cleaning his face off, „And now I‘ll actually take care of you.“ He got rid of his pants and climbed on top of you, smiling down. „I guess tomatoes aren‘t the only things you like to stuff in the kitchen.“ you commented dryly and you both broke out into laughter, before he shut you up with a kiss and a push. He managed the perfect balance between making love and merciless fucking. Just the right amount of delicateness mixed with dominance. You never had felt like you were in such good hands.

„Am I missing something?“ You held out your iPad to him and he took it to read over your new study notes, comfortably leaning back on his couch. „Maybe a mind map of the process and the cycles, so you get what is connected and what is recurring.“ He mumbled and handed back the tablet in true professor demeanor. „Thanks.“ You smile sweetly before concentrating back on your studying. It was important to him that your studying and college experience stayed as normal and focused as possible and you totally respected that. His little comments were noted like an email between student and professor, not like a couple that just had a makeout session after one of them got back to the couch. „Causes...Symptoms...Recovery.“ You whispered as you wrote your mind map and had a fond smile directed at you that you weren‘t aware of. „Pancakes with self-made apple sauce.“ You presented to him proudly a week later. He was grading assignments the entire day and didn‘t leave his desk, so you decided to start making dinner for the two of you. His kitchen was decently filled with fresh food and you had the urge for something sweet. He looked up from his work with a soft smile and a shimmer in his eyes, „You are really something, aren‘t you?“ You grinned, „I might be.“ He tried your food and nodded, „Sweet, just like you.“ A wink was sent your way. With a giggle you trotted off to get yourself your share of the food. The evening was spent with you making a few notes for other courses and him creating a new presentation on his Macbook next to you. It was all feeling so natural and domestic. You came over a few days a week, you both talked a lot, had sex, one of you made food and you both either spent the evening working, watching Netflix or being all over each other.

„Open it.“ He held a little box towards you after you both came home from college. „Bucky.“ You looked up apprehensive. He said he was willing to buy you some really expensive things for „letting him take care of you“ and you had also talked about this whole thing not only being a sexual but also a romantic relationship...but it still felt weird getting gifts, knowing now, that is in part paid by sexual favors. This was a weird limbo of sugar daddy and older boyfriend. „Just do it, please.“ He smiled so boyishly and sweet you couldn‘t say No. You carefully removed the wrapping paper bit by bit with patient eyes on you. After the last bit of tape was off you removed the paper and revealed a sleep black and white packaging with a „Google“ logo and a phone on it and looked up with wide eyes. „Bucky! You can‘t just…“ You were unable to find words. „Sweetheart, your current phone is almost 5 years old. And this one has a good camera, so you can make that study Instagram stuff.“ He sounded so out of time saying it but so nerdy too. Of course he would check all the specs on your old phone and this new one. „I, um, wow.“ You took the packaging and turned it onto every possible direction. „Open it.“ He said a little giddy himself now and you chuckled. With your fingernail you got off the sealing sticker and carefully lifted the top part off to reveal a lot of tiny manuals, a gorgeous phone and a few cables. „Woah.“ Your eyes went wide. Your old phone still had a home button and a kinda bulky design compared to this...Google Pixel. „I think it‘s already charged. Put it on.“ He smiled next to you on the couch. „Okay, okay. Calm down, nerd.“ You giggled and got a little pinch into your side for it while pressing the On-Button. The rest of the day was spent with the new phone, taking all the pictures in the world, searching for a nice case and „Thanking“ him thoroughly. The next morning was spent stealing his decorations and taking flatlay pictures for your new Instagram on his coffee table. Including a post-shower interruption of him, ending in shirtless pictures of him on your phone. „Great, I have a new background.“ You grinned. „If one of the other students see that, you‘re toast.“ He said more joking than serious. „I‘ll just crop the head and hold it up whenever you walk in front of me.“ You winked and had him grab you with a laugh. „Sugar, you‘re the best.“ He murmured before landing a kiss and letting you get back to work.

„So, um, I need to get this out of the way.“ You mumbled sitting in front of him on the bed. „Yeah?“ He sat up and grabbed your hands. „I don‘t really...feel good with all the gifts. It makes all the fun we have so...materialistic. I feel like I‘m using you and might be used myself. And I know you don‘t and I don‘t do that either, but it just feels a little bit that way. So, uh, maybe don‘t gift me things for a while. I don‘t want sex to be a currency between us.“ You finally got it out in the way you had been wanting to for days and weeks now. He already knew you usually didn‘t like gifts that much, but you never fully explained why. The only talk you had was that this was not a relationship based on sexual favors and that you actually had feelings for each other. This just needed to get out of the way. „I can hold that promise until the end of the semester.“ He smiled cheekily. „Well, that‘s when your true intentions come out if you have any.“ you joked. You didn‘t expect him to turn on you or change much after you weren‘t his student anymore. But it would definitely not feel off anymore to be together and get gifts. It would be the time you‘d go from dating into an official relationship if everything went smoothly. „True intentions, huh?“ He smirked and eyed you intently, „You mean supporting my girl to become the business and psychology boss that I can already see her as?“ „Maybe I‘ll turn into your sugar mommy.“ You shrugged and you both spent the evening laughing and dreaming together a perfect life.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky fanfic #mine #text

45 notes · View notes

phobiadeficient · 4 years

Note

Damn i luv ur writing omgggg Sniper didn't know he liked ass that much... Until he saw Scout's ass. Sniper let's Scout know about it, teases him. Scout is embarrassed, but he likes it (but, of course, he'll never admit it) . Maybe with sum humping, groping and rimming? -🐑

sniper tf2 is an ass man and you can fuckin quote me on that. (no warnings)

Okay, to be fair, Scout knew that the pants were probably too tight.

One unfortunate side-effect of seven older brothers was literally all your clothes being hand-me-downs unless it was something that absolutely needed to fit correctly. And him being generally less broad and tall than his brothers (bunch of meatheads, all of them) meant just having to squeeze into clothes they’d all worn when they were a lot younger, and so they fit him in some ways and not in others.

Since he’d gotten his mercenary job he’d gone to the work of getting some new clothes that actually fit him. Shirts and pants and shoes and socks and everything. And he looked good in them, too, and would put them on whenever he went off base, either drinking with the guys or alone to pick up chicks or whatever other excuse he could get because he had to be in uniform so much of the rest of the time.

But the thing was, he’d been stupid busy with all sorts of dumb shit and kept forgetting to wash his normal-people clothes, so he was left with the last of his clothes, and he really wanted to wear this one shirt and only this one pair of pants wouldn’t look straight up stupid with it and so he had to wear them even though they were kinda small on him.

And as he’d been walking over to meet with Sniper to go out on what wasn’t technically a date and was technically just two coworkers getting a couple of drinks on the weekend, he’d realized that, okay, no, they were really small on him. And he was kind of tempted to go and change, but he was a little late anyways to the time he said he was going to be there and he didn’t want to be even more late from having to change into something else.

And Sniper wasn’t even ready yet when he got there, he was in a pair of pants and socks and toweling off from a shower and promised to be ready in a few minutes’ time. And Scout shrugged and leaned on the little counter and flipped through the magazine Sniper had there—some hunting magazine, but there were some cool guns in there at least—and he was startled out of his zoning out by a wolf-whistle from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Sniper grinning a little, eyes darting from his face down towards his legs and back up again as he sat on the bed, steadily lacing up his boots. He rolled his eyes, even as he started to flush. “Shut the fuck up,” he deadpanned, shifting a little bit and looking away.

“How’d you even squeeze into those?” Sniper asked, chuckling.

“Look, they—they used to fit better,” he said defensively, which was true. When he’d first joined the team, they were only a little bit small on him. But since then he’d gained weight both in muscle mass and in body fat, even if it was only slightly, and apparently it all went to his thighs and ass.

“Didn’t say it looked bad,” Sniper said, and there was still a grin in his voice, and Scout heard the mattress squeak as he got to his feet. “Just not entirely sure I want to even bring you out in pants this tight. Firstly, some other bloke might get ideas.”

“Gonna start a brawl over some tight pants, Snipes?” Scout teased, flicking the page on the magazine.

He squeaked as he felt a pair of hands on his ass, freezing up a little in his surprise. “Maybe,” Sniper said, voice a rumble that sent shivers up Scout’s back. “But they’re also damn tempting, is all. Not sure I‘ll be able to keep my hands off you the whole night.”

Scout swallowed back a noise as Sniper slid his hands into his back pockets.

