#{ Every time I reply to this thread my head explodes. In a very good way. }

[die-schwanenkoenigin]

AO3 Wrapped 2024

I was tagged by @lilolilyr to post my AO3 stats for 2024. Thank you!! <3

Please note that all titles/words highlighted in colors are clickable!

Works published: 19 total, 13 of which were for Hacks, and six of which were for The Devil Wears Prada.

Word count: 96,568. Shame I didn't reach 100k I guess (I was SO close, too), but oh well.

Kudos: 3,427 as of Jan 6, 2025

Hits: 67,797

Bookmarks: 445

Subsciptions: 401

Most popular by kudos: Partners, at 601. Oh, hey, it's reached 600 kudos since I last checked!!! The first fic of mine to go over that threshold :')

Most hits: the joys of spring, at a whopping 18,445! The hit count is so high that it's even closing in on my second most popular Camren fic (19,463 hits). Still, it'll be a long way to go to get to the top spot, where my most popular Camren fic currently sits at 27,821 hits. At the same time, it's been less than a year for this one, and seven for the others, soooo... who knows what'll happen!

Longest: Once again, the answer is the joys of spring! the joys of spring has exactly 30,000 words in 30 chapters. (My greatest accomplishment in 2024 tbh lol.)

Shortest: Well, technically speaking, it's Exclusive at 50 words. It's not a fic, though. It's a manip, and the article I wrote to go along with it is just... an afterthought. Which is why I'm going to go with That's not very in love with me of you at 500 words.

Most comments: the joys of spring once again, which got 145 comment threads.

Favorite comment: This one from @prozac-shaped-urn, hands down.

Wow!! I never thought I'd see the day where someone would give me a run for my money in the smut department, but you absolutely have!!! I'm highly impressed! The em dashes really add a heightened level of anticipation to the scene, and I like the hyperfocus on internal senses. The imagery of galaxies behind Ava's eyes speaks to the full-body domino effect of pleasure. It's very well executed. I'm over here taking deep breaths and consciously unclenching my jaw. Ya got me hot and bothered, ngl. Ava swallows. Blood rushes to her head, and she knows without a doubt that her face is red. She’s hot, burning hot, and she can’t pay attention long enough to hear the rest of what Deborah is saying. Not shaming, then. Accusing? Is Deborah accusing her of— Ava stares ahead and licks her lips. It’s all she can do to try not to be too obvious about the absolute state of her underwear. She’s so fucking—why is this not turning her off? Why is being scolded by Deborah doing it for her? “Come.” “Huh?” The way I also had the 'Huh?' reaction to reading 'Come' skldjfalkdjsf It spreads from her core to her stomach, to her thighs. And then to her heart, and to her arms, to her legs and head and her everything. / Ava swears something bursts behind her eyes. It might be a firework. It might be a meteor. It might be an entire fucking galaxy. / The galaxy behind her eyes explodes into a wall of white while her body pulses, her stomach contracting along with those pulses. This focus on internal senses is what I wish everyone would include in their smut. But writing erotica is a skill! It takes time to learn how to meld senses together to create an immersive reading experience, and I think you've done that well. Consider me a fan! <3

I didn't reply to it for days on end when I got it, I just wanted to read it over and over again. And I'm still not over it. Like. I'm deserving of this much praise????? Me???? Ahhsbjhdsvjcjdhb!!!!!

Fics that made me cry: The one fic that had any angst in it, Shattered Remains. Writing it felt really good. I loved it. But it did also make me very emotional.

Fics that made me smile: I don't really remember anything but the one fic that literally cracked me up every single time I attempted to read or edit it. Keepin' You Hangin' On The Telephone. My fiancée and I (jokingly, at first) tried coming up with absolutely ridiculous euphemisms for the vulva and vagina and after telling @wilfriede about it, they made me keep every single one of them. Without tagging the fic as crack, or warning people about it. And, honestly? It was kind of a blast. People liked it despite the horrendous euphemisms, and we three got a huge kick out of it and laughed about it for ages lol.

Gifts: Five! That's all the gifts I've ever received! :))) I got two Hacks fics from @lilolilyr, and three podfics from @wilfriede! Two of those were my own works, which made the gifts even more exciting! Like. Their Podfic of Bitte bitte mich is literally perfect. It's exactly how I imagined it and how I would have read it myself. (And you should totally listen to it.)

Collaborations: One! My first collaboration ever, in fact! Dare Me to Tell You the Truth was written by me, recorded by @wilfriede and me, and edited by @wilfriede for Pod Together 2024! As well as my first collab, this was also my first ever podfic. For either of those, I couldn't have asked for a better person to work with, honestly. @wilfriede -- thank you for your enthusiasm, your excitement, and your patience! You're awesome! (As are all of your podfics!)

Events: As mentioned above, Pod Together 2024. My first (and only) event :)

Word count read: I didn't read much, and I also don't keep track of my read fics. Probably somewhere between 150k and 250k, if that.

Bookmarks: I've added eight this year, making it a grand total of 27.

Once again, thank you very much to @lilolilyr for tagging me :)

I'm going to go ahead now and tag @prozac-shaped-urn, @wilfriede, @nic-writes-sometimes and @nachdenklich-tj. I can't think of anyone else who's a writer!!!!! If you see this and want to post your stats, though, go right ahead!! <3

[seita]

— better than (m.)

pairing : iwaizumi/reader

wordcount : 3.087

genre : fluff, smut, pwp

cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi

tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3

+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.

When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.

You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.

The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.

The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.

“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”

The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.

There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.

You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.

For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.

It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.

You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.

You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.

That's when it occurred to you.

You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.

When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.

You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.

Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.

Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.

Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.

You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.

You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.

His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”

You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?

He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”

You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.

You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.

“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”

“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”

“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”

You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”

“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.

“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.

“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”

Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.

As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.

“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”

“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”

Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”

“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”

He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.

You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.

“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”

You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.

You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”

“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”

As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.

“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”

He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.

“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”

Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.

“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”

“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”

Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”

You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.

He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.

But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.

“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.

“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”

He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”

His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.

“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”

Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.

He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.

“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”

You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”

You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.

The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.

Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.

“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.

“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”

“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.

“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.

Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.

He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”

You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”

“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.

He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.

He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.

“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.

“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.

He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”

Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”

You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost

[ginwalt]

kiss my bruises better (Natasha x Wanda x Fem!Reader)

Summary: When Reader gets injured during a battle, it is up to her girlfriends Natasha and Wanda to mother hen her back to health.

Warnings: Violence and mentions of injuries in the beginning. Other than that just pure fluff.

A/N: Guess who got COVID and now has way too much free time??? :,)

It started with Fury sending you on an undercover mission alongside Natasha, Wanda, and Steve. Your objective was simple: obtain the dangerous alien artifact from the terrorist organization's lair and get your asses it back to Avenger's Tower. Nothing you and the rest had not dealt with before. However, there was one thing you four did not anticipate. There were hundreds of the organization's agents crawling around the base. Every corner they snuck around, there was another group of grunts patrolling. As a field scout, you were used to sneaking around; however, this was on another level. By the time Steve signaled for you to return to the meeting spot over the comms, you had already been spotted.

The group of half a dozen agents took one look at you before charging forward with their alien weaponry. One of them, a burly man in an all-black armored jumpsuit, hit a large button on a security panel near the ventilation shaft you had shimmied out from minutes prior. Being a scout, you were only equipped with the bare minimum of weapons a dagger, semi-lethal taser, and a small crossbow. In other words: not weapons one would use in a 1-versus-6 fight. Letting out a grunt of frustration as a loud alarm started to blare, you shouted a warning to Cap and your girlfriends' over the comms.

You leaped backward, away from a meaty fist that had just threatened to shatter your jaw into splinters. Flicking open the holster that held your taser, you slammed the muzzle of the taser gun into the side of the man's head and released the probes. The man convulsed, falling to the tile with a heavy thud. Another agent, a towering woman, let out a shout of outrage in a language you assumed to be Russian. She and the four other remaining against charged at you, weapons at the ready. You stumbled blindly backward, hoping to reach a staircase, window, elevator, anything. Unfortunately, luck was not on your side that day. Your back collided violently with the paneled wall behind you.

A curse that could make a sailor blush fell from your lips as you palmed around frantically for your dagger. The blue and black blade was an anniversary gift courtesy of Natasha, an odd gift to be sure; however, it was about as romantic as the assassin got. Grasping it firmly in your sweaty grip, you blindly swung at one of the grunts before you. The pommel collided with his nose in an upward arch, causing the man to fall to the ground, blood dripping from his now crooked nose. Apparently, the swing was hard enough for his nasal bone to fracture into his brain.

