#sir there are minors present and I can’t see over the counter

[hongism]

(NOT SO) SILENT NIGHT - J.WY, C.JH 18+

» j.wooyoung x fem!reader x c.jongho » smut, 18+ dni if minor » warnings: language, explicit smut, unprotected sex, voyeurism, praise, hotwifing, choking, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, name calling: whore, bdsm themes, safe word usage, hair pulling, anal fingering, anal sex, oral: f, fingering, piv, restraints, power play, manual stimulation, a dash of pain play, wooyoung makes reader call him sir, smoking, alcohol mention » final installment of the 12 days of christmas collab with @uhmingi​​ and @choijjongho​​​!! » wc 7.8k (sawry again ._.) » summary - jongho has an idea to spice up things in the bedroom, one that benefits you, him, your marriage and coincidentally the man who enjoys homewrecking far too much for his own good.

“hi wooyoung,” you greet, smile a little terse when you open the door for the man. you only saw his face through the peephole so the full visage of his body comes as a full shock. apparently, you didn’t get the message to dress up seeing as he’s decked out in a satin three-piece suit with the dress shirt conveniently missing from underneath the vest, leaving the tanned skin there exposed for your eyes to feast on with little shame.

“good evening, dear.” he grins, eyes going down to the band around your ring finger before flitting back up to your face. it’s a silent exchange: the inquiry in his eyes as he moves his hands out of his pockets, and you return the question of ‘everyone still on board?’ with a nod.

“i just finished making dinner but haven’t had the chance to set the table yet, i’m sorry.”

“no worries, let me help you?”

“of course.” there’s a lingering flurry of nerves in your gut, coupled with excitement about what’s finally going to happen tonight.

it had taken months to even reach the point of finalizing a good time for everyone involved, and what initially started as your husband’s fantasy quickly evolved into something you became desperate for. it could be blamed on wooyoung actually since he upped the ante in terms of sheer flirtation and seduction after you and jongho propositioned him for the job, and his affinity for married women only added to the excitement on his part. what started as a mutual christmas present between you and your husband suddenly added jung wooyoung into the mix where he benefits as well. to be frank, everyone wins in this situation. wooyoung gets to fuck a married woman with no strings attached and full permission, jongho gets to live out his fantasy of seeing you fucked by another man, and you get a delicious taste of the infamous dick wooyoung loves to brag about quite often. that kind of arrogance is usually off-putting to you, but you can’t deny the sheer attraction to his physical assets even if they’re attached to a man with a bit of ego.

in short, the scene is set beautifully and wooyoung plays his part so well that you almost don’t feel like it’s a scene at all.

he doesn’t lay a hand on you yet, even though you’re slightly anticipating it as you lead the way to the kitchen.

“when will jongho be home?” wooyoung inquires along the way, and you run through your mental script in search of the right response. as though sensing that sudden panic of fumbling for words, wooyoung steps a bit closer to your heels and slides his fingers over your palm. you instinctually try to tangle your fingers together but wooyoung evades it well, and he follows it up with a quiet huff of laughter. still, the subtle reassurance in his actions pushes you forward.

“he’ll be out late tonight. we have three hours to ourselves,” you whisper, barely turning your head to look at him. wooyoung hums in response as he takes up the plates you left out on the counter.

“a long time to get up to no good.”

the direct acknowledgment of what’s going to transpire tonight has you flushing from head to toe, and you don’t know if wooyoung can see your embarrassed state or not, but you try not to think too deeply about it. instead, you busy yourself with the food, serving the plates as wooyoung hands them your way with a small smile and subtle glances.

“would you like wine, wooyoung?” you offer, lingering by the fridge while wooyoung takes the plates around the corner to the dinner table.

“water will be just fine for me.”

you see his reasoning, and it’s something he mentioned in the discussion phase of this night: i want to be fully sober, but i don’t mind if you drink a little to take the edge off if that’s what you need. he had spoken with a smirk on his lips, and you find yourself thinking of that expression as you take a glass out for yourself. he was exactly right in assuming you might need it, and it’s either going to take the edge off or slow you from jumping him on the table. one glass won’t be nearly enough to take you out of commission, but it’s moreso the idea of drinking it that helps ease your nerves some.

when you leave the kitchen to join him with glasses in hand, you find that he hasn’t sat down yet, still standing beside the table with hands shoved back into his trouser pockets.

“ladies first, please,” wooyoung says, motioning towards the chair across from him. he honestly has no business acting like such a gentleman when he’s already admitted to wanting to do downright nasty things to you. you don’t point out the behavior, however, simply taking your seat after passing the glass of water his way. wooyoung follows suit just as quickly.

“i’ll be honest, wooyoung,” you start, and for a moment you can’t bring yourself to look up from your plate. “i’m not sure what to talk about given what we plan to do later.” wooyoung picks up on the break in the scene with ease, and he moves the hand that isn’t now clutching a fork across the table. when he extends his palm to you, you reach out to lay your own on top of his, and this time he lets you cling to him.

“are you nervous?”

“i wouldn’t say nervous, i just… feel odd trying to make idle conversation and pretending like i don’t know where this is headed since we already planned it out in such great detail. i guess i’m no good at roleplaying.” you laugh to dispel the tension you’re feeling, but wooyoung smiles back at you to show that he’s not bothered by the admission at all.

“we don’t have to play any parts really. you can just talk about whatever comes to your mind. i know it’s not easy to ignore the elephant in the room, but i can help lead the conversation if that helps.” he squeezes your hand a little bit as he speaks.

“yeah, that would help a lot,” you sigh out, following up your words with a series of quick nods.

“you remember the safeword system we discussed?”

“green for good, yellow to slow down, and red to stop completely,” you recite.

“don’t be shy about using them if you need to, yeah? we stop when you want to stop and only do what you’re comfortable doing. nothing more, nothing less. even if we dip into the power play you mentioned wanting to try, you’re still fully in control of what happens and how far it goes. i want to make sure that’s very clear before we do anything else.”

“i understand. thank you… for reminding me.” you were a tad worried about handing over power like that, even if not in the traditional dominant-submissive archetypes that many enjoy.

even when wooyoung lets go of your hand to focus more on eating, your mind wanders a bit about the logistics of it all and when jongho might sneak in because he didn’t give an exact time for when he would slip in — all he said was that he would come in sometime after the first hour, and while he wouldn’t intrude directly, he would be present to watch from afar, as per his fantasy.

wooyoung talks quite a bit while you eat, and you respond when you think it necessary to, but other than that you stay rather quiet and let him lead the talking. it’s menial conversation, for the most part, things that don’t seem to interest either of you that deeply, but it serves as a distraction that keeps you from falling prey to overthinking. and wooyoung, for all the grief you give him about being a touch on the arrogant side, doesn’t refer to the scene again until you’re standing side by side in the kitchen washing dishes.

“shall i take you to the bedroom after this?” his voice rumbles against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, and when your back arches against his touch, he catches hold of your hip. glancing at the reflection off the window above the sink, you can see him staring right back at you, smirk stretching his lips into a cat-like grin. “or should we not give him much of an opportunity to hide from us?” wooyoung hums along with the question before slipping lower to let his mouth caress the place where your jaw meets your neck. your eyes flutter when he drags the blunt edges of his teeth over that same spot, and a rush of arousal spreads through your gut.

“b-bedroom,” you force out through your teeth, biting back the sound that desperately wants out. wooyoung sneaks a hand around your waist and snatches the plate in your hand to push it to the side, and you watch the movement with bated breath in anticipation for his next move. it’s a sore disappointment when he pulls off your body completely.

“if you want me so badly, then you’re gonna have to come get me yourself.”

you whip around to face the man, an expression of pure incredulity painting your features, only to be met with his back rather than his face as he retreats from the kitchen. he’s fully expecting you to follow, and it’s a small taste of humiliation because you know you’re going to even if you have to stoop so low to do so. this is for you as much as it is for jongho; you have to remind yourself of that little fact over and over before swallowing your pride and shutting the faucet off.

“i’m your present, aren’t i?” wooyoung continues from the edge of the kitchen. “come unwrap me then, y/n~”

he’s only being such a little shit because he knows you aren’t going to step down, although you have to admit you’re wildly tempted to at this moment, but you end up pushing that thought aside to follow him out of the kitchen. he catches hold of your hand as you step out with him, palm warm against yours, and he lets you take the lead into the hallway. maybe he had ulterior motives all along in acting like that though, because you can no longer feel the worry you had in the midst of dinner, nor are you contemplating all the logistics of everything and everyone involved.

you’re almost to the bedroom when wooyoung stops you — presses you up against the wall with his chest to your front hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs actually, and he catches your lips with his own before you have a chance to inhale any air into your body. it’s rough, as far as first kisses go, but you suppose neither of you are after anything formal or romantic in this moment. no, it’s far more primal than that, an intense desire to feel your tongues against each other, and you open your mouth to grant him passage into your wet cavern within a few seconds of having his lips on yours. he’s the one to take the lead, as discussed, and you revel in the feeling of letting your body go slack under wooyoung’s weight. he slides a palm up the front of your body, gliding over the fabric of your dress until he reaches your throat, then his fingers settle around the column of it. two seconds later, he’s pulling off your mouth to let you gasp in deep breaths of air before those same fingers constrict and rob you of that blessed ability. you let out a whine, hands flying forward to latch onto his suit jacket.

“wooyoung…”

“if you want something, i’m gonna need you to use your words, darling.” he rocks forward and presses a thigh between your legs hard enough to connect with your folds through the layers of clothes separating you. “you get what i give you, and i’ll give you whatever you want so long as you tell me exactly what it is you want. understood?”

you nod against him, nose knocking against his cheek as you exhale as best you can.

“c’mon, lemme hear that pretty voice, baby.”

“yes… i understand, i understand.”

“not gonna call me sir? or master?” wooyoung tips his head back as he laughs, and you grit your teeth this time, a little flare of annoyance pushing through the arousal. “daddy?”

“don’t push your luck.”

“i think we agreed on something, dear. surely you can manage that one little phrase?”

“yes, sir.” it’s far more humiliating than you imagined it would be, maybe partially because you see wooyoung as your equal and addressing him as someone above you in any sense pushes that aside intensely. yet, at the same time, the grin it earns you makes you feel pleased with yourself, a heady pleasure that you’ve done well in his eyes with just those two words. because past the humiliation is the inherent need for praise and to hear that he’s enjoying this even if you can feel his arousal pressing up against the front of your thigh.

“there we go.” wooyoung catches your chin with his index finger and pushes your face up until he can look you in the eye. “that’s my good girl.” your fingers tighten around his jacket. “are you gonna keep being good for me now?”

“yes sir.”

“who knew my friend’s wife could be so pliant and obedient,” wooyoung purrs back, and a whole new wave of shame hits you when you finally remember that you are in fact married and not to the man who is currently touching you. he pulls away from your body after nosing the inside of your jaw. you miss the heat of his body immediately, suddenly feeling much more exposed than before as you peel yourself off the wall under his discerning stare. “now that we’re on the same page, how about you take me to bed, yeah?”

the gesture of him sinking his teeth into his lower lip and looking over your body from head to toe is downright primal in nature, and your words slip out without much thought.

“don’t you have any shame? or are you this arrogant when fucking married women without the permission you’ve been granted with me?”

it’s the wrong move, at least in wooyoung’s eyes.

he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyes glinting a bit in the low light of the hallway, and his hands return to his pockets where he shoves them deep inside without further ado. admittedly, you expected him to shove you back to the wall by your throat.

“don’t you have any shame?” his tone turns mocking, high-pitched to mimic your own. “spreading your legs so readily like a cheap whore when you’ve got that ring on your finger the whole time?” when he leans further away, he gives you the pleasure of seeing the bulge of his cock straining against his trousers. and despite his dig, you stare right at it without thinking twice. he cocks his head to the side next, eyes searching your face without relent, and you bite the inside of your lip.

“please, wooyoung.”

“please what. what could you possibly want from me that your husband can’t provide, y/n?” that has you shifting your weight from foot to foot, and you cross your hands in front of your body as you try to come up with a decent response.

“can’t we just—” you cut off with an exasperated sigh and step into wooyoung’s space again, hands coming to rest on his vest. “take me to the bedroom? please?”

wooyoung huffs out a laugh then dips his chin down. one of his hands moves from his pockets to snake around your back and tangle in the hair close to your scalp. he yanks hard at the strands, and your initial response is to arch your back and press your chest further into him. a whimper tumbles from your lips.

“why should i? what can i possibly offer a married woman?”

“you — you said you would—”

“said i would what? didn’t i tell you earlier what the deal was? you get what i give you, and if you want something then you have to tell me exactly what it is you want. so, let’s try again, yeah? what do you want from me?” wooyoung pulls something from his pocket with his other hand, and you belatedly catch that it’s a cigarette before he pushes it between his lips and secures it there. your jaw stutters around nothing. “be a doll and light it for me?” he shifts his jacket to show off the inside lining, which only leads to a wash of confusion over your mind until you see the lump in the inner pocket. slowly, you reach down into it to retrieve the lighter there, eyes flicking up to meet wooyoung’s at least three times as you do so. he stares back with a certain nonchalance that makes your skin prickle with embarrassment. even with his hand bundled in your hair and the bulge of his semi-erect cock pressing into your body, he seems entirely unbothered with the situation while you’re here ready to beg and grovel for him to touch you. it takes two seconds to light the cigarette hanging between his lips, and another two seconds for you to return the lighter to his pocket. when his stare continues to linger, you realize he’s waiting on you to respond to his earlier question — demand, rather, and this time you pull the words forward with more confidence.

“i want you to just rough me up and take control and ah — i’m always in control, don’t wanna be tonight, i want you to be.”

“want me to push you around and tell you what to do, is that it?” wooyoung hums as he pulls the cigarette out, hand holding you firmly in place even when he huffs the cloud of smoke out into your face. “let me guess; jongho plays the part of sweet loving doting husband so well that he always lets you take the reins?”

your lack of response is enough of an answer.

“tell me, y/n, do you enjoy being in control?”

“i do, yes,” you admit, a little breathlessly.

“i wouldn’t mind letting you take control now, if that’s what you like. why ask me to do otherwise?” you hone in on the way wooyoung pulls the cigarette to his mouth again, and the focus you give to each twitch of his lips around the base is telling.

“i… want you to show off a bit. he’s gonna be watching, isn’t he? so why not—” wooyoung exhaling another string of smoke distracts you from your train of thought, and it takes several blank blinks for you to recall it, “—why not show him how his wife submits to another man?”

wooyoung grunts and pushes back into your space, and you fling your hands forward to grip his clothes once more. when his lips find yours, it’s a taste full of smoke, something almost dirty in taste and telling of how filthy your actions are. he doesn’t take you to the wall again though; this time, he shifts your body so that you’re forced to stumble backwards towards the bedroom with his lips pressing against yours without relent. you don’t get the full taste of his hands on you, not with that cigarette hanging in one hand, but you relish in the sensation that comes from the other one raking blunt nails down your back where your dress doesn’t quite reach.

your back hits the door, and you scramble to get a grip on the handle without parting from wooyoung for long. he’s the one to pull back in the end though, just as you pop the door open and hook two fingers into the vee of his vest.

“color?” he pants into your mouth. you hum, feigning ignorance in favor of grabbing for the buttons along his clothing. “c’mon darling, i know you’re not deaf…”

“green, i’m fine, can you take this off now?”

“didn’t you give me control?” wooyoung bends a little at the waist, and it forces you to meet his blazing stare even if it’s stilted and sideways in your eyes. “trying to take it back already?”

“no, i just—”

“no what? what happened to your memory, dear? thought we established the basic rules already. you want something?”

“no, sir.”

“bed. dress off. should i make you bend over it like a proper whore? or do you wanna see my face when i fuck you raw?” that arrogance slips back in, and you hate it, you despise the sound of it on his tongue, but it doesn’t stop you from following through with his words. you step back and turn your back to him, shrugging the fabric of your dress off and stepping out of it when it pools around your ankles. the simple set of black lingerie follows — nothing fancy or mind-boggling but wooyoung regards it like it is, and turning to face him as you sit on the edge of the bed earns you an eyeful of bare skin on his side too. a flutter of arousal courses through you at the sight: cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, toned and tanned arms stripping his jacket off and tossing it to the side before mimicking the same actions with his vest as well. your gaze flits over to the door, noting that it’s been left partially open, and you’re about to comment on that before it hits you that he left it that way fully on purpose. because how else would your husband get to oversee catching you in the act with wooyoung if not through a crack in the door?

wooyoung’s cigarette is running out, a crude imagery of how your patience is doing the same because he’s taking his sweet time in unbuttoning his pants and approaching you on the bed. you push back on the mattress with your legs spread enough to allow him ample room between them. when he finally gets close, you reach out to grab him by the waist and pull his body onto the bed with you.

“i didn’t say you could touch me,” wooyoung tsks, nudging your hands away from his body. “keep your hands to yourself or i’ll tie you up.” you push your lower lip out in retaliation but it earns you nothing more than a little grin full of teeth. wooyoung extends the nub that’s left of his burning cigarette. “you mind, doll?” it doesn’t dawn on you what he means by that until he angles it down towards your thigh. “it’ll be quick, promise.”

he eyes you carefully as you sit up enough to prop your weight on your elbows.

“okay.”

“color?” he checks again, pushing the cigarette closer to your skin.

“yellow…” you start, and wooyoung’s hand immediately pauses where it is. admittedly, part of you was simply curious to see how quickly he would stop, how much the safeword system really means to him, and you’re pleasantly surprised with how swift his reaction is. “green, let’s continue, i’m green.”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah, i wanna try it, come on.”

wooyoung’s knee sinks into the mattress, and he comes up onto the bed to join you, hand inching closer to your leg. the cigarette doesn’t touch you yet though, even when his other hand comes down between your waist and arm.

“wait, i’m… yellow, actually, could we not?” you sink your teeth into your lip, heat radiating between your leg and wooyoung’s hand, and he’s quick to offer a reassuring smile and a matching nod. in a second, his weight is off the bed once more, and you watch him round the edge of the bed to snatch a tissue off the bedside table, burying the butt of the cigarette in the material with a wad a spit and rolling it between his fingers until he’s satisfied.

“remember, we stop when you say so. i may have the power in theory, but you’re fully in control of tonight, y/n.”

the reminder serves some peace of mind that lasts even as wooyoung joins you on the bed once more with both hands caging you in now. you greet him with a shy touch of lips that he’s quick to increase the pressure of within a few seconds. a thud resounds, followed by another matching one, but you’re too engrossed in the idea of his mouth to think about what it could be. sinking further back, you let his weight fully drape over your naked body. the satin of his pants isn’t rough against your bare skin, but it’s noticeable for certain, along with the hefty bulge that hasn’t dwindled in the slightest since you first felt it against your body. the smell of smoke is still heavy in the air, and the taste is especially on his tongue, but it’s something that you’re growing used to as time passes.

he’s moving too slowly for your liking — you figured this would be a quickie with little preamble, and yet wooyoung won’t pull his lips back, nor will he touch you beyond how he’s laid out on top of you now. you think that reasonably, it’s well within your right to urge him to hurry things along, so you stretch a hand towards his crotch, cupping his member through the fabric and squeezing around it lightly like you’re trying to tease.

“ah, ah, ah,” wooyoung interrupts. his own hand meets yours and catches hold of your wrist. in one swift movement, he’s pressing his thighs down on either side of your hips and moving that same wrist up to rest on the pillows over your head. you blink up at him with wide and seemingly innocent eyes. it’s not enough to prove your innocence, though, because he grabs your other hand and shoves it up to meet the first on the pillows. “didn’t i say no touching? that desperate for my cock?”

the grip on your wrist tightens to the point where it stings, but the sensation only sends more arousal down to where your crotch rubs against wooyoung’s.

“i said i’d tie you up, doll. i may not have rope, but i can make do, you know.” as though to prove his point, he pins your wrists together with one hand and stretches to grab something from your bedside table. you don’t know what it is until he’s slipping it around your flailing hands.

“is that my sleep mask?” you blurt, more baffled than anything else by his choice of item. he hums instead of responding with words and simply continues to bundle the material around your wrists until it’s secured to his liking.

“too tight?”

you frown, rubbing your wrists together as best you can.

“no… feels fine to me.”

“good, then you can exercise a lesson in restraint. keep them there, or i’ll stop touching you altogether.”

“what? but the deal was that you’d fuck me!”

“and i will, if you behave. if you don’t, then you’ll be getting yourself off as i watch you just like your husband will be. isn’t that enough incentive to do as told?”

you snap your mouth shut so hard that your teeth click together.

“there’s a good girl. wasn’t that hard, was it?” wooyoung traces your cheek with the back of his hand. if you didn’t know better, you’d think that his grin holds fondness in it, but the glint in his eyes implies something else entirely. “lube’s in the nightstand?” he continues, confirming your suspicions about that gleam. you offer a nod, and the bed dips again as he pulls back once more. the urge to pull your wrists down from their less than comfortable position crosses your mind, but at this point, you don’t think wooyoung is bluffing or playing around at all when he says that he’ll sit back and not touch you at all. thus, even though your pride disagrees greatly, you stay put without complaint and watch wooyoung move out the corner of your eye. you know exactly what he’s up to because it’s what you discussed prior to tonight, so when he nudges the inside of your knee, you spread your legs enough to prop your feet up. the click of the lube cap follows, then the telltale sound of the liquid being squeezed out, although you can’t see wooyoung’s hands moving with how you’re positioned. you see his face though, along with the intense focus on his features as he moves to flatten his chest to the bed.

it’s attractive, in a way, to see that focus and know that it’s full attention on your body and nothing else in the room. through fluttering lashes, he blinks up at your face just as his index finger presses against your perineum. it’s cold and wet and far from comfortable, and the discomfort heightens when he pushes into your tight walls to the second knuckle.

“does it hurt?” he inquires. this time, you hear no trace of arrogance or mockery in his tone — just a soft rumble of his voice against your thigh when he presses his cheek to the skin there.

“no, it’s just — been a while.”

wooyoung hums and kisses the inside of your thigh before slipping deeper into your hole.

“you’re doing well, baby. i’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

your subconsciousness picks up on another click and thud in a different part of the house, one that your body has grown attuned to after years of marriage, and you know that it means jongho has just gotten home. a low whine slips out, and you bring your thighs up higher to close around wooyoung’s shoulders.

“ah, no, no. keep them spread for me, baby girl, it’ll hurt more otherwise.”

“but jongho…”

“your loving husband is home?” wooyoung finishes your thought for you, and you give a meager little nod that echoes your concern. the man’s grin stretches like a cheshire’s. “perfect.” he takes that opportunity to sink another finger in alongside the first, and you jolt, almost bringing your wrists down before you catch yourself. “wonder what he’ll think seeing his pretty little wife pinned down like this. on your shared bed… being stretched open for another man.” your body responds to that in its own way, as your walls tighten around wooyoung’s fingers on their own accord, and he laughs against your leg. “i take it you like the idea of that? can’t wait for him to find you like this, huh? wait until he finds out what a good whore his wife is for his good friend.”

“w-wooyoung.” the stretch of his fingers inside you elicits a gasp, and he begins to scissor you open with great care. more cold liquid slips in beside those fingers, assisting the glide that’s getting easier by the second.

“what? isn’t that what you are? after all, you were the one begging and desperate for me earlier, weren’t you? make sure you’re using the proper title when crying out in pleasure on my cock.”

you aren’t expecting the third finger to join, but it fills you with a sense of dread because if wooyoung feels the need to prepare you this thoroughly then you can’t imagine the size of his cock that he’s still keeping hidden behind his pants and underwear. part of you wishes to glance over at the crack in the door to see if jongho is standing on the other side, but you don’t do so yet — the shame is still present enough to prevent you from doing that.

“bet you’re wanting me to eat you out like this too, huh?” wooyoung leans forward enough to exhale over your folds, teasing the wetness there with his pretty, curved nose, and now you whimper louder than before. if jongho truly is on the other side of the door, it’s a sound that is loud enough for him to hear for certain.

“no, i want you inside me,” you whisper like it’s a sin. “sir.”

“good girl, you remembered all on your own.” wooyoung’s fingers curl viciously inside you. a startled moan leaves your lips. if you could, you would cover your mouth with your hand but you can’t, and you’re beginning to wonder if that was part of wooyoung’s plan all along. “but you’re gonna have to speak up some. i can’t quite hear you.”

he’s a liar and a fraud, and his grin says that on its own. you have no choice but to take the bait for what it is.

“sir, please fuck me, i need you inside me.”

“so obedient when you want something,” wooyoung coos. he pulls his hand back, slipping his fingers out of your hole and stopping to trace your perineum once before he’s resituating. he doesn’t take his pants off completely — just shoves them down his thighs with his underwear — and when you finally get a full-frontal look at his cock, you choke on air because he’s far bigger than jongho in both length and girth. you’re suddenly doubting that even fitting inside your vagina, let alone your ass. wooyoung notices your petrification immediately and rests on hand on the outside of your hip. “relax, darling, we’ll go slow. really, really slow.”

you nod and try to settle back against the bed as he dribbles more lube onto his palm. it doesn’t keep your body from seizing up the second the tip of his cock prods at your perineum, and even the hand massaging your hip does nothing to ease your muscles in the slightest.

“easy, baby, you gotta relax for this to work.”

“i’m not — i’m not sure this is gonna work at all,” you hiss out. still, you exhale as evenly as you can in an effort to loosen your muscles. wooyoung pushes further against you, enough to pop the head of his cock into you, and your shoulders curl in. the man before you shifts his grip to clutch at your thighs now. he rolls his thumbs over your skin in a methodical little sequence that you desperately try to focus on rather than the obscene stretch of his cock in your ass when he sinks further into you.

you don’t know how deep he is in you when it becomes unbearable, but the unsettling feeling of your whole body being split in two overwhelms you in an instant, and you come to the startling realization that this is never going to work comfortably for you with his size, not without ample time to prepare for that kind of stretch. right now though? after a bit of fingering and no anal in months? it’s not happening.

“yellow, yellow, no, red, wooyoung, red,” you babble, eyes screwing shut when the pain reaches a new height. you feel his body moving away from yours, but even though his dick isn’t in you anymore, you still feel the burn of it. through the haze filling your brain, you register that he’s moving your wrists down from above your head, and the silk wrapped around them disappears too before his hands are on your face.

“y/n, eyes on me, can you look at me?” that’s a lot of effort in and of itself. your vision blurs a bit when you open your eyes to blink back at him, and you’re greeted with an intense look of concern. “let’s take a breather.”

“i don’t — i don’t wanna stop, i just, i know it’s not what we discussed but could you fuck me… you know?” your sudden wash of embarrassment brings a grin to wooyoung’s lips.

“in your pussy? cunt? vagina? baby maker?”

“oh, shut up,” you whine, reaching up to slap at his shoulder. the door to the bedroom is a bit more open than it used to be, and you see jongho there finally, hand on the knob and eyes regarding you with the same concern that wooyoung’s hold. you lock eyes with your husband and nod a bit, trying to communicate through those simple motions that you’re quite alright.

“would you rather do that? or something else?”

“wooyoung, i want you to fuck me.”

“okay, okay, i’m just trying to be sure. let me open you up properly first, at least.”

“please.”

wooyoung’s lips stretch wider.

“would you like to continue with the scene?”

“yes, i would. i’m green now. as long as you don’t put that fucking thing in my ass again, jesus christ.”

“i told you many times i’ve got a big dick. did you not believe me?”

you let out a noise of indignation, tossing your chin to the side as you mumble your next words.

“what was that?”

“thought you were bluffing because you’re an arrogant ass!” wooyoung can’t help but to toss his head back, and the air rings with his laughter. he moves back to rest on his knees between your legs, fingers sliding a path down through the valley of your breasts then over your navel.

“come now, doll, one thing i’ll never bluff about is my dick. but i’ll make it up to you by fucking you dumb, ‘kay?”

you find yourself unfortunately quite glad to hear that arrogance once more, and it ironically has you relaxing more against the bed. wooyoung presses your folds open as he laughs again, and the noise reverberates closer to your cunt than expected. when his nose pushes into your clit, you let out a sound that’s some odd hybrid of a moan and a gasp, which wooyoung only interrupts further by dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole.

“don’t tease, wooyoung, please.”

“scene’s back on, baby, you know what to do if you want something.”

“okay, sir, could you hurry it up?” you imagine that if you hadn’t stopped the scene earlier, wooyoung would be even more of a menace, but for now, he heeds your words and sinks his tongue into your hole. his other hand moves up to join the wet muscle, a single digit sliding in beside it as he pushes his nose harder into your clit until you’re moaning loud and clear. you don’t think twice about how noisy you’re being, not when it feels genuinely good this time around, and you bring your hands up above your head on your own accord now. it’s just to cling to the pillow like it’s a lifeline as your legs hook around wooyoung’s torso and tug him further into your pussy as best you can manage with the awkward angle. you know the goal isn’t to make you cum right now, but wooyoung seems pretty damn keen on pulling an orgasm out of you with how vigorously he’s tonguing at your hole like a man starved.

you don’t fight the feeling when white-hot pleasure begins to make your toes curl. wooyoung shifts his chin so that his nose rubs over your sensitive bud with every twitch of his tongue, and that ultimately is what sends you hurdling over the edge into the sea of pleasure. a string of profanities falls from your lips as your orgasm hits, along with a moan that rivals a porn star’s. wooyoung works you through the throes of it and pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt in time with the strong pulses of your walls until you’re left in a shuddering mess on the mattress.