Alright, so maybe it was kind of sort of a date. Maybe it was a “Scout felt kind of weird to be so consistently fucking the guy when they didn’t even really do couple stuff or hang out in more than like two places” thing. Maybe it was a “Scout needing to justify why he liked this guy so much even though he barely knew him” thing. Maybe it was a “getting pounded into the mattress like twice a week without even knowing what kind of movies the dude likes felt weird” thing. But also it was feeling significantly less important just then, with Sniper nosing beneath his jaw and kissing at his neck idly.

“Aww, c’mon, I showered for this and everything,” Scout complained, just so he wouldn’t look like a total lovestruck idiot.

“You always shower before you come over here,” Sniper replied a little dryly, and Scout flushed, because he’d been pretty sure Sniper hadn’t noticed. “If you really want to go out, you’re going to need to change, Roo. I’m serious.”

Scout subtly leaned back into the weight of Sniper’s hands, flushing a little bit. “Jeez, you’re really that into it?” he tried, hoping he didn’t sound as flustered as he was.

Sniper nodded in agreement before he ducked back in again. “Always hear about people going on about how good people look, the, er, ‘hate to see her go love to watch her leave’ thing, but it never really clicked for me until I saw this,” Sniper said, squeezing once meaningfully and making Scout’s breath catch and muscles jolt. “But I get it now, really I do. Gorgeous, feels like I ought to have to pay to ogle you all the buggering time.”

Scout bit the inside of his cheek to try to get ahold of himself. “Well, uh, well maybe I’ll start makin’ you,” he teased, glad he was turned away and Sniper couldn’t see his face, because he was sure he probably looked like a flushed mess and it was embarrassing.

Because he’d dated plenty of people, mostly girls, and sometimes they’d teased him that he had a nice ass and all that, gotten the stray pinch and smack every now and then, right? But he’d never been outright groped like this, never had someone feel him up like this, nevermind so reverently, nevermind nipping up the column of his neck and slipping hands around his hips and pulling him back and tilting him just so and grinding into him with such a smooth roll of hips, and, fuck.

His breath wouldn’t stop catching, and he felt sweat beading against his brow, on the back of his neck, down his back. He swallowed hard as Sniper repeated the motion, twice as slow as before. “Fuck,” he managed, and swallowed hard again. “Uh. We, uh. We...”

Sniper went still, only kissing idly at the back of his neck, letting him catch up to what he wanted to say.

“We can, take a raincheck on the drinks,” Scout managed, still a little stuttery.

“Next weekend, maybe?” Sniper tried, sounding significantly more in control than Scout was.

“Yeah,” Scout said, and then he was being turned around, and then Sniper was kissing him.

Hands on his ass again, gripping even more firmly, squeezing, grinding their hips together even as Sniper made his head spin with his mouth. Scout tried to pull away to gasp, and was drawn back in a moment later, Sniper back with twice the enthusiasm and ferocity.

“Bloody unfair,” Sniper half-growled, and Scout could only get his brain together enough to make a vague sound of question. “How damn good you look in these.”

“Well, uh,” Scout started, and didn’t bother finishing the sentence when Sniper started kissing him again.

His knees started going weak enough that Sniper caught on and turned them enough to push Scout into bed, following behind shortly after once he’d stripped off his belt and pants.

Sniper proved to be a real asshole in that he kept distracting Scout from getting his own clothes off, nipping at his ear and stroking hands down his sides and playing with every inch of bare skin that Scout managed to get between fumbling hands.

Finally he complained, and Sniper eased off, and that only made him fumble more, Sniper’s eyes burning into him as he pulled free of his shirt, fought free of his pants and briefs. And he tried to hide how flustered he was by turning over, and Sniper caught on quick, making room and guiding him up onto his elbows and knees.

But the bastard didn’t set into lubing him up like he usually did. Apparently Scout had unintentionally put him in a mood. Instead, he went right back to feeling Scout up, squeezing and groping at his ass in firm, pleased sorts of motions, and Scout buried his face into his forearm as his face flushed, trying to hold back any embarrassing noises. He failed a second or two later when Sniper pinched him, and grabbed the pillow from not far away, whipping it back to smack Sniper in the side. He just laughed, tossing the pillow back up to the head of the bed.

“Said you showered?” Sniper prompted as he leaned to get the lube from the drawer. Scout hummed in agreement. “Good, good.”

Scout was a little tempted to ask exactly why that was so good, but then Sniper was back and pressing a finger in and he forgot the question, simply exhaling, doing his best to quickly relax.

Sniper was only at it for a few moments, though, before he pulled his hand back entirely, and Scout groaned in a mix of pleasure and embarrassment as he felt Sniper’s hands gripping at him again, spreading him apart. “Hurry up,” he practically whined, and Sniper made a sound of agreement, then—

Scout’s breath caught on a gasp, the sound something like a hiccup, as Sniper kissed just below his tailbone, then lower, then—

He moaned outright, higher than he’d expected it to sound, and that earned him a second lick, then a cautious probe of his tongue, and Scout felt like his muscles were already turning to jelly, shivery and electrified and weak.

It wasn’t often that Sniper indulged him in this. Partially because Scout always insisted that Sniper brush his teeth after, or else Scout wouldn’t kiss him. But every time he did, Scout turned into a complete mess.

Scout felt the bottle of lube roll on the mattress to hit his leg, and he processed in the back of his mind that it wasn’t the usual one, it was the flavored lube that Scout had half gotten as a joke. He hadn’t expected it to get used, to be honest, but here he was, getting proven wrong. And also getting turned into a pile of mush.

He couldn’t even keep track of the noises he was making, head swimming with pleasure. He was tempted to reach down and start tugging himself off, just to try and get an ounce of control over the situation, but he knew Sniper would stop him if he tried. He had in the past.

So instead he just gripped at the sheets and tried to remember to breathe and held on for dear life as Sniper’s mouth and tongue threatened to unravel him entirely.

When Sniper finally pulled back, Scout was slumped forward and was breathing like he’d run a marathon or twelve, and he didn’t waste a second before he set into begging, incoherent even to him but tone unmistakable. Sniper didn’t bother teasing him, just shucking his own pants down enough to free himself and slicking up, pushing in and making Scout’s begging cut off into a choked-off little gasp.

“There’s a love,” Sniper soothed, a hand drawing down over Scout’s back to settle him further, and once it was clear Scout was ready to start, that hand and his other one gripped high on Scout’s hips and he started on a merciless rhythm that had Scout’s voice cracking within moments.

Made all too aware of it all of a sudden, Scout couldn’t help but tune in to the feeling of Sniper’s hips snapping against his ass, blood pumping all the hotter at the way he felt it bounce. And Sniper apparently noticed too, because he went to pinch and grope at Scout some more, and it was almost embarrassing how hard it was to last under the assault of pleasure. He had to focus hard on clenching his fists in the sheets and not touching himself, sure he’d shoot in a minute flat if he did.

No, he held out, at least until Sniper started to break a bit, making real noises and faltering in his rhythm. Then he wrapped a hand around himself, and could’ve cried from how good it felt, and they finished damn near the same time, groaning and shuddering and pressing together tightly. Scout whined at the feeling of Sniper sealing teeth over his shoulder once he was through the brunt of his orgasm, the pain and the pleasure of it mixing into an intoxicating kind of cocktail.

Sniper pinched him again, and Scout couldn’t deny how much he liked it anymore. Not to himself, at least. But he still hit Sniper with a pillow again.

#//sniperscout #//teasing

31 notes · View notes

jizemderler · 5 years

Text

Priorities {Shawn Mendes}

A/N: Aight, here goes my first Shawn imagine. Hope y‘all like it! Dad!Shawn. Fluff. A lil angst. Happy ending.

Summary: In which Shawn is really forgetfull because he is under pressure which you normally understand but when it‘s about your five year old son, you draw a hard line.

„G‘Morning.“ you smiled feeling his lips brush over your cheek and turned around to snuggle into his chest. „Good Morning beautiful.“ he said, his voice raspy from the lack of sleep and you furrowed your brows. „When did you get in bed?“

„Around five.“

You propped yourself up on your elbow and grabbed the clock from behind him and raised a brow. „You definetly need some more sleep.“ you said after seeing the red numbers which told you it was only 08:30. „I can‘t. I gotta finish the song by tonight.“ he said and you rolled your eyes. „Yes you can.“ you said pushing him back down by his shoulders and placing a soft kiss on his lips. „If you get sick and die on me they won‘t have anyone to finish the damn lyrics.“ you said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes, his lips forming into a grin.