You took a step to sprint through the opening the dead man had cleared for you but, the burly woman seemed to beat you to the punch. She grabbed violently at your arm, twisting it at an odd angle behind your back. You slammed face-first into the wall behind you, causing your nose and lip to start leaking blood at an alarming pace. You groaned and squirmed, trying to free yourself from her iron fists.

"Stop struggling, bitch," she ordered, slamming your head against the solid paneling of the wall once more. Pain blossomed along the crown of your skull, and your vision started to blur in response. "Who sent you," she snarled against your ear.

You spat out the pool of blood that had collected in your mouth at another agent's feet, "Fuck you," you snarled, your voice muffled from being shoved against the wall.

The agent you had spat at raked the brass knuckles clenched on his fingers along your arm. Deep cuts spilled over with even more crimson. You let out a strangled scream as he twisted them further into the new cuts. The woman kneed her leg against your arm with a sickening pop. Your vision danced with black and white dots as pain shot through your body. You were about to scream when a loud bang sounded from behind the woman and her cronies. She let you go in shock, causing you to fall to the ground next to the dead agent. You moaned in pain, curling your now broken arm against your chest.

"Y/n!" A familiar voice shouted from the other end of the hall. It sounded fuzzy as if someone had shoved headphones over your ears. You gritted your teeth and forced your increasingly heavy head to look at the source of the noise. Through the dots dancing in your blurring vision, you were able to make out a furious Wanda, next to her an equally angry Natasha. You opened your mouth to reply when only a pained wheeze escaped. A boot was pressing against your back, applying pressure to your fractured forearm. You let out a scream of agony as tears spilled down your face. Before your consciousness gave way, you beheld Wanda exploding in a bright ball of scarlet towards you and the agents.

"...turn the TV down, you're going to wake her." You slowly came back to yourself at the sound of voices around you. Your mind was swimming in fuzzy warmth, a dull ache exploding in through your temples like a timpani. Despite the pain that seemed to radiate through every inch of your body, you were also strangely cozy. A soft warmth was wrapped around you like a cocoon, not to mention the pillow that seemed to meld with your head and abdomen. You hummed contently and nuzzled further into the cushion.

"Are you sure she's okay?" A concerned voice rang from directly above you. The voice was warm and familiar, like a well-worn sweater. "She's been knocked out for almost four hours. Plus, my legs are starting to go numb."

An amused huff sounded from behind you, "Banner said the painkillers would make her drowsy."

"Yeah, but... four hours? What if something is wrong with her?"

"You know Y/n, she does things on her own terms. She will only wake up when it suits her." Both the voices laughed at that remark. You fought the urge to huff in protest; you weren't that stubborn. The pillow beneath you shook with the light laughter and shifted. You furrowed your brows; cushions didn't usually chuckle. You grumbled at the disturbance and cracked your eyes open. Your so-called pillow had caramel red hair and a black Def Leppard t-shirt.

"Wanda?" you mumbled drowsily. You lifted your head slowly from the place it was resting against her chest. Your face flushed slightly at the thought of using her breasts as a pillow for so long.

She smiled warmly and lifted an arm that had been resting protectively along your back to stroke your hair. Her other hand had been tracing circles along your side for the past few minutes. "Good afternoon, sleeping beauty."

"Where are we?" You attempted to look around; however, your head exploded with pain at the effort. Wanda seemed to notice your wince because she carefully guided your head to lay against her chest once more.

"We are back at the tower. You slept the entire flight home," Natasha, who must be on the other side of the couch, replied.

You groaned, "Everything hurts."

"Being jumped by a group of terrorist agents will do that to you," the assassin replied sarcastically. You kicked lightly at the girl, your foot nudging her thigh. She laughed snarkily and shoved lightly at your foot.

"Nat, stop teasing her," Wanda chided playfully, threading her fingers through your hair. You practically purred at the attention, nuzzling your face against her. She pressed a soft kiss to your aching temple in response.

"Why am I getting lectured?" Natasha protested in mock indignation.

"Because you are not the one hopped up on painkillers."

"But I am the one who detained the agent that had broken her arm. Surely that deserves some credit."

Your eyes shot open once more at the mention of the mission, "Shit, the terrorists. What happened to them? Is everyone okay?" You jolted up, attempting to sit up fully. Natasha was at your side in an instant, hand resting on your shoulder.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We're fine; we handled them," she soothed, rubbing your back gently. "Everyone's safe, I promise."

You relaxed slightly, "And the artifact?" the hesitance was evident in your voice.

Natasha sighed kissed your cheek in reassurance, "We were not able to save you and obtain the alien artifact. They were on high alert at that point, and it was too risky."

You pursed your lips, shoulders drooping in shame. They had failed because of you. Dangerous technology continued to threaten the world because you were unable to do your job.

Wanda must have read your mind because she pulled you closer to her and placed a kiss on top of your head. "Hey, this isn't your fault. None of us knew that the compound would be so well protected."

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Your right arm, the one the woman broke, was wrapped in a thick plaster cast the color of a hospital gown. Your other arm was dressed in a thick layer of bandages, covering the jagged cuts left by the bronze knuckles.

"Honey, there was no way we could have known," Wanda murmured, using a finger to lift your chin. "If anything, it's our fault for not being there in time. If something were to happen to you, I don't know what I would do." She placed a protective arm around your back as if she was shielding you from an invisible threat.

"You did very well defending her," Natasha soothed, kissing Wanda's cheek. She turned to you with a smirk, "You should have seen her; I thought she was going to send the whole building crashing down with how angry she was."

You smiled, "I'm sure you two did great, as always."

"She's right though, this wasn't your fault, nor was it a significant loss. Rogers is already with Stark and Banner at the location of the artifact. They plan on regrouping back here before following through with the next phase of the plan."

You sighed in relief, "That's good. So when do we go through with the next step?"

Wanda scrunched her nose and smiled, "It's adorable that you think you are going to be anywhere near the next phase of the plan."

"You can't be serious. I'm perfectly fine!" You insisted. Natasha raised her brow and pressed a finger against the bandages on your left arm. You winced and let out a quiet yelp before batting her hand away. "Okay, I may be a bit injured, but other than that, I'm okay to fight."

"Y/n, you have a minor concussion, a broken arm, and a broken nose," Wanda pointed out, her accent thick with concern.

"Nothing I hadn't had before," you shrugged.

"Y/n don't start," Natasha warned, standing from her place at your side. She strode out of your line of view.

"Where are you going?" You whined, not wanting her to leave.

"I'm just getting you water, Babe. Don't worry, I will be right back." You nodded, settling back against your other girlfriend. Wanda reached over you to pull the blankets further up your body. You hummed contently and sighed against her chest. Wanda was always warm; her skin seemed to radiate a cozy heat that filled you with a sense of peace. Her protective arms were coiled firmly around your waist.

"How are you doing, Honey?" Wanda asked, nuzzling against the top of your head.

"Tired," you complained, hiding your face away in the crook of her neck.

"I think I should talk to Bruce before allowing him to hop my girlfriend up on painkillers. He gave you a pretty high dose." Wanda tilted her head so that her cheek was resting against your hair. Her hair had a lingering smell of citrus and lavender that set off the butterflies in your stomach. You hummed and inhaled once more. Wanda chuckled, her smirk evident in her voice, "Are you smelling my hair?"

You paused, "...No."

The witch's shoulders shook with laughter, jostling you slightly. "You know I can read minds, right? I know you're lying."

You huffed and burrowed your face further into her neck, "Asshole."

She kissed the top of your head, "Love you too."

"I'm back," Natasha announced, striding towards the couch.

You turned away from Wanda's neck so that your back was against her front. The assassin sat down on the coffee table next to you, holding a glass of water. You licked your chapped lips and reached out to take the drink. Natasha raised a brow and pulled the cup further away from you. A frown formed on your lips, realizing what she wanted. "Oh, come on, Nat. I don't need help drinking water," You rolled your eyes.

Natasha tsked, "I'm not risking it, you may still be a bit sluggish from the meds, and I don't want you spilling all over yourself and Wanda," She tucked a strand of hair from your forehead. "Come on, Baby. Let us take care of you."

Biting your lip, you nodded exasperatedly, "Fine." Natasha carefully placed the lip of the glass near your mouth and tipped a bit of water out. This went on until only a quarter of the glass was left. You had not realized how thirsty you were until you saw the glass of water. "Thank you," your eyelids drooped, feeling tired once more.

"You should rest some more," Wanda murmured.

"But, I just woke up," you argued, words slurred with sleep.

"And if you ever want to go on another mission again, you will take the time to rest and recover," Natasha insisted, tucking the blanket around your body. She settled at your feet, pulling them into her lap. You opened your mouth to argue; however, Wanda had started stroking your hair once more. The words were lost in your throat as your eyes slipped shut. The warmth from both your girlfriend and the blanket seemed to wash over you in waves. The last thing you felt was a soft hand tracing patterns along your arm.