“think you can take one more on my cock? or will you cum twice while i’m fucking you?” wooyoung asks. he pushes back up into your space to look you in the eye. you don’t have it in you to argue back or match his intensity with a quip of your own; all you do is whine and reach forward to clutch his shoulder.

“in me, please.”

“as you wish, doll.”

your body is much more relaxed when he pushes into your cunt, either from the orgasm or the care he put into prepping you. while it’s not entirely comfortable, you do manage to take him all the way to the hilt without feeling an ounce of pain or burning. wooyoung hooks his hands around your sides, resting at the top of your ass and lifting you off the bed to match his height as he continues to kneel over you. you bring the pillow behind you down with you when he tugs you forward to meet his hips.

“feel better this time?”

“so much better, fuck,” you exhale, head falling to the side when you feel his cock twitch against your walls. “you can move, i’m green, i’m alright.”

“good, good, because i’m gonna cum embarrassingly early if i don’t start focusing on something else.” wooyoung rocks his hips and uses that momentum to tug your body towards his, thrusting deeper than before. it knocks the air out of you and punches several less than pretty moans from your lungs in an impressively short time, but that only seems to serve as further incentive to fuck you harder. you get no warning before wooyoung is folding your legs up to rest on his shoulders and bending you in half on the bed. his hands slip down to the mattress, veins straining on the backs of his hands as he fucks into you with his full weight. “does it feel good, y/n?” his tone is strained now more than ever, but he still manages a grin somehow.

“y-yes, fuck, feels ah, amazing.”

“your husband is watching, you know. watching you be wrecked and used by another man.” wooyoung must like that idea himself because his next thrusts are harder than the last few. “getting off to the sight of your pussy being filled by his friend.”

“w-woo,” you gasp. his cock knocks up against that delightful spot inside you, and you can’t keep yourself from snaking a hand down between your bodies to roll your fingers over your clit again. “harder, ah, fuck me harder.”

“you like it too, huh?” wooyoung shifts again and now his hands rest on the fronts of your thighs, meeting the skin where your hips and legs meet. he uses the new leverage to drag over your g spot again and again, and he matches each of your pretty noises with groans of his own as he fucks you towards his own orgasm. “gonna fuck you full of my cum right in front of his eyes. where’s your shame, y/n? what if i get you pregnant on my cum? gonna remember how well i fucked you for sure if that happens, won’t you?”

“g-gonna cum, woo, fuck.” it’s a miracle you get that much out because your orgasm hits very suddenly and very abruptly a second later, body seizing with the sensation, and your back arches off the bed while wooyoung continues to fuck his thick cock in and out of your pulsing walls. you go silent through this orgasm, so overwhelmed with the euphoric feeling that you can’t even manage to moan.

“that’s it, doll, cum on my cock, just like that,” wooyoung grunts from above you. his blunt nails dig into your thighs, and the sensation grounds you as you come down from your second high with a heaving chest and pants leaving your mouth every second. “so tight around me, you feel so good. wanna cum in you, y/n. fuck you nice and full of my cum for your husband to see.”

“do it, please, cum in me, sir you can cum in me now,” you ramble without a single coherent thought rolling through your head. wooyoung exhales another expletive before his thrusts lose their steady rhythm. the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin heightens as he approaches his high, and it only takes a few more shaky thrusts before he’s stilling completely inside you. the warmth that spreads through your abdomen is pleasant and cozy. his member twitches once more inside you as wooyoung fully empties his load into your waiting cunt, then he’s falling back to settle on his heels just as breathless as you.

“jesus,” he sighs. you watch him move with heavy lids, comfortable exhaustion settling over your body in the aftermath of the sex, and wooyoung combs through his hair with shaky fingers.

“afraid he’s got nothing to do with this, woo.”

you grin without thought at the sound of your husband’s voice ringing in the room loud and clear.

“close enough to his birthday that it counts, right?” wooyoung casts a glance over his shoulder. “i take it you enjoyed that as much as we did.”

“maybe even more than both of you combined, honestly.” jongho lets out a nervous laugh, and you can picture the way he rubs at the back of his neck as your eyes fall shut.

“do you mind if i grab a towel to get her cleaned up?”

“not at all, be my guest.” the warmth inside you dissipates as wooyoung slips out of your used cunt. the weight on the mattress shifts as well, and you hear the thud of his feet hitting the ground before he’s retreating to the bathroom. a different hand comes to cup your cheek. you force your eyes open enough to gaze upon jongho’s face, taking in the sheen of sweat on his skin and the grin on his lips. his pupils are still blown wide as well, despite the sweet fondness in his gaze. “you enjoy yourself, honey?”

“yeah, shit, that was quite the present.”

jongho huffs out a laugh before bending over the bed to rest his lips on your forehead.

“i need to go change pants, then i’ll be out to help you two clean up.”

“damn, made you cum in your pants like a teenager again?” you tease as he pulls back.

“don’t start holding that over my head, or i’ll never ask for this to happen again.”

a/n: god this fic just wouldn’t END jfc it was such a slog to get thru i hope it’s good i’m glad it’s over now tho god damn falkjdflksdjf the last for the collab finally !!! we all hope that you guys enjoyed this fun collab and the works that came out of it, it was a lot of fun to write with my besties and do fun holiday-ish fics! now we’ll be back to my regular chaos 😎

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #ateez drabble #ateez drabbles #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung drabble #wooyoung drabbles #jongho smut #jongho x reader #jongho fic #jongho oneshot #jongho drabble #jongho drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez ff

[dreamlessinparis]

Set My World Ablaze

Summary: Being in love with your best friend is always a struggle, especially when she has no idea. Or so you think.

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3522

Warning: smut, angst, sexual tension, f/f, language, Wanda Maximoff (she's babe and thus a warning), alcohol, fluff, friends to lovers, 18+, DNI if you're a minor

A/N: This is my submission for @msmarvelwrites 2k writing challenge and the song prompt that I based this on was Dress. I'm obsessed with this song and I knew I wanted to write this story from the very beginning. It just took me a bit longer than I anticipated because I kept fighting with myself over it

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

Wanda’s fingers ran through your hair, as she created an intricate updo on top of your head. Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the feeling of her nimble fingers in your long tresses.

“You gonna fall asleep on me, lovely?” Her melodic voice questioned, her Sokovian accent sending a thrill up your spine. You couldn’t help it, you were in love with your best friend and she was the only one who didn’t know.

Ever since Wanda had joined the team, you two were inseparable. Initially having bonded over your similar powers, the friendship quickly grew. Now two years later, and that feeling of friendship had bloomed into something more. At least for you. Every day you fell more and more in love with her.

Every time Wanda entered the room, your heart skipped a beat and sometimes you found yourself staring at her until someone nudged you out of your stupors. Luckily you were able to shield her from reading your thoughts or your friendship would long have been ruined. She didn’t feel that way for you and you knew she never would.

“Honey?” she questioned again.

“Mhmm?” you mumbled, drawing a sweet giggle out of her.

“Are you falling asleep, darling?”

“Yess,” You nodded, eyes still shut.

“Well you’re gonna have to wake up because I’m all done.”

“Noooooo,” you groaned, head falling back into her lap. She leaned forward, her beautiful hair creating a cocoon around you two. “You can’t be done, it feels too good!”

Smiling, she kissed your nose and gently moved your head, so she could get up.

“I have magic fingers,” she smirked, wiggling her fingers at you. You chuckled, her playful antics were rarely present these days, the stress of all these missions getting to you all.

“Yes you do, now come back and continue your magic finger treatment,” you pouted.

She shook her hand, “I can’t babe, I promised Vision I would train with him. But I promise tonight we can have a movie night, just the two of us!”

Getting off the ground, you followed her out, walking with her to the training room

“Sounds great, but we can’t tonight. Tony’s throwing that extravagant party, celebrating that one mission we didn’t die on, remember?” The one you still had to find a dress for.

“Oh no, you’re right! I completely forgot about that!” Wanda exclaimed. She suddenly gripped your arm, stopping you. “We should go together! That way neither one of us will be alone!”

Her words hurt your heart because you knew she didn’t mean it as you wanted her to, but nonetheless, you plastered a smile on and agreed quickly, before excusing yourself.

~

Natasha was leaning by your door as you approached and she pushed off the wall, trailing you into the room.

“You know you should just tell her how you feel?” she said, as you plopped down on your couch in a huff.

“Tell who what?” you asked, playing dumb. Nat gave you a ‘seriously’ look and you shook your head “I can’t tell her. She sees me as a friend, that’s all. And I love her too much to lose her.”

“So you choose to be unhappy.”

“You know better than all of us, that us avengers rarely find happiness,” you joked, and she shoved you playfully.

“Oh shut up!” she chuckled. “We should find you an amazing dress for tonight, that’ll help you feel like yourself again.”

You shrugged, sure that she was right but your heart just wasn’t in it. Alas, you let her drag you out to go shopping. Armed with Tony’s credit card, she found a cute boutique that was very misleading because you knew if you looked at any of the tags, you’d had a heart attack.

Watching as she tore through the racks of dresses, you sat on a comfy poof with a champagne flute in hand. She was a menace, throwing dress after dress in a pile you knew she was gonna make you try.

Shaking your head, you stood up and began scanning through the dresses yourself, running your hand over the material. A burgundy dress caught your eye, the satiny material, cut in a deep v, tight but not too tight with a slit up the thigh. It was beautiful.

You snuck into the back without alerting Nat, and into a dressing room. The dress fit perfectly, hugging every curve of your body and for a second you imagined Wanda seeing you in this and falling head over heels in love with you. Oh, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

“Y/n? Where did you go?” you hear Natasha call out and peeked your head out of the room.

“Back here, Nat. I found a dress,” you hollered back. She let out a frustrated huff, knowing her efforts were wasted on you. You exited the dressing room and her eyes widened as she took in your silhouette.

“Wow! I’m impressed, you did almost as good of a job as I would have,” Nat said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “Now if you let me do your hair and makeup, I’m sure we can make Wanda not know what hit her.”

You quickly threw a hanger at her, which she dodged effortlessly, laughing as she left you to change.

The shopping trip didn’t last long after that, as you came to the counter to find Nat with her dress and a pair of heels for you. She was lucky you were very dexterous, otherwise, you would fall flat on your face in those shoes and what kind of impression would you make then?

~

“Okay Nat, you’re overdoing it, I can feel it,” you complained, as she ran the brush along your cheekbones in feather light motions. She tsked you, ignoring your billionth complaint of the night. “Natttttt!” “Stop complaining or I will mess up and we’ll have to start all over,” She threatened. A light knock interrupted your rebuttal and you both looked at the door. “There, you’re all done,” she smiled, booping you on the nose with the brush before she took the cloth off, the one she had tied around your neck to avoid messing up your dress with makeup.

“Finally!” you said exasperatedly, heading to the door. You opened it to reveal Wanda in a pretty rose gold dress, the v of the dress was nearly down to her navel, accentuating the slopes of her breasts and tiny waist, the sequins were scattered with a few in flower shapes, all catching the light with each movement. She looked like an absolute goddess with her long hair in loose waves. The smile she gave you lit up her entire face, causing your heart to race.

“Wow, you look beautiful!” She exclaimed pulling the rather speechless you into a tight hug. You hoped she couldn’t feel your raging heartbeat. Natasha laughed under her breath, covering it up as a cough and you quickly flipped her the bird from behind Wanda’s back.

“Thank you, Wanda. So do you,” you managed to get out without stumbling over your words. A quick round of applause, ladies and gentlemen! You pulled away from her and the three of you headed downstairs.

~

Natasha conveniently leaving the two of you to join Steve at the bar. Bruce was in charge of drinks tonight so you knew you’d most likely be hungover in the morning. That man did not know how to portion alcohol appropriately.

Wanda scanned the room, her arm looped through yours, waving to some of your friends. She pulled you alongside her as she came to the group of couches where Bucky, Sam, and Vision sat.

“Doll, that dress is immaculate,” Bucky complimented as you sat down next to him with Wanda beside you. Vision pulled Wanda into a discussion about their workout earlier and you turned your attention to Sam and Bucky.

“Thanks, Buck! Nat and I went shopping this afternoon,” you said, smiling at the super-soldier. You couldn’t deny that he was a god of a man and you probably checked him out almost as much as you did Wanda. Bucky Barnes was a gift to womankind and he knew it.

His eyes looked you over and you leaned forward a bit, placing your purse on the coffee table, causing his eyes to wander to your cleavage.

“Well you two did a great job picking out dresses,” He replied, eyes reluctantly leaving your chest. His eyes glanced over your shoulders and widened briefly, before returning to you nervously. You turned to look over your shoulder, only seeing Wanda talking with Vision and a room full of people mingling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Bucky still looked a bit spooked when you return to him but as the conversation flows, him and Sam have you laughing uncontrollably. At some point, Wanda brought you a drink, and another and another until your whole body felt so hot and your dress felt like it was smothering you.

You leaned back into her, her sweet scent enveloping you like a warm hug. She giggled at something Bucky said or didn’t say, you weren’t exactly sure at this point, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, hand resting by your breast.

“And that’s when I had to intervene, you know? Or Steve was going to get his ass handed to him for the last time,” Bucky chuckled recalling a time when Steve got his ass kicked. Steve tossed a pillow at him as the crowd laughed along with Bucky. Those two were probably the only ones not hammered at this point.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you said, your words only slightly slurred. You could handle your alcohol well, but you were still quite tipsy and as you went to stand up, you wobbled. Wanda’s hand shot out, her powers wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. You gained your footing, nodding thanks to her, and headed carefully to the bar.

“I need another drink please, good sir,” you said, leaning haphazardly against the bar. Bruce’s lip quirked up in a half-smile as he handed you a pink concoction. You took it without question and started sipping, resting against the counter as you looked around the now practically empty room. Only the Avengers and close friends were left; it was always your favorite time of the night when it was just all of you having a good time.

“I think it’s time to head to bed, love,” Wanda’s accented voice whispered in your ear, her warm breath trailing along your skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh.

“Bed?” you asked confused. “You’re going to take me to bed?” the lack of filter elevated by the alcohol in your system.

“If that’s what you want, baby,” she said, “You don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me. The way you watch me, the way you stumble over your words when I’m around.”

You backed away from her, thinking she was mocking you, that she had made it through your mental barriers. “Wanda, don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. She tilted her head to the side, in that cute way that she does and grabbed your hands.

“I want you, y/n. I’m not messing with you. I want you too.” she reassured you, pulling you closer to her until her arms wrapped around your waist. Her fingers lingered over the bare skin of your back as she drew shapes on your skin, calming you almost instantly.

“Really?” you said, feeling ridiculous at how pathetic you sounded.

She leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on your lips and you whimpered against her lips. The kiss was electrifying, just the feeling of her against you ignited a dormant spark in you. Tugging you closer, she pressed herself against you. She tugged on your bottom lip as she separated from you. “Really, love. I almost took Barnes out earlier for the way he was staring.”

“You’re the one who spooked him?” you questioned. She nodded, with a wicked smile.

“Ever since I saw you in that dress, all I’ve wanted to do is peel it off you and if I wasn’t doing, no one else was going to.”

Lips to her ears, you said “Well good because I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Wanda grabbed your hand, and the two of you made your way to the elevator, giggling the whole way there. Oblivious to anything else. You were sure Natasha was probably smirking knowingly while the rest just stared.

~

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom when you pressed Wanda into a wall, slotting your thigh between hers.

“I don’t want you like a best friend. I haven’t for a long time,” you admitted against her lips before pulling her into a passionate kiss. Wanda’s hands grasped at the ample flesh of your ass, as she ground herself on your thigh.

Your hand cupped her face, holding her close, pausing for a moment to take her in, the moonlight from the window caressing the line of her throat, the swell of her heaving chest, the glimmer of her sequined dress.

Her fingers danced up your torso to the zipper on your side, lowering it with ease, before sliding the straps down your shoulders. You shimmied out of the dress and helped her slip her dress off, leaving you both in nothing but your panties.

Dresses discarded on the floor, you pulled her close, pressing your lips to Wanda’s neck. Her breasts bouncing lightly, her cheeks flushed, sweet nothings whispering from her lips, as she let her head fall back. Your lips sank lower, down to her breast, teasing one pebble-hard nipple, circling it with your tongue.

She pushed you onto the bed and you groaned as her teeth nipped at your neck. She crushed you to her, settling between your legs, skin to skin, every sweet curve at her fingertips. The red hue of her powers danced along your skin, making every part of you tingle. The added sensations made your back arch, your skin gliding along hers. Her fingertips dragged down your ribs, over the swell of your hips, finally brushing along the inside of your thighs.

A thrill sizzled up your spine and her eyes darkened at the sight of you. She was enjoying the way you were coming apart for her, unabashed and wanting.

“Wanda, I -” you panted as you felt Wanda drawing tight, firm circles over your clit with her clever fingers. She kept her pace steady, listening to you moan in time to her fingers.

It was truly like nothing you had ever known, even with previous lovers. The jolting current of her fingers combined with the soft kisses along your collarbones, your neck, your breasts. You mewled as she pulled a nipple into her mouth, lathing it with her tongue. You felt like time stood still, nothing but her teasing tongue and your breathless sighs, a heat building between your legs, setting your whole body aflame.

“Oh Wanda, yes,” you whispered.

“You like that, pretty baby?”

“Don’t stop,’’ you pleaded. She kissed you swallowing your pleas, your moans, all your sweet sounds. Her lips were like honey, warm and soft against yours. Your body writhing beneath her as Wanda’s fingers rolled over your swollen bud.

“I want to taste you,” She breathed, nuzzling into the valley of your breasts. You nodded, rapidly, the feel of her fingers making you yearn for more. You needed her mouth on you soon, before you lost it.

Kissing down your body, slow as melting ice, she ran her tongue along your sweat-beaded skin, her hand still strumming between your thighs. She pressed long, languid kisses on your belly, your hips, tracing around your navel with the tip of her tongue.

Spreading out your thighs with her hands, you laid splayed out on the bed before her. She watched you with a fierce look in her eye and her eyes drifted down to your silken softness, drenched in your slick. She moved slowly, running her tongue through your folds, flickering in and out.

You mewled and sighed, hips grinding, your hands in her hair, pulling her in tighter. Wanda moaned against you, feeling consumed by the taste of you, thirsty, starving for the flood of nectar on her tongue.

With a wave of her hand, she wrapped her powers around your breasts, pinching and rolling at the swollen nipples. The abundance of pleasure was quickly hurdling you towards the edge. You lost yourself as Wanda went to work in earnest, eyes rolling back in your head, fingers gripping the sheets blindly as you urged her on.

Your sounds made Wanda feel all-powerful, her every movement, every flick of her tongue or touch of her lips drawing out a groan, whispered pleas, a tremor running down the length of your body. With every drag of her tongue, your moans grew louder, longer until her tongue flicked over your pulsing bud, causing your body to tense up like a bowstring, spine arching. Your thighs clamped on either side of Wanda’s head, every muscle taut and shaking as your toes curled and you shrieked loudly.

Your whole body fell limp in the breathless aftermath, Wanda lapping up your release, tracing light circles over you, savoring your taste. Grinning mischievously she sank her tongue deeper into your petals, making you groan and reach for her head.

“Enough, gorgeous, enough,” you begged, pulling her back up your body. You enfolded her in your arms, your bodies melding into one as you flipped her over. Her legs wrapped around your waist as she kissed you feverishly, a long hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips and you groaned, sucking on her bottom lip. Wanda smacked your ass, making you gasp and bite her lip, almost drawing blood.

“That was incredible,” she breathed out, licking her lips.

“Beginner’s luck?” you smirked down at her and she snarled in response.

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” she rebutted. “If you’re so cocky about it, love, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

You kissed down her jawline, and she craned her head back, giving you full access to her neck. Your lips drifted down her throat, teeth grazing over her pulse point. Your fingernails traced lines of lust down her body, to her inner thighs.

“Say please” you taunted, kissing along her heated skin, nibbling marks on her gorgeous peaks. Your tongue flicked over a hardened nipple and Wanda whimpered, arching into you. You continued your descend down, situating yourself in between her thighs.

“W-what?” she panted.

“Say,” you whispered, nipping at the divet of her thigh and her sex. “Please.”

Wanda was hard-headed and stubborn, never one to bow down to anyone, but the way your fingers danced over her, light as a breeze, Wanda felt her belly begin to tighten as your tongue drew a tightening spiral around her clit.

“Say it,” you whispered again, flicking your tongue in a quick motion. The ache between her hips was a sweet agony, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Wanda, baby, say please and...” the light brush of your tongue, made her buck and shiver, “...I’ll give you what you want.”

Wanda lifted her heavy head, looking down the length of her body to you, ready to devour her. Anticipation was making it hard for her to breathe, eyes fluttering closed, she let her head fall back as she gave herself over to you entirely.

“Please.” Wanda panted.

A low, broken moan escaped her lips as you went to work, lips and tongues dancing through her folds. She had no idea where you had learned your skills, and any ex-lovers who may have had this pleasure from you, were now on Wanda’s hit list. She felt herself get wetter, her heat pulsed with every brush of your tongue. The bedsheet twisted in her fist as you slid a finger inside her, curling, coaxing, stroking against the spot that made her see stars.

The rhythm of your tongue matched your touch, and a second finger joined the first. Her back arched, lifting her hips to ground against your face, hands snarled in your hair. Wanda’s hips bucked wildly, and stars bloomed in her vision as your lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard. The heat inside her burst into ravenous flames and she lost herself, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

Coming down from her blinding high, Wanda felt you beside her, soft lips leaving sweet kisses on her face, and finally her lips. You hooked a leg over hers, and she wrapped an arm around you, tugging you close. Nuzzled into her, you basked in her warm embrace.

“I hope you know I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.” Wanda said softly. You kissed her neck and hummed in approval.

“All yours,” you vowed, slowly beginning to doze off, her hand stroking your hair.

“Maybe next time, we’ll invite Bucky to join,” was the last thing you hear before sleep pulled you under.

Taglist:

@fuckandfluff @caffiend-queen @jobean12-blog

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #msmarvel2kchallenge #dress by taylor swift

[angelz-dust]

Bro cowboy!jason with some smut would be beautiful 😭

yeehaw baby - minors avert y'all eyes 🤠

(as i was writing this i realized i was writing a female reader but if you'd like a male or gender neutral reader instead let me know and i'll come with up an whole new scenario!!)

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what's a sheriff without his hat? (jason todd x female reader)

warnings: nsfw 18+ (no condom, pulling out - wrap it up y'all). angst if you squint.

...

"sheriff!"

you kicked in the doors to the saloon, gathering the attention of some of the patrons nearby. the place smelled of smoke and sweat, which was why you tried your best to avoid the spot altogether. however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so with sheriff todd making it his new hangout spot. the bastard could've picked a place with a bit more circulation as far as you were concerned.

"sheriff!" you yelled again, holding your dress up as your steps increased in speed. you saw the man in his booth with deputy harper and the rest of their little posse. they felt more like thugs to you.

"he's asleep," the woman, artemis, said to you as she opened her bottle of booze on the side of the table, subsequently chipping off some of the wood. you weren't sure if it was due to the poor structural integrity or her strength. probably both.

"i don't give a damn if he's neck deep in his grave," you spat, walking up to him. his seat was leaned back, which mean he was definitely awake. no one could balance their own weight like that and be unconscious. his hat was covering his face, some smoke coming out of the sides. asleep my ass.

you ripped the hat off of his face, bellows of cigarette smoke barreling out. his eyes shot open, the white slightly red from how he was abusing them just now. how he was still breathing, you didn't know. maybe the rumors about him coming back to life and being immortal were true.

"can i help you?" he glared, making an attempt to snatch his hat back from you. you quickly pulled back, making his seat lunge forward and his chest hit the table. you heard the deputy snort at the scene. "as my companion just told you, i'm asleep."

your glared right back at him, holding his hat behind your back. "you promised to keep those hooligans away from my place of business, todd."

"did i?" he asked you, giving you a fake grin. "well, i'm sorry little lady. it musta slipped my mind."

"don't get smart with me!" you snapped at him, the entire saloon getting quiet now. everyone was suddenly very interested in your little spat. "you're supposed to be protecting us and all you do is sit on your ass. i'm surprised you ain't collecting dust already."

"someone should sew that damn mouth of yours shut. maybe then we'd get some peace and quiet around here," he said back, getting a few chuckles from his little fan club. "give me my hat back."

you stared at him as your frustrations bubbled inside of you. that's all he had to say? his lack of concern for your issue just let you know what kind of man you already knew he was. he wanted his hat back? fat chance. you silently grinned at him before turning around and starting to walk out of the saloon. screw him and his stupid hat.

"hey!" he shouted as you continued walking off. you could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floorboards. he was coming after you. "get back here!"

you sped up, running out of the saloon and back towards the bathhouse. maybe if you got him off his sorry ass he'd be more willing to hear you out. that is, if the theft of his precious little hat didn't irritate him too much. if you weren't so preoccupied with outrunning him, you'd love to see the look on his face. you made it up the few step to the front door, where he quickly caught up with you. you pressed your back against it, securing the hat in between.

the sheriff glowered down at you, his hand pressed against the doorframe above you. you stared into each other's eyes, the sounds of your panting breath sinking up with one another. as much as he agitated you to no end, he was a very handsome man. it was the only thing that had kept you from shooting him in that pretty face.

"you've had your fun," he told you with a low tone, holding his other hand out. "now give it back."

you were surprised he hadn't just tossed you around and took it for himself. back when jas- the sheriff... first came to town, he seemed like a respectable man. you didn't cross paths very often, but every encounter with him was pleasant and memorable. he was kind, sometimes even a little flirty with you. he was a little rough around the edges. all those cowboys seemed to share that trait. but it was worse when when he returned after disappearing for a long time. you barely recognized him. it seemed he had been hardened by... whatever it was he experienced while he was gone. you didn't ask, nor did you care. he and his gaggle of dirty thugs had taken control of the town and it's been this way ever since.

"you don't deserve it," you decided to say, relishing in the instant gratification that came from seeing his expression change so quickly. oh, he was angry and you loved it. "you're no sheriff. you're an outlaw. you don't care about anybody but yourself."

you felt the hot air blow out of his nose and you had to fight back the smirk that was playing at your lips. you looked down and saw his hand moving towards your waist. the hell was he trying to do? before you could move or protest, you had fallen backwards into the bathhouse, right onto the freshly cleaned floor. he looked down at you from where he stood with a smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. you scrambled away from him, his hat still firmly in your grip. you got yourself off the floor, ready for whatever he was going to try.

instead of making his way towards you like you assumed he would, he looked around the place, taking in his surroundings. he eventually started walking in your direction. it was menacing watching him slowly approach you with an expressionless face. he stopped at the counter, looking down at the little bell. pressing his finger on it, it rung. he waited a few seconds before ringing it a few more times, looking over at you expectantly. your gaze narrowed as you made your way behind the counter.

"yes?" you asked with gritted teeth.

"i'd like to have a bath, please."

"... i'm sorry, sir, but we've had to close early today on the account of having no sheriff to protect my girls from harassment," you explained with a sickly sweet smile. "if we had a sheriff, which we don't, then maybe my girls would feel comfortable continuing to work. but since we don't, there's nothing i can do to help you. sorry for the inconvenience."

you saw a flicker of what appeared to be remorse on his face. he looked down at the counter, his finger tracing the grooves. "you're here, aren't you?"

"you must be out of your natural mind."

"why? because i'm requesting that the bathhouse worker give me a bath?" he asked with a snarky tone.

"that you're requesting anything of me after disregarding my concerns earlier."

he pulled some money out of his pocket, slamming it on the counter. "let's discuss it over a bath."

...

this was the last thing you wanted to be doing. you stared at the back of his head as he laid in the tub of warm water. you grabbed the rag from the bucket of soapy water, ringing it out and bringing it to his chest. as much as you wanted to be rough with him, your desire to not touch him at all prompted you to just be gentle instead. you heard him let out a content sigh as you scrubbed him down.

"you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? so talk," he said, resting his chin in his hand while you worked.

"i already told you what the problem was," you reminded him, lightly pressing against his back to get him to sit up. you scrubbed his back, watching as the dirt and grime disappeared, revealing his actual skin color.

"don't present a problem without a solution. what do you want me to do?"

"kill them."

he let out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, laying back down once you finished with his back. your fingers went to his hair as you poured some water of it, massaging it into his scalp. you could've sworn you felt him leaning into your touch. "isn't killing your clientele bad for business?"

"their existence is bad for business," you told him matter of factly, leaning down to wash his stomach. "i want them gone."

"now darling," he chuckled softly, turning his head towards you. his scruff brushed against your skin, making you shiver. "you know i can't do that. try again."

you could feel your face heating up, so you pulled away, washing his arms now. you dragged the rag along his muscles, revealing all kinds of scars as you cleaned him. "give them a stern talking to."

"about what?"

"respecting my girls."

"or else what?"