„I‘m gonna prepare breakfast and you‘re gonna sleep.“ you demanded and he just went quite which you interpreted as a surrender.

***

Half an hour later you were preparing breakfast with Jacob. He was standing on his little stool while arranging the plates and you were cutting up some vegetables when Shawn came into the kitchen. „Good morning Big J.“ you heared him say while tickling him and the happy laugh of your five year old filled the kitchen. „Morning Pa.“ he laughed and fought against the big hands of Shawn, trying to get rid of him. Shawn wasn‘t Jacobs biological father. Anyone from the outside would never suspect anything because he looked after him as if he was. Jacob was from your previous relationship who just dumped you like a hot potato when he heared about the pregnancy. Things got ugly real bad.

„What are you thinking about?“ His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked up into his searching eyes and smiled. „About you not being in bed sleeping.“ He just laughed at that and you hit his shoulder playfully with the cloth you had in your hands.

***

On Monday you were working your late shift and Shawn was working from home. It was your turn to pick up Jacob from his grand parents and so you did. „Mom what‘s for dinner?“ you heared your little boy ask from the backseat and smiled to yourself. „I don‘t now bear. Whatever Daddy decided to cook. It‘s a surprize for the both of us.“ you said turning it into a game and he was excited straight away. When you came home though the house was silent. The kitchen was silent.

„Honey! We‘re home.“ you called through the house and waited for an answer but there was none. „Jacob why don‘t you go change while I go get Daddy, huh?“ you asked him and he nodded immediatly and went straight to his room. You on the other hand went to Shawns office just to find him and his manager having a meeting. „Hello Andrew. How are you doing?“ you asked politely and smiled.

„Oh hey, Y/N. I‘m good how are you? How‘s the little one?“

„Good, good. He‘s great. Uh..can I borrow Shawn for a sec? I‘ll bring him back in one piece I swear.“ you joked and he chuckled while raising his hands in defeat. „He‘s all yours.“ You smiled a little smile while stepping out of the office into the corridore. „Hey.“ Shawn greeted you and placed a kiss on your temple. „Uh..I just wanted to ask you something.“ you said while shoving your hands into your pockets. You didn‘t want him to feel bad but it still kind of annoyed you. „Did you make dinner?“ you asked him and his eyes widened while he remembered his promise. „I‘m so sorry. I totally forgot..“ he apologized immediatly but you brushed it off. „It‘s fine. You were busy. Can you ask if Andrew wants Pizza?“ you said while walking away and he was frozen because he knew he fucked up. It wasn‘t a big deal he knew that too because you were understanding of his pressure that came with his job. But he also did not miss the tiny bit of disappointment in your eyes.

You were not expecting him to do major things or things that required a routine because to be honest his life was a mess. But you did expect him to do stuff that he promised he would do. You were relying on him. „So what did Pa make?“ The voice of Jacob pulled you out of your thoughts and you smiled down at your boy. „Surprize! He ordered Pizza. You‘re favourite.“ you said to him and he jumped up and down and threw his fist into the air. Shawn was standing in the doorframe and Jacob went up to him and hugged his legs. „Thanks! I love you.“ he said with a grin plastered across his face and couldn‘t hold back a smile. Shawn mouthed ‚Thank you‘ to you before bending down and picking him up. „Love you too buddy. Let‘s help Mommy set the table alright?“

***

A few days later you were standing in the kitchen writing down geoceries that needed to be bought when Shawn came in too and looked over your shoulder. „I can get those if you want.“ he offered while taking a mug out of the cabinet and you raised a brow. „You sure?“

„Yeah I don‘t mind.“ he said and poured you two some coffee. „I really need these though for the dinner I‘m hosting. I can get them myself if you‘re too busy.“ you offer and he shakes his head. „No I‘ll do it. You‘re doing enough. I got a meeting in an hour, then a shoot, then some test shoots and after that I‘ll go get these before I come home.“ he said and you were trying very hard not to take back your list. „Sure. Thank you.“ You went over to him and placed a kiss on his cheek while he wrapped one arm around your waist. You leaned your head against his shoulder and breathed in his scent while you both sipped your coffee before the day started.

Later that day you were sitting on the couch in the living room. Jacob was already asleep and you were enjoying a glass of wine while watching some TV when you heared the front door open. The footsteps that were coming closer sounded heavy and exhausted. As soon as you saw him you knew he had a rough day. He walked over to you and threw himself onto the couch and burried his face into your lap. When he covered his face with his hands you knew something was wrong. „Hey. Hey.“ you said woth furrowed brows and tried to pull away his hands to look him in his eyes. „What happened?“ you asked while brushing your hands softly up and down his back. „I‘m so exhausted.“ He finally said and you leaned down to kiss the top of his head. „Look at me.“ you demanded and it took him a few seconds before looking up into your eyes. His eyes were red and really small from exhaustion and you softly covered them with your hands knowing that you were the only one able to calm him down at these moments. „You‘re gonna be fine, okay? Just breathe. Planing and creating new stuff is always stressfull. Just think about what fun you‘ll have once your work is out. World tour. Meet‘n greets. It‘ll all pay off.“ you talked soothingly to him and his breath calmed down a bit and you lifted your hand a tiny bit and saw him smiling a bit. „How do you do that?“ he asked while reaching out for your face and you grinned. „I know my man.“ you joked. You didn‘t have the heart to ask him if he got what you desperatly needed for tomorrow. Because you were not seeing any bags and confronting him would make him feel even worse. You just had to rearrange the dinner.

***

Weeks went by and his forgetfullness got worse day by day. He was always working and even in his sleep he‘d be talking about songs and deadlines and what not. You were nervous about this but you had to call him. „Hi baby.“ he answered your call and you kept your eyes on the street while thinking about what you would say. „Hi honey. Uh..you got a minute?“ you asked him and waited for his answer.

„Are you driving?“ he asked without answering and you nodded not realizing he wasn‘t seeing you. „Hello?“ „Uh, yeah sorry. Look Shawn I got a call from a client and I have to drive like two hours to their hometown and I won‘t make it back until like twelve. I wanted to ask you if you could pick up Jacob from the Zoo. They went on a school trip. I would‘ve made it if this wasn‘t so important. “

„Of course. Just tell me when and where and I‘ll arrange my timeline.“ he said and you were chewing on your bottom lip. „Shawn.“

„Yeah. I can hear you.“

„You know how Jacob is when we come to late to pick him up. Please be on time.“ you said trying to warn him not to forget about it.

„I will. Don‘t worry about it.“ he assured you.

„Promise?“

„Promise.“

***

You were exhausted when you came back home. Your client was on a sucide mission and it took you several hours to calm him down and get him back into his normal state. You’re phone died on the way there so you weren’t even able to call Shawn on your way back home. So when you were back home you were just happy that you could relax with your boys. It was friday so Jacob was probably asleep ontop of Shawn in the livingroom because they fell asleep watching a movie. The picture in your mind that was literally engraved in your brain made you smile. But when you reached the livingroom nobody was there. „Hmm.“ you huffed and furrowed your brows. Maybe Shawn brought him into his bed. It was really late afterall. You walked upstairs with your eyelids feeling heavy and your limbs almost numb from exhaustion. But as soon as you opened the door to Jacobs bedroom you were as awake as one could be. „Jacob?“ you called his name when you found his bed empty and rushed to the bathroom. „Jacob are you in there?“ you said after knocking and went in when no one answered. „Jacob!“ you called louder now and went into every room but he was nowhere to be found. „Baby where are you?“ you asked again your voice now near to breaking. Could Shawn..No he couldn‘t have, right? But he was not here. Jacob was not in the house. The office door flew open and a very startled Shawn stumbled out of it. His hair was messy, his eyes red and puffy. „I fell asleep.“ he said with wide eyes and rage mixed with pain and worry filled your chest. „Shawn where is Jacob?“ you growled. „I fell asleep.“ he repeated and you lost your mind. „Shawn where is my fucking son?!“ you barked and he had never seen you this furious.

***

Jacob was at his grandparents. The teachers tried calling Shawn but he fell asleep in his office and his phone was in the kitchen. You‘re phone had already died on your way to the client. So the teachers nor your parents were able to reach out to you. You had lost your mind over the last hour and the thought of loosing your son made you furious. You figured out that he was safe and good when you finally looked at your phones. Now you were sitting in your old room upstairs crying silently while waiting the shock to wear off. You heared a knock at the door but did not look up.