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

Care and Feeding of Little Sisters (Part Two)

Sickness in Zaun was, generally, Kind of a Big Deal. Doctors were hard to find, medicine was hard to come by, and a small cut or cold could get infected or worsen rapidly.

Vi herself had pneumonia as a kid, nearly died from it. She didn't really remember it; just had flashes, dream-like memories between the fever and the coughing and the restless, nightmare riddled sleep. You had to be careful. You had to be aware. Still, it was also a rough life, and injuries and sickness did happen. It wasn't always the end of the world, and Vander had once spouted, in all his wisdom, that you weren't a parent (or a big sister, Vi,) until you'd been puked on at least once. Vi's most vivid (sadly) memory of this was the very first time Powder decided she wanted to stay awake as long as the older kids in the pack. She couldn't even really remember why, or what was going on, or why the hell she'd agreed; but Powder had loaded up on every hidden sweet and sugary treat she had squirreled away.

Vi had always known Powder was a little packrat that way, but never realized how bad it was until her sister was practically vibrating through the roof. Vaguely concerned, mostly amused, she'd watched Powder bounce from one interest to the other, chattering a million miles a minute, and told Mylo (twice) to stop throwing a ball for her to chase. Just because she was a hyperactive puppy- just because it was sort of funny how easily amused she was- did not mean that it was ok. By the end of the night, Powder had still passed out before the rest of them, and Vi sat, legs curled under her, on the couch; one hand absently threaded through Powder's hair, the other propping up her chin as she listened to Mylo talk, contentedly sleepy and warm and peaceful. Her boys were good, she could hear Vander whistling to himself in the front, and Powder was a happy kitten, a heavy warm weight against her with a little smile on her face. "Guys." Vander's voice, drifting to them through the left-open door, "head on to bed, huh? Early start tomorrow." "'K." She stretched, yawned, pushed a hand through her hair. "You heard him, boys." She made a 'shoo' motion with one hand, turning away from where they were picking themselves up to consider how to do this. Eventually, she decided the best way would be just to bridal carry her sister. "Powpow." She warned, gently, before shifting to lift Powder into her lap. "C'mon, let's go to bed." "Mmmffff'i." Came the reply, which was maybe supposed to be her name? Vi chuckled as Powder wrapped her arms around her big sister's neck, chin on her shoulder. She started up the steps, out of the room, to head towards their rooms; she was halfway there, just behind Claggor, when Powder made a noise like a whump with a hairball. "Pow?" She paused, confused and concerned. "Everything ok?" Claggor turned, halfway, to glance back at them; but Vi only had eyes for Powder, who had made the noise again, her stomach convulsing. "I- don't- something's wrong with Pow-" That was as far as she got before her little sister's eyes snapped open and she retched. It happened in slow-motion, and it happened in a heartbeat, all at the same time. She saw what was about to occur but could do nothing to stop it. Horror filled Mylo's eyes. Claggor jumped backwards. Powder exploded. Vomit spilled down Vi's back, over her shoulder, splattered the stairs and ground at her feet, soaked into her pants. Vi, even at fourteen, was tall and broad, and Powder was high enough in the air for it to splatter, covering poor Claggor, the wall, the railing. It got in Vi's hair, on her face, on her arms. "Oh my God!" Mylo yelped, half-laughing, half horrified, his eyes taking up his entire face. "That's like her entire body weight-" "Not helping, Mylo!" Vi's voice did not hit an octave that was more suited to Powder. She did not squeak, her voice did not break, and she did not scream when Powder erupted a second time, covering her in fresh puke. "Where did she get more?-" "Mylo!! Get Vander!" The scrawny little rat of a boy raced off to do just that, and Claggor, hands groping vainly, finally spoke. "Put her down, Vi-" But Powder tightened her grip as Round Three rang in, sobbing. "No! No, don't wanna, Vi, Vi-" "Shhh, shhh, I've got you, I'm not letting go-" She was going to puke. She was going to puke and then they'd just be in this Puke Cycle and they'd be trapped down here, forever, vomiting on each other until someone drowned- "I can't. Besides, it'll just get everywhere else if I move heeeeerrrr oh my God oh my God oh my God-" She took shallow, harsh breaths, screwing her eyes shut. It was fine. It was fine. Just puke. Not that bad. Just Powder. She'd changed her diapers. Pow'd peed in Vi's mouth once when she was still a tiny baby. She'd cleaned up diarrea and food art and worse. She could handle this. "What in the hell is going on down here?"

Still, she'd never been so glad to hear Vander's voice. ______________________________________ Powder's absolutely epic empty wasn't the only time any of them wound up covered in puke, though. Sometimes, Vi remembered Sevika when she was still Aunt Sevika. She remembered it with bitter anger and resentment but also something soft and sad, too; Sevika, who told her once that she was beautiful even though she wasn't willowy and slim and delicate like the pretty girls she'd seen in Piltover that morning.

Who would, when in a really good mood, sometimes swing Vi up on her shoulders like she was nothing and let her ride around up there, or would carry Powder around under her arm and call her a little monkey. Vi trained with and under Vander; but Sevika became her main sparring partner very quickly after she learned the basics. She had less of a tendancy to hold back and even less tendancy to take it easy; Vander would supervise, coach, instruct from the sidelines but rarely, if ever, step in. He would wait with sweat towels and drinks and generally, the matches were short and intense. Today, though, Vi was holding her own against the larger woman (which, of course, had Vander heckling from the peanut gallery about Sevika getting tagged by a fifteen year old.) (Which, of course, had Sevika snorting like an irritated horse and going after the teen harder.) Sweating, aching, Vi bent over her knees, soaked hair in her face, each breath sending pain through bruised ribs. She hurt, but she had only tapped out once (three times finished the match) and she was determined not to end up on the floor again; she just needed to catch her breath. "You ok, Pink?" Vander called, lightly, as she moved over to get a drink from the bottle she'd brought with her. "Good?" "Yeah, 'M good." "Thatta girl." She smiled, despite the exhaustion, despite the ache in her bones, despite the way her stomach churned and protested dangerously as she put the drink down, stretched and rolled her neck and shoulders. He was proud of her, praising her, and as pathetic as it may have sounded, have been- that was all she wanted. She stepped up for round two, taking her stance, readying herself. Vander gave the 'go', and Sevika came at her like a bull. The first few minutes of the fight were perfect. Riding high on Vander's praise and determined to impress him, she watched Sevika carefully, stayed defensive ("Good girl. Good. Slow and steady now-"), and moved in when she saw Sevika drop her arm for an opening. (It may have been on purpose, looking back on it, either to give Sevika her own opening or to give Vi a small hint.) Either way, she went in for it, using her smaller size to her advantage to go for the quick jab. She underestimated (or was tricked), though, and Sevika swiveled at the last second, a fist connecting solidly with Vi's stomach. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. Even as an adult, looking back at this with bitterness and resentment, she knew Sevika was pulling her punches. She was teaching, not trying to hurt. Still, Sevika's pulled punches were solid, hard enough to bruise, and precise. The impact caused Vi's already roiling stomach to rebel instantly. (Later, Vander would say he'd seen what was happening moments before it was too late to stop it. He could do nothing but watch it horror.) The blow connected. Vi lurched with the impact, winded. Her stomach clenched. Heat boiled up out of her throat before she was even fully aware of what was happening, and in the next five seconds, Sevika was liberally covered in child vomit from a good three feet away. So was the floor, Vi herself, and Vander's shoes. A long moment of silence filled the air as Vi stood, weaving, staring in abject shock and horror at what had just come out of her and the sheer violence with which it had done so. She had not given her body permission to do that, thank you very much. "...are. You. Fucking. Kidding me?" Sevika's voice was tight, terse, and Vi could hear her breathing in tight, controlled bursts. It was the first sound to return to Vi's ears. The second was Vander. Vander, who was cackling uncontrollably. "This is not funny, you washed up old-" "Watch your mouth, kid." Vander's laughter didn't stop, even as he warned Sevika down. Vi realized her was holding a sweat towel out to the older woman, who took it with a sharp, terse motion. "You knew that was going to happen-" "I saw the trajectory, couldn't stop it." Vander wiped his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. "Maybe I should have waited before

sending her back in?" "Oh, ya think? God, this is-" "A kid. Congrats, Auntie Sevika, you're offically a parent." "She is not my kid, I am not her Aunt, and I am going to ki-" "Can I...go sit down?" Vi interrupted, weakly. The smell was making her stomach roll again, and she shame-facedly beat away her tears with hard blinks. She was humiliated, and it was Vander who first realized just how upset she was and stopped laughing almost immediatly. "Oh, c'mon, kiddo, I'll help you get cleaned up." He offered, gently, pulling out another towel to, without even flinching, wipe away the tears and vomit on her face. Even Sevika sighed, and softened, and rolled her eyes. "Cheap way to win, twerp." Was all she said, but the heat was gone from it as she stomped off herself, arms held far from her body. ____________________________________________