"use your imagination."

he hummed with a nod as you finished up with his upper body. "i can do that."

you threw the wet rag at his face, making him flinch. he dragged down his face, plopping into the bath water. "i'm not washing you below the belt. you can see yourself out."

...

after dramatically stomping your way up to your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes and into your nightgown. being around the sheriff was exhausting and you weren't going to waste anymore time on him. your only hope was that he'd stay true to his word. as you were getting ready to retire for the night, you heard a knock at your door.

"i want my damn hat back, y/n. i'll kick the door down if i have to," you heard him say through the door. you went and grabbed it off of your dresser, putting it on your head and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i think i'll keep it for myself, actually."

"you have five seconds to open this door."

out of frustration, he start twisting the knob. unbeknownst to him, it was never locked to begin with. he opened the door, surprise on his face as he let himself in. he looked over at you, the same expression on his face, but for a different reason now.

"take it off."

"i actually quite like it, so i don't think i will."

he must have been fed up with you at this point, because he started approaching you with purpose in his step. you stepped back some, slipping on the length of your gown and falling back on the bed. the hat had fallen off of your head, onto the floor. instead of going around to pick it up, he found himself on top of you. the two of you held eye contact, but it was different from earlier.

"why do you do these things to me?" he asked you softly. "i'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

"i don't like you."

"you used to like me."

that may have been true once upon a time, but it wasn't the case now. the person you used to like didn't exist anymore. he was replaced with a hollow shell of a man and you wanted nothing to do with him.

his thumb made its way to the corner of your mouth and your heart started racing. "i still like you," he said with a small frown, his fingers tracing your jaw and moving down your neck. "i think deep down you still like me."

"no," you responded without missing a beat. his hand was on your chest, feeling the shockwaves of your pulse underneath. "i don't."

"i think you do."

you wanted to badly to smack him in his face but his response was different than you expected. the snark and smugness you were expecting was replaced with a tenderness you were unfamiliar with. or, more accurately, had forgotten he was capable of conveying. he sounded honest. genuine. like he really believed what he was saying. or wanted to, at least.

that's what caused you to let your guard down and let him in. his nose rubbed against yours before he leaned down, giving you a kiss. his large hand cupped your cheek while his other one lifted you off of your back and into his lap. you parted from him and he looked at you with a little smile. "see?"

"that doesn't count," you objected, despite not moving out of your new position. you actually found yourself getting comfortable, placing your legs on both sides of his lap. you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

"sure it does," he insisted, grabbing his hat and putting it back on your head. he laid back on the bed, starting to slowly undo his belt. you didn't dare look down at what he was doing, too stubborn to give him the full satisfaction, but you didn't stop him either. you felt your own arousal becoming stronger. it was hard to ignore when you didn't have any underwear on to begin with.

you soon felt his tip rubbing against your slickness and you sucked in a gasp, getting his attention. he stopped moving, looking up at you for approval to continue. still feeling stubborn, you just looked away and felt him slip inside of you. his hands moved up your thighs and to your hips, repositioning the skirt of your gown. it allowed the two of you to reserve a bit of modesty in your compromising state.

the first movements were shallow and slow, as you were both trying to adjust. it didn't take long for you both to find a rhythm. soft pants and moans came from you as you rode him, his hips thrusting upwards so you weren't doing all the work. you had been resisting from touching him, but as he bounced you on his lap, his hand went to yours. his fingers grazed yours, sloppily laced together as he brought it towards his mouth. he planted a kiss on your palm, placing it on his heart.

shifting your weight, you pressed your hand firmly against his chest and he picked up the pace, his hips snapping up into you. your arm was starting to grow tired and he picked up on it. he sat up, pulling you into him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning against it while his hands slid up your back, one at the top of your spine and the other at your ribs. you continued rocking against him while his mouth made quick work of your neck, sucking at the junction between it and your shoulder.

your moans became embarrassingly loud. you were just glad no one else was around to hear them. jason kissed up the base of your neck until he met your lips, swallowing up all of your sounds. you felt his hat slipping off of your head and you both reached back to catch it, his hand on top of yours. the two of you smiled into the kiss as he readjusted it for you.

feeling your release coming up, you slipped your fingers down to your clit, teasing it to help push yourself over the edge. jason moaned against your lips as he pulled out of you, making a mess on your nightgown. you were too blinded by your own pleasure to yell at him as you continued rubbing yourself. you felt his fingers probing at your entrance, thrusting in and out until you came all over them.

"sorry about the stain," he breathed out, pulling the skirt up in an effort to keep it from touching you. his other hand worked to untie the bow in the back, making it easier for you to get it off. he grabbed his hat from off your head and used it to cover his face while you slipped out of the gown. you set it aside, pulling your blankets up to cover yourself. "are you decent?"

"yes," you answered as he lowered it, giving you a grin before putting it back on your head. your eyes peered upwards at the brim. "i thought you wanted it back."

"i'll come get it later. there are a few men i need to give a stern talking to first," he said, fixing his pants and getting up. "you'll be here when i get back, won't you?"

you raised your brow at him, chuckling. "it's not like i have somewhere else to be."

"i'll be back soon," he winked before walking over to the door. "oh, and darling?"

"...yes?"

"leave that on for me, alright?"

#jason todd x reader #askbox

[onceuponabarnes]

I Miss You, James

summary \\ professor!bucky and student!reader have an interesting night

word count \\ 2.6k

warnings \\ smut, 18+ only minors dni

You pulled your pen between your teeth, eyes bright as you focused on the beautiful sight in front of you, ready to time your actions just right. Bucky was perched on his desk, eyes trained to his phone screen as he waited for the majority of his class to file in and find a seat. Just as he looked up, ready to tuck his phone away into his desk drawer, you hit send.

I can’t wait to see you tonight. I miss you, James

“He’s going to kill you,” Wanda teased from beside you, watching as the man at the front of the class flushed beet red before glaring at you. “It’s kinda hot”, she whispered.

You slapped her playfully on the bicep. “Eyes off,” you instructed through a muffled laugh.

As you were chuckling with Wanda, Bucky made the short trip from the front of the classroom to where you were sitting. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked lowly so as not to draw any attention to the two of you.

You looked up through your lashes, as innocent as you could manage. “No, Professor Barnes. Is everything okay?” you pouted slightly.

Bucky cursed under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear it right beside him. You watched as he stalked back to the front of the class, quickly bringing everyone to attention. He still wore a gentle pink blush, one that you would forever take pride in causing. Teasing Bucky may well be one of your favourite ways to pass time in class.

It didn’t take long to work out that Bucky was doing everything possible to make the next 2 hours of your life as frustrating as possible. He knew you well enough to know what would make you tick, what would rile you up to the point of outburst or get you so hot under the collar that you couldn’t sit still. And he was pulling out every trick in his book.

His shirt sleeves were quickly unbuttoned and rolled up, exposing the mass of strong forearms. He subtly popped the top button of his shirt, knowing that no one but you would even take a hint of notice. He’d ignore your raised hand time after time, until he didn’t.

“Good girl,” he commented before swiftly moving on to the next question.

He’d perch himself on the side of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded over his chest. It made his biceps bulge, straining the already taut material of his white dress shirt. Every little move or ministration he made was made with you in mind. Made to tease you, to frustrate you, to turn you on.

“Someone’s in for an exciting night,” Wanda hummed quietly as she packed away her things at the end of class. You didn’t give her a response, only an exasperated glare that she saw straight through. She only gave you a loud, mischievous cackle before looping her arm through yours and dragging you towards the door.

“Miss Maximoff,” Bucky said. “I’m afraid I need a moment of her time,” eyes darting to you.

“Oh, of course!” Wanda chirped happily. “See you tomorrow, Professor Barnes,” she smiled, before turning and leaving the room as quickly as she could.

You stayed rooted to your spot as Bucky walked over to the door and flicked the lock, turning the blinds closed. He came back over slowly, slotting himself back onto the side of his desk, right in front of you. “C’mere,” he whispered, holding a hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation, stepping forward into the gap between his and leaning into the arm that came around your waist and up your back. “I’ve missed you,” Bucky hummed into your neck, words reverberating across your skin.

“I’ve missed you more,” you argued into his hair, eyes slipping shut at the familiar scent of his shampoo. He held you close to his body for a short while because as much as you both lived for the teasing and the way it escalated into pure ecstasy between you, Bucky was still your happy place.

He was where you went on a cold night when the masses of blankets just weren’t keeping the chill off of your bones. Where you went when a nightmare struck and you needed to feel safe and loved and protected. He was the first person to know anything, whether it be something ecstatic or heartbreaking or down right menial. Bucky was your happy and your sad, your beginning and your end.

“You were quite the tease today,” he whispered into your skin.

“Says you,” you retorted, pulling back slightly.

“Well, you started it,” he countered, just as childish as ever underneath his stern-history-professor exterior that he wore so well.

“What are you going to do about it… Sir?” you asked, voice so close to his ear that he could feel your breath rolling off of his skin.

Bucky dropped your hand, taking his now free hand and tracing over the back of your thigh gently. Hard enough that it didn’t tickle, soft enough to leave goosebumps in its wake. His fingers trailed between your legs, to the apex of your thighs before dropping back down and circling around.

“I don’t know,” he hummed. “What do you suggest, doll?,” he asked huskily. The nickname and his tone of voice sent sparks careening to your core, begging you to seek out his touch wherever you could get it.

You leaned into him a little more, hand anchoring onto his shoulder for support as your head dropped down with a silent moan. “That’s up to you, sir,” you told him politely.

“Hm, I suppose it is, isn’t it?” he said cockily. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, Princess.”

“Someone’s quite needy, aren’t they?” James teased as you arched up off of his bed, begging for his touch. “You look so beautiful like this,” he mused, “all laid out for me.”

“Please, Bucky,” you whimpered, skin burning where his fingers and lips trailed. “Please,” you begged.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” he trailed off, a smirk growing on his face.

One hand slipped between your legs, fingers grazing along goosepimpled skin. “So wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you yet,” he mused. “Good girl,” he whispered.

A single finger slipped through your folds, running upwards to collect the wetness gathering there. You couldn't help the moan that slipped out from between your lips when Bucky brought the finger to his mouth, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste of you.

His fingers quickly returned to their previous spot, teasing the skin for a short moment before slipping two fingers straight inside. You keened, arching impossibly high at the sudden intrusion before falling flat again. “Please,” you whispered, knowing Bucky knew exactly what you were begging for. “I need you,” you clarified for him.

“Just give me one, sweet girl,” he bargained. “You know how much I love to watch you fall apart on my fingers,” Bucky teased.

He pumped his fingers quickly, the force of it jolting through your whole body. His thumb soon joined, finding your clit in a fraction of a second and setting a gruelling pace against the bundle of nerves. It wasn’t long before a soft mantra of moans and pleas were leaving your mouth, begging Bucky not to stop.

“There’s my good girl, show me how loud you can be,” he instructed from above you. “Let me hear you,” he said before dipping his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. That was all it took, the extra little bit of stimulation sent to careening over the edge, crashing through your first orgasm and leaving you breathless on the other side.

“Okay, doll?” Bucky asked as the haze clouding your vision seemed to shift. You responded only with a dozy smile and a nod. Bucky immediately started manhandling you back into a better position on the bed, ready to slot himself over you and pull more sinful noises from your mouth.

“Wait,” you whispered, clambering up and slipping off the bed. You knelt down on the hardwood floor, mouth open. “Please.”

You heard James swear before hastily pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs. As soon as it was presented in front of you, you couldn't resist. You were well used to the once daunting length of what James brought to the table, so well versed in taking him into your mouth that you hit the base on your second bob down.

“So good, Princess,” he praised, the words shooting straight to your core. “My best girl,” he moaned, slipping a hand through your hair and gripping tight. His words and his grip caused another fresh wave of heat to surge down your body and settle in the wetness between your legs.

You pulled all the way back, only the head left in your mouth as you rolled your tongue over it, ducking into the slit and pulling whatever noises you could from James. He practically choked when you took him straight into your throat again, hips stuttering against your face forcing him ever deeper into your mouth.

“Up, baby,” he gasped. “Wanna see you”.

Bucky’s hands around your hips guided you over his lap where he was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He lifted you slightly and lowered you down slowly onto his cock. Bucky let out a sharp hiss as you sunk down, drowned out by the moan that you gasped out into his shoulder.

“Let me hear you, doll,” he whispered into your ear before taking your chin in his hand and holding you still for a kiss. Whilst you were still wrapped up in his kiss and the way his tongue danced around yours, Bucky thrusted up slightly.

And then again.

Bucky was thrusting into you as he pulled your hips down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping filled his bedroom, only spoken over by the moans that weren’t swallowed by kisses. Your hands were gripping onto his shoulders so tight that you were sure you’d leave bruises.

“Please, James,” you begged, anchoring a hand in his hair and letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. “Need more,” you gasped into his skin.

Not a moment later, Bucky had flipped your positions and was hovering over you. “What do you want, baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.

“You,” you whined, voice high in your throat. Without warning, Bucky slammed back into you, knocking you an inch up the bed with the force of his thrust. The sound you let out was borderline pornogrpahic, high pitched and needy and begging Bucky without even using your words.

Your fingers raked down his back, settling over the base of his spine. Your legs were hooked up around his hips, your face tucked into his neck. “So close, please,” you babbled into his ear, words almost incoherent.

“I’ve got you, Princess”, he promised. One hand came between you, thumb finding your clit again in next to no time. “Let go”, Bucky whispered into your neck before nipping the skin between his teeth. It only took a few messy circles around the swollen bundle of nerves before you were flying over the edge once again, dazed and dizzy as a second orgasm washed over you.

Bucky came with a grunt and a moan as you tightened around him, milking him with each extra thrust. He rolled off of you, laying down next to you with a heavy sigh. When you looked at him, he was already staring back at you, a cheeky grin reaching his eyes.

“What?” you asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Think you can give me one more?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Bucky didn’t even wait for an answer before he was dragging you into the position he wanted you in; head cushioned on the plush pillows at the top of the bed, legs bent and spread wide for him. “So beautiful,” he whispered into the skin of your calf.

“No teasing,” you whispered, already exhausted. “Please,” you begged. Your core was already pooling, something about Bucky not being afraid to throw you around into the position he wanted you to be in was always a turn on. Plus the way he looked up at you through his dark lashes from the bottom of the bed, like he was ready for you to be his last meal… How could you not.

He licked up your leg, peppering soft kisses amongst your inner thigh. The closer he got, the more his teeth got involved. By the time he reached where you wanted him most, he was sucking marks into your skin that you knew would last a few days.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers reaching to run through Bucky’s hair. “Won’t last long,” you warned him.

“I know, baby,” he assured you, voice soft and sweet and caring. Gone was teasing Bucky who wanted to rile you up and make you beg for him. “All about you,” he promised.

The first few tongue strokes completely missed your clit, leaving you arching into his face for more, for anything. From then, it was an all out assault. He left nothing behind, every single thing Bucky knew about pleasuring you was put into your final orgasm. And he knew a lot.

His hands came up over your hips, pressing you down so you couldn’t arch up, but it put the most beautiful pressure on you from the outsides. Bucky was everywhere. His fingers had snuck up and into you, curling and pressing as he beckoned your orgasm forwards. He was there like it was the last thing he would ever do, like it was the sole reason he was put on this earth.

Your thighs squeezed around his head and you could feel the cocky smirk against your folds. Your fingers raked against his scalp, pulling his hair for all it was worth as you felt the knots build and tighten and twist and turn. “God, Buck, please,” you whined. “Please,” you chanted over and over. “So close”, you keened.

Your thighs tightened as Bucky sped up. He could practically taste how close you were. One more tight suck to the abused nerves between your legs and you were gone. Your hips arched up off the bed as he released them, moans tumbling from your mouth as Bucky licked and sucked you through your most powerful orgasm of the night.

“How was that, Princess?” Bucky asked, propping his head lazily on your thigh.

The sight before you was obscene. Your juices painted his beard and the lower half of his face, your thighs were red raw with beard burn. “Perfect,” you sighed, breathless.

You went to sleep that night safe in James’ arms, body spent and completely wrecked.

“You look happy,” Wanda teased as you walked into class the next morning. “Nice scarf,” she smirked, fingers quick to shift the fabric and expose the blossoming marks that James had left the night before. “Jesus, is our history professor a vampire?” she hissed, poking at the skin.

“Leave it,” you muttered, urging her forward to her seat.

You sat there, pen between your teeth as you looked at Bucky through hooded eyes. He looked straight back at you, phone long forgotten in his hands until it vibrated with a new message. His eyes met yours once again, winking, before rounding his desk to put his phone into the draw, reading the message once more before sliding it shut.

I can still feel you. I miss you, James.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes

[nanasparadise]

“Your musketeer in a blue tunic” Yan! Polnareff x female reader (musketeer AU)

Hiya everyone! As promised, here is a Yan! Polnareff writing, since he was in the top four of the poll for the special but hasn’t reached the top three. I thought it might be a fun idea to make him a musketeer and now I’ve realised this fic turned out to be low-key a Belle and Gaston situation from Beauty and the Beast lmao. Anyway, there might be historical inaccuracies in the story, I’m sorry for that.

Summary: You’re a farmer woman in 18th century France and a certain musketeer keeps crossing paths with you…

TW: toxic relationship, noncon kiss, low-key harassment, forced marriage, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 3900

“Just about half an hour and I’ll be there”, you mumble to yourself. 

The pouring rain drenches your whole form, an icy cold having already nested deep in your bones. But you can’t stop now, even if it’s raining cats and dogs. You know you have to arrive to the main market place, which is located a good three hours from the farm you live in. If the wool – which you hope isn’t too wet, knowing the burlap bags aren’t protecting it well from the rain – won’t be sold today, you don’t know how you could afford some bread for your family. You think of your little siblings, how they always stare at you with big eyes, expecting at least some crumbs of stale bread in order to satiate their hunger a bit. Your heart aches painfully at that mental image. No, you’re going to sell the wool at all cost, no matter if it means you get sick due to the weather. You owe it to your loved ones, needing to protect and provide for them as the oldest sibling. 

A chilly wind blows intensely into your face, making you shiver even more. Lucky for you, no other person is currently on the road, meaning you’re in safety. You’re aware about how many sketchy men lurk in these streets by the countryside, just waiting for a young woman like yourself to pass by and to do God knows what with her. As a protection measure, you always carry a knife with you, hidden in your boot. Fortunately, you haven’t needed to use it, yet…

Suddenly, you hear the footsteps of a horse approaching you, the characteristic sounds of its hooves drawing closer to you. Your first instinct is to immediately pull out your knife, but you refrain yourself. 

“It’s probably just another merchant who wants to go to the market, too”, you think, comforting yourself. And even if that shouldn’t be the case, it would be wiser to take your possible aggressor by surprise with an attack if needed. 

The steps are now dangerously close to you, too close for your liking, until they come to a halt. Surprised, you stop your walking as well and look up to the person on the horse. Next to you on his steed is a man around your age, probably a few years older, with peculiar silver hair and bright blue eyes. Through his uniform, consisting of a characteristic blue tunic with a white cross on it, you immediately recognise the stranger as a King’s musketeer. You hastily curtsy and meekly avert your gaze, given that he’s of a higher social rank. Why would a musketeer want from you, a farmer? 

“Good day, Monsieur”, you greet the musketeer politely. 

“Good day, Mademoiselle”, the stranger answers jovially. “Please forgive my intervention, but what does a young lady like you travel alone on such a dangerous road?”, he asks you, sincere concern marking his voice. 

Why would he care? And why would he refer to you as a lady when you’re clearly just a commoner? You get the sudden urge to grab your knife again, but of course your rational brain side hinders you from doing so.

“I’m only going to the market place, good sir. I’d like to sell some wool”, you explain shortly, your eyes still not meeting the stranger’s. 

“All alone?”, the Frenchman wonders. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice, Monsieur. My father has to work on the farm and my mother looks after my younger siblings”, you reply truthfully. Honestly, you’d prefer not giving too much information away to the stranger, but lying doesn’t seem like a safe option either. 

“I see, Mademoiselle,” the musketeer utters politely, “in that case, I’d be pleased to escort you to the market place. After all, my heart couldn’t handle if something happened to a damsel.” 

“Thank you for your generous offer, Monsieur”, you answer civilly, curtsying gracefully again. Though internally, you sigh and roll your eyes at the Frenchman’s words. 

“More like his ego couldn’t handle getting rejected by a common woman”, you ponder cynically. You’re about to continue your walking as the stranger stops your action abruptly. 

“Wait a moment, Mademoiselle,” he shouted hastily, “I’ll take your bags and settle them on my horse.” The silver-haired man dismounts from his white horse and takes the bags filled with wool from your hands, placing and tying them on the animal’s back. 

“You are far too kind, Monsieur”, you say with an overly sweet voice. Lucky for you, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm hidden in your tone. Instead, he smiles brightly at you, revealing a row of impeccable white teeth. 

“As a musketeer, it’s my duty to help a lady in need”, he boasts proudly. Again, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Ah, how rude of me, Mademoiselle, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” 

“Y/N L/N”, you reply meekly. 

“What a lovely name, Milady.”

~

The pair of you have been walking silently side by side for a while. You simply wish to arrive as fast as possible to the market place, wanting to get rid of Polnareff’s present. After some time, the stormy weather has changed into a brighter, more pleasant sky. Though some sun rays peek through the clouds, the cold from the previous rain remains. Upon seeing your slightly quivering form, Polnareff offers you a blanket he has in his supplies with him. Politely, you decline his offer. You certainly don’t want to be more in the debt of such a high ranking man. 

“I apologise if this may come across as rude, Mademoiselle Y/N, but I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t a ring on your finger”, the musketeer suddenly mentions. The hairs on your arms stand up at his observation and you instinctively straighten your back. If Polnareff has seen your discomfort, he still chooses to continue speaking. “And you’ve said previously you’re living with your family on a farm. How come such a fair maiden like you isn’t married yet? I reckon you must have many suitors.” Something about his tone and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes sets you on edge. 

“Oh, I do have had some suitors in the past,” you answer truthfully, but cautiously, “but I’ve chosen to not marry. My family needs me and I don’t wish to let them down.” Polnareff gives you a tender glance, the prying shimmer being replaced with sympathy now. 

“Maybe you’ll soon find a wealthy man who’s able to help your family out”, he mumbles softly, though you still could hear his words. 

“I’d rather not base my life on such an improbable dream. After all, I’m just a common farmer,” you say, slightly amused. “He doesn’t have a clue how life’s for a commoner, does he?” 

“So you’d like to marry? It’s your dream, didn’t you say that, Mademoiselle?”, Polnareff counters, hope swinging in his voice. Why is he hopeful? But you decide to not voice this thought. 

“Well, that’s quite a difficult question, Monsieur Polnareff,” you retort,  feeling unsure now “it would be the wisest choice for me to marry, but at the moment, I feel content to take care of my family.” For some reason, the musketeer’s face falls at your last sentence. Disappointment takes over it instead, his lips turning into a bitter, thin line. 

“Ah, I see”, he replies wearily. You immediately notice the change of atmosphere, though you don’t comment on it. Instead, you two continue strolling in silence.

Eventually, the pair of you arrive at the market place. During your travel, none of you spoke further, the mood being too tense and awkward. You settle your burlap bags on the floor on a free spot after the silver-haired man has removed them from his horse for you. 

“My sincerest thanks, Monsieur Polnareff.” You bow politely. Even though your eyes have been trained on the floor for only a matter of seconds, some stealthy thief has been able to snatch one of your bags. Immediately, your head leaps up. 

“Hey, this belongs to me! Give it back!”, you scream angrily. You wouldn’t let some trickster take your wool, not after working so hard for your family! You’re ready to run after the knave, but a hand on your forearm hinders you from doing so. 

“Let me handle this, Mademoiselle Y/N,” Polnareff says confidently, “you’ll have your merchandise back in no time. Just wait for me here.” Quickly, the musketeer dashes into an alleyway after the thief. Confused, you’re left alone at the market place, the man’s horse being your only companion. A sigh rolls off your lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to do what he says if I ever want that wool back”, you exclaim exasperatedly. This is the last thing you’ve needed today. First, you’ve been drenched by the rain, then a weird musketeer has started following you and asking you eerily invasive question and now your precious goods have been stolen. In the meantime, you try your best to sell the remaining wool.

After half an hour, you still haven’t sold any wool at all. Though you were definitely drawing attention on you by shouting out some offers, no one has seemed to be interested yet. No one even cared enough to look towards your direction. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stay all day, then”, you think gloomily. From the corner of your eyes, you notice an all too familiar form approaching you, though this time with a bag in his hand. 

“Mademoiselle Y/N!”, Polnareff shouts excitedly, “I’ve retrieved your bag from the thief!” A sincere expression of gratitude appears on your face. Yes, the man is more than annoying to you with his clingy behaviour, but at least he was chasing the trickster for you! 

“Thank you so much, Monsieur Polnareff!”, you exclaim happily, relieved to have your wool back. Now there’s only the matter of selling it left… 

“Of course, nothing to thank for, Mademoiselle! I’d never want to see such a charming lady like you in need.” 

Purposefully, you ignore his statement, an awkward feeling bubbling up in you. Instead you’re thanking him again. All the while, the Frenchman keeps staring at you with a look of fondness, a huge and proud smile adorning his face. In his mind, he’s just proven to you how capable he is of taking care of you and your family. How could you refuse him now? He’s literally your knight in shining armour! Or your musketeer in a blue tunic. It doesn’t matter, he’s practically your hero! 

Polnareff’s grin only widens at the thought of you swooning over him. The silver-haired man doesn’t know why he feels like this towards you. Maybe it’s because you just looked so pitiful when he saw you on that road, soaking wet from the rain. Maybe it’s his pride that doesn’t let him relent. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparked with determination and love when you talked about your family. Maybe it’s your radiant atmosphere, which draws him in like a moth. Maybe you’re secretly a witch who put a love spell on his poor self, making him a fool for you after having only met you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  

Polnareff quickly stops his pondering. “It’s not of importance,” he muses, “as long as she’ll realise I’m the best choice for her.”

“I see you haven’t sold any of your goods yet”, the musketeer says, trying to sound casually. Though in his thoughts, he already has a plan schemed. 

“No, unfortunately not,” you reply, an exasperated sigh following swiftly, “but there’s still some time left until I have to return home. Surely, I’ll be able to sell some.” 

“You know, Mademoiselle Y/N, I’d rather not see you standing here all day, maybe even for it to be in vain,” Polnareff utters, concerning coating his voice, “let me help you, I’ll buy the wool.” Your eyes grow big at his proposition. Even though it’s more than a generous offer, especially after all he’s been through for you today, you can’t help but feeling alerted. Why would he go all these lengths for you? He can’t be that kind, there must be something he wants in return. 

“You’re far too generous, Monsieur Polnareff. I can’t accept such an offer”, you tell the musketeer, hoping he’ll actually drop his suggestion. But the Frenchman remains stubborn as a mule. 

“Ah ah Mademoiselle,” he tuts you condescendingly, “I’m a man of my word. How much would you like? Are two livres enough?”

Your eyes widen so much at his offer, you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyeballs fell out. Two livres? Is that man insane? The wool is hardly five sous worth! 

“I think you must have meant two sous, Monsieur Polnareff,” you answer him, still shocked. 

“Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. Two livres is what I said and what I meant. Or would you maybe want more?” 

Vehemently, you shake your head. Two livres… That would feed your family for at least three months! “No Y/N, you can’t take this offer!” Your thoughts interrupt you suddenly. Not only does your conscience forbid you from doing so, your parents would also wonder where all that money comes from. They might assume you’ve stolen it as no one would believe a stranger to be so kind to just give a random farmer way too much money. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you try again to change his mind, “I really don’t think you should-“ 

“Ah, there’s my pouch!”, the silver-haired man exclaims happily, ignoring your previous words. Eagerly, he takes two shiny coins out of it, pressing them in your palm. Admitting your defeat, you curtsy and express your deep gratitude again. Though a small part inside you does enjoy the fact of getting provided for.

After your exchange, Polnareff insisted on bringing you home again. You dislike the idea of him knowing exactly where you live, but that man’s stubbornness and pride is bigger than the Palace of Versailles. Which is why the two of you are walking back to your farm, the wool resting on Polnareff’s horse’s back. 

“What are you doing with all the wool, if I may ask?”, you say with a questioning look on your face, “Surely, a musketeer doesn’t need to fabricate his own clothes.” The Frenchman rubs sheepishly behind his neck and offers you a smile. 

“Ah Mademoiselle, you see, I might just donate it. I’ve just wanted to help you out, I don’t need it myself.” Even though you still cannot bring yourself to trust him, your heart warms at his statement. 

“That’s indeed very noble of you, Monsieur Polnareff”, you reply candidly. The musketeer sends you another bright grin, a subtle blush forming on his pale cheeks.

The sun has begun to set as the two of you arrive on the farm. With a polite curtsy, you’re ready to finally return home, excited to tell your family the good news regarding the money. But Polnareff stops your goodbye. His hand finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. 

“Before we must depart, Mademoiselle Y/N,” he counters hastily, “I’d like to be assured that we’ll meet again soon. I find myself enthralled by your presence.” 