„Hey.“ It was Shawn.

„Shawn leave me alone or I‘ll swear to god I‘ll break your heart.“ you growled and the anger rose up again. „I‘m so sorry. I know what I did was not acceptable and I don‘t know what happened to me but I need you to forgive me.“ he begged you but you couldn‘t even look at him. „You need to sort out your priorities Shawn. If my son comes after all your work then we can‘t be in your life.“ you said trying not to yell at him. „He is my son too. He is my first priority.“ he said desperatly trying to reach out to you. „He is not. You can say he is but your actions show he is not. You wouldn‘t forget about him if he was. I would never. I‘d fucking die before I forget about him.“

„Please don‘t say that, Y/N. I love you both more than you can imagine. I just need to sort things out. I need to take time off to take care of you guys and myself.“

„We‘re gonna stay here tonight. I want you to leave us alone for some time. I need to think whats best for Jacob.“ you said ignoring what he was trying to communicate.

„I‘m begging you please don‘t do this to us. I‘m sorry.“

„How am I doing this to us Shawn?“ you yelled finally exploding, „You did this. You put us second. You overworked yourself to a point where your loved ones slipped through your fingers. Get your shit together. The well being of my son is way more important to me than any feelings you or I could have for each other. And that is my priority. Now get out.“ you yelled and he flinched at your words, stepping back because you wouldn‘t let him talk.

***

It was 4 a.m. when your phone woke you up from your restless sleep. „Hello?“ you said half asleep and were confused when you heared andrews voice. „Hey, Y/N. I‘m sorry for waking you. I don‘t want you to worry, it‘s nothing major but..I need you to come to the hospital.“

Oh no. Shawn. So many bad things flooded your mind, knowing his mental state and you felt your heart wrench. „Andrew..“ you said with a shaky voice. „Nothing happened. Calm down. He just had a big panick attack and we couldn‘t calm him down. I know you were the only one who could calm him down and he must‘ve fucked up big time if you left him like this but he really needs you.“ he explained and you were already on your feet.

„He did. I‘ll be there in ten.“

***

When you walked into his hospital room you surpressed a gasp. His eyes were closed and he was breathing calmly and his hand was connected to a bag full of liquid. They had given him some sedative to calm him down, so his body and his mind could rest. You only now realized that he lost some weight and his face was really pale, he also had dark circles around his eyes. You went over to him and sat down to hold his hand. You kissed his knuckles gently and closed your eyes. „I‘m sorry I wasn‘t there for you when you needed me the most.“ you whispered and layed your cheek on top of his hand.

***

The sun was shining through the curtains when you woke up. Your neck was hurting and you had to strecht your limbs to get the soreness out of your body. You looked up at Shawn whose eyes were still closed and brushed your fingers through his hair and his eyes fluttered open. „Y/N?“ he slurred and you sent him a tiny smile. „I‘m here.“ you said and cupped his face with your hand. „I‘m sorry.“ he apologized clearly near tears and you shushed him. „I know. I‘m sorry too. I should‘ve seen it sooner. I should‘ve been there for you.“ you apologized too and leaned down to kiss his forehead. „You‘re not leaving me?“ he asked causiously and you shook your head. „But we need to sort some things out. First you need to get well though. That‘s the important thing right now.“

He opened his mouth to say something but in that moment the door opened and a little boy ran across the room and jumped up the bed hugging Shawn close to his body. „Dad! Are you okay?“ he said into Shawns neck and you chuckled at his heartwarming concern. „I‘m dashing.“ he answered the littleone and hugged him tight to his body. „Are you?“

„I‘m dashing too, if you are.“ he answered and made you all laugh.

„You two are my priorities. I promise.“ he said over Jacob to you and you smiled, knowing that he really meant it. Even though you had some problems you knew it was true.

„And you two are mine.“

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes x you #dad!shawn #mental health #priorities #love #oneshot #imagine #shawn #mendes #shawn with kids #shawn mendes with kids

401 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 5 years

Note

An idea (if you’ve not already written this) Loki and Elliot both have the flu (or severe cold) and Loki just knows he’s gonna die from this Midgardian bug. Reader is trying to take care of both before she gets sick too.

i can’t—this whole concept cracks me the feck up, thANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I never realised that the ever-nearing release of death would taste so sweet.” His voice is muffled under a pillow as he struggles to pull yet another blanket up to his chin. “I expected a bitterness, a dying, stale bitterness, but not this…”

“Ah yes, this ‘elixir of approaching death’ is bubblegum flavoured.” You sigh and open a new box of tissues, sticking them in the corner of the bed near his head as you take back the little cup of cough medicine. “All we had was the kids version, I quadrupled the dosage for you. You actually think this stuff tastes good?”

“Taste is an abstract concept,” he moans, a hand emerging from the pile of blankets to grab a tissue before retreating back into hiding with a hugely exaggerated sniff.

This is getting ridiculous…although it is a tiny bit refreshing to see your god of a husband taken out by something as trivial and as human as a common cold. The poor guy had woken up with a scratchy throat and had nearly blown a hole through the roof—“there’s something in my throat!! My throat, my throat, there’s something in my throat that I didn’t put there—DARLING, IT HURTS—”

Sore throats are apparently unheard of on Asgard. As are stomachaches, cramps, fevers, stuffy noses, and the overall idea of snot.

“I should have appreciated taste while I still possessed the ability to do so. I don’t believe I’ll ever know senses again—not that it will matter.” There’s a wet honk as he blows his nose. “Becau’de I’ll be dead.”

“…you’re not dying.”

“Life…death…such a fickle thing,” he practically sobs, clamping the pillow down over his face. “I never thought it would end so soon. I-I had so much more I wanted to achieve, I had thousands of years left to live!”

“Again, not dying.”

“Shhh. At least I will die by your side, my love.” He peeks out from under the pillow and reaches weakly for your hand, his eyes red and puffy. It’s hard to take him seriously right now, being so over dramatic and with two wads of tissue stuffed up his nose, but you give him a sweet smile and take his hand.

Ew, he’s all cold and clammy.

“You’ve given me everything, my love,” he sniffs and holds your hand tightly, trying for a weak smile. “Our time together has changed who I am, and…and I owe you everything.”

“Mhm. Are you seeing a bright light yet?” You brush a few sweaty strands of hair from his forehead and he melts into your touch, closing his eyes.

“Yes…yes, I see it! Should I chase after it?” His eyes fly open and he becomes fixed on the ceiling fan, eyes going in circles as he follows the blades around and around and around—

“Stop watching the fan, you’ll make yourself throw up,” you sigh, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead. “Bleh. Okay, I’m going to go check on Elliot. Oh, and that’s just the bedroom light, not death’s door.”

“Don’t leave me,” he pleads and reaches a hand out to you. “I always knew I would die alone, but-but I want your heavenly smile to be the last thing I see before I go.”

You roll your eyes and turn back around, dropping your head against the doorframe with another exasperated sigh. “Loki, for the last time, you’re not dying. You’re both going to be fine, it’s just gonna hurt for a couple days.”

“Denial, you’re already in denial, darling,” he wails, flopping back onto the pillows and spreading his arms wide in defeat. “My time has come and all I can wish for are your lips, just once more, I beg of you…”

“You are such an idiot.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes pleading and pained. “Hush, please, just kiss me once more and send me off with the taste of you lingering on my fading lips…”

Shaking your head with a small smile, you walk back over to his bedside and he flops back onto the pillows, reaching for you with weak arms. “Please don’t make me kiss you.”

“You wouldn’t revoke the wish of a dying man, would you?”

There’s still tissue shoved up his nose.

You take the empty little cup of medicine and the box of tissues, holding it out to him. “Blow your nose like a proper human and maybe I‘ll reconsider.”

You’ve never seen such a sad, utterly defeated look in the eyes of a man before. Loki gives a violent cough and throws an arm over his eyes, staggering his breathing with a groan. “Tend to my son with care. Send him my eternal love, you immortal mortal.”

Somehow you had managed to evade this wave of flu season and Loki just can not comprehend how he has been so beaten by this “measly virus” while you, a proud every-morning orange juice drinker, had by some divine power been able to survive. Elliot got hit hard, and you think he’s the one who brought the sickness home, considering he spends most of his days in a classroom with a bunch of sticky, slimy, sometimes even drooling little kids.

Thank goodness your child is practically perfect in every way.

“MOMMYYYYY!�� Elliot’s screaming for you from the bathroom down the hall. “I THREW’D UP!”