You aren't a parent until you've been puked on at least once. Vander always made the joke, his tone jovial and good-natured. He liked to tell Vi about the time she'd gotten a nasty little stomach bug and vomited right down the front of his shirt; he would tell anyone who would listen about the day Powder had gotten into a bottle of alcohol and downed the whole damn thing, then vomited into his hair while he was sleeping and she'd crawled into bed with him for comfort. He always told these stories with a shine in his eye, a wry twist to his lips, and nothing but the deepest and truest of love in his voice. She couldn't know it, but she always sounded just like him, when she would tell Caitlyn these gross, hilarious little stories. There was so much love in her eyes, in her smile, in her tone. "Wonder if Powder ever puked on Silco." She said, once, absently, twining Caitlyn's hair between her fingers. "Bet that prissy fuck with his prissy clothes had a heart attack on the spot." (She could not know it, again, but the answer was no. No, he hadn't. Because he always jumped clear. Once, he'd cleared the desk in a single bound. It was pretty damned impressive, actually. But, seeing him hold the sick girl to his chest, crooning something low and soft in the base of his throat and wiping her too-hot forehead with a cloth, there was no one alive that could say he wasn't a real parent.)

[mmvalentine]

Fifty-Six part 2 | Feysand

Smut-fest continues, if you're enjoying this go say happy birthday to @asteria-of-mars!

Part 1 Part 3

Chapter 2: Chafing a bit?

Rhys was right about one thing- the inner circle were already seated and half way through their breakfast when they got downstairs. At the couple’s arrival, everyone looked up and greeted them warmly. They took their usual seats opposite each other, and Rhys caught Feyre’s ankles between his under the table and winked at her.

Feyre settled in between Cassian and Mor, but when the former leaned his elbow on the table and looked at her with a goofy grin, Rhys’s lips thinned.

Alright there? she asked him.

Fine, was the terse and completely unconvincing reply.

You sure you’re ready to be around other people?

Yeah, he said. I’m fine.

“So,” Cassian said, his eyes sparkling. “Mates, huh?”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Okay, I know all of you guys knew before I did.”

“We’re sorry,” Mor blurted. “We never meant to deceive you.”

Feyre softened. “I know,” she said. “It’s okay.” Mor grinned, and heaped muffins onto Feyre’s plate.

“Welcome to the family,” she said, and it was the best thing Feyre had ever heard.

“Congratulations, both of you,” Azriel chimed in, offering her a rare smile. Feyre beamed at him.

“We’re glad to have you,” Amren said quietly, and from her, it meant the world.

The whole time, Rhys kept his eyes on Feyre, and sipped his coffee.

“We missed you guys,” Feyre said affectionately.

“Oh you did not,” Mor smiled.

But Cassian said, “Especially me, right Feyre?” and Rhys snarled.

Everyone at the table stilled, and looked at the High Lord.

“Rhys,” Feyre said. “It’s okay.” Rhys locked eyes with her for a moment, and finally nodded once. Their friends continued eating, but kept flicking wary glances in his direction. Azriel cleared his throat.

“So, since you’re back Rhys, I was hoping to have a moment to discuss Jurian’s movements. My spies in the human realm have been keeping tabs on the human queens and-”

Azriel’s attempt at distraction was interrupted by another snarl, ripping from Rhys’s throat.

“What now?” Cassian hissed at him, dropping his roll to his plate.

“Would you mind keeping your great big ape-arms to yourself?” Rhys spat back at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Every time you move, you’re in Feyre’s space.”

“Rhys,” Feyre warned. “He’s fine.” It’s just the bond, love, she said in his mind. You’re not jealous of your brothers, remember?

Rhys did not reply. Just stared Cassian down until he shuffled further away from Feyre. Which was not very far, since the table was only so long and he was hitting the outside leg already.

“Uh, so… the human realm…” Azriel tried again.

“What about it?” Rhys asked irritably. Mor shifted in her seat. Feyre wasn’t sure whether to try to soothe or reprimand Rhys, but as Azriel talked he did seem to calm down a little. Even made a few comments on his spymaster’s plans going forward, and Feyre relaxed enough that when Cassian asked her to pass the eggs, she didn’t think too much of it. But then when Cassian took the plate from her, their fingers brushed, and in the next second Rhys was exploding across the table.

Glasses spilled and fruit rolled, and the everyone jumped back as Rhys lunged with clawed fingers and feral eyes. Amren grabbed a hold of Mor and said “Right girlie, that’s our cue to leave.” Mor shot a sympathetic glance at Feyre, then they winnowed. Az took a step forward as if he might get in between his brothers, but then thought better of it and left, too. Cassian, his nose bloodied and with egg splattered over his chest, shoved Rhys off of him with a great heave.

“Alright, alright I’m going. You big bloody baby,” he said, and then stalked out the door.

“Rhys,” Feyre began, and his head whipped round to her, teeth still bared. She held her hands up. “Rhys please calm down,” she said.

“Like hell I will,” Rhys growled, and then he lifted her by the waist and set her on the table, pushing her back among the ruined plates and stray danishes. Feyre thought to protest, but there was still testosterone rolling of Rhys in waves, and although her brain did not exactly approve of what had just happened, her body was fast taking over and by the time his lips crashed against hers, she was wrapping her legs around him and clothes were torn from their bodies in shreds.

Rhys sent apologies round after the breakfast debacle, but also stubbornly refused to admit that the mating bond was getting the better of him.

“It was just too many people at once,” he said to Feyre, after she she had taken him back to their room to wash the jam off his chest. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, while she wiped at him with a washcloth.

“It was too soon,” Feyre argued, looking him over for missed debris.

“Maybe I’ll just have them round one at a time, for now,” Rhys went on. Feyre sighed, and rinsed out the cloth. “Okay your turn,” he said, pulling her down and switching places with her. Feyre handed him the little towel, but Rhys, surveying the mix of breakfast smears and lovebites decorating her torso, decided there were better ways of cleaning her up. He licked her from navel to chin, and there was no further discussion about visitors that day.

But the next day, Feyre answered the door to Azriel while Rhys was in the bath. She was surprised to see him, and Azriel, for his part, actually looked nervous. Feyre wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him nervous.

“High Lady,” the Shadowsinger greeted her, ducking his head.

“Azriel,” she said warmly, and grasped his hand in hers. Azriel’s eyes widened, and peered through the doorway behind her. Feyre laughed.

“Don’t worry, he’s upstairs,” Feyre said. Azriel smiled.

“One can never be too careful with new mating bonds,” he said. “And Rhys… well, Rhys has taken my head off for less. Granted, that was a long time ago, but I’m assuming he’s basically a hormone-addled eighteen-year-old again.”

“That’s probably a safe assumption,” Feyre agreed, and showed him in. "Rhys is expecting you?"

“Yes, he asked me to come. I’ll, ah, wait in the study,” Azriel said, and disappeared round the corner. Feyre headed back up the stairs, where Rhys was walking out of their room towelling his hair off. Still naked and steaming from the bath. Feyre’s eyes followed the contours of his abs.

“See something you like, Feyre darling?” Rhys grinned, disappearing the towel with magic.

“Ah…” Feyre stuttered, forgetting what she was supposed to tell him. Gods, he really was a beautiful male. Rhys’s smile turned feline as he stalked toward her. Feyre stepped back as he approached, still watching the muscles shift under his tattoos. He walked her back out to the landing, and leaned her against the bannister as he bent to circle his arms around her waist.

“Cat got your tongue?” he whispered. He was so incredibly warm around her, and Feyre let her head fall back as he kissed under her ear. She struggled to remember what she came to get Rhys for.

“Oh!” she put her hands on his biceps. “Azriel…”

Rhys’s head snapped up, and his eyes were ablaze.

“Azriel?” he demanded. Before she could explain, Rhys had spun her around so fast her hands caught the bannister as she fell forward. He yanked her hips back and threw the edge of her skirt up. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on your lips, not now and not ever,” he growled in her ear. And then he smacked her lightly across the ass. “Okay?”

Feyre was going to laugh it off and explain, but then something unfurled in her chest. “Do that again,” she breathed.

“What?” Rhys asked, dangerously low. “This?” He smacked her again, a little harder this time. Feyre’s eyes went wide, and to her surprise, heat gathered between her legs. Rhys saw it all, and a very slow, very wicked grin spread across his face.

“Do you like to be spanked, my love?” he asked. Feyre didn’t know how to answer. Rhys pushed her underwear up to expose her backside, and smoothed his hand over it. And then landed a tight slap on her bare skin.