Your heart beats faster at his proposition. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous situation you’re in, the big hand capturing your smaller wrist. Could you really deny him without facing consequences? Thoughts like these rush through your head as the man in front of you keeps waiting for your reaction. Still, you’re going to try. If something should happen, you still have your knife with you and your father would surely rush out once he hears your screams. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you start hesitantly, “I’m deeply flattered by your words. You are truly an admirable and honourable man whose kind actions shall always carry my most sincere gratitude. Though I must admit, I don’t think it would be a wise idea to meet again.” The Frenchman makes a crestfallen face at your words. You feel almost bad for him. “Ah, I think I should explain myself further. Well, Monsieur Polnareff, we are of two different social classes, continuing mingling with me would put a bad reputation on you. I cannot offer you something of interest. Plus, I like staying with my family so far, this is my home.” 

“Y/N”, Polnareff whispers affectionately, his thumb rubbing softly on the inside of your wrist. You shoot him a surprised look, confused by him dropping the formal title. If anyone would have heard this, they’d turn it into a scandal. 

“I know my offer might appear strange to you, but I wish to marry out of love one day. I’m aware it’s fairly uncommon and even looked upon with scorn to marry below someone’s station, but the matters of the heart outshine the matters of the mind in my case. I have more than enough money, a comfortable estate and an honourable title. So you’re correct by saying you can’t offer me anything. Though you forgot one important thing, dear Y/N: you can offer me companionship, love, a meaningful bond between two souls.” Upon his last sentence, Polnareff tenderly grabs both of your hands in his, admiring how they seem to fit perfectly. Too astounded by his words, you let the man do as he pleases. Quickly, Polnareff catches on with his speech. “Please Y/N, let me see you again. Let me court you properly. I can give you and your family a beautiful life, a life you deserve.” The silver-haired male’s form moves now closer to yours, his blue eyes fixated on your lips. This action breaks you from the spell you’ve been caught in previously as you abruptly rip your hands off his grip and step back. 

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Polnareff,” you manage to say, your voice sounding breathless from the adrenaline rushing in your veins, “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. I do not wish to disappoint you further, that’s why I’m being direct with you. I’m going home now, please do not seek out for me. Have a good evening, Monsieur Polnareff.” You give him one last glance, noting his furious facial expression, before you eventually walk rapidly the path up to your family’s farm. 

“I’ll be coming back, Mademoiselle Y/N!”, you hear the musketeer shouting behind you, “I’m not giving up that easily!” His sentences only make you pick up your pace as fear makes itself present in your body. Why couldn’t he just respect your choice? You’re sure there are enough suitable ladies in his rank pining for him, so why would he bother you? Finally, to your happiness, you arrive at the front door. Quickly, you enter your home, locking the door from the inside. Still, it feels as if a pair of blue eyes continues burning holes in your back…

The following month had been both positive and negative. Positive, because your family didn’t need to worry about food thanks to the two livres Polnareff gave you. Negative, because the latter had been true to his word and kept showing up at your place. Every time you told him you won’t change your mind, the musketeer only seemed to be more encouraged to prove you otherwise. 

Today isn’t any different. As you make your way to the market to buy some food, you hear the familiar hooves approaching you. Annoyed, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Bonjour Y/N! What a pleasant day to see you again, mon amour!”, Polnareff exclaims happily while he dismounts from his horse to walk next to you. 

“Bonjour Polnareff”, you reply politely. In the meantime, you’ve dropped the titles when you two were alone, not seeing the point of them anymore. Plus, the Frenchman even decides to call you pet names, so why showing him respect? 

“Ah, ma puce, no need to be so cold today! After all, I bring some splendid news”, the Frenchman replies excitedly. You eye him suspiciously, brows knitted together. What on earth is he planning now?  

“And that would be?”, you answer matter-of-factly. “You’re finally leaving me alone?” 

“You see, before I came to meet you, I’ve finally talked with your parents.” At these words, you immediately stop your steps. A feeling of dread emerges in your stomach, making you feel sick. 

“Oh no,” you think desperately, “this can’t be good.” 

“Very lovely people, indeed. It hurts my feelings knowing you haven’t invited me to them, mon cœur”, Polnareff continues his talk, a hand put on his chest in mock concern. 

“And why should I have done such thing?”, you reply coolly, though internally you’re freaking out. You already know you won’t like the answer… 

“My dearest, how come you act so cruel? Don’t you think your future husband should see your parents? After all, we’re betrothed now!” 

“No”, you retort without thinking. Your palms grow sweaty, a deep fear manifesting in your body. The silver-haired man smirks at your reaction. 

“Non? I think your parents disagree with you, ma chérie. In fact, we’ve already picked out a date for the ceremony. Can you believe it? In two months, we’ll be finally one.” Panic overflows your mind, your breathing becoming laboured. How could your parents decide on such a matter behind your bag? After everything you’ve done for your family? Polnareff notices your stress as he softly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest. The musketeer tries to comfort you by shushing you and gently brushing over your back, though his actions only fuel your terror. You squirm in his grasp, trying to escape him, escape this situation, but his grip on you only strengthens. 

“Let me go!”, you scream all while tears stream down your cheeks, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“My little Y/N,” Polnareff mumbles calmly, “if you hadn’t  been so stubborn, we could have discussed the wedding plans together. I know you think our union is not favourable, but if even your family agrees to it, it surely can’t be that wrong, hm? You’re so blinded by your little provincial life that you can’t see what’s best for you. And trust me, my dove, I’m the best choice.” The Frenchman grabs your chin, staring lovingly in your by now puffy eyes. “It’s fine if you need some time to realise that. As long as you remain by my side.” With these words, the silver-haired man puts his mouth on yours, his hand now wandering to your cheek. You wriggle harder in his grasp, though your attempts to escape remain futile. Tenderly, Polnareff caresses your face as his lips finally leave yours. 

“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur, mon ange*”, he whispers adoringly, pressing your face against his chest again. Your tears smudge the blue fabric of his tunic, your voice hoarse from screaming. And even though you wish this is but a nightmare, you start comprehending you’re truly trapped in Polnareff’s oh so loving arms for the rest of your life.

*former French currency. 2 livres are about 30 euros, which was a lot of money back then

*former French currency. 5 sous are about 3,70 euros, which was still quite some money back in the day

*”I love you with all my heart, my angel”

#JJBA #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #yandere jojo #yandere jjba #yandere x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere polnareff #yandere polnareff x reader #minors dni #tw: yandere #tw: arranged marriage #tw: noncon touching

[ficsnroses]

Worried - John Wick x Reader Oneshot

From the Comfort Series of Fluffy Oneshots :)

Word Count : 3.5k

Warnings : So Much Fluff. Angst. Brief hospitalization (nothing serious!) Also, will I ever come up with a creative title?

Summary : On his way to pick up his girlfriend, Y/N, for an evening out, John receives a call from the hospital.

A/N : Alright. I’m nervous about this one because it didn’t quite turn out the way I wanted, but I worked really hard on it & would love to hear what you all think  ❤️ This was requested by @cynic-spirit​ , I hope its alright! I’m not 100% happy with how I approached this request, so I may re write something similar in the future to toy with the concept more. Enjoy!

*Also, I included date outfit pictures at the end, because it’s a fun thing to do, right? It’s cute!*

Spring is near, and the longer evenings are here to prove it. The sun has bid goodbye, leaving a violet hue channeling the sky outside John’s bathroom window. The trees stand in black silhouettes, the smell of apple trees blossoming filters in subtle.

Dog sits at the doorframe, with his paws tucked secure under his resting head, watching John dry his hair with a cotton towel. His chest and torso are peppered with aqua globes, skin still steaming lightly as he’s stepped out the shower. With a towel held around his waist, he grasps Y/N’s favourite cologne of his – a sophisticated blend of spice & wood. He dabs some around his neck, collarbones, and wrists, setting it down for an exchange with a hairbrush.

The sound of his phone vibrating diverts his gaze, to the picture of his love reflecting on his phone screen.

Y/N was facetiming. 

Tonight, John was taking her to a nice dinner date at a restaurant by the water. Sure, they’d technically seen each other every night that week, but they hadn’t been able to go out together in a while.

John loved to treat his lady.

Picking his phone up, he accepts the call, holding the camera to his face.

“Hi baby,” he greets her, eyes lighting up, with those beautiful laugh lines crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

“Ooo hello handsome,” She giggles, eyeing his clothing clad, bare chest. “Quick question, are we going somewhere really nice?”

Her beautiful locks shine under the lights, her makeup looks seamless, light, just enough to compliment her elegantly stunning features. John’s heart must have skipped a beat, he still found it hard to believe that this wonderful, amazing women, was all his.

His for the keeping.

John chuckles a bit, running a hand through his fluffy locks. “It’s not formal, but it’s a nice little place. Why?”

“I’m not sure what to wear.” She flips her camera, showing him the array of dresses she’s laid out, a navy blue, a black, and white. “Help me decide!”

John smiles, letting out a content sigh. He let out a lot of those recently, ever since she’d came into his life, made it brighter than what he’d been used to. 

“You look beautiful in anything, sweetheart.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, whining. 

“John! Can you not be a softie for just one second and help me out?” She sits down on the bed, holding the camera to her face. “Come on, which one do you wanna see me in?”

John lightly scratches his chin, voice deep. “Well, I think you look amazing in white. Makes me go weak in my knees.” He chuckles, giving her a warm smile. 

John didn’t know if it was too early, regardless, he’d dream of the day his Y/N would wear a white dress for him, in front of all their family and friends, as he waited for her at the end of the isle.

Someday. Whenever that someday may be.

“Do you want to stay over tonight? Dog misses you.” John proposes, grabbing his beard trimmer.

Y/N snickers, grabbing the white dress on the hanger. “Sure. I miss Dog too. Besides, I like falling asleep beside you way better than here, on my own.” She holds the phone steady in front of her face again. “You’re like, the fluffiest pillow I have.” She giggles again.

John watches her in awe, as always. The way her eyes glimmer when she speaks, the way her tone shifts, highlighting the happiness in her voice. Each word, from her mouth, felt as if a song to him.

His favourite song.

“Glad to be of service.” He winks, letting out a laugh. “Are you almost ready, babe?” He questions, retrieving his hair dryer from the cabinet drawer.

“Yeah, I just need to throw on outfit, and pack a bag for tonight.” She replies, shuffling around her room.

“Aren’t most of your things here already?” John chuckles. “It looks like you own this counter space, not me.” John flips the camera to showcase all her creams and moisturizers, her scented perfumes and skin care routine gadgets. She’d been spending a whole lot of nights at John’s place, leaving her belongings nicely peppered around his bedroom.

“You’re right. I’ll just sleep in one of your shirts.” She bites her lip, looking him in the eyes. “Or maybe, I won’t need one tonight…” Smirking, the tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon?” She confirms.

John nods his head, replying. “I’ll be right over in an hour. I love you, sweetheart. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t. I love you too. Bye.” She blows him a quick kiss, ending the call.

Grinning to himself, John blushes at the though of her still, returning to his closet to throw on his outfit for the evening. As each second passes, he anticipates seeing his love soon, being embellished in her company and grace all evening.

Exactly where he loved to be.

-

With his cellphone propped on the seat beside him, John navigates through the busy New York evening traffic, checking his reflection in the rear view mirror every so often. He runs his fingers through his hair, positioning it just how Y/N liked it.

Before Y/N, John never tried too much to look good. He didn’t care if his hair got lengthier than normal, or if his beard had a few strays in it. But ever since he’d met her, fallen in love with her, he cared. He cared for himself more, tried his best to stay healthy, and presentable.

For her. Because she deserved, to get the best version of him.

She deserved for him to be his best self.

As John drives in silence, his ears pick up the occasional traffic honk, or speeding car beside him. Night has fallen on the city, leaving it to light up brighter than the stars, glowing, glimmering lamp posts and restaurant lights igniting the city streets. He sees couples walk arm in arm, holding hands as they explore the town.

To himself, he smiles.

Smiles, that he had that, finally, for himself. He finally had someone.

To the ring of his cellphone, John snaps out of his thoughts.

An unknown number.

His brows knit in confusion, wondering who it could be. He thinks to ignore it, however, decides against it ultimately, in case it was someone from work.

With his eyes locked on the road, John manages to slide the phone onto speaker, letting wonder lace his tone. “Hello?”

“Hello, sir. Am I speaking with Mr. Jonathan Wick?” A woman speaks on the other end, her voice calm, present, monotone as could be.

“Yes, can I help you?” His deep, ridged voice starts.

“I’m calling on behalf of New York General Hospital. I have you listed as a secondary contact for a recently admitted patient, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?”

In that moment, John felt his heart drop. His eyes widen, and the world around him seems to stop turning. The traffic seems to pause, the city folk seem to cease walking, the stars seem to melt into the darkness above.

The darkness above, seems to swallow John whole.

With his mind terminating to work straight, his heavy, racing voice speaks. “Y/N? Is she alright?! What happened?! I just spoke with her not too long ago, please tell me she’s okay?!” John almost yells, fear overtaking each nerve in his body.

“Mr. Wick, we need you in urgently for an update on her condition, and form work.”

“I’ll be there, I’m coming, I’m coming!” John shouts, breathing heavier by the second. He feels his body run cold, his mind racing a million a second. “Is she okay? Please, Ms., I need to know.” John begs, foot trudging the accelerator to sprint through traffic.

“She’s going to be alright. Unfortunately sir, I can’t disclose anymore information over the phone, for confidentiality.”

John ends the call in fury, throwing the phone across the seat. “Dammnit!” He hollers, to no one but himself.

In a long time, he hadn’t felt this way. He hadn’t felt a single negative emotion, since she’d came into his life. But now, in this moment, he felt, a mixture of everything he hadn’t felt in a while. But most of all,

He felt fear.

He felt fear, for the thought of anything happening to her. Anger, for not being there fast enough. Fright, for not knowing if she was okay.

Guilt. For not protecting her, as he’d promised himself he would, from the second she gave her heart to him.

-

His body is tense, his fist clenches beside him, his feet only route the path so quick, leaving his mind paces ahead.

He needed his Y/N to be okay. It couldn’t be any other way.

He wouldn’t let it.

As he finds himself at the door of 116, the room the receptionist had claimed to be Y/N’s, John swings the door open.

There Y/N sits, on a chair, with a band aid on her arm, and a juice box propped on the chair beside her.

She looks alright. John makes note, to thank the sky later.

The nurse has just finished her work beside her, greeting John with a warm smile. 

“Hi! You must be John. I’m Y/N’s nurse for this evening.” She extends her arm out, for John to shake. “She is perfect, nothing to worry about. Her iron had dropped very low causing a minor fainting episode, but her neighbour called just in time. I’ve given her a stabilizing injection for now, which should restore all her red blood cells over the course of the next few days. She’s all good to go, and ready to be discharged immediately.” The nurse smiles, walking out of the room, leaving them alone.

John looks to her, worry still shone in his eyes, looking her up and down. His mind seems to stay skeptical, unable to believe that she was actually alright. 

That what he loved, hadn’t been taken away from him this time.

“John, I’m so sorry.” She frowns. “I’m all okay. See?” She proposes.

John stares at her for a few seconds longer, before walking up to her, dropping to his knees. He kneels in front of her, both his hands coming forward to hold both of hers tight in a clasp, pressing kisses all over her palms, her knuckles, her wrists. He lets out a weary exhale, resting his forehead against their connected hands for a few moments.

“John, you seem shaken up. I’m so sorry, I forgot to take my medicine this morning. I swear it’s really nothing big though, I’m alright. I’m sorry, I should have-”

John cuts her off, with a shake of his head. “It’s okay.” He stands, subsequently helping her up, placing a hand on the small of her back as he holds her other hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

John holds her hand tight, fearing she’d vanish any second. He guides her, holding the door open, keeping her tucked secure with his arm wrapped fitted around her smaller frame.

-

As the forms of release had been taken care of by John, he guides Y/N to his car, hand never leaving hers, with his arm still placed on the small of her back. He holds her close to him, making sure to never let her out of sight. As they arrive to the car door, he holds it open for her, helping her get settled in. Neither of them have spoke a word the entire way down.

As she sets herself in, John leans down to plug her seat belt in across her. “John, it’s alright. I can do it.” She assures, placing a hand on his arm.

Crouching down beside her again, John looks up at her, sadness still littered in his eyes. With a calm tone, John reasons, grabbing hold of her hand again. “Please.” He sighs. “Let me do this for you.”

Shutting the passenger door for her, John walks over to his side, taking place. He places his hands on the steering wheel for a moment, staring at the view ahead. Y/N watches him, worry in her own eyes. John seemed incredibly shaken, uneasy still. She feels horrible, and a heaviness overtakes the feel in her chest.

Reaching over to place a hand over his, she sighs, breaking the silence. 

“John, baby, I’m really sorry. I should have been more careful, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our night, I know you had an evening planned, reservations and all. But I promise, its nothing. I’m really alright.” She smiles, grasping his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Please cheer up?”

John lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. Slowly, he turns his gaze her way, locking their eyes. “I couldn’t care less about the reservations.” He grieves, eyes unable to connect with hers. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

She grips his hand tighter, offering him a small smile, hoping his eyes would light up to his normal self again, glimmer as they do in the moonlit night. 

But they didn’t. She frowns, bringing her thumb to brush the delicate skin under his eye, cupping his cheek. “It’s hard for me to see you like this, John. Talk to me. Please?” She whispers, pleading.

John sighs again, before turning his body to face her better. “Its just…that call, Y/N.” He exhales, shaking his head. He firms his eyes tight shut, facing down as he continues. 

“It was so hard to hear your name on the other end.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at the distant city lights again. Y/N rubs her thumb over his hand as she holds it, soothing him, trying her best to calm him.

He stays silent for another moment. As the city out in the distance moves, flows to pace as the night falls, Y/N feels her world standstill. She grips his hand tighter, her soothing strokes brush across his skin, refusing to let him wallow in his thoughts alone. 

She’d always be there for him, she’d promised herself. She’d be there for him, because the world had failed to do so.

“Y/N,” He begins, gloomed, tense. “Anytime I get something good, its always been taken away from me.” He looks down at his lap, collecting his thoughts. His eyes are heavy, and they seem to be glistening.

But not in the way Y/N wanted to see them glisten. They were glistening with tears.

“Today, when I got that call, I felt all those things again, all those feelings of hopelessness, guilt, fear…I felt like something was being snatched away from me again. Only this time, it was as if all of the other things combined together, but so much more.” He shakes his head. “It was you. Y/N.”

Her heart drops. She feels the ache.

“I can face anything. I’ve been built that way, I’ve learned, because these things happen to me. I’ve accepted that maybe I’m not deserving of... good. But I can’t…I can’t bare the thought of you being taken away from me. Not you.”

She feels her heart break, shatter for the man in front of her. The man who thought, that he didn’t deserve good. The man who in her eyes, deserved the entire world, if she could give it to him. She brings her other hand to hold both of his, assuring him, that she’s there.

“I just felt so fucking hopeless. I felt guilty that I wasn’t there with you, that I didn’t protect you like I promised I would.” He frowns again. 

“Y/N…I don’t have anything. All I have is you. I never had a family, I never had friends, everyone sees me as…” his aching tongue halts to finish he sentence. “I’ve never had anything. And after all I’ve done, all the blood on my hands, I don’t deserve anything.” He tries to hold himself together, staring in disgust at his hands that she held tight.

He sees them as an omen. 

“You are all I have, Y/N. Just you, and Dog. And today, when that operator called, I felt like my entire world was being taken away, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it.” His voice cracks. “Like always.” He looks down again, trying to keep himself together.

Y/N watches him, with eyes full of sadness. She felt daggers in her heart with each word he spoke. Trying to channel a smile, she brings her hand to cup his cheek, making him connect his eyes with hers. She leans forward, cupping his face with both her hands, pressing delicate kisses to each inch of his face.

She showers him in love, because that’s what he deserved.

“I love you,” She whispers between kisses. “So much, John. You deserve so much. You deserve more than you think.” She whispers, looking him in the eyes. John brings his arms around her, holding her close as he buries his face in her neck. She rubs up and down his back, running her hands through his hair, making him feel ease.

They hold each other, for what feels like an eternity, eyes closed, sulking in each other.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, Y/N breaks the silence, still holding him close. 

“John? Do you feel that?” She waits a moment, before speaking. “I’m right here. In your arms. Exactly where I belong,”

John smiles into her shoulder, wrapping his arms tighter around her now. She was right. She was right here, where she belonged. Her silken voice speaks again, in just above a whisper. 

“And if I’m not, I’m always just a daydream away.” She smiles.

John chuckles, pulling back, to look her into her shining eyes. “Just a daydream away, I like that.” He presses a kiss to her lips, resting his forehead against hers, as they close their eyes briefly. “Gosh. I love you so much. Don’t scare me like that again.”