Practically…perfect…

“Don’t go into the light, babe,” you sigh and give Loki another kiss on the forehead, immediately gagging when you pull away and wiping off your mouth. “Ew, why did I do that again?”

“Ew?!” Loki repeats as you walk out the door, leaving him wailing under his pile of blankets. “You kiss me and say ‘ew’? I’m dying, and all you can say is ‘ew’—”

“Oh my god, I’ll kiss you later.”

Elliot is laying on the floor of the bathroom, having brought his pillow and blanket in to continue his nap by the toilet. “My everything hurts,” he whimpers when you kneel down beside him, running your hand through his hair.

“Don’t you want to get back in bed, sweetie?” The tile floor can’t possibly be comfortable, but he shakes his head and rolls onto his side.

“Too hot.” His fever has finally broken, so that’s not surprising.

“M’kay…why don’t you come lay in bed with dad?” You rub a comforting hand over his back. “Your own personal ice cube, that’ll make you feel better. And I think he could use the company.”

Elliot sniffs and slowly nods, sitting up and rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. After having him rinse out his mouth and drink some water, you pick him up and carry him back to your bedroom where Loki is surprisingly sitting up…and staring at the tissue in his hands with a look of pure horror.

“My brain,” he whispers, looking up at you with wide, watering eyes, “is leaking. Through my nose.”

“…no, it’s not.”

“Then what is this?!” He waves the dirty tissue at you as you lay Elliot on the bed, helping him prop his head up with an extra pillow.

“Oh my god, Loki, throw that away! That’s disgusting!”

Elliot curls up into a little ball and scoots over closer to his dad, who’s now fallen into some kind of paralysing shock, staring blankly at the foot of the bed in horror.

“All my knowledge,” he whispers, “everything I’ve ever known, dripping from my nose. This death is cruel, cruel, to keep me alive just to watch myself go mad.”

“Wait, we’re gonna die?” Elliot pipes up from under Loki’s arm—Loki hasn’t even seemed to notice until now that his son is there, as he is far too concerned with his “liquified brain.”

“No, no, no, neither of you are dying.” You fall onto the bed with a groan, rubbing your aching temples. “I swear if you say that one more time, Loki, I’m not even kissing you when you’re better.”

“Death is only natural, Elliot,” Loki murmurs, completely ignoring you, pulling the little boy into his arms and clutching him to his chest. “I always believed we would have more time together, but—”

“You’re nOT DYING, LOKI.”

“…see, your mother can’t quite accept the truth of the matter. Don’t be afraid, Elliot. I’m with you.”

Elliot’s gaping at you, stuck in his father’s hold and absolutely terrified. “I don’t wanna die! Mommy, I don’t wanna die!”

“Loki! Oh my god!” You hiss and clap a hand over Loki’s mouth, pulling your son into a hug. “You’re not going to die, I promise. You’re just a little bit sick! Both of you.” You shoot Loki a pointed glare. “Can you just trust me for a second? You’ll start feeling better in a few minutes when the medicine kicks in.”

“You’ve drugged us.”

“Yes, Loki, I drugged you. Now shut it before I shut you up myself.”

Loki pulls Elliot back against his chest and reaches for the tissues, shoving another wad up one nostril without breaking your gaze, and even in this state of “almost death,” you swear he smirks at your threat. And when he speaks, slowly turning a frosty blue as he runs a hand over Elliot’s sweaty back, his voice is all clogged up and nasally; “I’d cer’nly die a habby man.”

“That was SO attractive.”

He waves a blue hand at his face, heaving a great sigh that‘s just screaming for your sympathy and affection.

“That’s the best I can do. My brain is leaking, and death is inevitable.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi@drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #domestic!loki #dad!loki #sick loki #loki family #loki and son #elliot lokison #elliot lokason #loki drabbles #loki requests #loki funny #fluffy loki #marvel requests #marvel drabbles #marvel loki #marvel fanfiction

694 notes · View notes

marvelxreader · 6 years

Text

Secrets - Part 4

You’re best friends with Ned and MJ. You’re really bad at making friends, but then they introduce you to Peter and there’s just something about him that you can’t explain. Who knows? Maybe you’ll actually get along with this guy.

Disclaimer: slight angst

Word Count: 1,4 k

Y/N = Your Name

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Peter and you have been secretly dating for the past two weeks, but MJ and Ned had their suspicions. He treated you just too sweet and the glances between you gave it away pretty quick.

You were walking down the hallway with your best friends, making your way to history class, when Ned turned to you.

„So, when are you guys going to tell us about your little secret?“, he casually asked.

Your head shot up at him, looking like a deer in headlights. How did they find out? Did they see the suit in his backpack? Did they hear Peter and you talking about it?

„What do you mean?“, you tried to play it cool.

„Oh come on, Y/N. It‘s pretty obvious that Peter and you are more than just friends“

You sighed in relief.

„Well yeah, Peter is pretty bad at hiding“, you chuckled, „We didn‘t tell you because we wanted to take things slow and just see how it works out“

„No need to justify yourself, it‘s all cool. Either way, I‘m happy for you, Y/N“, Ned smiled at you, before turning to MJ.

„So, they are actually dating. You know what that means“, he winked, „You owe me five bucks now“

MJ rolled her eyes in response, but you just laughed.

————————————————

After 60 minutes of trying to stay awake during Mr. Hiddleston‘s history lesson, the school bell finally rang.

„Hey Y/N, you want to come over and join me building my new Lego death star?“, Ned asked you.

„So lame“, MJ said to herself.

„Wait, what? That‘s awesome! How many pieces?“, you beamed with excitement.

„3803“

„That‘s insane“

„I know!“, Ned said with a big grin on his face.

„Alright nerds, see you tomorrow“, MJ joked and waved goodbye to you.

When you arrived at Ned‘s, you immediately got started and while he was reading the building instructions to you, Peter was busy at the Avengers Tower.

————————————————

„So, how is Y/N?“, Tony asked Peter while improving his new suit.

„She‘s great, thanks for asking. It‘s all going really well actually“

„Happy to hear that, Peter. Just make sure your enemies don‘t find out, you can‘t imagine how many times they’ve tried to take Pepper from me. She‘s your weak spot now and they will take advantage of that, you know?“

Tony‘s advice scared Peter a bit. He didn‘t even think about the danger he put you in, just by being with you.

„Thank you, Mr. Stark. I will protect her with my life, I promise“

„Of course you will, that‘s what we do around here“ and with that, his full concentration was on the suit in front of him again.

While Tony was doing his thing, Peter decided to go to the training room with Steve. He was still slightly bitter about the time Peter stole his shield, but overall they got along pretty well.

Peter was in the middle of taking Steve down, when their training session got interrupted by an agitated Natasha.

„New weapons are making their way around the city. They‘re mixed with Chitauri-technology and they‘re highly dangerous. We need to find them as soon as possible. Spidey, if you know anything, let us know. We‘ll handle it from there“

„But, I can help as well! Mr. Stark is working on a new suit for me and - “

„You have no idea how dangerous the person in charge of this might be. And on top of that, you‘re still a kid. There‘s no way I‘ll put you in a situation like this“, Steve interfered.

„Well Captain, you just got your ass whooped by a kid then“, Peter said, getting up from Steve, while Natasha suppressed a chuckle.

Peter didn‘t get it. He was more than just a kid, he was Spiderman and determined to prove himself to the rest of the Avengers.

He left the tower and walked through the streets of New York, examining every person and listening to every conversation in order to find a hint that would lead him to these weapons. He has been roaming around for hours, when he suddenly got goosebumps, signalling him that danger was near.

He looked around and saw a middle aged man coming his way. When he passed Peter, the goosebumps got even worse and he was certain he found what he was looking for, so Peter decided to discreetly follow him.

After thirty minutes they seemed to have reached their destination. The stranger was entering an old warehouse, while Peter watched every move from a distance. He changed into his suit and started circling the building, looking for a backdoor. After a few minutes he found one, but of course it was locked.

„Well, well, well. Who do we have here? The boss will be pleased to test his new stuff out on you“, a raspy voice said.

Five muscular men were standing there, while the biggest of them pointed an anti-gravity gun at him.

Oh shit.

————————————————

Something was knocking on your window in the middle of the night, causing you to wake up. Tessa was growling at the shadow outside, while you got up to check what it was and to your surprise, Peter was hanging on the brick wall of your apartment building. You quickly opened the window to let him in.