“Oh,” Feyre gasped, arching her back. Rhys pulled her hips back further, rubbing his now hard cock against her from behind. Feyre gripped the railing more tightly, and completely forgot about the spymaster in the study. “More,” she breathed.

“You want more?” Rhys echoed. He spanked her again, and she moaned. “Is this what you were looking for?” He pushed the rest of her skirt up her back and smacked the other side of her ass. “Is this why you’re being so cruel to me,” spank, “coming to me with another male’s name in your mouth,” spank, “looking for punishment?” He yanked her underwear down so it dropped around her ankles, and landed another three slaps, each harder than the one before. Feyre cried out again and again, and was getting so wet she knew he could smell her.

“Spread your legs, darling,” he instructed her. Feyre stepped out of her underwear and leaned her forearms against the bannister. Rhys spanked her again without warning and her eyes watered.

"Oh!"

“Wider,” he snarled. Feyre obeyed, widening her stance. Rhys rubbed his hands gently over her stinging skin, and then his cock was nudging at her entrance.

“Good girl,” he crooned, and then he spanked her one more time and when she yelled out he threaded his fingers through her hair and plunged inside her.

Rhys fucked her hard, bent over the railing, tugging her head back by the hair while his free hand worked her clit. The now sensitive and reddened skin of her ass bounced against the tops of his thighs, and when her knees started to buckle Rhys let go of her hair to wrap an arm around her waist to hold her up. Every physical sensation seemed heightened unbearably, and Feyre screamed as she came.

“Who’s name, Feyre?” he asked her. “Who’s name belongs in your mouth?”

“Yours,” she gasped between spasms.

“Say it,” Rhys bit out.

“Rhys,” Feyre said. “Rhys, Rhys, oh fuck, Rhys,” and the last one drawn out in a moan. The sound of it had Rhys coming hard as she was, and she didn’t come down until he had emptied himself inside her and his forehead was damp on her back. Feyre tried to move but felt like a new foal. Rhys laughed softly and carried her back to their room in his arms.

He lay her down very gently, and pulled the blanket over her before softly stroking her hair.

“I didn’t know that about you,” he said quietly.

“What?” Feyre asked, luxuriating in his wandering touch. A laughing edge came into his voice.

“That you were such a glutton for punishment.”

Feyre blushed, and Rhys pressed his lips to her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Half the fun of being wicked is getting to take care of you afterward.” Feyre smiled.

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

“And I quite like teaching you not to talk about other males in front of me.”

Feyre’s eyes flew open. “Oh!” she said, sitting up. “I was supposed to tell you that Azriel is here and waiting for you in the study!”

They stared at each other for a second, and the burst out laughing. Feyre covered her face in her hands, suddenly remembering the wanton sounds she had been making minutes ago and how clearly Azriel must have heard them all. Rhys peppered kisses over her cheek, and jaw, and neck, and then rolled out of bed, pulling trousers on before going downstairs to see if the Shadowsinger had stuck around.

He had not.

****

Liz asked for spanking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems

[allegra-writes]

“Fool’s gold”

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Sex pollen.

This is an alternative version to my fic "Fireproof", where the reader gets doused by the sex pollen instead of Peter, but you don’t need to have read that first. As any sex pollen fic, this can qualify as non/dub-con, so read at your own discretion and responsability.

Dedicated to @angel-spidey because without her this would have never seen the light of day💓

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Peter knew it was wrong. He knew it. He wasn't delusional enough to believe it was something other than the pollen making you act that way. Making you say those things. You had always been sweet to him, that was true, but you were sweet to everybody, didn't make any difference if they were a janitor or an avenger, it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. 

He also knew he wasn't the only one. His eyes weren't the only pair of eyes that strayed to you in the lab, Harley too seemed to be rather distracted whenever he was in your presence. And in fact, Peter didn't think he had ever seen Steve visit the lab that often before. Ever. And the guy was freaking Captain America, how could he ever compete with that? 

You didn't feel the same way about him, he had resigned to that a long time ago. To watch you from afar. To love you from afar. Because at least that much was true: the only way he knew he beated the other two men, beaten them by a long shot, was that he loved you the most. 

That was why he had left the med bay, because he couldn't stand it, seeing you like that, fighting against your restraints, skin flushed and eyes on fire, calling him, begging him to…

He wasn't able to resist it. 

And why he had walked away from the lab, leaving Bruce and Tony and even Stephen, to wrack their brains trying to find a cure, when the obvious solution was right in front of them. 

That was how he had found himself alone, in the dark, pretending to nap in the little on call room right outside the med bay, still in his suit after that disastrous mission they should have never let you tag along in the first place. Far enough from you not to hear your desperate pleas, but close enough to help if something happened. If the damn alien substance raised your fever enough to- No. He wasn't going to think about that. Dr. Banner was going to come up with an antidote. They still had time. 

Yeah, he knew it was wrong. He knew he should have told FRIDAY to alert mister Stark as soon as he heard the soft sound of your footsteps on the hallway. He knew he should have fled as soon as the knob turned and you entered the room. As you made your way to him. But he was paralized, frozen in place, as you leaned down over him, running your hot, way hotter than normal, hands down his chest, leaving fiery trails in their wake over the thin skin tight fabric of his suit. You raked your nails over his abs, feeling the muscle riple under your touch. 

"Y-you shouldn't be here" He stammered, as your fingertips came close, dangerously close, to the place where his suit was already starting to feel tight around his hips.

"Hmm… but you won't tell on me" your thumb traced the base of his length, a barely there caress that nonetheless had him jumping. "Will you, Peter?"

He breathed you in, another mistake. He could practically smell your desire, leaking through your pores. Pheromones, sweet and mouthwatering. 

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

Even in the dark, he saw you smile bright at his surrender. Discarding your lab coat, you straddled his hips, little blue skirt riding up your thighs, and released your hair from its ponytail as Peter watched, entranced by your every move. You spread your legs a little more, letting your center come in contact with his by then obvious erection. He could feel your heat through his suit, choking on thin air when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear. 

"F-fuck…" He gasped, eyes rolling back inside his skull as you started rocking above him.

He tried desperately to hold still, to stop himself from bucking his hips up to meet yours, but it was impossible. Every cell in his body telling him to move, to touch, to take what he had wanted for so long. What he had never dared to dream he could have. 

You moaned at the delicious friction you were creating, and you could hear him starting to breathe harder too. He felt amazing, a soothing balm to your burning skin everywhere you touched. This was what you needed, what the chemicals running in your blood demanded. He was warm, and hard, and male. But more than that, he was Peter, and he had to be yours. There was no other way, no other ending for this story. 

You grinded your pelvis against his harder, the pressure on your clit just perfect, the coarse texture of his suit only adding to the sensations. You were making a mess of it, ruining it, but it was worth it just to hear his groan the moment your wetness seeped through the fabric. 

"We can't… we can't do this" Peter tried to protest, even as his hands flew to your waist to aid your movements. 

"Why? Because an alien pollen is messing with my head?" You got rid of your t-shirt, and Peter's reply died in his throat, you weren't wearing a bra either "because it's wrong? Because It's dirty and-"

A wounded sound left Peter's mouth, a wordless surrender, a sob at his own damnation, and he snapped, his fragile control finally shattering to pieces. One second you were on top of him, teasing him within an inch of his life, and the next you were trapped between the soft mattress and his hard body, as his lips ravished yours, one hand roughly massaging your breasts, the other slipping under your skirt, searching blindly, fingertips digging into the delicate skin of your inner thighs. He was furious in his onslaught, desperation clear in the way he was kissing you, all teeth and tongue. Greedy. Ravenous. 

Because if this was all he was ever going to get, just one night with you, as you used him to scratch an itch, then he was going to make the most of it. He was going to commit every little detail to memory: The shape of your body under his, the taste of your skin, the smell of your hair, vanilla and cinnamon and something else, something uniquely you. The sweet little moans falling from your lips. 

"Peter, please"

He almost died when you said his name like that, breathless and needy.

"What do you need, princess?" He sobbed, "Anything… it's yours…just-"

"You. I need you" You replied, graceless fingers clawing at his suit, "take it off, please, I need to feel you"

He obeyed, pressing the spider on his chest and practically kicking it off in his haste to return to you. You welcomed him back with open arms and open legs, as he crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he could find in the way. Your breath hitched when he got to that little spot just under your breast, and you could feel his smile against the curve of it, right before his lips enveloped your left nipple, calloused fingers circling the other one clumsily, unskilled. But you were too delirious, too far gone to notice, the miles of skin against yours both soothing and stroking the fire within at the same time. 

You cried out,

"Peter! Please, it hurts so much, please! I- I can't-"

He kissed the tears away, softly, delicately. A stark contrast to his own demeanour just minutes ago.