She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you more, John. You deserve everything. And I promise, I’ll say it to you each and every day until you believe me. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

~~~

As they reach home, John, to no surprise, falls into full paranoid boyfriend mode. He helps her each step of the way, holding her hand as they climb the stairs to the front door. 

“John, I love you, but you do realize that I’m not hurt in any way? I just have a bandaid from the injection, silly.” She giggles, showing off her patched arm.

“I don’t care, Y/N. You’re not doing anything tonight and you’re going to let me take care of you, okay?” He shimmys the keys in the lock, opening the front door. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” He eyes her.

Y/N smiles, heart content at the man in front of her. She ruffles his hair playfully, pressing a kiss to his bicep, as he takes hold of her hand again, leading her in.

“Jonathan, there’s nothing to take care of. I’m fine.” 

Hanging his coat on the coat hanger, John rushes to Y/N’s side to take her coat off for her. Being the gentleman he is, he bends down to unstrap her heels, gently taking her shoes off her feet, storing them away for her.

“John, I’m okaaaaay.” Y/N tries again, although John lets it in through one ear, and out the other. There was no way he was letting his girl do anything at all, until she’d fully recovered. 

Placing a hand to the small of her back again, guiding her to the sofa, he ponders out loud. “Spinach is high in iron, right?”

“Yeah?” Y/N replies, getting herself comfy.

“Good. I’ll go make you a spinach smoothie then.”

Y/N scrunches her face in disgust, debating. “John, no. That’s gross.”

“Come ere boy!” John calls out to his Dog. As Dog runs to the room, Y/N hears John’s deep voice speak, as he pets his ears. “Keep mommy company, okay?”

Y/N blushes, at the thought of being Dog’s mommy.  

-

As the night falls further, John helps Y/N change into one of his oversized shirts. It comes to the same length as a dress would on her, John finds her absolutely adorable in it. He feels his heart full at the way she wears a piece of him on her.

A symbol that she was truly, undeniable, fully, his. 

After more of John’s antics, trying to help Y/N recover as fast as possible, they lay together in John’s bed, John’s mind partially dozed off to dreamland already.  He’d have an eventful evening for sure, but in the end, it was all going to be okay, with the love of his life rest beside him.

As the midnight sky covers the city horizon, moonlight filters in through the window, with a cool breeze flowing through the curtains, as steady, ocean like waves. The world is falling asleep, with the stars scattered in the black and blue marbled sky, the moon gleams around them, beaming its light, radiating over the busy New York night. 

To the rise and fall of her lover’s chest, Y/N hums in contentment. 

Tight in each others embrace, John and Y/N are tucked away, holding each other after the events of the night. John holds her to his chest, providing her a haven, where no harm could reach, no matter how strong. He places lingering, soft, drowsy kisses to her temples, to her shoulder, to her cheeks, as he pleases, letting her know he’s close, protecting her.

That he’d always be.

The fear, has brought along an overwhelming plethora of love. Nothing but pure, unconditional love. As they lay, secure next to the one who matters most, Y/N’s honeyed voice murmurs into the evening air, thick with sleep,

resting her head further into John’s chest as she pulls him closer,

with a gratified smile on her face.

“The fluffiest pillow I have, indeed.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Johns Outfit!

Y/N’s Outfit!

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

#john wick oneshot #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick imagines #john wick #john wick x y/n #john wick fluff #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves oneshot #keanu reeves #keanu reeves imagines

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

I wrote this quickly on my phone so beware of typos. This is the longest story I’ve ever written so I hope it doesn’t seem too long. I hope you like it. Reblog and like if you don’t mind.

Small Time Witch (20)

“Norns, girl. It’s hair. It will regrow. Just do it.”

“But I love your hair. Isn’t there another way? What if I take a piece of flesh?”

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose trying to shove scissors in your hand.

“Flesh will decay eventually if it has no blood source. Hair can last much longer.”

“Why do we need to cut it all off?!” You are being the biggest brat at the moment.

In order for you to become immortal Loki must bind a part of himself with the clipping of the Yggdrasil. Since it is a very powerful spell he assumes a large amount of hair is needed. Loki assured you he would make his short hair look as fashionable as any other mortal man. That’s exactly why you won’t let him cut it. He is anything but basic. Even when he’s in modern clothing he still looks like a fucking god and it’s all due to his luxurious hair.

Loki considers your earlier suggestion and genuinely fears for his safety. And this isn’t the first time he’s had to worry about you stabbing him. He taught you a spell using blood magick and you went for your athame so fast he had to knock it out of your hand. Now that it’s just you and him you have really let your true self shine. He can’t help but think he is also rubbing off on you a bit.

“While your violent tendencies turn me on immensely, I have to say your preference for my hair over my flesh is a little unnerving.”

“You are a Demi god. You heal fast.”

“Point well taken, my love. If you don’t cut it I will.”

He looks in the mirror holding the scissors open and he hesitates. He frowns at his reflection and drops the scissors on the counter. “On second thought, dearest, why don’t we go see the elves on Alfheim? Perhaps there is another way.”

With satisfied little smirk on your face you pat him on the shoulder and leave the bathroom. He is annoyed with your silent gloating but you really don’t care. You sit at the kitchen table quietly turning the pages of your cook book now full on smiling.

When Loki asked you to be immortal for him you hesitantly accepted. Forever is a long time and it was hardly a marriage proposal. You accepted none the less and so the complicated spell work began. The first step was binding Loki with the Yggdrasil and that was proving to be a challenge. So, as your life mate suggested, you geared up to take your first trip on the Bifrost to Alfheim.

You are very nervous. Loki held your hand trying to calm you but you couldn’t help it. Your thoughts were racing and your stomach was doing flips. You focused all of your energies on not puking. Loki called for Heimdall and you were whisked away.

Loki held on to your hips and braced you for landing. Your face was pressed up against his shirt and your eyes squeezed shut. It took a little bit of force to pry you off of him. “Relax, y/n. You’re safe. We’ve landed.”

Once you felt the ground solid beneath your feet you pushed Loki away and released the contents of your stomach. Inter dimensional travel was clearly not for you. He smoothed your hair back from your face and rubbed your back. A bottle of water appeared in his hand. “Drink this. Are you ok?” You shook your head and plopped into the grass trying to regain your composure.

Alfheim was truly a sight. Sprawling mountains and crisp air, the sun shining and glittering on the water. Your eyes explored the landscape with childlike wonder. The grass even felt softer. You stood up slowly turning to take it all in. We should definitely build a vacation home here.

You had a pretty long journey ahead of you by foot no less. You hoisted your pack onto your shoulder and started walking. Loki stared at you completely confused. You walked with purpose like you knew exactly where to go. You were absolutely walking in the wrong direction but you looked so sure of yourself.

“Pet?” he called after you, “It’s this way and we can just teleport.”

“I’m not sure if my stomach can handle that again.” All the color drained from your skin and you gagged.

“It’s not as harsh as the bifrost and we aren’t going as far. Hold onto me.” He took your hand and in the blink of an eye you were standing in front of a large temple. “Steady, darling. Deep breaths.” He backs away a little as you right yourself. “Ok?”

“Yep.” you gag a little but choke it back. After a moment you feel well enough to walk. “What is this place?”

“The temple of the Ljósálfar. Light elves. Freyr, who is the king of this realm and a very powerful vanir, gifted me the Yggdrasil. He will help us when the spell. Bow when he greets us.”

Out of nowhere the elf appeared. He was just as glorious and ancient looking as the land he ruled. He looked impossibly old. Your brain couldn’t even fathom how long he’s been alive. Was he glowing? You forgot to bow so you did quickly. Loki couldn’t stifle his laugh.

“This is the Midgardian to whom you’ve pledged your life? A little rough around the edges huh?” His voice was gentle and playful. You have come to realize Midgard is known as the idiot child who ate paint chips that one time. Couldn’t help if it was true.

“This is her first time outside of Midgard, your Grace. I am working on polishing her up.”

“If you’re careful you’ll have an eternity” he smiled at you and spoke slowly, “you may need that long to make her presentable.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a warning stare. He’ll get an earful at home.

“Forgive me for the unannounced intrusion, Sire, but I’m afraid the spell you’ve given me is a touch advanced...”

He tutted Loki and held up a finger, “You flatter me, boy. You are as practiced as they come. If you hesitate ask yourself if her immortality is what you really seek.”

“It is!” you shouted. “I’m sorry. It is, Sire. We didn’t know what to use. You said ‘bind it with a piece of himself’. Which piece? I suggested flesh but we were worried about decay.” You rambled on for what felt like hours. He hung on your every word chuckling at your ignorance. This ought to be a funny story to tell at the old elf’s lodge later. Loki was mortified. Once you finished he patted your hand and laughed.

“You are a spirited little girl aren’t you? What fun! Loki I am surprised at you. To think hair or flesh could grant immortality. It has to be the essence of your life force. More powerful than blood. A piece of your soul.” Loki looked shocked. Minor detail. As if the elf could read his mind he said, “Did I leave that part out? Must be slipping in my old age.” He smiled at you again. “Come! I’ll get you fixed up.”

He lead you deeper into the temple down a dark path illuminated by torches. It should have been cold and damp but it was still comfortably warm. Loki felt your apprehension and squeezed your hand. You came to a gigantic wooden door with carvings depicting elves dancing around what looked like the Yggdrasil. You ran your fingers over the wood dipping them into the carvings.

You reached a long table that looked like an alter. He took the Yggdrasil clipping and Loki’s hand. With the tip of his athame he cut Loki’s palm. He took your hand and did the same. You placed your hand on top of the clipping and entwined your fingers. Freyr held his hands over yours and said something that sounded like a prayer. The Yggdrasil let out a stream of golden light that wrapped around both of your wrists.

“Now you will feel no storms,

for each of you will be shelter to the other.

Now you will feel no cold,

for each of you will be warmth to the other.

Now there is no loneliness,

for each of you is companion to the other,

You are two persons,

but there is one life before you, and one home.

Turn together to look at the road you traveled,

to reach this—the hour of your happiness.

It stretches behind you into the past.

Look to the future that lies ahead.

A long and winding, adventure-filled road,

whose every turn means discovery,

new hopes, new joys, new laughter,

and a few shared tears.

May happiness be your companion,

May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead;

And through all the years to come.

Go this day to your dwelling place

and enter into your days together.

May your days be good and long

upon the earth.

Your adventure has just begun!”

The Yggdrasil split into two pieces which he placed on your left ring fingers. Those words sounded an awful lot like vows. You and Loki stared at each other in shock. “Umm. Excuse me, Sir. Are we married?” you asked in disbelief.

“Yes! Of course! In the sense that your souls are bound and only death can part you. Sounds like marriage to me. Did I leave that part out too? Oh dear. Well joyous felicitations to the happy couple.” And he disappeared.

“Well shit.” You said to no one in particular. You left the temple in complete silence occasionally looking down at your finger. Loki called for Heimdall and you were home. You didn’t vomit this time thank goodness. That would have made your dramatic exit a lot less dramatic. You let go of his hand and walked into the house leaving him on the porch with a slammed door in his face.

“Pet?” He said after a few minutes. You were standing at the kitchen sink drinking glass after glass of water. “Y/N. Can you say something? I don’t know why you’re angry but I can tell you are and....”

“Did you know?” Your voice was deadly calm.

“Know about what? That he’d marry us today? No. He conveniently left out that tidbit. It’s not like it’s legally binding.”

“But it is spiritually binding. Your soul is bound to mine. Your immortality bound to me. That means something.” You had tears in your eyes and your fists were clenched. How could he be so casual about this?

His brow furrowed and he hated that you thought it didn’t mean anything to him. Now you felt each other even deeper. Subtle shifts were amplified. As soon as his mood shifted from apprehension to hurt you knew. It softened you a bit but you were still angry.

“Lok, I didn’t mean to say it didn’t mean anything to you. I know it did. I got married today in sweatpants with none of my friends or family there and my ring is a twig. Forgive me if it wasn’t the magical day I was expecting.” The weight of the Yggdrasil changed on your finger. The brown branches were changed to gold and an emerald of impressive size set in the middle. You noticed he changed his to complement yours. He weaved his fingers with your fingers and pulled you closer to him.

“It was magical to me. Couldn’t you feel it? The way we are now woven together like a tapestry? It’s not just the meaning of it all, a symbolic moment. We are physically one. Y/N I don’t care if you are in the finest gown or your sweats. We are bound together until death. Did we need the pageantry?”

Now you felt like an asshole. He gave himself to you mind body and soul and here you are crying about a dress. “I’m being a brat aren’t I?”

A soft smile warmed his face, “A little. I didn’t want to say.”

You slid your arms around his waist and rested on his chest. With a wiggle of your fingers the record player clicked on.

“Is this our first dance?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Mhmm. I love you. I’m sorry for ruining our day.”

“I love you too and you ruined nothing. It wouldn’t be us if we didn’t have a little drama surrounding our wedding. Dance with me.”

You swayed to the music in the dim light of your living room....in the cottage built in the glen where the sun hits it like a spotlight.

#marvel #marvel witches #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki angst #soft loki #loki odinson

[renaxwrites]

Eleven

.08 - No Control

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: none!

masterlist: here :)

a/n: it’s been a quick minute! also I’m not entirely sure how taxis and such work in Japan, so for the sake of the story, we’re using uber! no smelly taxis for you ma’am >:) also I picked bops I felt fit with the groups lol don’t fight me on the vibes I got :) also here’s a TikTok that inspired the Suga scene: <3 !

previous || next

I can’t contain this anymore. I’m all yours, I’ve got no control.

“Are you sure this looks okay? I feel a little more breeze than usual...”

“Y/n, it’s fine! You look stunning. And if you don’t believe me, ask Mizuki. MIZUKI-SAN!! We need some confirmation over here!!” Suga bellowed.

You, Suga, and Mizuki were all centered in the main room. Even Akiteru was home for the night. Tonight was the volleyball “get-together” downtown, with not only Karasuno, but with other schools as well.

Everyone was expected to dress a little nicer, since it was a night out in the town. Tsukki and Yamaguchi has already left, getting ready within 10 minutes. He walked out the door as soon as he heard, “I’ll be ready in 2 hours...minimum” come out of your mouth. And you’re glad he did. For now.

Your fashion choice was mutually decided that past weekend between Suga and Yachi, who were both in on your “karaoke confession” plan. Their dress choice for you made you feel like a dream. You had eyebrows fleekd, the lashes on, the eyeliner pointed, the heels strapped, the whole she-bang! However, you were worried about actually going out in it. Right now it looks good in your room, but how does it look outside of it?

“Y/n dear, you look ever-so lovely. And might I say, I’m sure it’ll turn the head of even a more emotionally unaware, six foot tall, blonde player,” Mizuki truthfully reassures.

Wait. WHAT?

Your reaction was like an open book, causing the room to chuckle.

“Yes, y/n, as emotionally constipated as my brother is, it’s a little obvious there’s a little chemistry between you two. And itd be ludicrous if he didn’t see you in that dress like we do. If he doesn’t, I’ll teach him a lesson myself,” Akiteru punches his empty hand.

“Well...if you say so...”

“But before you go, let me take a picture! You all look adorable!” Mizuki exclaimed.

A few minutes of photo-snapping later, you were off! Since the event was farther, the two of you shared an uber for convenience. You were already struggling with breaking in your new heels, there was no way you were going to make it! Thank goodness for Suga’s common sense.

  ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Soon, you arrived in front a low-lighted club, with neon lights accenting it’s features. The only detail setting apart from a real club was that it was being rented out to you, majority minors, so no alcohol would be seen in any of your hands. Not all of you were minors, but none of you were at the country’s drinking age yet.

The bass from the music amplified the atmosphere, which suddenly closed in on you, making you nervous. Suga noticed right away, and was quick to put a rub your shoulder and let you know “everything is fine, don’t worry.”

He leads you to where the main mingling was happening. Immediately, you see players who you recognized, but don’t quite know. You stride up to a group seated on a leather couch, seating Daichi, Hinata, and Yamaguchi. Beside them were a bed-headed individual, a pudding-haired boy talking only to Shoyo, an owl-looking dude, and a very dashing raven-haired boy. Oh, and Tsukishima. Can’t forget him.

“Oy! You guys made it!” Daichi announced. “Now everyone is here! Before we start, let me introduce these guys. This here is Kuroo and Kenma, captain and setter for Nekoma. Bokuto, and Akaashi, captain and setter for Fukurodani.”

Formalities were exchanged, but Tsukishima hasn’t uttered a word yet. He was too occupied with how Suga’s hand was on your back when you first walked in. Why’d you come with him? And that one second of silence before Daichi’s greeting. Within that split moment, he noticed all 8 of the boys on the couch had drank in your appearance. Including himself. How could he help it, when you looked as angelic as the way you did?

Only Kuroo was cheeky enough to comment on it. “Daichi, you never told me you had such cute managers! Hope you don’t mind me transferring to Karasuno,” he said with a wink sent your way.

“Keep flirting like a creep and I’ll sit you on the bench for the whole season if you do transfer,” Daichi half-jokingly replied. Kuroo only cackled in response.

“But you do look very pretty, y/n-san. I almost didn’t recognize you for a second! Very pretty!” Hinata innocently piped up. If Tsukishima was ever thankful for Hinata, it was now, as his comment made you blush.

“Let’s get this started! Captains, up to the front please!” Daichi announced, leading the captains present to the front of the room.

You and Suga replace the spot where Daichi and Bokuto were. It was then that Tsukishima decided to acknowledge your presence. With a shoulder tap.

“So. It took you two hours to pull something together like that? Looks like it only took 20 minutes to me,” was the first thing that he said.

You turn to look at him. Raising a brow, you ask, “Tsukishima. On average it takes me 12 minutes to get ready for school. And on the few months we’ve known each other, have you seen me with makeup on? Or in heels? Didn’t think so sir. So sue me if I want to slap some eyeliner on.”

You cross your arms and turn the other way. In doing so, your dress hiked up your thighs, leaving your legs a little more exposed. The sight causes Tsukishima to blush and distract himself with something else.

“Alright everyone, thank you for joining us tonight! Before we get started, we want to wish all the teams a ‘good luck’ in advance!” Daichi goes on to explain the theme for the night: TikTok. Some people were confused, but most, including yourself, were super hyped for the theme.

The teams drew numbers, picking the order. First was Nekoma, Fukurodani next, followed by Karasuno.

The Nekoma third years started it off strong, dancing and singing shamelessly to Savage from the TikTok challenge. The nerves you were nursing began to dissipate as you watch how much fun the boys were having trying to ‘throw it back’. You were still holding your stomach by the time Kuroo came back to his seat, trying to comfort the aches you had from laughing so hard.

“Enjoy the show, princess?” The captain teased as he tried to keep his own laughter at bay.

You wipe a tear, not wanting to ruin your makeup. “My gosh, who knew the players of Nekoma could thow a volleyball and throw it back? Immaculate performance, a definite ten out of ten from me.”

“There’s more where that came from, if you want. I’m excited to see your attempt, though,” he countered with a wink.

Before you could retaliate, Bokuto thunderously intervened. “Hey! If you thought that was good, just wait for mine. I’ve been told I have more...what was it Akaashi?....No, one those girls said that one time....OH! I’ve got wayyy more ‘cake’ than that bed-head rooster does!” He triumphantly crossed his arms.

“Shut up owl-face! Y/N can be the judge, winner gets bragging rights.” “You’re on flat-ass!”

Nekoma had since finished their turn (in which Kenma conveniently showed up from hiding), giving Bokuto the opportunity to sprint up the karaoke stage. He had a plan set into motion. With a mini emo-episode and several attempts of bribing, the ace-captain was followed by his reluctant teammates.

They all gathered in some formation, leaving you curious. You and your seat mates ponder as to what song they would choose to try and top Nekoma’s third years.

You hear a familiar “Hold on...” burst from the speakers, and you immediately gasp aloud. Those sitting around turn to you. However, Bokuto’s next line in the mic instantly stole the attention of the whole room.

“Did you hear what the fuck I SAID??? SHAKE!! SOME ASSS!!!”

Everyone bursts in hysterics as Bokuto started enthusiastically started twerking to the beat, his teammates following his lead, much to their dismay. However, what finally killed you was when Akaashi stood silently as he began to toss one-dollar bills in his captain’s direction.

Suga handed you some tissues for you to prevent your tears from staining your makeup. Bokuto took his boastful stride back to the couch, taking his seat.

“So? Better than flat-ass over here? Guess volleyball isn’t the only thing I’m better at, Kuroo.”

The two captains await your answer, to which you silently pull out a few dollar bills.

“Kuroo, I do believe you gave your best shake, but Bokuto is the taker. Please sir, take this token and buy yourself a drink, as the winner with the best cake,” you bow your head, trying to stifle your laughter.

Bokuto finalizes your decision with a boastful “Hey Hey Heyyy!”, and goes to buy the group some water with your generous donation.

“Alright, so who from Karasuno wants to go first?” Ah, the question you secretly dreaded.

Suga gives you a look. You return a look to him, silently praying that you don’t want to go first. But Suga being Suga volunteered you both, hastily dragging you along. As the two of you ready yourselves on the mics, a conversation sparked up back where you once sat.

“Thanks for the water, Bokuto-san, I have a feeling I’m going to need it in a minute,” the Nekoma captain stated in a nonchalant tone.

“Huh? Why?” Everyone else inquires, suddenly curious. He simply leans back. Arms behind his head, eyes on you. “She’s kinda cute, dont’cha think?”

Tsukishima follows his gaze, then proceeds to glare back at his friend. Kuroo notices, then feigns innocence. “What? She’s pretty, can’t blame a guy for noticing...why? You have your eye on her too or something, Tsukishima-kun?”

The blonde then breaks his stare, scowling. “Or something.”

The expression Tsukki wore when watching you told Kuroo otherwise.

Back onstage, you silently pray that Suga’s mystery song choice was a decent one. You trusted the man, but then again, some choices of his were questionable.

“Okay y/n, you ready? And don’t say no because we’re doing it no matter what you say!” he flashes you a blinding smile. You just nod in response and try not to sweat.

The song begin, and everyone instantly is hit with the familiar sound. You turn to Suga and lightly slap his arm playfully. “You really picked this one? I haven’t heard this in so long!” To which he responds, “Can’t blame me!” You couldn’t come up with a response before he began to sing his heart out, releasing all he needed to say within the words of the song.

“Can’t count the years on one hand that we’ve been together...I need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better...”

The sound was sucked out of the room, with Suga being the only one to fulfill it. You were so mesmerized by his voice you found yourself swaying to the music, your body having a mind of its own.

“I should be over all the butterflies, but I’m into you, I’m into you. And baby even on our worst nights, I’m into you...”

Before your part arose, he picks up your hand and spins you around in time with the melody. This was enough to bring you to your senses. Suga gives your fingers a squeeze as you began your part.

“Recount the night that I first met your mother, and on the drive back to my house I told you that, told you that I loved ya...”

The way the stage lights presented you had your friends captivated. There was something different about you as you sang your lullaby. The movement of your hips was captivating to a certain boy you once linked pinkies with. The reflection of your dress in tune with your movements left him breathless. Tsukishima swore thw way you looked into his eyes while mustering out “I’m still into you...” was for him. Even if it was a figment of his imagination, he was fine with just pretending for a mere moment.

You attack Suga with a hug after finishing Paramore’s famous song, flustered at the amount of applause you both faced. hand-in-hand, the two of you retreated back to your rightful seat, and were once again bombarded with praise.

“Y/N!! SUGA-SAN!! That was amazing!!” “The way you two harmonized...immaculate” “I didn’t know you were so good!”

“Thanks, it wasn’t much,” you play with your hair, still slightly embarrassed. You looked up into a pair of golden eyes, waiting for the only opinion you cared about tonight.

Tsukishima returns your stare, quickly glances at your clasped hands with Suga, then reverts his gaze just as quickly. “Well you didn’t mess up so...good job.”

You roll your eyes so hard you felt the tips of your false lashes touch your brows. “Thanks, Tsukishima.” You’re go of Suga’s hand and plop down to to your seat with a huff.

“Y/n-chan, don’t worry about him. Pretty sure that’s his way of saying he loved your voice. I know I did,” Kuroo reassures, patting on your head.

You failed to notice the way Tsukki’s cheeks tinted with pink as he threw a hard glare at his friend. What you did see was Suga headed outside with none other than Daichi. Alone.

You send him a tex expecting details later, not expecting him to reply anytime soon.

You’re thrown out of your curious train of thought when Nishinoya and Tanaka began to rave to “Hot wings” from the Rio movie. The underrated bop served them well, as everyone migrated to the dance floor to rejoice to their song of choice.

Silently bobbing in your seat, you’re granted an offer. “Want to join me?” The hand outstretched belonging to Kuroo, of course.

With consent, he pulls you up and starts guiding you to the middle, a hand on your back.

You look back sweetly at Tsukishima. “You coming?”

In the .5 seconds of coming up with a response, the blonde rapidly weighed out his decisions. Ultimately, he shook his head, keeping on the same deadpan expression as before.

It was obvious you tried not to look deflated as you plater a smile on your face. “Okay then! I’ll be over here!”

He watched you walk away. He watched you dance as if it was your last night on earth. He watched the way your dress hugged your figure, magnifying your endless dips and curves of your body as you moved to the atmosphere. He watched the way you glowed under the endless rainbow of stage lights, bestowing you with an alluring aura.

The way he watched you so intently sent his thoughts spiraling. He found his brain in a dilemma with his heart, which was thumping wildly in his chest.

Tsukishima decided it was best to escape his own confrontation. He exchanged some words with Yamaguchi, then strides out the door.

Not before he took a last look at you.

Practically drenched in a layer of sweat, you lug yourself off to the side and catch a breath. “I’m going to go get some water!” You shout to your friend in order to be heard over the music.

You check the time on your phone, then look to the couch you once sat on.

It was Eleven’o clock. And Tsukishima was gone.

Powerless, and I don’t care it’s obvious. I just can’t get enough of you.

Tag list: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0 @fandoms-on-main @smellybananaz @keikink @tsukiak4ri @skyguy-peach @chicalmeida @obsessedwhxre @anhphunnnn @200th-piece-of-glass @sana-li

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishimaimagine #haikyuu imagines #eleven #rena imagines

[hellhoundsprey]

professor castiel likes his freshman student sam uncomfortably amount

By the time I realized how dark I could have gone with this I was already headed to fluff-town, so have some wholesome idiots ❤.

warnings: age difference, teacher student relationship, drunk sex

includes: college!au, professor!castiel, student!sam, mutual pining, error 404: no stereotypical top/bottom dynamics found, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, hair pulling, cas is a domestic soft old man, stanford era

 ~

  “Wait, so—not ever?”

“Not ever.”

“That—wow.” Sam frowns adorably. Measures Cas with his eyes, and Cas hopes he’ll accredit the blush with the unholy small amount of vanilla coke in this cup of vodka.

“Is, is that—so weird? Am I weird?” he blabbers, the fool, and startles together with Sam as someone tackles the beer pong table behind them with the exact outcome you’d expect.

“It’s—I dunno, uncommon?” tries Sam, always so polite, even when obviously intoxicated. Could converse with pretty much everyone except his boring old professor; the pretty blonde making bedroom eyes at him since Cas can remember Sam sitting down with him, for example.

Cas shrugs, pointedly ‘cool’. “It’s just not my cup of tea.”

Sam considers, “Huh,” and takes another deep drink from his red cup. (Sam’s a freshman but Cas wouldn’t still get invited to his students’ house parties if he had any sort of problem with underage drinking.)

“It’s just,” Sam tries again, so puzzled that he cannot let the thought go, and Cas dream-sighs on the inside, chin in his hand and elbow on his knee, now. “Like—how can you not have watched a single one of them? Like, zero? Niente?”

“Pop culture just doesn’t sit well with me,” and Sam smiles—surrendering and pitying but it’s a smile, and Cas will take that without complaint.

“But it’s…Marvel, sir. That’s like—Disney.”

Cas takes another sip from his drink.

Sam’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“I—have watched Disney movies,” assures Castiel, hopeless idiot and academic, three doctorates. “The one with the—the dogs? I watched that one.”

Sam gives him the look that spells out how he doesn’t want to accuse Cas of lying but that Cas is making it pretty hard on him.

Sam lives on campus. Was supposed to be the designated driver tonight but his friends vanished early on, and he told Cas how difficult things are at the moment with his family and his scholarships and the new environment and so on and so on. Cas has heard it many times before. It’s a shame he can’t do much more than listen and give smart-assed advice from his privilege-built ivy tower.

Except for, y’know, “You can crash at my place. It’s safer than hitching an Iber at this hour.”

“Uber,” corrects Sam, and, “is, uh—I mean, are you sure? Is that okay?”

“Why, yes.” Cas frowns, confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Oh, vodka. The devil’s juice.

It takes another five minutes of persuasion until Sam finally gives in.

As said: the devil’s juice.

Cas doesn’t have much family left to turn up their noses at his ‘undignified housing situation’. It’s a house and the roof barely leaks, so it clearly does its job (and he’ll get the roof fixed this fall, promise). It has a bathtub and an adorable built-in kitchen from the sixties. Castiel fell in love with it the second he found the listing.

He informs, “Here we are,” uselessly because it’s obvious, they’re taking their shoes off and everything. “Just put it with the others,” he helps upon Sam’s hesitant posture with his sneakers in his too-big hands.

God, they’re big hands, aren’t they?

Anyhow. “Are you hungry? I could go for a snack.”

Castiel is already at the fridge, grabbing whatever is nearest, as Sam catches up. “That’s—I’m okay, you really don’t have to…”

“Oh, be my guest. They pay me well, I can get more groceries if I want. Another fridge, if I want.” He closes the fridge door with a swivel of his hips and unloads the content in his arms over the kitchen counter. “Take a seat, why don’t you. There’s wine, too, if you want.”

Sam assures, “I’m good,” and plants himself at Castiel’s kitchen table.

Cas turns towards him, knife in hand. “Crust on or crust off?”

“Off,” mumbles the kid, and Cas can’t help but smile along with him.

The sandwiches are successfully put together and diminished within minutes. Sam definitely eats like someone who hasn’t had a decent meal in a while, and Cas has to hold back very hard not to urge him into seconds (or thirds).

As he already plucks the too-many pillows from his couch, Cas inquires, “Is this okay with you?” and Sam, of course, nods rapidly.

“Of course, yeah. Thank you, sir.”

“It’s ‘Cas’,” offers Cas, who doesn’t need to be reminded of his age or status this frequently.

If he wasn’t Sam’s professor…God.

Things could be different.

If he had become a librarian, maybe. He can’t think of many other places or occasions to otherwise run into Sam. Always studying, cramming; such a hard-working student. Cas sees himself—burying himself in books and thoughts. Everyone has their ways of escaping real life.

Cas doesn’t leave him without a spare toothbrush before he makes his way upstairs. Takes care of his bedtime hygiene (or, the shortened, drunken version of that) and falls into bed. Worms out of his pants, somehow, but that’s as far as things will go, and that’s okay. Not that he has a say in that.

Castiel falls asleep as soon as he closes his eyes.

~

“Mr. Novak.”

“Hm.”

“… Mr. Novak?”