He clumsily climbed inside, instantly laying down on your carpet. He was holding his stomach and you could see the blood stains on his suit.

„Oh my god, what happened? I‘ll get the first aid kit, stay there and don‘t move“, you said in shock, running into the bathroom.

When you came back, his mask was already lying on the ground and his suit was loosely hanging around his waist. The sight of him broke your heart. He had a bloody lip and his body was covered in bruises and cuts, some deeper than the other. You knelt down beside him, inspecting the wound on his stomach while pouring some alcohol on a cotton pad.

„I‘m sorry babe, but this will hurt like a bitch“, you said right before you started cleaning the wound.

He squinted his eyes and took in a sharp breath.

„We might have to stitch his“, you said with a hint of concern in your voice.

„No, no stitches. I‘ll be fine in 20 minutes, just wait and see“, he managed to get out, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

And he was right. You could see the wound getting better every minute and after a short period of time, he was as good as new.

„So that‘s what you meant with fast metabolism“, you looked at him, questioning if you were still dreaming.

He just yawned and got up, acting like he didn‘t just have a massive cut in his stomach, and laid down on your bed.

„Come here please, I want to cuddle“, he mumbled into the pillow as he held out his arm for you.

You tiptoed back to bed and he instantly wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

„You wanna talk about what happened back there?“, you asked him with a soft voice, while your fingers played with his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“Bad guys and Chitauri weapons are just not a good match”, he mumbled, before the exhaustion washed over him and he dozed off.

————————————————

~ earlier that night ~

Peter was trapped underneath pieces of concrete that fell from the wall a few seconds prior. Vulture, the man responsible for Peters state, knelt down beside him.

„If you get in my way again, I will kill every single person you care about“, He threatened Peter, who was lying on the ground, before he flew off and out of sight. Peter was slipping in and out of consciousness, when Tony’s words echoed in the back of his mind.

She‘s your weak spot now and they will take advantage of that.

„Y/N“, he whispered to himself, „for the love of god, please be safe“

It took all of his strength to lift up the concrete on top of him, but the thought of Vulture hurting you kept him going. Even though his condition was the worst he has ever been in, he managed to climb out and as soon as he did, he rushed to your apartment in record time.

————————————————

You woke up to the sound of Peter calling your name in his sleep. He was still holding you, his grip getting tighter by the second.

“It’s okay, I’m right beside you”, you whispered to him, cupping his face with one hand, your thumb drawing circles on his cheekbone. His glossy eyes fluttered open at your touch.

“Thank god, you’re here”, he said and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Of course I am, where else should I be?”, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Never mind. I’m sorry for waking you up, baby. Just go back to sleep”

And you did as he said, while Peter stayed up all night, making sure no one could hurt you.

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfic #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman: homecoming #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfic

69 notes · View notes

starlistic · 5 years

Text

Candlenights Kitchen a candelnights giftswap fic for @salty-angel! I hope you enjoy. sorry for the slight delay, and thank you to @kravalicious for organizing this! <3

In the chaos of a very busy kitchen, the faint shouting of a stone went nearly unnoticed. Thankfully, at least one of the occupants wasn’t preoccupied with tossing a pan or perfecting a dish, although that was mostly because he had been banned for burning food so badly it had been stuck to the pan. Twice. In Taako’s favorite pan.

“You arrest people for dead crimes,” Taako had said, prodding Kravitz in the chest with a failing but valiant attempt to conceal his laughter. “I’m arres— exiling you, for burn crimes.”

Kravitz had rolled his eyes at the time, but now he appreciated having an excuse to sit back and watch Taako and Lup move together in a dizzying frenzy as he distractedly flipped through some semi-important reports. The twins moved like their own miniature planar system, spinning through the demanding dance of holiday meal-making with ease. Even the quivering buzz and flashing runes of the stone on the table beside Kravitz took a moment to pull his attention away.

Shaking himself out of it, Kravitz picked up the stone of farspeech — Taako’s, he was pretty sure.

As he did, Lup raised her voice as she excitedly retold one of the Reaper Squad’s many adventures in condemning necromancy. “The guy had the nerve to lie straight to our faces with the evidence sitting right behind him!” Lup shouted over to her brother, loud enough to be heard over the sizzling of vegetables and hot oil in her pan. Unfortunately, she was also loud enough to completely obscure whoever was speaking through the stone.

Kravitz pressed a finger against the stone anyway. “Hello?” he said, not quite as loudly as he could’ve. He didn’t want to distract the cooks.

“Didn’t even need a Zone of Truth to figure that one out!” Taako said cheerfully and also quite loudly from across the room, drowning out the stone’s response with his cackling and the clang of utensils against a pot.

Dropping the stone from his face, Kravitz gave up on trying to hear over the natural ruckus of the kitchen and called out, “I’m stepping away for a moment!”

Lup glanced over to him, cocking her head to the side as he made his way out of the kitchen. “I thought we didn’t have work—?”

“No, yeah — no, it’s not work related. Just taking a call while you’re all clearly too busy to do so,” Kravitz tossed over his shoulder as he turned the corner and strode down the hall, ignoring Taako’s snorted response.

He headed to the living room, listening to the twins’ clattering die down with distance and the stone’s tones come through more clearly without other obfuscating sound. The hall didn’t stretch too long, before opening up into the room, but it was decorated lightly with small shelves of knickknacks and portraits, shiny things that gleamed and images depicting stars and worlds and the bright smiles of a family with a firm, unceasing world beneath their feet at last.

“—y side of things,” the stone of farspeech chimed in casually from his hand. “We’ve picked up Carey and Killian. Ango said he’d get back on his own, though. Said he didn’t want to bring the Starblaster down in front of the school, it’d cause too much trouble.”

The voice was easily recognizable as Magnus Burnsides. Of course. Kravitz tapped the rune as he brought it closer to his face. “Hey, Magnus.”

“Oh, hey, Kravitz! Thought it was you that picked up a moment ago.” There was a small laugh, and then, “So, I take it that the twins are — super busy, with the meal and stuff?”

“Got it in one. I think they’ve got unseen servants helping out or something, it’s been pretty noisy.”

Magnus snorted. “I’d be surprised if they’d let an unseen servant do more than grab stuff, and that’s what the, uh, glowing hand spell is for. Mage Hand, I mean. Anyway, I was saying that we’ve got everyone except Angus, who insisted we didn’t, so we’ll be flying straight for you and we’ll probably be there in, oh, maybe an hour or so. Actually…” His voice grew a little fainter, as though he were shouting off to the side. “Daven— Cap’nport! Hey, Captain! When’re we landing?” After a moment of indistinct burbling in the background, Magnus’ voice returned in full loud and booming force, declaring, “About half an hour!”

That was plenty of time to get dinner ready. “I’ll let them know,” Kravitz said, just as the air began to tear apart in front of him.

Despite its abrupt appearance, the reaper was familiar enough with this particular type of portal that he only stepped away a bit to make space as Barry emerged from the rip in space. Barry sealed it quickly behind him, his scythe dissipating as he did so.

Kravitz nodded at him. He figured there was nothing wrong, since Barry didn’t look distressed, but just to make sure, he asked, “Everything fine?”

“Yeah, we’re good for the n— the rest of the night.” Barry smiled, and then noticed the pulsing rock in Kravitz’s hand. “Who — who’s on the stone with you?”

“Is that Barry?” Magnus said.

“Magnus,” Kravitz said just an instant too late, unnecessarily. He handed the stone over to Barry with a wry smile. “They’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’m going to update Taako and Lup real quick, be right back.”

Barry nodded, watched him leave, and looked back down on the stone. “Magnus, bud?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind Merle to leave our b— Candlenights bush alone this year, will you? Before you get here.”

Magnus snorted. “Yeah, I‘ll make sure he remembers that that’s off limits. Until it comes time to open the presents.”

“Until after Candlenights.”

“Until after Candlenights, at which point he’ll probably take it off your hands to replant it. I’m pretty sure he knows, but since he’s — he’s. Wait,” Magnus said, a strange tone creeping into his words. “Wait just a second. Holy shit. I just remembered. Merle. Merle is Santa.”

Barry attempted to make sense of the last three words out of Magnus’ mouth and failed miserably, in part because he refused to believe it. “He’s what?”

“Merle is Santa. We accidentally killed the last Santa last year, on accident—”

“You killed who?”

“—and the title, the duty and stuff that came with being Santa was technically passed onto Merle—”

“Oh, gods,” Barry said, somewhat awed of how little he knew of this world despite spending years here, and also somewhat horrified. “There’s a Santa here? And — you killed him?”