"I-it's ok. I got you" He cooed, caressing your face "I'll make it better. I promise" 

He braced himself on one arm, elbow digging into the mattress next to your face, as he wrapped the fingers of his free hand around himself, aligning with your center. It took him a few tries, even slipping out once. He had no idea what he was doing, only knew that you needed him, and he wasn't going to let you down. Your life depended on it, and it was too important, too precious for him to even think of failing. 

You raised your hips just a bit, and he was sliding in, easily, so easily, as if he was meant for it. As if your bodies were two pieces of the same puzzle, finally falling into place. 

"Oh god…"

You clutched as his shoulders, burying your hiss into his neck. 

"Oh my god are okey? Did I hurt you?" The panic in Peter's voice made you smile despite yourself. He was still Peter, the sweetest most caring guy you had ever met. Soft, even with his hard cock so deep inside you, you could feel it in your soul, in your very essence, already claiming you as his. 

But you didn't need gentle. You didn't want him to thread softly. You needed hard, and fast, and more.

"Peter… fuck me"

"I-..." His eyes met yours, and you saw a new determination in them, jaw squaring as he withdrew almost completely, only to surge again, tearing a new cry from your lips. 

He let instinct take over, starting to thrust in and out of you, your tight, silky heat making his eyes roll inside his head

"Fuck! Oh god… oh my god… you feel…" He panted, amazed, handsome face scrunching in pleasure, eyes closed and mouth slack, "Fuck, you feel so good!" 

You wanted to reply, to tell him how amazing he felt too, every inch of his thick hard cock stretching you just right. Every ridge, every vein sending shocks of pleasure to your body until you couldn't see straight. You could feel you peak already building, with every delicious drag.

"More… Peter, please… more" 

How could he say no, when you were begging so prettily in his ear, hand tugging at his curls making it hurt so good? He picked up his pace, hips slapping against yours. Over, and over, and over… 

You were still on fire, every inch of your skin alight, exploding in sensation but it didn't burn anymore. Now it was a simmering warmth, making everything sharper, more intense. Better than anything you had ever felt before. He was better than anything you had felt before. 

And Peter was lost in you, in your moans, in your body, in your cunt. In the way you were taking him, consuming him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle, letting him reach deeper, bury himself almost to the hilt. Your blunt nails digging into his back until he smelt blood. 

He fucking loved it, love the idea of carring your marks even after this was over. He knew he wanted you to wear his. 

His lips found your neck almost of their own accord, sucking and nibbling until the sounds leaving your throat were nothing short of pornographic, the wanton whines and moans resonating in the room until he was sure Bruce and Tony could hear them all the way to the lab. 

"Yes, scream for me baby girl, let them know how good I'm fucking you" Peter didn't know where it was coming from, that arrogance, that… possesivenes. He knew you weren't really his. It was the pollen, you would never be doing this otherwise. And he probably wasn't that good, it was his first time after all. 

But your cries, the way your whole body was trembling under his, were giving him confidence. 

"Oh god… you're coming for me, aren't you? You gonna come on my cock?" 

You opened your mouth in a silent scream, and he almost fell on top of you taken by surprise by the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock for the first time ever, triggering his own release. But he didn't have time to recover before you croaked a weak but firm, 

"More" 

He met your eyes, stunned, but all he found there was assurance and passion. 

He turned around on the small bed so it was you the one on top. 

"Ride me" 

You didn't need to be told twice, straightening on top of him, rising slightly on your knees only to let yourself fall back down, impaling yourself on his dick. He licked his lips, looking like a king with a hand behind his head, gazing up at you through hooded eyes. 

"Show me"

"What?" 

He gestured towards the mini skirt you forgot you were still wearing. 

"Lift up that pretty skirt, and let me see how good you take my cock" 

A little whine left your mouth at his words, and you did as you were told, never stopping your bouncing motions.

It worked as Peter imagined it would, his softening cock coming to life again as he watched it disappear inside you. 

"Look at that" he whispered, almost in awe, "such a beautiful pussy, looks so pretty, stuffed full of my cock…" 

You picked up your rhythm, a little unstable on shaky legs, both hands still holding the fabric up and out of the way.

"Peter…" you whimpered. 

"What do you need, baby girl? I told you, anything you want is yours… I'm yours" 

You moaned, incapable to find the words. Thinking was impossible, speaking was inconceivable, not with him still between your legs.

He bucked his hips, 

"Uh!" 

"That what you want, princess?" He smirked, smug, "Like it better when I give it to you?"

You nodded, shamelessly, your legs burning with the effort but stopping was not an option. He sat up on the bed, enveloping you with his arms, thrusting up into you faster, deeper…

You felt the head of his cock stab your cervix, and he must have felt it too, because he groaned, eyes glazing over. 

"Can you feel me? Feel how deep I am?"

"Yes" You hissed.

"Gonna come like this…" He took hold of your hips, bringing you down hard as he thrusted up, "come so deep inside you… mark you… from the inside" 

You could feel it approaching fast, the pleasure he was inflicting on you too much, too soon. 

"Fill you up so good…"

"Yes"

"Until it's gushing out of you… and then… gonna fuck you again…"

"Yes!"

"Come inside you again… make you my little cumslut…"

"Yes! Please… please give it to me"

He could feel you tense around him again,

"What do you need, princess?"

"Your come" You screamed, "Give me your come, Peter!"

"Fuck! My pretty little slut… take it… Take it!"

And you did.

…

You passed out somewhere between rounds five and six, utterly sated and exhausted, but Peter couldn't sleep, terrified of the moment you woke up, all the pollen consumed, the spell broken. He knew it wasn't real, but for a few hours, he had been happy, pretending you truly did love him, wanted him, as he had loved and wanted you since the first time he had seen you, all that time ago, the day mister Stark had entered the lab with you in tow, announcing Peter that he had a new lab partner. 

He was running his fingers softly up and down your naked back, a barely there caress, watching you sleep, relaxed and happy, when he heard the buzzing coming from your lab coat, long forgotten on the floor near the bed. He took it out and saw Tony’s name lighting up the scream.

He slid to pick up.

“Fucking finally! Y/n, where the hell are you?!”

“Mister Stark, it’s me” He whispered his reply, as not to wake you up.

“Peter! Thank God! What happened? Please tell me you didn’t-“

“Sorry, Mister Stark,” Peter interrupted him, “We kinda did…”

“Shit! Please, Peter, please tell me you kids used protection!”

“Uh…”

Tony left out another loud curse at the other side of the line.

“Where are you? Y/n did something to Friday and now it won’t tell me where you are in the tower. You still in the tower right? I need the both of you to come to the lab right now” Tony was talking a mile a minute and Peter knew something very bad, not of the good was going on.

“Why?”

“Because,” Tony’s voice was frantic as he tried to explain the gravity of the situation, “That pollen thing? That’s not an aphrodisiac like we thought, it’s a fertility treatment. It messes your hormones and hers up with every fluid exchange! Like an artificial heath”

Peter turned to look at you, peacefully asleep, curling up to his side, blissfully unaware of anything and everything going on outside that bed.

And maybe it was the alien substance fucking up his brain, maybe he was the one fucked up, all by himself, but the mental image of you, round with his child, sleeping like that next to him every night? It wasn’t half as horrifying as Tony seemed to think it was.

After all, the girl of his dreams was finally his, and a baby would guarantee she would remain his, forever.

“You know what, Mister Stark? I have to go now. Talk to you tomorrow…”

“What? No, kid, don’t hang up on me! Peter Parker I swear-…”

Tony Stark heard the line go dead.

The end.

[one-boring-person]

What's Funny?

John Rambo (between Rambo II and Rambo III) x reader

Warnings: some sexual content implied? Slight injury

Context: John teaches the reader to ride a horse. (Set between the second and third movie)

A/N: this was not supposed to turn out how it did; it was supposed to stay innocent! But ah well, it is what it is. Also, I apologise if parts of this are inaccurate, I am by no means that knowledgeable on horse riding, so please excuse any inaccuracies!

Masterlist

I instinctively tense up in the saddle as I feel the horse beneath me shift, the sensation of being sat on something alive very odd to me, despite all the stranger things I've done in my life. Sensing this, the animal whinnies and paws at the dusty ground, tossing its head slightly, clearly thinking I'm in distress, even though I'm not. Biting my lip, I try to relax again, taking the reins a little looser in my hands, adjusting my feet in the stirrups. Still holding the bridle for me, my companion, John, reaches up to pat the horse's neck, trying to soothe it as he eyes my posture.

"You need to relax more." He states, reaching over to lightly pinch the muscle in my arm, feeling how tense it is, his touch almost reassuring to me, "Stop tensing up so much, nothing bad is gonna happen."

"I know, I'm just...nervous, that's all." I mumble back, slightly ashamed at my incapability to do something he makes look so simple.