Cas smacks his lips, turns his head to face the wall.

“… Cas?” and again, louder, “Cas?”

“Yes? I? Oh, lord.” Cas groans, rubs at his face. “What time is it?”

“Don’t know,” murmurs Sam, and Cas realizes it’s still night. “I’m sorry for waking you…”

Cas blabbers, “Is everything okay?” and, yeah, definitely still fucking drunk. Jesus.

Sam begins with, “I,” but can’t seem to find the rest of the sentence.

Cas’ eyes adjust to the spinning room, to the shadow-y figure of Sam Winchester sitting hunched over on the floor, right next to Cas’ bed. He looks upset, to say the least.

“Did something happen?”

“Just, a—a nightmare.” Pale, Sam tries a thin-lipped smile.

“Oh. Well—”

“I tipped the—the lamp? By the couch? It broke.”

Castiel supplies, “Ah,” and tries to remember what fucking lamp Sam means. Did he put a lamp there? He might have put a lamp there.

“I couldn’t find a dustpan or nothin’. There’s shards all over the carpet and—”

“Oh my, did you hurt yourself?”

“Just a—no,” corrects Sam, and not-so-subtly as his own intoxicated brain might be telling him he’s doing it pulls the too-long sleeve of his hoodie further over his hand.

It’s not a thought, it just happens. “Let me see,” and a reach, a grab—Sam’s hand, rough skin, the warmth of it.

Castiel holds on harder just because he does not (cannot) admit his foolish embarrassment.

Studies the (truly minor) cuts with a frown and decides, overly fatalistic: “Bathroom. Iodine. Bandaids.”

“It’s really nothing, sir…”

“Sam, do I have to drag you? Because I will.”

Sam’s mouth closes, presses thin in defeat.

The kid trots after Cas, who has yet to let go of that hand, and doesn’t take note of said fact until they’re already in the bathroom and he raises that treasure up to his eyes for medical purposes.

Huge hands indeed.

Beautiful, beautiful hands.

Cas clears his throat. It doesn’t help.

Sam stands awkward. Pulled his jeans back on or never took them off? Barefoot. Cas is still in socks.

And boxers.

Cas clears his throat again.

“You do this a lot?”

Cas contributes, “Huh?” and his eyes flicker from where he’s applying iodine up to those magnificent, now-hooded eyes—tired and swimming and god he’s probably so soft. Clearly huggable.

“You’re good at that,” adds Sam, the angel, the puppy, with his tiny mouth trying for another smile.

“I—well, I.” Have a messed-up family? Too many clumsy siblings? Helper syndrome? “Yes.”

The tiniest of chuckles. Cas’ stomach does things that probably would feel great if he hadn’t poisoned himself with this much vigor.

Sam tells him, “You’re great,” and Cas feels heat rising to his face.

The intense stench of iodine doesn’t help. “I’m just…a guy. Who owns too many books and knows too many things.”

“Exactly: great.”

Cas scoffs, helpless, eyes on his task at hand because otherwise he’d stare into Sam’s face until they inevitably make out for the next consecutive twenty-four hours. “I’m, I, there are much greater people out there. I’m just a—”

“Professor.”

Cas looks up, which is a mistake. Right into those eyes, which are too kind, too close. Wait, when did they get so close?

Cas manages a coarse, “Correct,” before Sam’s mouth overcomes the last (miniscule) distance.

Castiel hadn’t thought about how long it has been since he’d last been close with someone like this; the last time someone kissed him, the last time he kissed someone.

That someone’s hand cupped his face, or his hand touched someone else’s face. Held on, maybe breathing, maybe not.

Castiel presses their foreheads together; tips of noses squished as well and Sam makes the smallest of noises. Relief, maybe. God, he’s tall.

Cas hears, “I’m sorry,” before he kisses the kid again. And again.

It takes a while for him to be present enough to toss the tweezers and iodine-soaked cotton ball into the sink, and only does that because he requires two hands to get a hold of the kid like he needs to.

He’s somehow got Sam with his back to the door, breathing at least as heavy as him and his hair is too-soft, it shouldn’t be this soft, this easy to bury his fingers in and hold onto.

Sam sucks his own lip behind his teeth once Cas gives them a break and Cas is painfully, suddenly aware of what is happening, and what is going to happen, if Sam doesn’t—

“Tell me to stop.”

Cas is panting, horrified.

He repeats, “Tell me to stop, Samuel,” and Sam uses that opportunity to dive back for Cas’ mouth.

Cas has got a not-his-own hand down his boxers before he can even vocalize his request for the bedroom.

Feels so fucking out of it, surreal with that over-strong hand just holding on, twisting, so capable. He can barely walk.

They get Sam’s jeans off easy enough; the hoodie is more of a challenge and Cas makes a deep-stomach happy noise for the musk, the worn-out band tee hiding underneath—faded and thin and Sam’s very visibly hard nipples that he has to work his thumbs over, if only for the sliver of arousal in Sam’s face.

The fucking hunger. “Can I suck you off?”

“Uhm, whu—?” is all Cas gets to say, because Sam’s already dropped to his knees, already yanked Cas’ boxers down mid-thigh. More accurate, “Jesus Christ,” and hands back into that mop of hair and Sam’s already swallowed him down to the fucking base.

Holy mother of—

“God,” stammers Cas, knees dangerously weak and oh lord that throat, the fucking precision and casual perfection and he doesn’t have a say in how his hands force Sam’s head despite the obvious willingness; allow him to pull him in and grind deep.

It’s a mistake again to open his eyes and look down because Sam’s right there to meet him, eyes tearing up now but he doesn’t even gag; moves despite Cas’ brutal hold on him and tears at his own hair to bob his mouth up and down the length of Cas’ cock—cheeks sucked in, no teeth, not a hint of ’em.

“Oh God, Sam, wait, wait—”

And Sam does. Pulls off, hand wrung tight around the now-wet base of Cas’ dick and sounding a different kind of drunk; breathless, dark. “You okay?”

Cas half-laughs, “Better than okay,” and Sam’s perfect mouth pulls into a tiny, mean smirk.

“Gonna blow?”

“Yes, give me a second.”

“I can fuck your face if you want.”

“I—a-absolutely,” and Cas didn’t know they were so close to the bed that one harsh push of Sam’s arm would send him on it back-first.

The springs inside his mattress creak with the unfamiliar stab of Sam Winchester’s knees.

Above Castiel, the kid rids himself of his wonderful-smelling t-shirt, tosses it god-knows-where, and Cas already feels breathless.

Kinda accepts that this is reality, somehow, when Sam holds him down with the weight of his eyes alone, the practiced tug on his underwear that gets his dick out; strokes it once, twice.

Cas can hear how wet he is.

“Sorry,” ponders Sam, kneeing his way further up to straddle Cas’ face right, “It’s kinda big.”

Cas would say something along the lines of ‘oh, that’s fine’ or ‘you’re fine’ or ‘please, God, get it in me’, if he wasn’t so busy getting his mouth on that fucking beautiful cock.

Cut and huge and Cas’ jaw won’t open as far as it probably should, but judging by the way Sam groans and makes himself comfortable halfway down Cas’ fucking gullet, he doesn’t seem to mind it much.

Cas’ throat gets pounded all strict nearly immediately, and he can’t do much more than scramble his hands to hold onto Sam’s ass and figure out how to acquire any oxygen. Any, at all.

“Fuck, your throat,” and that shouldn’t sound loving, dreamy; not that rough around the edges, hissed through gritted teeth and there’s balls slapping Cas’ chin and it’s—so—good.

Cas has to spank Sam’s ass pretty hard for him to notice and give him a breather (literally). Lets him cough up and swallow back down the worst, make a slut-sound before Sam laughs, angles back in.

“You like it?”

Cas groans something resembling a, “Uh-huh,” around too many miles of cock, eyes closed and Sam’s nails digging into his scalp, tipping and tilting him like he needs, wants.

“Fucking love it, don’t you?”

Cas would nod. Somehow, he’s sure Sam gets it either way.

Cas’ forgotten dick drools over his happy trail. Still so fucking hard and Sam’s spit has dried all the way now and Cas wouldn’t dream to get a hand on himself if he can keep them on Sam’s tight little ass instead.

“Wanna come on your face.”

Cas makes a heart-broken noise.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Cas gets a chance to rasp his, “Yes,” and misses the fucking violence of that cock immediately, waits patiently and gulping for air for Sam to finish himself off.

Just a few strokes and there it goes; they both groan.

Cas feels more discomfort over how much he doesn’t care that it gets into his lashes, his nose, than the fact itself.

“Fuck, your eyes. Sorry.”

“First drawer,” and Cas is barely done saying that by the time there’s already a tissue wiping over his face.

Sam kisses him. Lets Cas lick the taste of his own cock over his tongue and growl-laughs.

“Where do you want it?”

“Want what?” chuckles Cas, halfway into cuddle mode with Sam’s comfortable lightweight on top of him, the gentle attention to his hair.

Sam fixes him with his drunk-dark gaze. Edges his thumbnail along Cas’ cheek, the corner of his mouth.

“My mouth?” and, Jesus Christ, “My ass?”

“Jesus—Christ, I—”

Sam inquires, “Condoms?” before Cas can shut him up with his mouth on Sam’s.

Can rake his fingers through the now-mess of all that hair, dwell in the light of all of this kid’s post-orgasmic bliss.

Sam laughs, “What?”

“You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”

Sam laughs more.

“You’d really let me…?”

“Hell yeah. But no pressure.”

“I really liked what you did before.”

“Mouth, then?” and Cas smiles, nods, and Sam licks another wet kiss into his mouth before he crawls down the sweaty, crumpled mess that is Castiel still in today’s white dress-shirt.

“You do that a lot?” asks Cas, softly petting through that hair while Sam takes good care of him—mouths along the length, now, and it’s even better/worse than the spectacular deep-throating from earlier. Just tender and teasing.

It’s not gonna take a whole lot to get Cas there anyway, at this point.

“What, suck cock? I dunno.” A broad lap of tongue, a casual puckered suck on the frenulum. “Not lately, no.”

“You are magnificent. At it and in general,” and that earns him another humbled noise.

The pillow talk dies off in favor of Sam wrapping his lips around the crown of Cas’ cock. Of him swallowing the entire length, again, working him with muscles Cas is very sure couldn’t have been placed without this exact use in mind.

Cas’ hands hold on, don’t want or need to direct anymore. His hips counter-work him inside that wet-tight clutch and Sam doesn’t pull off once Cas warns him.

Just takes him and Cas has no other choice than emptying down that darling throat, groans and hitches his hips and eventually has to push at that forehead to dislodge the kid.

Explains, “Sensitive,” groggy and slurred and Sam just crawls back up and smothers him in kisses. Blankets him and Cas gets to put his arms around him, finally—the muscled, skinny width of that back, sweat-slick and rising-falling with his slowly calming breath.

Cas sighs, beyond contented.

He wakes to an elbow in his face, the hiss of his own pain.

Curses, “Jesus,” and Sam blinks awake to that, scrambles like he’s terrified until he apparently remembers where he is, who Cas is.

Rushes, “Shit,” and, “Sorry, you okay?” and yeah it hurts but the idea of a black eye doesn’t exactly faze Cas.

He’s had worse. “’M fine,” he promises, but lets Sam get up on one elbow, examine him for damage.

The focused, guilty frown. The precision of his fingers, searching, feathering over Cas’s skin.

Cas feels himself breaking into a smile. Sam scoffs, “What?” and allows to be nudged down for a kiss.

Gonna be day outside, soon. Birds begin to chirp. The dog collar of Mrs. Smith’ Pomeranian jingling from down the street.

Sam lies back down so they can cuddle up right. Lets Cas pet through his hair, try (and fail) to tuck it behind one of those darling, secret ears.

Inquires, with Cas’ pinkie learning the shapes of the beauty marks on the right corner of his chin, “You do this a lot?”

“Elaborate,” hums Cas, harboring desires to not leave this bed until either his kidneys fail or he has to go to work again on Monday. And how he might convince Sam to bear him company.

“Fuck your students?” and Cas laughs.

“’Not lately, no’,” he teases, but ultimately assures how, “No, Samuel. I don’t.”

“It’s pretty illegal,” muses Sam. “We’d get into so much trouble.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, all conspiracy. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Sam laughs in a tone of comfort that helps Cas forming the thought of how things are probably gonna be alright.

#hellhoundsprey #lemon #request #spn ficlet #sastiel #student teacher relationship #professor!castiel #student!sam #stanford era #Anonymous

[randogirlo-fando]

Andante, Andante Part 1/?

Summary-Keg King Billy Hargrove becomes infatuated with Mike and Nancy’s cousin who is staying with them over the summer.

Warnings- swearing, mentions of sex, eventual smut

Word count-2.5k

May 1985

You close the door to your baby blue 1984 Jeep Cherokee you got as a graduation present, giggling after hearing the faint voice of one of your favorite cousins exclaiming “She’s here! She’s here!”. Nancy comes running out to give the first hug, squeezing pretty tight for such a petite girl.

“It’s been way too long!” She smiles brightly and you embrace her back just as tight as she did.

“It has, I would’ve visited sooner but private school has been kicking my ass.”

Soon Karen comes out holding Holly and you smile at them, excited to finally meet Holly when she actually has thoughts and opinions.

“(Y/n/n) look how grown you are!” Nancy let’s go of you to make room for her mom and sister while the redness goes to your cheeks awkwardly. Karen puts Holly down and pulls you into a hug, Holly hiding behind her legs. It was expected considering it’s been 4 years since the last visit.

“Holly this is your cousin (y/n). You were a lot younger when she last saw you.” After waving to her she smiles and pokes your knee causing another giggle to erupt from you.

“Ted can you come get (y/n)’s bags?”

“Sure honey” All of you head inside once the bags are grabbed and you begin to study all the things that’s changed about the house. The new pictures on the shelves, the new rug Karen must’ve got to tie the living room together, even the new vacuum she must’ve got after the old one broke. They may not have actually been new, but they were new to you.

“So where is Mike?” Karen smiles and gestures her flailing hand to the basement amusingly.

“All of his friends are down there too, they missed you a lot.”

“Will too?” She nods and you cringe when the stairs creaked under your tiptoeing feet.

“What was that?” Lukas’ eyes widen at the thought of something bad, making it harder for you not to laugh.

“Holly, I’ve told you you can’t come- (Y/N)!!” Mike jumps up to hug you, arms around your arms almost like he was caging you in.

“Dude you’re taller then me what the hell?” He smiles and within a flash you’re dragged to the kids and forced to sit down next to Dustin and Will. Dustin smiles and you put an arm around him to hug him. Once he realized your arm isn’t moving anytime soon his cheeks start to heat up, definitely going to be the cause of some teasing later on.

“El, Max, this is my cousin (y/n). She’s awesome.” You smile and pinpoint the girls. Eleven, the savior, the innocent, and Mike’s girlfriend, was wearing an oversized flannel and jeans while her hair was in a short French braid. Max, the redhead, the fireball, and last you checked Lukas’ girlfriend, was fixing up small bits of hair in El’s head that’s in front of her lap while smiling at you quickly before moving her focus back to the task at hand.

“So these are the girlfriends, if y’all wanna go get ice cream and talk about the guys I’m always up for it.” El’s eyebrows furrow while she tilts her head in confusion, making Max mess up a little. She whispers something to Mike, which makes you self conscious of your voice and accent.

“Oh (y/n) is from somewhere else called the south, so she has a southern accent.” She nods although still confused so youve made a mental note that she’ll be asking questions throughout your trip which you don’t mind.

“So were y’all just waiting for me or were y’all doing a campaign because either way here I am and I’m ready to do anything.”

“Well we were talking about Max’s douchebag brother.” Lukas’ rolls his eyes before Max punches him in the arm not too hard but definitely not lightly. Dustin at this point was just wanting to talk to you just you and him the moment he found out you were coming. Growing up, he always had a crush that manifested over the years and you always were nice to him not wanting to hurt his feelings.

“The one that attacked lukas and scared the shit out of everyone?” They nod and you lick your lips before sucking on your teeth harshly.

Every year Mike updated you on the things happening in Hawkins so you knew pretty much everything except maybe some very minor details and that guy Billy has been on your list for as long as he’s been in Hawkins.

“How about we call up Jonathan for a second car, invite Nancy and we all go pay a visit to Steve at his new job?” They all nodded and spoke their own agreements until Mike speaks up.

“Actually El isn’t allowed in the mall, can you drop us off at her house?”

“Of course, I understand. Don’t go pissing off Hopper though.” You wink lighting at the two and Eleven hides in Mike’s neck, Mike flipping you off lightheartedly.

“Nancy! Can you come down to the basement?” She comes down quickly while putting her earrings in.

“What’s up?”

“Wanna call up that boyfriend of yours and we all go pay a visit to Steve?”

“Okay I’ll call him now!” She runs back upstairs, careful not to hurt her ear, and everyone else discusses carpool.

Dustin calls shotgun and sits in your car, turning the radio on his favorite radio station and smiling a big toothless grin at you. Once Mike and El get in the back, you guys pull out of the driveway to get a head start from everyone else.

“So El, do you know your address?”

“Uh, no.” She sheepishly looks down in her lap and furrows her eyebrows.

“What about directions?”

“Go on the main long street and then it’s in the woods.” You have to think hard before nodding and try to listen to her to your best ability.

“Hey I found it.” A smile of accomplishment comes to your face and you look at El through the mirror as she smiles back. Once the car is parked, you ruffle Dustin’s hair and get out with them to walk them to the door.

“Hey Hopper, I’m dropping off kids.”

“(Y/n) I didn’t know you’re in town.” He gets up to greet you with a smile and you return it.

“Yes sir, just got in about an hour ago and now I’m taking kids to get ice cream. Of course I heard El can’t be in super public places so here I am.”

“You always were a good kid. If you need a summer internship or anything I’m sure we can get you something at the police station.”

“Thank you sir, and if you ever need someone to stay with El I’m always happy to!” You shake hands with him and the kids say bye to you before heading into what you assume is El’s room, leaving you to run back to your car.

“How does everyone like you?” He looks in awe, completely enthralled by you.

“Southern charm, honey.” He laughs and you pull out of the driveway to head to the Starcourt Mall.

“So (y/n), would you want to rent a movie and come over to watch it? We could eat popcorn and stuff. You don’t have to I just thoug-“ you cut him have with a small giggle, calming his nerves a little.

“I’d love to Dustin, I missed my partner in crime.” Once you stop at a red light you take a second to look at him before taking his hat and putting it on.

“I think this hat looks pretty good on me” Dustin mumbles something under his breath but you choose to ignore it.

“So any summer plans?”

“I go to Camp Know Where.”

“Aw when are you leaving me?”

“The second week of June. I’ll be back before Fourth of July though!”

“Perfect! So we’re gonna have to all go to the fair together!” He smiles at you with a small blush and you smile back before getting to the mall. You meet up with everyone else at the front entrance and Max looks a little more stone-faced then before.

“What’s wrong Max?”

“I’m an idiot as always.” Lukas sighs and starts walking in.

“Boys are mad dumb it’s okay.” You whisper in an attempt to her cheer up a little and she gives you a small smile.

“Excuse me I’ll have a tall scoop of Harrington.”

“Look, I’m trying to- (y/n)? What are you doing here?” He jumps over the counter and envelops you in a bear hug, the smell of his cologne right in your nose with your head against his chest.

“Well I’m in the mall to get my damn ice cream. Nice sailor suit, captain.” He laughs when you attempt to solute him through the hug and finally lets go to look at you.

“Last time I saw you was the summer before my freshmen year.” A faint pink came to your cheeks remembering the last encounter with Steve Harrington.

“(Y/n), I-I like you....” he closed his eyes to prepare for the rejection, but instead he felt a kiss placed on his cheek rather quickly.

“I like you too Harrington.” He smiled before realization and sadness hit his soft features.

“Why do you have to leave?”

“I start school in a week. I can’t stay forever...” he hugged you so very close, not wanting to let go.

“Steve?”

“Yes?” Your sparkling (e/y) eyes stared into his and suddenly you move closer to each other before sharing your first kiss together.

“Yeah I actually ended up skipping 8th grade, so I graduated with you.”

“Hey can you two stop making goo goo eyes and get us some ice cream?” Dustin says, rolling his eyes making the other kids giggle. You break concentration from the brunette before you, realizing you’re missing two people.

“Will where did Nancy and Johnathan go?” You look around trying to find the two through the crowd of people.

“They went to see some movie they’ve been wanting to see.” A sigh of relief washes over you before you turn back to Steve, grabbing him by the upper arms.

“Well Steve, I’m here all summer. Call the Wheeler house if you want to catch up.” His face lights up before he sighs pretending to check a watch.

“Uh yeah totally, I’m like super busy here most of the time but I’m sure I can make time for you.” You roll your eyes at his antics before giggling and messing with his hair, ordering ice cream for everyone and going back outside.

“You guys ready to go?”

“My brother is gonna be at the Wheeler house looking for me in like half an hour so we should probably leave.” Max sighs making you feel the need to comfort her by rubbing her shoulder.

“Max gets shotgun!” The boys groan at the statement and you make eye contact with Max while giggling.

“So Max, what’s your plans this summer?”

“Hang out with the party, go to the arcade, skate my skateboard, and stay away from the pool.” Your eyebrows scrunch, trying to figure out why.

“How come?”

“Billy works there. He’s a lifeguard and he’s told me not to.”

“Who would put him in charge of people’s lives?”

“Well he used to be a lifeguard in California, a pretty good one too.” Nodding, you think about what he’s like when he’s good at saving lives but bad with people.

When you pull up, a blue Camaro was in your spot in the driveway to you park on the side of the road. Max sighs and gets out first, throwing the ice cream wrapper away.

“Max where the hell were you?” A deep voice says with frustration lacing it, catching you off guard and causing you to flinch.

“You’re early.” Is all she says before getting in the passenger seat and slamming the door.

“You better tell me why you were in a strangers car.”

“I’m not a stranger buddy.” The buddy laced with sarcasm as you get out of your own car, his face changing from frustrated to cocky, a devilish smirk that you can’t help but find attractive coming across his face with the change in attitude.

“Well, I didn’t know it was a pretty stranger.” He leans against his car door and you roll your eyes, walking closer to him while placing your hands on your hips.

“I’m Nancy’s cousin, and I’m way out of your league pretty boy” He’s a bit taken back by your remark but smirks while studying your every movement and detail from top to bottom.

“Not from here, huh? I’m gonna guess....southern?” The pause almost taunting you.

“You bet your sweet ass I am. Now run along and stop yelling at such a good kid. None of these kids deserve what you’ve put them through.” Your facial expressions soften when you make eye contact with the embarrassed ginger.

“Max, when you come over next how about I take you home afterwards?” Your cold stare looks back at his dark eyes and you watch frustration come across his face but his smirk never falters.

“Sounds amazing!” She smiles and he rolls his eyes before slowly stepping towards you.

“I’m sorry but I’m not very comfortable having her in your car. How about we get dinner so I can get to know you better?” He gets closer, looking you into your eyes with those bright blue eyes you almost want to fall into, but instead you push his shoulders back to keep a minimum of 7 feet apart at all times.

“In your dreams lover boy, unless she needs to be at home differently I’ll bring her home at 5pm every time. That way if y’all end up having dinner or something she’s there and you don’t have to worry your pretty little face about picking her up.” He gives up and huffs.

“That works” He gets in the car and sends you one final wink before you flip him off. Once he finally pulls out of your spot, you quickly pull into it and park once more.

“Woah (y/n) you’re the first girl other than Nancy to reject him like that!” You get out of your car, forgetting the other kids were still here. The smile on their faces made your heart swell.

“Well he’s a jerk. Too bad I promised Aunt Karen I’d go to the pool tomorrow.” You all start to walk in, Dustin explaining how you should not go.

“Why would you still go when he’s there? That’s so dumb.”

“What’s dumb?” Karen comes out of the kitchen with her oven mitts on, scaring everyone half to death.

“Oh I told them I’m going to the pool with you and Molly tomorrow and Dustin is flipping out.” She furrows her eyebrows before laughing it off.

“Dustin, she’s going to be with me and/or Molly the entire time. Let her have some fun.”

“Thank you Aunt Karen! Finally someone on my side.” The party sighs and you usher them to go downstairs.

“Dinner is almost ready, I’ll call you guys when it’s closer to time!”

“Thank you aunt Karen!” You close the basement door and sigh.

“Okay, let’s play some DnD!”

—————————————————

A/N-hey y’all, I’m sorry this took longer than I promised. I wanted to make it longer but I have so much trouble writing with my health and trying to do school. I love y’all if you guys wanna be on the taglist then ask! Also I changed the car without realizing lol

Taglist

@dreamwavej

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eleven #dacre montgomery

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Scarification

{Related to/Sequel to This]

The stark realization Whirl couldn’t cry shook the household to it’s foundations. He waved away the concerns, bluntly denying worry until finally he snapped- prosthetic hands curled into fists and molten-gold eye vicious in it’s near-devilish shine.

“I’M FUCKING FINE.”

He wasn’t, but like hell would he admit it.

Perceptor watched, as he always did, while the rest of their odd family unit worried and fretted.

And then, the day came he struck.

“Whirl.”, he called out quietly, “I need a favor.”

“What, shortstack?”

“I have an appointment- it might be a bit of a rough one, and I need someone who’s going to be able to drive if the painkillers don’t wear off in time so that I can be here when the kids get home from school, if it’s no trouble.”

Whirl shrugged, getting to his feet after pulling over his boots and lacing them on, “Sure thing, sweetheart. What kinda appointment is this? It ain’t that hormone doc, is it? I still say they can suck a whole fuck-”

“No, they have since been... handled.”

“...They’re dead ain’t they.”

“Wh-No! I simply transferred my care to a better physician reccomended by Ratchet.”

“...So no one would know if they died, then-”

“YOU CAN’T MURDER MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS.”

“Can so. Anyway, what kinda appointment?”

They had argued and bickered the whole way out to the car, already on the way with Perceptor’s occasional direction before Whirl remembered his initial question. Perceptor blinked, before pulling away the patch over his eye and tucking it into his shirtpocket.

“Scar reduction.”

Whirl raised an eyebrow.

“Due to the nature of my previous injuries, sometimes the procedure becomes a touch invasive. They use various methods to reduce the size and discoloration; and in the event of my chest, on occasion must venture beneath the skin to free up my respiratory system.”

“Eh?”

“They get the spiderwebs out of my airsacs.”

Whirl snorted, but nodded.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Walking into the hospital made him tense soon after. He stayed close to Perceptor’s shoulder, squinting slightly at the doctor who met them- young, bright, but softspoken.

Perceptor spoke with them in low tones before sighing and unbuttoning his shirt. The doctor looked over to Whirl, and tilted their head with a small smile.

“Are you a friend of the patient?”

“Husband.”

The smile never changed, “Oh, excellent. Once today’s procedure is finished I’ll go over the aftercare with you, just in case! I’ve already informed Mister Drift and Doctor Ratchet.”

“Sounds good.”

They turned back to Perceptor, and Whirl’s eye narrowed. He, himself, was covered in scars; probably more that Perceptor given the... surgery he had received in his younger years.

“Mister Whirl? If you have any questions feel free to ask me.”

“Whatcha gonna do to him.”

“Today we are working on evening out the skin over his chest and checking on the healing from the last breathing issue we dealt with. He was having some issues with wheezing and tightness alongside pain and pulling.”

“Mhm, I remember.”

“I’m not sure how much of his history you know-”

“Served with him in the Wreckers, probably know more’n you.”

Something like alarm or relief was suddenly present on their face, “Oh! Oh that is excellent. May I ask you some questions, please?”

The squint continued, “Sure. But if I say I’m not answering, don’t be a shit about it.”

A confused head tilt, before realization and a pleasantly solemn nod, “Of course, sir. Do you know the extent of Mister Perceptor’s torso injuries? Finding any record on it has been... difficult.”

“There isn’t any ‘s why.”, said Whirl easily, “He was his own medic for all of it. If you need details you’ll need to contact Magnus.”

“Oh, wonderful- that will help a LOT in planning further treatment.”

A soft hiss from Perceptor, and they returned their full attention to him. Whirl watched the gentle motions, the careful way they handled Perceptor and his minute pains. And Whirl’s suspicious squint relaxed.

“Also, Mister Whirl- do you know the approximate age of Perceptor’s scarring, by any chance?”

“Kinda. Lessee... It was before Garrus 9, ‘n right after my veto...”

Whirl muttered to himself for a moment, quietly appreciating the patience the doctor showed before he was able to give a fairly close date, “Give or take a month.”

Honest gratitude shone in the doctor’s eyes, “Thank you so much! This explains quite a bit by way of how heavy the scarring is, and how widespread in the chest cavity it’s become. I’ll be sure to notify the head physician about this so we can modify your treatment.”

“Ugh, hopefully I won’t be the frog in the tin again.”

A soft chuckle, “Maybe only once or twice more; we were able to clear out quite a bit.”

“Izzat why you’ve been sleepin’ better Percy?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s good to hear! I’m sure uncle would be pretty upset if I made his old coworkers TOO uncomfortable.”

Whirl paused, “Uncle?”

A sad smile from the doctor before they bustled over to the small counter, plucking their necessities out of cabinets with some kind of muscle memory, “Yes, my uncle Sandstorm.”

“Sandst- oh. Aw geez, kiddo.”

“It’s alright! No need for the sympathy kiddos.”, they asnwered with a slight tightness in their voice, “But my uncle is why I went for becoming a medic, and went specifically full bore on this. Scars, even if they never really go away, deserve to be taken care of. Otherwise... well.”

A solemn silence fell over the room as Whirl and Perceptor quietly remembered old rules. The three D’s: Death, Dishonorable Discharge, and Dementia.

The third was always the worst, and Sandstorm’s case had been a pinnacle of suffering.

“So, now I’m a doctor- and, to be honest, I prefer to work with Wreckers like Mister Perceptor. Speaking of! You’re good for today, just some minor toning and double checking. Here-”

A small container put in Perceptor’s hand.

“This should help with the roughness of the skin around the scars themselves; and will help if there’s any peeling or inflammation. Keep them clean and use the cream you were prescribed last month and on your next appointment we’ll see how far they went.”

They turned to Whirl, and smiled, “And Mister Whirl? If you’d like my help, Mister Perceptor has all my contact information- unless you’d like me to give it to you for privacy’s sake.”

Whirl paused a moment, thinking. Perceptor seemed to not be paying attention, putting his shirt back on and swearing softly as sore hands rebelled against buttons.

Whirl nodded, and whispered, “If y’could, kiddo.”

A smile, a card slipped into Whirl’s hand, and a gentle squeeze of a steel forearm.

“See you soon, Sir.”

Soon turned out to be, ironically and quietly, the day after Perceptor’s appointment. 

Whirl swallowed hard as he was called back, greeted with the same soft smile and a gentle hand on a steel-plated arm.

“Hello Mister Whirl, it’s good to see you.”, they said with their voice calm and smooth, “Now, let’s see what we’re working with- as much as you are currently comfortable with showing me.”

“There’s. There’s a lot, kiddo.”

“I know. But I promise I’m no wallflower.”

Whirl choked and snorted at the almost kid-like grin, “Proud of that huh?”

“Sure am.”

Whirl shook his head, then began tugging his shirt from his body, up and over his head and set beside him in a mound of rumpled fabric. Some of the scars were raised, keyloidal and gnarled- but most were dips and dents in the skin.

With hands washed and gloves on, the doctor began carefully inspecting each one, asking quiet questions about pain and soreness and time and cause and simply listening- even when Whirl’s memory seemed to glitch, when he could remember the aftermath and not the reason.

“Well, we have a few options with a good majority of them. There’s lasering, which is quickest but can have some side effects and pain, there are topical treatments, various kinds of medicated lotions or creams that can be used.”

“Huh, go figure.”

“My major worry, however- Your arms and your eye.”

Silence.

“Mister Whirl, I know what they’re from. And even though I will never be able to understand the kind of pain you went through, I do need to be able to see what they left behind; I can’t change the past, I wish I could, but what I can do is make things less painful in the future.”

“....Nothin’ leaves this room, right?”

“Nope. Not even if Doctor Ratchet tried to badger me out of the info. My lips and records are one hundred percent sealed.”

Whirl chuckled. He knew Ratchet would never try such a thing but... For some reason, the promise helped.

“Watch how I detach the left, so you can help with the right, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

First, he removed the patch from his eye. He winced softly, the sudden chill of the air biting against skin normally covered. The doctor’s eyes widened, and they got to their feet to scurry over to.. the thermostat?

“I’m so sorry! I should’ve turned the heat up a little when you walked in- temperature can sometimes cause soreness in scars usually covered.”

“That why I swell up in the chilly months?”

“It can be a factor, yes.”, they said in concern, “But it can also be a sign of scar tissue reaching far deeper than it should, which is worrying.”

“Well, full eye gouging, so...”