It struck him that maybe — well, he recalled the strange disappearance of that package he’d meant to give the three boys (but had been unable to, due to the lich ward) and the small note he’d found in its place, a tiny slip of a thing that had read, A humble gift for the only lich to ever be on my nice list! It’s rare to find someone’s Candlenights wish to be for someone else to receive a gift, but that’s easy enough to do! —S.C.

Only the distraction of the Philosopher Stone’s eminent danger had stopped him from stressing out about the apparently delivered gift at the time.

It’s been three years since. Barry hadn’t thought about that in what felt like ages, but the existence of Santa cast it in a slightly more reassuring light.

And a slightly distressing light, actually, because Magnus had apparently killed this person — with, Barry assumed, the help of Taako and Merle, because the three of them had often went on strange adventures together even after the Day of Story and Song.

“Does — is Santa supposed to do anything special?” Magnus asked, sounding faintly strained. “I really hope not. The previous guy seemed pretty chill.”

“I-I really doubt not, since it’s Santa on Candlenights Eve,” Barry said. “Oh, shit. We gotta — is Merle with you?”

“On the ship, yeah. Should I tell him?”

“Yes, absolutely. Go tell him and maybe make — er, come up with ideas for gifts or something. Or we can talk when you get here, I don’t—”

“I’ll remind him,” Magnus promised. “See you soon!”

Barry shook his head, took a moment to marvel at the insanity his family managed to get themselves into, and then tucked the stone in a pocket as he made his way to the kitchen and poked his head in. Immediately, the smell of delicious food swamped him, but he pushed that aside for a moment. It was quieter now, the stovetops quiet as the cooking wrapped up. “Hey, Taako?”

Taako, who was in the middle of plating another dish with Lup on a line of shimmering others that were probably spelled for preservation, looked up. So did Kravitz, who was nearby. “Yeah?”

“Is Merle Santa?”

“Is — oh. He was a year ago.” Taako shrugged over Lup’s baffled expression, and in that moment of distraction, Kravitz reached over and scooped a bit of mashed potato up with his finger, shoving it in his mouth before Taako could stop him. “Yeah, he got the bag and suit and whole thing. We even delivered a present to a kid in an ice keep. Krav— you’re not going to have any room left for the actual meal, you know.”

“You underestimate me,” was Kravitz’s very self-satisfied response as he licked his finger clean, to Taako’s chagrin. And then, “Since when was Merle Santa?”

“I can’t believe you never said anything about this,” Lup interjected, utterly amused.

Taako huffed. “Listen, it was last year and our costumes faded after a while so we never really thought about it afterwards. What about it, Barold?”

“Didn’t you think that maybe being Santa would come with som— certain, certain responsibilities?” Barry said.

“Yeah, but we did it,” he replied, entirely missing the point. “Gave a kid a gift.”

“Candlenights comes every year, Taako—”

“I know that—”

“And I think Santa gives gifts to more than one kid, so — uh, so maybe there’s something that should be maybe done this evening before the actual Candlenights day comes around?”

Taako narrowed his eyes, looked down at the layout of dishes on the counter, and then back up, and then down, and then up at Barry again. “Nobody’s going anywhere until after dinner, because I spent all fucking day on this beautiful feast,” he declared, swatting Kravitz’s hand away when he tried to sneak another bite, “but after, okay, sure, let’s... get presents from somewhere and throw them at children.”

“Ooh,” Lup said, sitting up abruptly with the sparkle of an idea in her eyes. “If Merle’s Santa Claus, then the Starblaster could be the sleigh.”

“Hell yes.” Taako sounded thrilled by this particular spin on the situation. “Let’s book it at full— at top speed around the whole world, raining down presents from above. I can definitely, deffo get behind that.”

Barry was pretty sure Davenport wouldn’t be pleased with using the ship in such a somewhat irreverent way — and then promptly remembered that their captain loved Candlenights. As serious as he was, he did adore the holiday more than most people Barry knew, so. That might actually work.

Grinning, Kravitz leaned over to press a kiss to Taako’s cheek, wrapping his arms loosely around Taako’s waist, snug and gentle. “First you save Faerûn, and now you’re going to save Candlenights? How generous of you, love.”

“I was already saving Candlenights with all this food,” Taako drawled, but Barry easily picked up on the slight smile tugging at his lips, the utter lack of tension in his posture as he eyed the dish in front of him. Patting Kravitz’s arm with one hand, Taako added, “Alright, bones, help us get this set up — not the food, you’re banned, grab the drinks — and we’ll, I don’t know, figure it out the rest when everyone gets here. You too, Barold.”

Kravitz snorted. “And worry about the Santa problem later? It’s only the joy of probably millions of children on the line,” he teased.

“Have you seen the weather outside? Taako’s good in here. Where it’s warm. Merle can handle that when he gets here.”

With a smile, Barry brushed past Lup and gestured at the plate, causing it to lift into the air as he picked up two more, careful not to tilt or spill anything. “Do you want them to be set in a specific order, or—?”

“Nah,” Lup said. “We can rearrange them afterwards. Thanks, babe.” She topped off another dish and held her hand over it for a moment, smiling at the brush of warm air against her palms for a moment. Then, she traced the edge of the plate with a finger and whispered a quiet spell to pause the steam rising off of the dish.

The front door creaked open as Barry carefully transferred the meal to the dining room, a bit of cold air creeping in before it was quickly shut. “I’m home!” called the familiar voice of Angus, the boy quickly peeling off his thick jacket and scurrying deeper in.

He darted down the hall and beamed upon spotting Barry, his arms full of food.

“Welcome back,” Barry said. “They’re in the kitchen.” And then, projecting his voice, “Angus is here!”

“Dope!” Taako called back. “Agnus, how’s it looking out there?”

��Cold, but no snow yet. Everyone else shouldn’t have an issue getting here,” Angus responded, not bothering to correct Taako on his name anymore; he’d long figured that that was Taako’s way of trying to be subtle about his affection. He trotted over to poke his head in the kitchen, quickly spotting Taako, Lup, and Kravitz. “Happy Candlenights Eve, sirs and ma’am!”

Taako, in the midst of balancing four plates on his arms, grinned back. “Happy Candlenights Eve. Snow or not, it’s gonna be a good one.” He paused, and then added wryly, “Worst case we can just ask Merle to Control Weather or something, I guess.”

Laughter broke through the room, warm and comfortable. Worries were set aside for the moment as they anticipated the arrival of the rest of their family, knowing that the Starblaster’s passengers would bring even more joy to them than a sleigh would.

#salty angel #kravalicious #tazgiftexchange2018 #popped back to tumblr real quick for this—#all my tags are gone rip ip #taz balance

10 notes · View notes

jovialyouthmusic · 6 years

Text

Two’s Company, Three’s Allowed, a TRR fanfic Summer of Love 2

@speedyoperarascalparty @brightpinkpeppercorn @sleepwalkingelite@zaffrenotes @ao719 @choicesfanatic86 @darley1101 @flowerpowell@gardeningourmet @kinkykingliam @livingthroughchoices@likethetailofacomet @andy-loves-corgis @silviasutton1989 @blackcatkita @cgd03 @flowerpowell

Erotica. Not suitable for under 18s

Debriefing and the Sisters return

‘Well you certainly took your time.’ said Drake as Brad emerged from the summerhouse with a spring in his step. ‘I hope you took full advantage of your opportunity.’ The sisters had not come out yet.

‘A gentleman never tells.’ smiled Brad. ‘And a Prince never brags.’ Drake frowned.

‘Not fair Brad, I always tell you what I get up to.’

‘And I’m grateful for that, but my lips are sealed.’ Drake sighed.

‘You could nod if I ask you questions.’ he said ‘and they might not be so scrupulous about kiss and tell.’

‘I think you’ll find no specifics will be revealed, but my reputation may receive a boost.’

‘You are so going to spill, man. A couple of beers and you’ll tell me everything.’ Drake grinned.

‘You’re not going to let me off, are you? Anyway, you have a job to do – you have to smuggle them back out – and they want to come back again.’

‘High five, Brad! They almost never ask for a do -over – so to speak.’

‘Well, I’d better get back to the palace. Father will be expecting me for dinner, and Leo, Maxwell and Tariq will be there too. I’m glad I’m not Crown Prince, he’d be throwing a banquet and inviting anyone who’s anyone.’

‘Yeah well, that’s a small mercy. However will you cope just getting a Porsche for your birthday – what a let-down!’