"Don't be, you'll be fine. There, now just lightly touch your heels to his side and click your tongue." The dark-haired veteran moves his hands, holding onto the leading rope instead.

Taking a breath, I do as he says, my jaw clenching when the horse starts into a slow walk, snorting and tossing its head impatiently. The movement feels odd beneath me, but I settle into it with some ease, still uncomfortable but not badly so, my eyes flicking to John for knowledge on whether I'm doing this right. He watches me carefully, leading the horse round in a circle, adjusting my posture here and there, sending me a look of reassurance when he catches my eye. I start getting the hang of it, relaxing slightly into the saddle as the horse starts to get used to me, the movements becoming smoother and more fluid, a small hesitant smile breaking out onto my lips. 

"Enjoying yourself?" John asks after a moment, the start of a smile pulling at his lips, dark eyes glittering with triumph. 

"Yeah, I am now." I reply, grinning at him as I reach forward to pat the horse's neck.

"Good, I'm glad." He responds, swiping a hand over his brow, "Stop a minute, I've gotta take this off."

The muscular man gestures to his large overshirt, waiting for me to slow to a halt before dropping the lead and going to the fence, where he takes his shirt off over his head. I find myself watching his every movement, enraptured by the way his muscles flex and move under his tanned, scarred skin, his torso hidden by one of his black sleeveless shirts, his shoulders bulging as he removes the fabric hiding them. Licking my lips at the sight, I forget to pay attention to the horse beneath me, yelping when it suddenly bucks upwards, the unexpected movement throwing me off the saddle a little, the animal quickly working to lose me completely. Getting my feet loose from the stirrups, I find myself thrown to the floor, dull pain exploding across my ribs as I land harshly, the impact winding me. Neighing, the stallion jumps into a more uncontrolled pace, seemingly having been spooked by something, leaving me lying in the dust as it moves off. 

"(Y/n)! Are you alright?" John calls out to me as he realises what's happened, the veteran swiftly moving to catch the fast-moving horse, grabbing it and calming it. Leading it back over, he hurriedly drops to the floor beside me, helping me sit upright as I press a hand to my ribs, groaning a little.

"Yeah, I'm good. Caught me by surprise." I wince, looking up at him, allowing him to help me up.

He looks me over, making sure I'm not seriously injured, before starting to consider something, a slight grin playing at his lips.

"What's funny?" I ask him curiously, dusting myself down.

"Hm? Oh, I just find it amusing that for a person who I've seen drive a car, motorcycle, tank, and fly planes and helicopters, as well as navigate boats, in all kinds of conditions, you've never mastered horse riding." He explains, chuckling slightly.

Pouting, I push his arm lightly, eyeing up the horse again.

"Yeah, well all those things are inanimate when they start, and I can fully control them. This creature has a mind of its own. Literally." I gesture to the horse, still slightly intimidated by the size of it.

"True." John hums, still smiling, "I've got an idea on how to help you."

"Oh?" 

"Yeah, come on." 

Going back to the horse, John motions for me to climb up again, helping me settle back into the saddle as I swallow down the slight fear in my throat. Trying to relax, I expect John to start adjusting my posture instantly, only to be very surprised when he suddenly appears behind me on the horse's back, perched lightly on the saddle, chest pressed flush to my back as his arms thread through mine, taking the reins in hand. My breath falters in my throat momentarily as he adjusts himself, his body moulding to mine to be more comfortable, his own breaths hot on my skin as he leans forwards slightly. Against my sides, I can feel every flex of his muscles, my heart stuttering from the sensation, meaning I nearly miss it as he takes my hands in his and holds the reins with them.

"Relax, (Y/n). The horse can sense if you're tense." John advises me, his rough voice resonating through me from this proximity. Somehow, this does help me to relax, and I feel myself go limper in his arms.

After a second, I feel John's thighs tense up as he gently taps his heels to the horse's sides, guiding the animal into a slow walk. His body moves in time with the horse, encouraging me to do the same, the action feeling much safer now that I can feel him help guide the animal. Swallowing, I try to ignore the feeling of his chest rubbing against my back, and the slight tickle from his long hair brushing over my shoulders. 

"See, you're getting the hang of it." John encourages me after a little while, his hands moving from mine to rest lightly on my thighs, leaving me to guide the horse around. Though the movement is casual, it sends goosebumps up through my body, my legs tensing slightly under his touch. He must've noticed it by now, but he seems to ignore it, instead helping me continue to ride.

I squeak in surprise when his lips suddenly make contact with my neck, the veteran leaving a very deliberate kiss just over my pulse point, his mouth lingering there as his hands slide up to grasp my waist. Nosing at the skin, he continues to press gentle kisses over the area, feeling my body relax under his hands, falling back into his chest as he continues his actions. Gently, he trails kisses down my neck to my shoulder, relishing in the small sounds of pleasure escaping me, my body yearning for more from him, years of craving his touch making me extremely vulnerable to his ministrations now.

"J-John…" I sigh, tilting my head to give him better access.

Beneath us, I can feel the horse getting antsy, the animal clearly aware that our attention is now split. John clearly feels it, too, as he takes the reins again and pulls the horse to a halt, reluctantly climbing down. Sighing from the loss of contact, I follow his lead, keeping my gaze downturned as he takes the horse out of the area we used for practice, trailing after him as he swiftly hands the creature back over to its owner, speaking quickly with them before he takes me behind the stable. 

Once there, he pushes me up against the wall, lips crashing into mine, his hands gripping my waist and pulling me into him, my own arms wrapping around his neck. Moaning into the kiss, I press closer to him, feeling safe in his arms as we move in time with each other, years of pent up emotion flooding across the connection. His scent, sweat mixed with the faint remains of incense from the temple, surrounds me, calming my racing heart at its familiarity, making me wish I could stay this close to him forever. 

Eventually, he pulls away, both of us needing air, his forehead pressing into mine, our breaths mingling with each other.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't wait any longer." He finally says, his dark eyes searching mine for a rejection.

"Don't apologise. I'm not sure how much longer I would've lasted, honestly." I admit, carding my fingers through his soft hair, enjoying the feeling of the messy strands under my touch. 

Smiling, John leans in and captures my lips again for a chaste kiss, before pulling back completely, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side.

"Come on, let's go somewhere more private."

[rekrappeter]

Twilight || s.r

pairing: spencer reid x friend!ssa!reader

word count: 2.8k

warning: not sure if there is any lmk if i missed anything that is triggering | not proofread

summary: being hopelessly in love with spencer reid and him being oblivious to it

a/n: my requests are open so if you have any please send them my way ♡

Falling in love with Spencer Reid was the easiest thing you ever did. It happened so naturally and effortlessly, it was like a river that flowed silently through a rainforest. The exact opposite of how you would describe falling in love with anyone else; the last relationship you had, it was like a waterfall, emotions crashing into the pond beneath you. Every time he smiled, you wanted to smile. Every time he cried, you wanted to be the one to comfort him. Being in love with him made you want to be a better person, he inspired you to no end. 

The only problem with being so deeply and unconditionally in love with him was that he was completely oblivious to it. 

You could yell it from the rooftops about how you felt about him and he still couldn’t get the hint. He may be the most intelligent person you ever met, but when it came to love and feelings, it was like a completely different person. Or the alternative to that was maybe he did know how you felt, and he chose to ignore it. You tried not to think about that too much, hoping that deep down there was something there. That you weren’t just making everything up in your head. 

 Whenever your gaze landed on Spencer at his separate desk, his honey-brown eyes usually scanning the pages of a textbook, your heart wanted to explode at how soft and cute he looked. You wanted nothing more than to go over and cuddle him, feeling the texture of his cardigan cover your body. That was another problem with being in love with him, he was your colleague. Not just your colleague though, but someone that you would consider your best friend. 

Spencer was the one you turned to whenever you needed to rant and rave about how you spilled your morning coffee rushing into work, or how you couldn’t fit into your favorite pair of jeans at the weekend. He would be the first person you’d call if you had exciting news to share. He would also be the person to comfort you if you ever felt low or distressed about anything. He had shared things with you as well, he trusted you with his life. 

It was the reason why he caught you staring at him right now but to him, it only looked as if you were deep in thought. Spencer wanted to know what you were thinking about, what, or who could possibly make your expression look that soft and euphoric. He grimaced at the thought of someone that wasn’t him making you feel undeniably happy. The change in Spencer’s face made you jump from your thoughts, and he sent a small wave your way that was accompanied by a sweet smile. 

You never shied away from Spencer’s gaze, you got used to him catching you looking at him. Glancing around the bullpen, you realized that everyone slowly started to return home after a long day of work. There was something comforting about a quiet and near-empty office space, it was a complete change to the hectic atmosphere that you were used to experiencing.