“Mhm, that’d do it.”

Next, the arms- high tech prosthetics developed by Brainstorm in a fit of anger at the status quo. First the left, and then he nodded for help with the right. There was no pity in the doctor’s eyes, simply concern and calculation.

“...This isn’t a good look.”, was the flat answer.

“Y’don’t say.”

“See how the scarring has lumped up here, and here? And calloused over here? That will have to be dealt with or we could be dealing with some sticky problems.”

“Sticky how?”

“Sticky like pus pocket under the skin.”

“Gross- Perce has that issue with his eye socket once, some kinda skin infection.”

“Exactly. Scar tissue is just skin, but.. bassboosted.”

“...You sound like my kid.”

“Well, its a good way of putting it.”, they said with a shrug, “The thickness and uneven development is worrying to say the least- do you have any cushioning in your prosthetics?”

“Yeah?”

“May I look at them?”

“Sure, you’re the doc after all. My husband developed them- Not Perce. Brainstorm.”

The doctor began to meticulously inspect the prosthetics, “I see- would it be alright for me to contact him? The cushioning seems to be slightly breaking down, and I’d like to give him the contact of our prosthetics department to see if there are other materials available.”

“Er, I s’pose. His number’s in my phone- but after I got my arms back on, maybe.”

“Good idea.”

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Brainstorm was startled by Whirl’s sudden homecoming near dinner-hour; raising his eyebrows at the sneaky behavior his husband was exhibiting. Beating down his natural anxious reaction, he crept after him and peered around a doorframe into the... bathroom.

“Now, lessee... She said this one was for-”

“She who?”

Whirl shrieked. Brainstorm crossed his arms, hip cocked and expression flat.

“She who, Whirl.”

“My doc.”

“...Your what?”

“Perce introduced me to the doc who helps with his uh. His scars. She’ll be callin’ you, actually. About my arms. Somethin’ about the cushioning in the prosthetics, and gettin’ you in contact with a buncha medics who had other materials or whatever.”

Brainstorm’s eyes lit up, “Oh, oh really! Excellent, absolutely excellent- It was touch and go with the internal padding, I was terrified of what would happen if it broke down too far-”

Whirl blinked, hanging a towel over the bathroom mirror as he always did, “Huh, really?”

Brainstorm rolled his eyes, “Yes, dork. I love you and don’t want you in pain or sore all the time just to have the ability to flip the bird.”

Whirl fell quiet, humming his acknowledgement before pulling the patch off his eye and tucking it into a drawer, “Also, ‘M not s’posed to wear my patch all the time. Worried about temperature sensitivity and swellin’ and stuff. And they ave me some weird shit to put on the old scars on my stomach and stuff. Said it’ll help with evenin’ them out.”

“Good, you’re always in hell when winter hits and you know it. I’m glad you went and saw a doctor, Whirl.”

Brainstorm snuck in, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to Whirl’s jaw before the phone in his back pocket trilled angrily, “Ah, what do you know- a mysterious caller!”

Whirl watched as Brainstorm answered, chatting animatedly about “developmental roadblocks” and “possible consultancy”. He shook his head, turning back to try and read the tiny print on the container in his hand..

“PERCE, GET IN HERE THREE EYES, I CAN’T SEE THIS SHIT!”

“WATCH WHO YOU CALL THREE EYES, YOU BLOODY SASQUATCH, I’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!” 

#tf #pastelwrites #humanformers #whirl #perceptor #unnamed doctor neice of sandstorm #the beginning of Lets Be Nice To Whirl

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [2/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them. 

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. 

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Somehow, Drake maneuvers through the city without getting a single red light and without going over the speed limit. It wouldn’t surprise Jason if he’s jerry-rigged some sort of portable device to alter traffic routes, but he doesn’t bother to find out.

Instead, he finds himself hoping he’s gotten all this wrong—that it’s another attack, someone using Isabel to get to him, like what the Joker did—

And then he hates himself for thinking that, because the Joker is always the worst-case scenario, and as thrown as Jason is by his growing paranoia, nothing warrants dealing with that lunatic.

So, he stews in silence, choking down two disgusting energy drinks as fast as he can to try to shake free of his alcoholic buzz. To his credit, Drake doesn’t ask him any questions the whole time, though, from the way his eyes keep cutting to him, he wants to. It’s more restraint than Jason would get from the other Bats, he thinks.

They arrive at the hospital, pulling up right in front of the emergency entrance beside the ambulance bay.

“Do you need backup?” Drake asks as Jason he swings himself out of the car, somewhat steadier on his feet.

“No. This ain’t somethin’ I need a partner on,” he replies. “Thanks for the ride and all, but I buzz off.”

“Got it,” Drake says, shifting gears. “Circle the block a few times, just in case.”

He pulls away before Jason can argue with him, the sudden movement causing the car door to slam before Jason can close it.

He scowls after him.

Smart-ass.

Though, now that Jason’s actually at the hospital, the idea of having Red Robin as back-up is a little more palatable.

He shifts, appreciating the comforting weight of his guns in their shoulder holsters—insurance for the possibility that this is all a trap—and then strides through the emergency doors, looking for the reception area or equivalent since he doesn’t have the tolerance to search any directories any time soon. By some miracle, there’s no line of people requiring triage just then, and Jason presents himself to the harried-looking young man at the counter.

“I’m looking for a patient,” he says without preamble. “Isabel Ardila. I got a call from a Dr. Kerry?”

“Kerry…” the man repeats wearily, types something into the computer and says, “That’s Obstetrics. Take the elevator down the hall, maternity ward is on the third floor.”

Maternity ward.

The words echo over and over in his head, each repetition making the pit in his stomach grow.

Don’t know for sure. Could just be a coincidence.

He swallows.

He knows as well as anyone trained Batman that there is no such thing as coincidence.

Numbness and queasiness that has nothing to do with alcohol bleed into him.

The journey to the elevator and upstairs pass in a blur of half-formed thoughts and impressions. His heart seems to be beating a lot louder than it usually does. No sign of trouble that he can see, none of the warning signals that there’s something untoward afoot here.

None of his senses warning him of imminent danger.

Perhaps that’s what makes him the most uneasy.

Before he knows it, he’s standing in front of another reception area, asking another nurse, or receptionist or whatever she is, for Dr. Kerry.

“I’m looking for Isabel Ardila,” he repeats, barely hearing himself above the rushing in his ears. “Where’s her room? I’m her…uh…husband.”

Another flick of a hand across a tablet and the woman’s face goes carefully and deliberately blank.

Shit. Even someone without training can tell that means bad news.

“Someone will be with you in a moment, sir,” she says, going for sympathetic.

He barely has time to go through the half-dozen possible scenarios in his head before a lanky man with thick-rim glasses in a white coat over scrubs approaches.

“I’m Dr. Kerry,” the man says when he gets there, as if Jason couldn’t guess. “I was told you are Ms. Ardila’s husband?”

“Ex,” Jason lies automatically, and it comes out as a croak. “It’s…been almost a year.”

“Ah.” His expression flickers with understanding but remains grim. “I wasn’t sure. Considering you weren’t present when she was admitted, and she didn’t mention you beyond putting your name down as her emergency contact.”

“I’m…just as confused as you are.”

Probably more.

Kerry’s expression is sympathetic but guarded. “I’m sorry. I take it your situation was…not traditional.”

“No. She was…we were…,” Jason says, and then shakes his head in frustration. “Listen, do we need to rehash my personal life, or are you gonna take me to see her?”

Kerry stiffens, and then sighs.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait a moment, Mr. Ardila. In fact, I think you may wish to sit down.”

He gestures to the wall of uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs.

“No,” Jason replies. “I’ve gotten enough bad news in my life to know what that means, so just spit it out.”

“Very well. Then I’m sorry to have to tell you, but she died about an hour ago.”

Jason hears the words, reads the shape of the other man’s mouth as he says them, and yet they don’t penetrate.

He’s no stranger to death or loss, but this somehow…

She got out. We went separate ways, she found someone else, she had a life. She can’t be…goddamn it, she was normal!

“…placental abruption…started hemorrhaging…no way to get the bleeding under control…one in a hundred cases…”

He barely hears any of it.

Jason could understand if it was one of the many associates he’s had over the years—his line of work, death is always a risk. People who work with him know that—Kori and Roy and any or every Bat and…and everyone he has ever worked with. Death is just part of the gig. Going out in a blaze of glory is expected.

Sometimes literal.

Which is perhaps why it’s such a shock to hear it’s happened to someone like Isabel. Someone normal, someone not in the life, except for when he selfishly pulled her into it.

“…can understand the shock this must be. I’m so very sorry.”

“That’s…it wasn’t your fault,” Jason says, only vaguely aware that he’s doing it.  

“The baby, on the other hand, is perfectly healthy.”

His gut clenches like he’s been punched.

“Baby.”

Before, it was just a suspicion. A worry. But that word—baby—it’s solid, it’s real.

“Yes. She’s doing well, despite the circumstances.”

She. There’s a baby. It’s a ‘she’.

Jason’s thoughts are refusing to connect properly for some reason, and it bothers him. He’s taken on entire squadrons of men when he was concussed and barely able to see straight. Fought back the side-effects of the Lazarus Pit, held his own against various members of the All-Caste when under the influence of their psychotropic, hallucination inducing herbal concoctions.

In all those cases he could think through his situation.

But he can’t now.  

“I’m…not sure I should be offering congratulations, though,” the doctor admits. “From the expression on your face, you weren’t aware she was pregnant.”

“…I wasn’t.”

“The contact information we had for you…it was in the forms she signed upon admittance. She named you as the father.”

Jason stares blankly again.

He’s been expecting those words since listening to the message, and yet they still don’t seem entirely real to him.

“Mr. Ardila?”

“I…” Jason swallows, forces his brain to get back in gear. “Look. Isabel and me, we haven’t been together for a while.” Nine months, a while, and for a reason. “So…it could be mine…but it probably isn’t. She was with another guy. I don’t even know his name.”

“I see.” Kerry’s brow wrinkles. “That complicates matters. Ms. Ardila didn’t provide any other contact information for anyone else.”

Jason thinks back to every conversation he and Isabel had, trying to think if there was anything that can help here. He knows her parents are dead, that she never had any siblings; she has family in Columbia, but they’re cousins she’s never even met.

“…Other than you, at the moment, this child has no family. And if you don’t intend to take guardianship of her, a social worker will need to be contacted to handle the case.”

Jason tenses.

“Social worker,” he repeats. “You mean foster care.”

He has sudden flashbacks to angry yelling and a belt across his back, always being hungry and cold and unable to sleep for wondering if tonight would be the night the latest piece of trash foster father decided to slip into his room and pay him a visit.

Kerry must detect the distaste in his words, though not the exact reason behind it, because he says cautiously, “I assure you, it’s a valid option, and in her best interest. Babies—infants especially—have a high probability of being placed. If that’s the option you think best, she likely wouldn’t spend much time there.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that, thoughts still whirling. He remembers being taken away from Wayne manor, spending weeks in a spartan bedroom in Gotham’s Child Welfare Bureau—

It’s not the same. This isn’t the same situation; this is totally different.

So why is he freezing up and unable to make a decision right now?

The doctor is watching him, expectant, and yet Jason’s tongue feels rooted to the roof of his mouth.

“Surely before that becomes an issue, a paternity test might be an idea.”

Jason closes his eyes at the speaker’s words.

He doesn’t even need to turn around. Of course Drake didn’t listen to him; of course, he’s standing right behind Jason.

Probably has been for a while.

Dr. Kerry appears startled.

“M-Mr. Wayne?”

“Drake,” the younger man corrects, striding forward until he is standing beside Jason. He doesn’t look at him, attention fully on the doctor. His expression is mild, but jaw set and eyes calculating. “I’ve been emancipated for a while.”

The doctor visibly recovers himself. “Be that as it may, this isn’t exactly your—”

“Business?” Drake interjects smoothly. “I’m afraid it is since I’m his partner.”

“Partner?”

The slight bulging of the man’s eyes might make Jason laugh if Drake’s words didn’t penetrate his mental fog. He knows the other man means 'partner' in a totally different sense from what the doctor obviously infers from it. Any other day it would be a joke—hell, he might even play along with it, depending on his mood, drag out the joke to see how annoyed the kid could get—

“Great pains have been taken to keep that quiet,” Drake goes on, warning in his voice.

As in, ‘don’t go outing Tim Drake-Wayne to the press if you ever want to see funding to this place ever again’.

There’d that absurd temptation to laugh, again.

“Of c-course, Mr. Drake. Naturally, patient privacy is paramount. But you understand that legally, right now the only one with a say in the matter is Mr. Ardila, and—"

“And whatever his decision, we need all the facts,” Drake continues in a bizarrely reasonable voice. “He’ll submit to a paternity test, and I’ll expect it to be done as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course, it can be rushed if that’s what you—”

“No.”

The doctor and Drake glance at him.

“No,” Jason repeats dimly. “No rushing it. I can wait like a normal person.”

“A standard paternity test takes two to three days,” Kerry says, nervous. “If you want to know as soon as possible—”

“Other people need their tests done more than I do—things that can save people’s lives,” Jason replies. With effort, he turns to face Drake. “And besides, I don’t need any of this on the record so your nosy-ass family finds out about before…before I know what the hell is going on.”

He doesn’t really need to raise an eyebrow to communicate what he really means; Drake knows better than any of the others.

The younger man turns thoughtful for a beat, and after several seconds, nods.

“You’re right,” he allows. Then he turns to Dr. Kerry, who has been watching the interchange with the discomfort of someone watching a marital squabble. “We’ll wait for the results then. In the meantime, we should see the baby.”

Kerry blinks. “What?”

“What?” Jason echoes.

And Drake, polished as ever, offers the doctor a weary yet charming smile that has to have been perfected over years of training. “She just lost her mother, and as uncertain as the situation is, until we know different, Jason is her father.” Jason almost swallows his tongue at those words. “I read somewhere that it’s important for babies to be held, especially so soon after birth.”

Kerry appears a little shell-shocked. “I’ll…I’ll have one of the nurses escort you, then.”

“Thank you. We’ll wait here. I think we’re going to need a moment if you don’t mind.”

“No, of course. I understand. It won’t take long.”

They watch him hurry away.

Jason immediately rounds on Drake.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, panicked. “Why the hell did you even come in here, I told you to go!”

“Since when do I listen to you?” Drake counters, fiddling with something beneath the sleeve of his expensive-looking jacket. “You spent the whole drive looking like you were headed to your own execution. You forget I’ve been around after you’ve died, and it’s not pretty.”

“Something else is about to not be pretty, and it’s your face,” Jason grouses.

“Threaten me or not, I’m trying to help you figure this out without having to wait two days.”

“I said—”

“I know what you said. And I have DNA sequencing tech built into my wrist computer,” Drake tells him, tapping the spot beneath his jacket. “Totally secure system, direct feed to my computer at the Nest, no other Bats involved, and we can know in an hour. I just need to get close enough to the baby for a cheek swab or hair sample.” He cocks his head to one side, challenging. “So are you coming?”

________________________________________________________________

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Next Chapter

#violetsmoak #violet writes #jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #babyfic #accidental baby acquisition #enemies to lovers #jason todd #tim drake

[deadpooly]

Iron Man Bingo 2019

Lmao im literally just only now posting these because im really bad at posting stuff.

Word count: 3250 words

During a mission debrief Tony finds out Peter was hit some truth serum and it comes to light in a rather embarrassing way. Then they find out that the only way they can get rid of the curse is to expose you deepest honest secret to someone out loud. Tony is there to support Peter, and Peter doesn't exactly know his deepest secret. When Peter finds it, it turns out it's not even true.

It started in a mission debrief. After they fought some green magical being and had him meet his fate a bit early, thanks to Thor. The team was fine, only minor injuries, a few bruises and cuts but nothing much. Tony sat beside Peter, or Spider-Man at the table and the kid had his legs resting on the top of the table. Everyone else sat around the table listening to whatever Fury had to say.

He was talking about anything that may have happened that can give S.H.I.E.L.D. more information on what exactly attacked and clean up precautions. The usual stuff these boring debriefs are filled with. Tony just kept glancing around the room every once and a while but he paid attention for the most part, only to set a good example for the kid. Peter looked relaxed and was nodding his head every few minutes and he looked like he was listening. His hands were behind his head and his feet on the table which put him in a comfortable position. They have been sitting around for a long time now and Tony has just been waiting for this to end.

“Stark,” Fury addressed him. “Did you come in contact with anything odd that can give us information on the situation?” he asked and his hands were on his hips and his one eye settled on Tony in a very unsettling way.

“Well I did talk to Clint over the comms a bit, he’s odd.” he replied and when Fury rolled his eyes and gave him an unimpressed look, he still heard laughs from a few of the team members. He sighed and answered again. “Nope nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe the kid saw something though.” then all eyes turned to Spider-Man who was motionless still in his laid back position. “Spidey? You alive there?” Tony waved his hand in front of Spider-Man’s eyes to see if he was awake. When there was no answer he could hear Clint and Sam snicker from the other end of the table and he poked Spidey’s leg and he jumped up onto the ceiling.

“What the f-” the kid yelled as he jumped up. Then his lenses squinted and he realised the situation and stood up from the ceiling. “Oh, haha meeting. Right. I was n-” Peter started to say until his throat started to close up on him and other words were forced out of his mouth. “I was totally sleeping.”

“Yep, just figured that out kid.” Tony laughed at Peter who must be blushing hard under the mask. “Now get off the ceiling you're gonna get footprints up there.”

“Wait, I didn't mean to say that.” Peter said as he jumped down.

“Then why did you say it. Better question, why are you sleeping during a very important debriefing?” Fury questioned the boy, he still looked annoyed as always and it made Peter uncomfortable.

“Because it was boring. I closed my eyes so I didn't have to look at you. Because whenever I look at you I start to think of pirates and when I think of pirates I start to think of Spongebob and Spongebob is funny so while my eyes were closed, I fell asleep.” Peter rambled out and Tony just damn near about burst out laughing but he didn't want the Fury glare on him. Clint, Sam, and Bucky though couldn't contain themselves and started laughing their asses off at the back of the room. “Oh shit, sorry Mr. Fury. I definitely did not mean to say that.” Tony could feel Peter’s blush from under the mask and it was hilarious. 

“Anything else you have to say to me before I close this meeting because we obviously can't keep focused?” Fury looked at Spider-Man and narrowed his eye.

“Do you do your eyebrows just for the satisfaction of doing your hair?” and at that comment the whole room started laughing, well except for Steve because he wants to stay on Fury’s good side.

Fury also decided he was just done and left the room saying something to Steve as he was leaving but Tony didn't care enough to eavesdrop. He did care however, as to why Peter would say such odd things to Fury in an Avengers meeting.

“Oh my god, Mr. Stark I did not mean to say any of that.” Spider-Man said with his hands covering his mouth.

“I was wondering, why would you say that to patchy?” Tony asked a grin still plastered on his face.

“I didn't mean to I swear! I tried to lie for every question but my throat would close and I would say something I didn't mean to.” Peter rushed out, he obviously sounded worried and this made Tony pay more attention to the situation.

“Why is it happening?” Tony asked concerned, and by now the laughter was gone and the other avengers seemed to be trying to listen on their quiet conversation.

“I don't know! It's a truth curse of some kind.” Peter whined. “I'm pretty sure im cursed.” everyone's eyes were on him now and he could hear Clints snickers from across the table. 

“Maybe it’s magic, did anything happen to you during the fight?” Steve spoke up even though he or the others weren't even apart of the conversation but the suggestion helped. “Could we get Doctor Strange to help?”

“No thanks, Mr. Stark doesn't like him.” Peter said, his head still on the desk. “Also, I was hit with a green translucent beam that was heading toward citizens and got a few cuts and bruises but that's it Mr America sir.”

“It must have been the beam, maybe we can get a hold of Dr. Strange for more information.” Steve said. “The creature we fought was using a type of magic according to Thor.”

“Well, sorry kid but I guess we gotta wait.” Tony said before everyone started filing out of the room.

“I guess I'll go home until he can come then.” Spider-Man said before he opened the window and jumped out to swing home.

OoOoOoOoO

“Hey Pete, I thought you went home.” Tony told Peter as he saw the boy walk into his lab.

“Technically Spider-Man went home, so I can be here.” he replied and he pulled up a wheely chair and sat down across from Tony on the other side of his desk.

“We called the wizard while you were out. Unfortunately he will be making a stop here in about maybe an hour.” Tony said while messing around with holograms.

“As much as being cursed to tell the truth is really cool, I would like to be able to lie every once and awhile.” Peter had a bouncy ball and was throwing it against the wall and catching it when it bounced back.

“Oh really? And what is it you would like to lie about?” Tony questioned with a curious smirk on his face when he looked at Peter.

“The fact that I skip out on medical check ups and don't tell you my full injuries.” Peter’s mouth said without missing a beat. “Mother fudgsicles.” Peter’s ball bounced passed him when he didn't catch it.

“Maybe this truth curse is helpful hm?”

“Whatever, im going to make myself a sandwich.” Peter grumbled as he walked over to his lonely bouncy ball, picked it up and left the room while dribbling it on the floor.

“We are very much going to touch on this subject soon Pete.” Tony called out to him as the boy left the room swiftly.

OoOoOoOoO

“Oh hey Pete!” Clint greeted Peter when he saw Stark’s intern enter the kitchen. “Didja see the fight on tv?”

“Yeah, looked pretty intense! Mr. Stark told me Spider-Man got an honesty curse on him.” was what Peter wanted to say but different words found their way out.

“I was there actually so I didn't need to watch it on tv.” shit.

“Huh, really? Well, I gotta go to the main room. Gandalf is paying a visit and the Avengers gotta be present.” the archer said as he walked out of the room while grabbing an apple from a fruit basket on the counter.

“Kay, bye Bird number one.” the boy answered while pulling out the bread, breathing a sigh of relief that there aren't any more questions.

OoOoOoOoO

This time Peter was sitting on the couch in the main room. Clint wasn't here so he is obviously late. So Peter put on the tv and a few iCarly reruns were on so that’s the channel he chose. Currently everything seemed peaceful, he had his sandwich, nobody was there to ask him questions, and he is 96% sure he finished any school assignments that were due.

Tony was awesome as always and the avengers haven't connected the dots between him being and intern and Spider-Man yet, not that it really mattered. He was pretty sure he could trust the avengers with his secret identity since they all know each other well and hopefully won't be in any fights any time soon where they would out him. At this point it's just a fun game.

He also hope this truth serum thing won't have any negative effect on him or it wears off soon because this would be a pain in the ass to deal with at school. Also, according to the clock it has been close to an hour so he should be expecting the crowd to show soon, so Peter jumped off the couch and ran to his room to put on his Spider-Man suit. 

OoOoOoOoO

It was a rather short hour wait until Dr. Strange ‘teleported’ into the middle of the avengers living space. Everyone was alerted and were sitting around on the couches in seconds waiting to see what the problem was. Peter though wasn't really impressed because now his reruns of iCarly were being interrupted. But Mr. Stark, the show isn't even on Netflix anymore. Tony remembered hearing the boy complain one day, but he still seemed happy to see the wizard though. So that’s good, kind of.

“What is the issue now, Stark.” Strange asked Tony. Strange was just standing there doing nothing waiting for Tony to answer.

“Well long story short the kid got stuck with a truth curse.” he explained as simply as he could.

“Is that it?” he asked and when all he got as an answer was Tony saying ‘yup.’ Stephen rolled his eyes and just raised his hands and moved them in a pattern that made it look like he was doing some kind of spell. “That doesn't seem like anything serious so I should be able to figure out the issue soon. Do you know what happened that may have caused this?” he asked Tony.

“Pfft, I don't know. I think it was the wizard monster we fought. Spidey got hit with some translucent beam thing. Is it permanent?” Tony asked. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was obviously trying to annoy Strange. “Because that would suck. This is why I hate magic.”

“Are you incapable of shutting your mouth for one second while I try to do a reverse spell?” he questioned, his tone was exasperated and tired.

“Alright then, just fix the kid.” Dr. Strange’s hands were being waved in circles and motions that Tony couldn't follow and there was a yellow glow to his hands but that didn't matter. The other avengers were surprisingly silent as they watched from the couch, but every once and a while Clint would whisper something to Nat and make her smile, Thor looked like he’d rather be elsewhere and Steve actually looked concerned for Peter. Then Stephen dropped his hands and sighed.

“Well, what's the verdict Doctor?” Steve asked from the couch.

“Its an enchanted serum, there was a type of liquid in the beam that obviously touched Spider-Man’s skin,” he then turned to Peter (who was in his spidey suit) to address the kid. “It could have been condensation but it still affected you. It compels you to speak the truth when faced with an honest question.” he explained.

“Yeah, tell us something we don't know.” Tony scoffed. “Does it wear off?”

“Yes.” there were sighs of relief coming from Tony, Steve and even Thor but Clint whined jokingly towards Spider-Man. “But, it only wears off when you confess your deepest secret that is true to the person or persons it regards. If they are dead, then you have to ride out the spell.”

“What?” Tony’s hands dropped to his sides and he started walking towards the sorcerer. “You mean he has to tell someone his deepest secret? What kind of pointless spell is this?” he threw his hands up waiting for a response. “This is an invasion of his privacy!” Tony complained on Peter’s behalf. Peter however seemed to be unbothered on the couch. 

“From what I can tell, its meant to tear loved ones apart, or destroy empires from something harmless, yet very dangerous at the same time. It’s a very easy trick that can work if you are not careful.” Stephen said before he backed away to an open space by the window. “I assume this is the end of our meeting, any concerns can go through to Wong.” then he raised his hands and used the sling ring to open a doorway to the Sanctum.

“Thank you Doctor, we appreciate the help.” Steve said earnestly from the couch, and Stephen gave him a nod before walking through and closing the portal behind him.

“Wow that was really quick, do you think he had a date he needed to get to?” Peter asked once he left.

“You seem really bothered that you have to confess your deepest secret to someone.” Sam said, he seemed amused. He was probably hoping to find something out about the boy he could use against him.

“Eh, I have a lot of secrets and some of them don't matter. Examples would be: My identity, the full fight with the vulture, dying etcetera.” Peter waved his hand around while he talked in a nonchalonce way as if it didn't really matter. “It all just depends on who im telling it to.”

“So we get to find out about your identity?” Clint asked with a lot of hope lacing his voice.

“I think I would rather leave that for you to find out.”

“What’s your real name?” Bucky asked he seemed bored because he was playing around on a phone and Steve elbowed his side and that made him let out an ‘oof’.

“Do not answer that!” Tony instantly yelled walking over to Spider-Man who was sitting on the couch still and he tapped him on the shoulder in the motion to follow him.

“Wait Mr. Stark, we should do a Q and A!” Spider-Man excitedly announced as he was walking out behind Tony.

“We are absolutely not doing that.”

OoOoOoOoO

“Alright kid, this needs to come off or unfortunate things will happen, so who are you going to tell.” Tony asked Peter, who pulled his mask off once they got down to his lab.

“I actually don't know.”

“Do you even know your darkest secret?” Tony asked raising an eyebrow.

“I can guess?” Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I mean, the majority of them are kept from yo-” Peter was about to ramble before he cut himself off. “Frickin truth serum.” he mumbled under his breath with a wince.

“Wow, okay take a guess then.” Tony leaned back in his seat and placed his hands folded in his lap. “I will not interrupt no matter how stupid or insane they are.”

“Okay. Oof I guess.” Peter started. “I broke one of your Iron Man suits and fixed it before you got back, I think it was the Mark 13, the silver one? I also spilled coffee on some of your paperwork before but I got help from Friday to replace it.”

“Wow okay, then tell me exactly what happened that gives you nightmares after the vulture incident.” Tony said waiting for a reply on whether it would be honest or not.

“First of all, how do you even know that? Second he dropped a building on me before we crashed the plane.” Peter winced. “Well I guess I didn't find my deepest secret yet.”

Tony stared at Peter with his eyebrows raised to his hairline and he was honestly surprised and kind of mad at how he only now found out.

“As much as I very much want to talk about maybe a few thousand things that you have done we need to get this done so continue.” Tony said after a while of just processing what Peter said. “Is there anything that you would not ever tell anyone else?” and after he said that Peter’s face fell and his eyes narrowed down to the floor.

“I- um.” Peter started and he coughed a bit from feeling his throat close up.

“Is this about superhero-ing? School? Maybe you could narrow it down for me.” Tony asked and he leaned forward and his voice was soft because he could tell that Peter was going to have a hard time about this. Peter shook his head at Tony’s suggestions and opened his mouth to try again.

“It’s um, about Uncle Ben actually.” his voice started to shake.

“Oh.” was all Tony said. He knew exactly who Ben was and his significance in Peter’s life. He also knew that this was definitely going to be really hard for Peter to say so he got out of his chair and made his way over to Peter and he bend down on his knees so he could be eye level with the boy. “Hey, you can tell me right? The rules say that right?” and Peter nodded and it looked like he was going to choke and his eyes were definitely watering.

“I- it was my fault.” and oh, Tony wasn't expecting that. “He died because of me Mr. Stark.”

“Peter, it wasn't your fault. I can tell you that right now.”

“But he was there and I led him out, I didn't do anything and he did but I couldt stop him and-” Peter’s voice broke and a tear streamed down his face. He could feel his throat clear up and he could breathe but this topic always made him feel like he was suffocating.

“Hey, Parker it wasn't you, I can't tell you that right now. Did you want him to die?” Tony asked and Peter shook his head. “Well then I can damn well assure you that you never would have killed him, and it wasn't your fault. He made that choice to do the right thing, and doing the right thing always comes with consequences.” Tony brought Peter into a hug and ran his fingers through his curls and he felt a single tear soak into his thin shirt. When he pulled back Peter seemed better than before, well as better as he could be after talking about a heavy topic.

“Hey.” he started softly. “Do you wanna go get some coffee flavored ice cream?” he asked. And Peter just nodded his head with a smile on his face and a small ‘yeah’.

Tony laughed and stood up.

“That’s a lie Peter. You hate coffee flavored ice cream.” Tony smiled down at the boy who gave a small smile.

“Well thank you for the offer I guess.” Peter told Tony as he stood up out of his chair and walked up to the billionaire to give him another shorter hug. “And for helping me too.”

“Hey Pete, it turns out that the truth serum made you confess a secret that wasn't even true.” Tony smiled and he ruffled Peter’s hair.

“Ironic isn't it?” the boy replied. “But can we actually go and get ice cream? Without Clint though?”

“Of course kiddo.”

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #really slight angst #mostly funny fluff #ironmanbingo3000 #ironmanbingo2019

[georgialouisea]

Oh, Sam.

Pairing - Sam x Reader, Dean (ocs)

Warnings - Swearing, mild angst. minor character deaths, fluff.

Written for - @spnaubingo & @spnfluffbingo2019

Squares filled - Fake Relationship & Friends to Lovers

SPN AU Bingo      SPN Fluff Bingo

Walking through the bunker it was far too quiet, moving towards the war room you were about to pr gun from the waistband of your jeans when you saw the boys sat at the library table. “What’s going on?” You asked dropping the bag of takeaway burgers down in front of Dean. “There.”