‘We can go out for a drive tomorrow, I promise. Join us for a couple of beers after dinner?’

‘Sure thing, Brad. Happy Birthday, man. Welcome to the club.’ He clapped Brad on the back and walked off toward the summer house.

---------

Later the four friends sat around a fire, swigging beer by the neck. Maxwell was insistent.

‘C’mon Brad, gice us the deets.’

‘I will not, it’s private.’

‘Safe to say he’s not a virgin any more.’ grinned Drake ‘The girls wouldn’t tell, but they’ll be back for more.’ Brad groaned.

‘It was an amazing experience, but I don’t think I could cope with both of them again. My legs are still a bit shaky.’ he said, taking a swig from his bottle.

‘Man, you can’t let them down.’ protested Tariq ‘I only got the one go with the older one, and she was dynamite. She only went with me to get to you.’

‘Nobody ever asks me.’ Maxwell complained. Drake slapped his hand on the younger man’s knee.

‘You’re too young pipsqueak - wait until you’re older, then you’ll be fighting them off with a stick. You’re not even shaving ye.t’ he assured him. Maxwell huffed.

‘Age never seemed to be a problem for you, Drake.’

‘What can I say – some noble ladies like to be defiled by a commoner.’ he grinned ‘and working in the stables helped tons. All that space in the hayloft is perfect for a little privacy.’

‘Well, it’s past my bedtime.’ sighed Maxwell. ‘If I don’t get back soon Bertrand will ground me for a week.’

‘I’ll be off too if Brad isn’t going to tell.’ said Tariq. ‘I need my beauty sleep if I’m going to last the distance at the Club tomorrow.’ he winked at Brad. ‘Now there’s a place to meet willing ladies.’

‘Sadly Bastien wouldn’t be free to make sure I’m safe.’ said Brad dejectedly ‘Leo’s giving him the runaround and I can only get away with so much. Trips out won’t be possible for a while.’

‘Well, I’m off now. Don’t total that Porsche – give us a ride sometime, huh Brad?’ said Maxwell. Brad nodded and promised, and the two young men left Brad and Drake alone by the fire. They sat in companionable silence until Drake spoke.

‘It’s just you and me now, buddy. I won’t breathe a word to a soul if you want to tell me anything.’

‘I know what you’re trying to do.’ said Brad. ‘And I know how stubborn you are, so I’ll share a little.’ Drake shifted and handed Brad another bottle of beer.

‘They were pretty full on.’ started Brad. ‘I knew I wasn’t going to get out until they were both satisfied’ Drake grinned.

‘Why would you want to get out?’

‘Seriously? I didn’t think I’d get out alive, it was terrifying.’ protested Brad ‘Well, maybe I’m exaggerating, but it took me a while to relax and enjoy it.’

‘So how many times…? Drake prompted.

‘I came twice – both girls too’

‘Way to go! Any more details?’

‘Well you can imagine I was first to pop, but only just. I managed to hold off until Lisa came.’

‘That was your cherry gone I take it?’

‘It certainly was. After that Annabelle told me I was – now you promise on your life not to breathe a word, Drake.’

‘Cross my heart.’

‘Okay, she told me I was – girthy, and I might have problems with some girls if I didn’t take it slow. So I had to prove I knew how to treat a girl, using the skills you so kindly described.’

‘Oho, a bit of fingering and oral?’

‘Yup. I got to go properly with Annabelle after that.’ He sighed. ‘Honestly Drake, I was all but done after. It took a lot of stamina, and I’m not sure I could do it again.’

‘Sure you can. Don’t worry, I can stall them for a few days, give you time to get your strength back.’

‘Much appreciated. Have you – enjoyed them at all?’

‘Not all the way, Annabelle gave me a blow job as a bribe to get to you.’ He leaned forward, clinking his bottle with Brad’s. ‘One last detail then I promise not to ask any more.’ Brad took another swig of beer.

‘What is it?’

‘Positions – when you had each of them, what position?’

‘You really want to know?’

‘Wouldn’t ask otherwise.’

‘Okay. Cowboy with Lisa, missionary with Annabelle.’

‘Not bad going for your first time. Let me give you a tip – get them both on you at the same time, you’ll have a blast, and maybe it will save your strength’

‘Both at once? How?’ Drake laughed at his friend’s innocence.

‘You know there’s this thing called porn don’t you?’

‘I live in a palace Drake, I can’t access stuff like that, there’d be a scandal.’

‘I live here too you know, and I see plenty. Not that it’s all practical mind, if you believe what you see you’d never even try for real.’

‘All the same, I can’t risk something like that.’

‘Leo watches.’ Drake pointed out.

‘Leo’s – well, Leo is Leo.’

‘You’re so noble.’ laughed Drake ‘you should be King, not that horndog. Come up to my room sometime and I‘ll show you stuff on my laptop that will make you hard for a week.’

‘Watching porn with you would just be weird.’ replied Brad, draining his beer. ‘I’d better go get some sleep, I’m bushed.’

‘Okay, but one last shot. Get one going cowboy and one on your face.’

‘On my face? That’s a thing?’

‘C’mon man, think oral.’

‘I think I can let my imagination guide me.’ replied Brad ‘But thanks for the advice. Stall them if they get in touch – but I’ll give it another go. Thanks Drake, that was a truly great birthday present. I was beginning to think Father would have to hire me a high class escort or take me on a trip to Paris. I think what you did was just about perfect. I owe you.’

‘I only channelled what was already there. They aren’t the only ones who’d like to get to you.’

‘On balance I think the fewer the better – less chance of scandal or blackmail.’

‘You’re paranoid, Brad.’

‘Sadly I have to be, you of all people should know that.’ he replied with real pain in his eyes. Drake hung his head.

‘I’m sorry. We’ve both lost people dear to us. I forget sometimes. Sleep well, my friend,’

‘You too, Drake.’

------

It was almost a week later that the sisters came to call again. Brad emerged from the summerhouse afterwards looking a little the worse for wear. Drake had to laugh at the sight of his friend, normally so well turned out and well-groomed looking tousled and flushed.

‘I swear Drake, those two will be the death of me.’ he gasped ‘They’re insatiable! I did what you said, tried going for both of them at once, but they went wild.’

‘I could hear you were all having a lot of fun.’

‘Oh god, were we loud?’

‘Uh huh. It’s a good job the Guard are still running around after Leo. Are they keen for a rematch?’

‘Yes. Actually…’ Brad went even redder.

‘Actually what? Spill, man.’

‘They suggested you might like to join us next time.’ Drake gaped at his friend in disbelief.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I don’t know if I’m not measuring up, or if they’re just – kinky.’ Drake blew his breath out, puffing his cheeks.

‘Wow, I wasn’t expecting that. How do you feel about it?’ He asked. Brad looked troubled.

‘I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I could do with the help. On the other, we’ll see each other in action. I don’t know if I could handle that.’ Drake sucked his breath in sharply.

‘Good point. I hope they don’t expect any man on man action – that’s totally out.’

‘Agreed. Let’s think this out.’

‘We could ease into it – take one each and keep ourselves to ourselves, see where it takes us.’

‘That’s a plan. Or I could say no thank you and drop it.’ said Brad, losing a little of his colour.

‘You can’t, this is too good to be true. A foursome? You – we - might never get the chance again.’

‘True. Anyway, we can stall for time, think it over. If you like you could go and see them right now, they might still be up for it.’

‘I think I’ll pass. If they smell of your cologne I might freak.’

-------

Drake lay restless in bed, pondering the sisters’ offer. To be truthful, it really appealed to him, except that he didn’t want things to get weird with Brad. Would it harm their friendship? When his father had died in the line of duty and his mother had left Savanah and him to go back to America, it had been Brad who had stood up for him, made sure he and his sister had a roof over their heads. It was sometimes tough being a commoner living in the Palace, but again Brad always defended him. Not that he cared what any stuffy nobles thought about him, he was confident in his own skin – most of the time. He’d be going off to University soon and who knows where he would go on to after that. Savannah was secure enough at court, and Brad would be fine without him, he was sure. Leo would eventually be King and Brad would marry some foreign Princess or one of the ladies at court.

On balance, he reckoned that if it went weird, well, he wouldn’t be around much longer anyway. He might as well take advantage of Brad’s influence while he could. He wasn’t sure how his love life would hold out once he had left Cordonia, so what the heck. He had little to lose. He rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #king liam #prince liam #drake x liam #fanfiction

12 notes · View notes