“Extra-”

“Extra onions, yes you freak.”

“I’m not a, whatever, we’ve got a case.”

“So why are you two sat here looking like you broke something.”

“What?” Sam’s brow furrowed as he looked up at you. “We’re not.”

“Well, what are we waiting for let’s go.”

“Just one thing before we hit the road.” Dean stood up taking a peak in the bag.

“Which is?”

“Which one of us do you want to marry?”

“Excuse me?”

“The case.” Sam closed his laptop as he stood up. “This thing is killing newlyweds and making them look like accidents, so you’ll need to pretend to be married to one of us.”

“Why can’t you two just be married? It’s twenty nineteen.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “He’s my brother.”

“So? There’s nothing that either of you are going to do to me that you wouldn’t do to each other.”

“For God sake, Y/N, just pick one of us and shut up.” Dean groaned.

“Sam! I pick Sam, you’re already annoying me, it’d be harder to make lovey eyes at you when I wanna smack you.”

“Sorted.” Dean winked at his brother as he grabbed the bag of takeout off the table. “Get packed, we’re leaving in ten.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam walked towards you resting his hand on your arm.

“For what? Your brother being a jackass? If you had to apologise every time he’s a jerk you’d have no time for anything else.”

He chuckled as his hand dropped from your arm. “If you don’t want to do this, we can find a way around it.”

“Sam, it’s fine, I’m never going to say no to spending more time with you, c’mon let’s get packed.”

---

“You’re clear on the plan?” Sam asked again as he pulled in towards the 5-star hotel that was the furthest thing from your usual digs.

“Yep, the second we leave this car we’re married and only shop talk when we meet up with Dean at the motel.”

Pulling the car up to a stop he killed the engine. “You got it.” He smiled at you as he got out of the car, walking around the Impala he opened the car door for you, holding his hand out he helped you out of the car, leaning down you grabbed your purse off the bench as Sam pulled the suitcase out of the trunk. Handing the keys over to the valet his hand took yours as you walked into the lobby, stopping when you reached the front desk. “Hi, we’re here to check in.”

“Names?” The receptionist asked with a smile.

“Mr and Mrs Butler.” Sam’s hand left yours to wrap around your waist.

“The newlyweds?”

“That’s us?” You nodded.

“You’re all booked in here are your key cards, you’re in the honeymoon suite on the ninth floor, enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you.” Taking the key cards from her she gave you a small nod before she moved to answer the phone. “Honeymoon suite?” You asked as you looked up at Sam.

“What? You deserve the best honey.” He smiled down at you. “Let’s go check this out.”

The suite was enormous it had a full kitchen and lounge with double doors that opened up to the bedroom where you could see a king size bed with a heart made up of petals on the sheets.

“This place is amazing.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sam chuckled. “Wow.”

“Hey, look champagne.” Pulling the bottle out of the ice bucket on the counter you wiggled your eyebrows at Sam.

“No, Y/N, we’re -”

“On our honeymoon, there’s nothing we can do tonight, we can explore tomorrow.” You cut him off. “So we’re gonna drink.”

Sam watched you pour the champagne into two glasses. “Okay, we’ll drink.” Taking one of the glasses from you he leaned down kissing your cheek.

--

Opening your eyes as you came to you were laying on Sam’s chest, his arm rested around your waist, he was still asleep underneath you. Rolling away from him you couldn’t help but groan as your head pounded with every blink, the last thing you really remembered was whiskey and more than one glass. Sitting up you looked down at Sam, your palm rested on his chest. “Sammy, wake up.” Patting his chest.

“What?” He grunted opening his eyes he looked up at you. “What time is it?” He asked quickly closing his eyes again, reaching a hand up to cover his eyes.

His phone was on the nightstand reaching out for it your fingertips barely grazed the side of the table, straddling his waist you grabbed his phone checking the time. “It’s ten twenty.” Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand you lay back on top of him feeling his arm wrap around your waist again.

“Fucking, my head hurts.” He mumbled against your cheek.

“Mine too.” Closing your eyes you nuzzled against his chest. “Do you want to try to make it to breakfast?”

“Yeah.” He sighed.

It took longer than it should have for you both to make it downstairs, Sam has said a firm no when you asked if you could wear sunglasses inside. Walking through the lobby holding Sam’s hand you kept your eyes to the ground as you tried to block out as much light as possible.

“It was a complete blood bath.” Looking up your eyes followed the female voice to land on a maid being interviewed by a detective.

Freezing you squeezed Sam’s hand hard. “What?” He asked looking down at you. Nodding towards the officer and maid on the couch in the lobby you could tell when his brain started to catch up.

“That will be all.” The detective nodded, the woman got up off the couch and walked away from you, Sam took a step towards her, your hand gently slapped his chest stopping him, letting go of his hand you walked towards her.

“What happened?” Sam asked as you walked towards him.

Taking his hand you looked up at him, trying to feign shock as you spoke. “Someone murdered a couple here last night.”

“What?” Sam’s brow creased, his hungover Winchester brain not remembering the whole no shop talk brief.

“Mr and Mrs Butler, I can assure you what happened last night was a freak incident, this establishment is very secure I can assure you.” A man in a suit who you’d never seen before approached you.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Sam asked wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“My apologies Sir, I’m Adrian Glenn, the owner of the hotel, I was present yesterday when you checked in you two were so absorbed in each other you probably didn’t even take in that I was there, I do hope you enjoyed the complimentary champagne.”

“We did thank you.” You smiled as you nodded at him.

Sam’s grip on your hip tightened. “Thank you, Mr Glenn, for the reassurance, obviously if there was a danger you’d let us know.”

“Of course Mr Butler, I hope you both enjoy your day.”

You tried to ignore the way your skin crawled as you walked away from him. “Sammy.” You whispered.

“I know.” He muttered. “I know.”

--

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked before the motel door was even shut behind you.

“The hotel owner is a creep.”

“And another couple is dead.” Dean raised a brow at the two of you.”

“Well yeah, there’s that.” You gave a small shrug as you sat down on the empty bed.

“Why didn’t it come after you two? You’re in the honeymoon suite for Christ sake.”

“I don’t know.” Sam sighed as he sat opposite his brother at the small table.

“Maybe it doesn’t think you’re really a couple.” Dean looked from you to his brother raising an eyebrow at him.

“Shut up.” Sam snapped. “There is something sketchy about the owner.”

“So we’re not any closer and we have two more corpses.”

“If you wanted to do this yourself you should’ve spoken up.” You stood up and walked towards Sam your hand resting on his shoulder. “Can we go back now? We really need to properly check the place out.”

“Yeah, come on.” Standing up Sam’s hand took yours.

“Act more coupley!” Dean called out as Sam shut the motel door behind him.

You stopped walking halfway to the car. “What is it?” Sam asked looking down at you.

“Maybe he’s right.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, maybe we do need to act more in love, try to lure it our way.”

“Okay, yeah we’ll give that a shot.” Sam nodded as he opened the car door. “More in love got it.”

-

You spent the whole day practically joined to Sam’s hip as you as subtly as possible scoped out as much of the hotel as you could.

“Well, I feel amazing.” You rolled your shoulders as Sam unlocked the door.

“Did we really need to check out the spa?”

“What you didn’t enjoy the couples massage? You can’t tell me you don’t feel better.”

“Well, yeah.” He smiled at you as he opened the door.

“See.” Winking at him you walked into your room. “Needed to check it out.”

“Get dressed we’re going for dinner.”

“We are?” You asked with a smile pressing yourself against his chest your fingers danced up his chest.

“Yes, we are.” His arm wrapped around your waist.

Leaning up your lips brushed against his. “Okay.” Pecking his lips you pulled away with a smile on your face, walking into the bedroom you glanced back to see Sam watching your every move.

Shutting the bathroom door behind you, your back rested flat against it. Squeezing your eyes shut you took a deep breath, you’d just kissed your best friend, the man you’d had a crush on since you’d met him years ago. Sure it fell in with the whole fake newlywed thing but you’d just kissed him.

-

“Wow.” Sam breathed out as you emerged from the bathroom.

“What?” You looked up at him as he stood up from the bed.

“You look gorgeous.” He smiled as he walked towards you in a black suit you’d never seen him in before.

“Thanks you too, new suit?”

“Yeah, actually.” Looking down at himself he smoothed down the black tie he was wearing. “Do you like it?” He asked you, when he looked up, his cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink.

“I love it.” Grabbing your clutch off the bed Sam’s eyes never left your body. “What?” You looked at him quickly checking your dress wasn’t tucked into your underwear. “What is it?”

“Why have I never seen you in that before?” He walked towards you his hands resting on your hips.

“It’s nothing special.” Glancing down at the burgundy v neck dress you were wearing it really wasn’t special, sure it was one of your nicer dresses that hugged your curves and showed off your legs, but the way Sam was looking at you made your heart beat a little faster.

“Oh trust me, it’s special, let’s go get something to eat.” Taking your hand he led you out of your room.

--

Sitting down opposite Sam as you ate you realised how unusual your life really was, you hadn’t had dinner like this for a long time. Your mealtimes were usually at the library table, in a motel room, cheap diner or in the back seat of baby, always with both boys, never just you and Sam and definitely not like this. You’d completely forgotten about the hunt, you were completely lost in Sam Winchester.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” The lady on the table next to you leaned towards you. “But the way you two look at each other, God if my Martin ever looked at he that way my knees would buckle.” She pulled her eyes away from Sam to glance at the man sat opposite her. “I just have to know how did you two meet? I bet it was a real fairytale.”

Sam cleared his throat as he reached out taking your hand in his with a smile. “Well, she actually saved my life.”

The woman next to you gasped, your eyes never left Sam’s as he spoke, you silently wondered how he was going to tell this story without the werewolves and life-threatening injuries.

“We’re FBI agents, I was working on a case with my partner we’d spent a few days researching, on stakeouts and we thought we knew what we were walking into, we thought it was one guy but it turned out to be more like twelve, there was some miscommunication at the bureau and Y/N ended up on the case too, she’d seen us go in guns blazing and came to check we’d got the guy, if she hadn’t walked in when she did, I’d be dead, my partner would be too.” He smiled at you giving your hand a squeeze.

His story was really close to the truth you didn’t know someone was already working the werewolf case until you saw the Winchesters creep into the abandoned house on the outskirts of town. You were going to leave them to it until you heard one of them scream. Without any real thought you cocked your gun and ran in, dropping 3 wolves right off the bat, Sam was propped up against a wall clutching at his shoulder firing at the wolves lurching towards him. Dean was knocked out on the floor, blood pouring from his head. Between you and a Winchester with only one good arm you managed to take down the last 4 wolves. Moving towards Sam he shook his head when you tried to help him, begging for you to see to his brother first. It took longer than it should have to get them both back to the motel, one look at Sam’s torn up shoulder you knew you had your work cut out for you. You spent all night nursing the Winchester’s back to health and you hadn’t left their sides since.

“And when did you know you loved her?” The stranger asked Sam.

“We were at home, we didn’t have any cases so we had some downtime all of us decided to stay home, I remember how quiet it was when I was walking around, I found you huddled up on the couch under a blanket watching one of your favourite movies Titanic.” Sam wasn’t talking to the stranger anymore he was talking to you. “I watched you for a few minutes, you didn’t know I was there, which now I realise sounds creepy but I’d never seen you look so beautiful, the light from the TV the way it illuminated your face and then you started to mouth the words as you watched it.”

“You knocked on the door and asked if I wanted some company.” You remembered the day from nearly 3 years ago clear as day.

“You said you’d never turn down an offer of my company, we spent all evening and all night watching movies together, you fell asleep against my chest and I never wanted to let you go, carrying you to bed that night and leaving you alone was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I just wanted to sleep next to you, hold you close.”

“Mr Butler.” The waiter interrupted Sam.

“Yes?” Sam looked up at him with a scowl.

“Would you like the bill charged to your room?”

“Yes, please and have someone bring another bottle of wine up to our room please?” Standing up he held a hand out towards you helping you to your feet, he smiled at the couple next to you. “It was lovely to meet you both, we hope you have a lovely evening.” Grabbing the half-empty bottle from the ice bucket Sam took your hand leading you out of the restaurant towards the elevators.

Once safely inside your suite, Sam put the bottle down on the counter top in the kitchen, pulling two glasses out of the cupboard he quickly filled them both, he held one out towards you, by the time you’d got a grip on it Sam had downed his glass and was pouring a second. Setting your glass down your hand covered Sam’s, putting the bottle down he looked down at you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“Did you mean what you said downstairs?” Your hand ran up his arm and across his shoulder resting on the back of his neck as your fingertips played with the strands of hair they could reach.

Taking a step closer towards you his arm wrapped around your waist. “Yes.”

“Sammy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I love you too.” Leaning up your lips brushed against his, Sam’s arm around your waist pulling you closer to him kissing you hard he lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist he carried you towards the bedroom, dropping you onto the bed he smiled down at you.

“Tell me.”

“I love you, Sam.”

“I love you, Y/N, I have for so long -”

Leaning up you cut him off desperate to feel his lips against yours.

--

A shrill beep woke you, Sam’s arms were wrapped around your waist his breath hot against your neck as he slept, closing your eyes you ignored the noise. Two more beeps had Sam shifting behind you, rolling away from you, you could hear his palm patting across the nightstand in search of his phone.

“What’s going on?” You asked rolling over in his arms, your palm resting against his chest.

“Dean.” He grunted squinting at his phone in the darkness.

“What? What’s going on? Does he need us?” You sat up trying to read the messages on Sam’s phone.

“No.”

“What’s he said?”

Sam chuckled. “In his exact words, salt and burned the bones two nights ago obviously didn’t work and was tied to something, the painting in the dining room was painted by her husband who cheated on her in the first week of their marriage, the dead couple is on me not you two and you should enjoy the rest of the week in the honeymoon suite now the place isn’t haunted, oh and the hotel owner is just a creep no mojo, no witchiness, just a creep.”

“Nice to know it’s all taken care of.” You smiled up at Sam, your palm cupping his cheek.

Sam’s phone binged again.

“Do I want to know what that said?” You asked as you kissed up his chest.

“No, no you don’t, but we have the honeymoon suite to ourselves for the next week, what will we do with ourselves?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“Oh, do you now?”

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[cloudynames]

Troublemaker

i promised i would be back!! please enjoy this yangyang post <3 also please keep hendery in your thoughts because he hurt his waist by falling :(( let’s thank winwin for taking care of him though!

Word Count: 1,838

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive thoughts

lets get it!!

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

Living in a dusty desert with scorching weather all year round was definitely not the top of your desired places to live. The summers were like Hell on Earth with sticky thighs and peeling skin if you didn’t apply enough sunscreen. If you thought the winters were better, it was only a couple of degrees lower and instead you were left wishfully thinking of snowy mountains. However, your wonderful college just so happened to border the desert and because most people didn’t want to work in the sandy wasteland, finding a job within the college town was near impossible. Jobs like dog-walking were available but walking every day in the 100° Fahrenheit for three hours was something you would despise. With how much you go out with your friends or not realizing how expensive rent is, you needed to make money because even with your parents donating funds, it still wasn’t enough.

Thankfully, a Motel 6 opened up barely half an hour away from campus and your parents had blessed you with a car just before you left for college. It was awkward trying to become accustomed how proper and prim you had to act since you were just college kid working at the dingy motel for a couple of extra dollars. Even though it was only a part time job, you’ve learned much about the importance of appearances. Wearing a stuffy black, blazer and a white button down every other day has people glancing at you differently and even letting you have coffee on the house at your favorite cafe. Many people thought you were an important business person but in reality, it was a young adult playing dress up.

Another important value your job has taught you was the importance of not judging the guests that walk in during different times of the day, the exact opposite for yourself. You’ve seen truck drivers, couples, business people, and more walk into the small Motel 6. No matter what state they seem to be in, whether it be exhausted, giddy, or anguished, you always smiled politely and asked, “What kind of room would you like to rent and for how long?” The fewer questions asked, the better night it would be.

Working at the Motel 6 has never made you seriously question the safety of your surroundings but has definitely almost made you press the, ‘Call police,’ button under the receptionist’s desk. You’ve seen someone come in with shovel which made you question their intentions until you realized they were a construction worker. After that brief encounter, you’re not worried about the people who walk in.

Until a cool, May night presents you with a boy with ruffled, messy brown hair and a glimmer in his eyes which can only be described as dangerous. When he walked in, you couldn’t help but stare blankly at him. He stands in front of you, rocking back and forth and whistling mindlessly to some popular tune on the radio.

“How may I help you, sir?” You question, quirking an eyebrow at him. He was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt with dirty combat boots. He played with the leather jacket wrapped around his waist, also while displaying his spiky belt. If trouble had a name, it would be his.

“It’s Yangyang. I want your cheapest room for one night.” His accent rings out in the air and you stare at him quietly. There is only one conclusion you’ve come to: a one night stand.

“May I see some form of identification?”

He slides an international driver’s license onto the granite counter and you carefully examine the card. ‘Liu Yangyang’ is the same age as you and seems to be from Germany. You give his license back after typing in the required information within the computer. Asking minor questions, you notice how his eyes glimmer or how he nervously played with a tuft of his hair. Silently giggling to yourself, you acknowledged how adorable he was. He seemed like trouble but that didn’t mean you couldn’t think the bad boy was attractive.

After handing him a key card, you wished him a pleasant night as he went back out the entrance, probably to hit up the bars and bring someone back with him. That thought doesn’t settle well in your stomach and you find yourself pouting because of fate. You wouldn’t have normally cared but this was the first guy you’ve found cute in a while. Shrugging it off, you dismissed the thought. You were just deprived of any romance with juggling a job and school. All your heart and brain wanted was someone to kick back with and the first guy you thought was attractive walked into the motel lobby meant your heart had to jump at the thought.

Yangyang comes back quicker than expected without an escort. Instead, he carries a guitar case, an amp, and a backpack. Wordlessly, you send a prayer up to God and hope that Yangyang isn’t going to be the spawn of Satan and play his guitar at nearly ten o’clock. He waves you a goodbye as he ascends up the elevator, almost dropping the amp in the process. Shyly, you wave back and turn back to your homework that you’ve hidden under the receptionist desk.

An hour passes by and nobody has called the desk or came into the motel. Internally, you’re grateful but your gut tells you that your night isn’t going to be that uneventful. Just as you were finishing up your calculus work, the painful ringing of the desk phone disturbs your relaxed mind. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the phone and with a cheery voice, you speak, “Hello, this is Motel 6’s receptionist desk. How may I help you?” A gruff voice greets you, “Yeah, hello. There’s this annoying ass kid playing the guitar on my floor and I want him to shut the fuck up or I’ll request a refund!” He nearly screams into the phone, making you move the device away from your ear.

“Yes, I will talk to him immediately. Thank you for notifying the desk.” Without waiting for his response, you slam down the phone. You already know who’s causing trouble.

Liu Yangyang.

As you call one of the other receptionists in the break room to cover for you while you deliver a stern talking to the troublesome guest, you notice the phone ring again.

Bracing yourself mentally, you pick up the phone and are immediately greeted with, “Front desk? Yeah, deal with that kid! I can’t sleep and I have an important business meeting tomorrow. I’ll have this entire motel bulldozed before you can even blink!” And the line ends with a buzz.

The clacking of your shoes on the tiles reflect the beating in your heart as you go up to the floor above to encounter the hot topic of the night. As you stare at room ‘116,’ you feel anxiety build up and you realize you’re hyping yourself over nothing. Shaking all feelings away, you quickly rap your knuckles on the dark wooden door.

Yangyang opens the door soon after, sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his neck and he smiles breathlessly at you.

“Hi, what's up?” He asks casually, holding his guitar in one hand and holding the door open with the other hand. With his whole room on display, you noticed how his room seems to be disheveled with garbage thrown everywhere. Pity fills in your chest for the maids tomorrow but you’ve come here with a mission.

“We’ve received a few calls for noise complaints. Would you care to explain the situation?”

Suddenly, it clicks in his head and he attempts to hide the guitar behind his body. “Uh, nope. No clue. I haven’t heard anything.”

Eyes narrowing, you step closer to him and get a whaff of his intoxicating cologne but it doesn’t stop your task at hand.

“Liar. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Keep making noise and we’ll be more than happy to kick you out.” With that, you whip your body around and start stomping off to the elevators once more. You didn’t fail to catch his whisper afterwards as well, “Woah, that was hot.”

Taking your seat at your desk once more, you fan your hands in front of your cheeks as an attempt to calm yourself down. Playing on your phone served as a good distraction as soon it was twelve and your other coworker has come in to take over your shift. “Hi Johnny,” you greet him, writing down notes of things that have happened throughout the night.

He replies back and before he can talk your ear off, you shove him into the breakroom so he can get settled and take over your shift. Just as he comes out of the breakroom, the phone rings once more, almost mocking you. Dread sets in your stomach and you hope it’s someone calling for an extra pillow. Slowly picking up the phone, you say, “Hello, front desk. How may we help you tonight?”

The same gruff voice from just an hour earlier assaults your ear with profanities and something along the lines of, “That stupid fucking boy is making more noise! I can’t stand it! Listen--”

“Yes sir--” You cut him off before abruptly continuing, “We’ll talk to him once more,” you end the call and sit back in your chair, groaning loudly.

Johnny affectionately pats your head. “Just threaten him and then you can go home.”

Home did sound nice after a night like this. Grumbling and hauling your backpack upstairs irritated you immensely. This time, you weren’t going to be so nice to this boy. You thought he got the message originally but clearly not. He wasn’t going to ruin your night anymore. You had no sleep yet and were looking forward to bingeing a new show since you had no class the next day.

Knocking on the door, you braced yourself for a long, insulting speech about his lack of manners and how he would be a lot cuter if he learned some.

The culprit opens the door and brightly grins.

“Oh good! My plan worked! Now you can talk to me but it looks like you’re reprimanding me so nobody will suspect anything!” With that, he grabs your arm and yanks you into the room. You’ll never admit to him once you’re in the room that you liked the feeling of his warmth on your arm.

What were you saying about a deprived love life again?

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

“Liu Yangyang,” you state, licking the vanilla cone he bought you before it begins to drip all over your hand.

“Yes, baby?” He replies, brushing the hair out of your eyes and also taking a lick of his own cone.

“Why were you at the motel that day?”

“Oh, I left my dorm to practice because my roommates were complaining about the noise. The adorable receptionist was a bonus that night.” “You’re so irritating.”

“But you love it.”

#nct #nct scnearios #nct imagines #nct headcanon #nct yangyang #wayv yangyang #wayv #nct liu yangyang #wayv liu yangyang #nct 2019 #kpop #writing #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #cpop #fluff #nct fluff

[friking-awsom-kitten]

What ghost up must come down IASA Chapter 1

Danny rotated his shoulder with a wince and fixed his blurry gaze on the ghost. He held up a finger and shot the ghost down. It wasn't a really powerful ghost of any special kind. It shouldn't be that hard to beat.

But the last three sleepless nights and mental strain had him and his body exhausted.

It's all because of those exams, Danny grumbled internally. He was certain the teachers had ganged up against him to cluster all the tests in one week. The term 'free time' had become a stranger to him the past week.

Danny sighed deeply as he held up a shield, too lazy to dodge a shot. Maybe he should take some time off and go punch the arcade games instead of ghosts and textbooks.

Something prickled his sixth sense and Danny looked over his shoulder to see two GIW jets come into sight.

Shit, he thought, why now. He hadn't seen those guys in weeks. They weren't a daily occurrence, thank Clockwork, but how bad could his luck be that they chose this particular day to annoy him.

Danny decided to end the fight quickly. For both his sake and the ghost's.

He flew at the ghost rapidly. "Hey dude. What about we let this die?" He threw a roundhouse kick and the ghost was thrown away. "Seriously!" He exclaimed as the ghost recovered quickly and shot multiple shots at Phantom. "You have ghost to calm down!"

The ghost groaned. "Do you ever stop?" To which Danny grinned. "Over my dead body."

"Watch out, Phantom!"

Danny got the warning too late and was hit on the back of his knee. He yelped, wondering why they couldn't hit the other leg. This one already had a massive bruise on it. He put up a shield and groaned when a few other strong shots hit it.

The GIW seemed to be updating their weapons.

Phantom scowled and swirled around, lighting his hands up with ice. "Common, guys, can't you see I'm busy?! Can we reschedule so I can kick your white clad ass another time?" He aimed and successfully encased one of the planes with ice.

The jet flew out of control when the driver's vision was obscured. Suddenly it stopped jolting around and landed harmlessly, though rather roughly.

After all, Phantom wasn't a bad guy. He landed the jet with telekinesis before returning his attention to the battle.

A small crowd had started to form a bit away. Danny barely spotted a camera crew setting up their equipment. His gaze was directed to the large RV revving up the driveway. Could this day get any worse?

He'd have to take them out one at a time.

The boy decided to concentrate on the most dangerous threat first. He tried a few shots, which the GIW jet expertly dodged.

Danny squeaked when a shot exploded a few feet from where he stood. He glared at the ghost, who shook his head with wide eyes and pointed at something. There stood Jack holding up a large weapon.

Jack held up a fist. "Stay where you are, spook!"

Danny rolled his eyes and winced when it sent a jolt of pain in his head. He'd been fighting a headache since yesterday. Sam said it was because of his lack of rest.

You know what? Baby steps.

The ghost boy flew up and punched the ghost hard.

"Why did you punch me!" The specter complained. "They did it."

"You were annoying me first," Danny countered. "You started this, and I don't know about you but I always finish what I started. Now get in the stupid thermos."

"You keep that thing away from me!" The ghost chose to escape into the sky and Danny followed swiftly. He appeared in front of him and waved as he sucked the yowling spirit into the thermos. "That's done. Let's get out of here."

Maddie squinted into the hole on top of her gun, aiming at the ghost boy. He was distracted. This was her chance. However, something paused her finger on the trigger.

Phantom looked so exhausted and so drained out. He was dripping a bit of ectoplasm and he almost dropped the thermos from his shaking hands. Maddie didn't know why this made her hesitate.

She lowered the gun slightly and her eyebrows furrowed.

The woman's eyes suddenly widened and out of instinct she shouted a warning.

Danny gasped when he heard something behind him. The sound of a machine charging up.

He slowly turned around to come eye to eye with Agent O, who smirked and pushed a button. This caused the giant canon under the jet to light up.

The crowd below watched in horror as their favorite hero was enveloped in light coming from the gun and rocketed down to the ground. They expected him to catch himself and float back up. To shake it off like he had done so many times before.

However Danny Phantom crashed. Hard.

A small crater formed under his unmoving body.

The Fentons spent no time to rush forward and catch the ghost boy off-guard. The camera crew also hurried up, as did some other people, to check on the boy.

They stared at the unconscious teen with bathed breath.

Jack frowned in confusion. What just happened? "Hey spook!-" He wasn't sure how to continue. Ask him if he was ok? That seemed like such a stupid suggestion.

Suddenly Phantom flashed.

The people watching almost thought he was fading? Was this how ghosts died??

What really happened was much worse.

When the flash disappeared....so did Danny Phantom.

In his place was another, just as famous (for different reasons), teenage boy.

An unconscious, bleeding and injured Danny Fenton met their mortified gazes.

"No," Maddie whispered, tears prickling her eyes. "Da..Danny?"

Jack's arms went slack and his weapon clattered on the ground.

Everyone's shock was interrupted by a loud announcement.

They looked up to see the jet aiming another type of gun at the boy on the ground. Jack and Maddie recognized it as a restraining gun. "Step away from the Specimen," Agent O said through a speaker.

"What?!" Maddie shouted in disbelief. "What are you planning on doing with MY son?!"

"This is a rare creature and he will be brought in by the GIW to be examined."

"Examined?!" A civilian exclaimed in disbelief. "He's just a kid!"

"We are from the government," was the agent's answer, one he used frequently. "Stand back as I immobilize him. He must be prepared for experiments. Lots and lots of painful experiments." He charged up the gun.

Maddie ran up and stood over her son, gun pointed to counterattack. "You will not lay one hand on him!!" She cried, tears streaming from her face from shock and rage at man above her.

"You have no say in this, Fenton." Agent O said irritably. He wished that woman would just move over. The specimen was within his grasp. So close. He would not let it go. "Move over or I will call for backup."

Jack placed his large body between the jet and his son. "Let them come," he growled. "You filthy scumbags will have to go over my corpse to get him."

Agent O sighed as if this was a minor inconvenience. He reached for his communicator.

"And mine!" A woman in her early twenties stepped closer to Danny.

"And mine!" An old man waved a fist as he joined the group.

"Who said anything about my corpse!!" And enraged goth screamed up at the insecure GIW jet. "I'll be dancing over yours if you come within a five mile radius of Danny!"

Agent O pursed his lips as his eyes took in the crowd yelling and shaking their fists at him. He turned on the communicator. "Requesting assistance. The Specimen seems to be of more value than anticipated." He winced when a shoe clanged against his window. "However the civilians seem...reluctant to let it go."

"Describe reluctant," a voice from the communicator asked.

"One threw a shoe at the ship."

The voice hummed.

"A muddy one," Agent O clarified, making the voice gasp.

Agent O took a peek at the crowd. "I am grateful there isn't a tomato stand near here."

"This is the twentieth century. There are no tomato stands in the middle of the road in a city like this one."

"Believe me. Tomato stands are always at the ready when there's a riot," the Agent commented drily.

"Is that the term you would use?"

Agent O winced when a shot from the Fentons scorched his ship. "Definitely."

"Are you able to restrain them?"

"Cameras are present."

There was a small silence. "Retreat," the voice said with as much regret as Agent O felt. But he obeyed and powered the gun down as he directed the jet to base.

The boss of his sector continued. "When you're back, come to my office and relay all the information you have on the specimen."

"Yes sir."

#danny phantom #danny fenton #im a superhero apparently #chapter one #ghosts #ghost zone #sam manson #tucker foley #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #just all the fentons #amnesiac!Danny #thats the tag of this book