Spencer stood up, his muscles aching from spending too long at his desk and he walked over to you. “Do you have any plans tonight?” He asked, his voice was low and it was gentle, almost like he was afraid to speak too loud to disrupt your thoughts. 

The dimmed lights above glared over Spencer’s features, he looked exhausted and his hair was framing his face. “Not a thing.” You exhaled, running your hand over your face. 

“Oh, that’s great…” He replied, causing your brows to furrow, “I mean, we should have that movie night that you were talking about earlier.”

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” You nibbled on your bottom lip, watching the smile on his face falter slightly and he shook his head. He looked so innocent at that moment and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle in close. “Sure, Spence. I’d love some company tonight.” 

When you returned home to your apartment in what felt like weeks being away, a sense of comfort circled around you. The smell of your favorite candle lingered in the air, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your work bag to the floor. Spencer walked in behind you, closing the door. It didn’t make you nervous having him here, he’d come over at least once a week whether to watch a movie or have take out. 

“As usual, make yourself at home.” You smiled up at the taller man, and he followed your lead with kicking his shoes off. “I’m just going to change, you know where the DVDs are.” 

Spencer walked further into your apartment and lifted his messenger bag off his body, placing it gently down beside your brown, cushioned couch. He remembered the first time he was ever in your home, he was tense and uncomfortable, afraid to touch anything in fear that’d he break it but now he was the complete opposite. He enjoyed being there, there was a strange sense of calmness that washed over him whenever he was here. Maybe it was more to do with the person that owned and decorated it, but needless to say, he always delayed leaving. 

Scanning your DVD collection, his long fingers pulled out a movie that he had never seen before but he heard all about the hype it created. The thing he loved most about you was that you made him branch out to different things, he’s watched movies he never even heard about and you were willing to open your mind to movies that he recommended. 

“Twilight?” The sound of you gasping made Spencer jump slightly and he looked over his shoulder, his eyes dropping to your outfit choice. He was shocked that he recognized the oversized jumper that draped your figure, it belonged to him and he realized that he must have left it here one night. “I-umh I hope you don’t mind me wearing this.” You said, breaking the silence as his brown eyes trailed along your face. 

“No, no, of course not. I-it looks good on you.” Spencer stuttered, a red tint painting over his cheeks. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest at his words. He thought you looked good. 

“I also got these for you, just in case you wanted to get comfortable,” You threw a bundle of clothes at him, causing him to drop the DVD onto the floor to catch them. Giggles trailed from your lips and you shook your head at how uncoordinated he can be. “Popcorn?” 

Spencer nodded in response, looking at the clothes he caught. They were his pajamas, he left a spare pair here just in case and they came in handy for now. After changing into them, he returned to the living room to see you cuddled onto your couch in your normal position with a large quilt hugging you. The movie was ready to be played and drinks and popcorn were rested on the coffee table. Spencer took it amongst himself to dim the lights down which gained your attention. 

“Why did you pick this movie?” You asked, reaching for a bowl of popcorn while he sat down next to you. You lifted the blanket up to cover him as well and you twisted your body to rest against his. This wasn’t unusual for you and you definitely took advantage of it to release the urge to cuddle him. 

“You and the girls keep talking about which team you are, I want to understand and see what team I support.” Spencer hummed, stretching to rest his arm around your body and bring you closer. Your heart pounded at the gesture, feeling his fingers rub against your bare hip underneath the covers. You had to remind him that he was being friendly as usual. 

“How can anyone be team Jacob? It’s very clear that Bella only has feelings for Edward and she was just using Jacob as a distraction technique. But also because of the obvious beauty Jacob possess in the movie, you can see why he has such a large fanbase. I wonder if they read the books, would they be team Jacob or Edward?” You watched Spencer ramble on about the two Twilight movies you watched together that evening, his brows were creasing together and there was a clear expression of distaste evident on his face throughout the movies. You were surprised how much thought he was giving to them, especially when he has watched movies a lot more controversial than these. Spencer looked down at you, tucked into his chest and he stopped talking, “Sorry, I’m blabbering again.”

“You know I like listening to you ramble, Spence.” You reassured him, patting his chest. 

Spencer blushed again, swallowing a lump in his chest. “Why though?” The question just fell off his tongue, he hadn’t meant to ask you but he just wanted to know. Why were you so different than everyone else? 

“Why do I like listening to you?” You sat up from his embrace, despite your body’s protest of wanting to feel his warmth. Spencer nodded and you sighed, shrugging your shoulders and his eyes drooped down sadly, he started to pick at a loose thread on the blanket. The mood became sullen. Just tell him. “I don’t know why, Spence. I guess I just like hearing you talk about things that you know, you teach me something new every day.”

Spencer’s lips twitched slightly and he looked at you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in that situation.” 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, twisting your body to face him. Your hand unconsciously grabbed his hand in yours. When you first met Spencer, he refused to give you a handshake and it took months for him to allow you to hug him. The fact that he never protested now when you touched him made you happy, hoping that you would never have to go back to that awkward phase of second-guessing. 

Spencer nibbled on his bottom lip, and you could see his thoughts flying through his mind. He was distracted and bothered by something. “Do you think I’m annoying?”

A bellowed laugh escaped your stomach but ceased when you realized that he wasn’t joking with you. You kneeled on your couch by his side, grabbing his face in your hands to turn his eyes to you. “Absolutely not!” You exclaimed, pouting at him. “What’s got you thinking that?”

Sighing, he pulled away from you causing your hands to fall limp by your side. “Whenever I start talking, people start rolling their eyes or exhaling as if I don’t have anything important to say.”

“That’s not true and don’t feed me that bullshit.” You demanded. 

“Y/N-”

“No, Spence! Everyone adores you, everyone loves you. I couldn’t imagine my life without you and I know the others feel the same. You brighten up our lives, trust me.” You smiled at him, his frown lifted slightly and he brought your body close for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, embracing the warmth again. “Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” 

Spencer sighed, nodding into your shoulder. “But can you stay with me?” He whispered, he wasn’t sure if this was overstepping the boundaries but when you agreed, it just felt natural to be cuddling with you throughout the night and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep alone ever again. 

Weeks passed by and it became a regular occurrence for Spencer to spend the night at your house. It was completely platonic. The only problem was that you never cuddled with any of your other friends as much as you did with Spencer. Another issue was that you both were for some reason keeping it a secret from the team. You did it unconsciously though, whispering to Spencer about what time he would be there at or he would find you when you were alone to see if you had any plans for the evening. The sad thing was you always made sure you had no plans so that you could spend it with Spencer. 

“Hey,” You whispered, walking up to Spencer in the kitchen of the BAU making a coffee. You looked around at the empty room, smiling up at him. He handed you a warm cup and you gladly accept. “What time are you coming by tonight?”

Spencer swallowed thickly, his eyes blinking quicker than usual. “Actually, I might not be able to come tonight.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” You chuckled, embarrassed that you had just assumed he was always free. He did have a life after all. 

“It’s funny actually,” Spencer spoke, a smile on his face, “Derek asked me to go on a double date tonight. Savannah has a single friend, I wouldn’t normally consider it but…” He trailed off, watching your expression drop. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, his doe eyes looking down at you. 

Your lips twitched, you tried your best to plaster a smile on your face but it was near impossible. “That’s great… I actually, I have to go.” You muttered quickly dismissing yourself, turning on your heels and stalking away from the confused man. You wanted to slap yourself at that moment, you shouldn’t have made it so obvious that you were upset but at this point, you weren’t even sure if Spencer was going to notice. 

By the time Spencer returned from making his coffee, he noticed that your desk was cleared and your bag was missing. Derek walked up to him, patting him on the shoulder. “What happened to Y/N?” He questioned, knowing that Spencer would be the best to ask. 

“I-I don’t know. I told her about the date tonight and she just walked away.” Spencer muttered, replaying the moment in his head but he couldn’t find any reason that you should be upset unless you had romantic feelings for him. “Oh…”

“Are you just realizing this now, pretty boy?” Derek whispered, watching the pieces come together in the younger man’s head and he let out a laugh. “You may be the smartest person I know, but you are clueless when it comes to women.” 

“Derek, I messed up.” Spencer sighed, tucking his hair behind his ears. “I- we have been sleeping together for the last few weeks-”

“Hold up a second,” Derek interrupted, his eyes wide in shock.

Spencer awkwardly coughed, protesting immediately. “Not like that, no! I just go over to her apartment after work, we… we cuddle and then fall asleep together.” 

“Every night?” 

Spencer grimaced, realizing how oblivious he has been, “Most nights.”

“Kid, you ain’t coming on that date tonight. What you need to do is go and get yo’ girl before it’s too late.” 

Spencer banged on your door, his hair falling over his face but he didn’t care. He was silently panicking on the inside, what if he was too late to tell you that he liked you as more than a friend? 

“S-Spencer, what are you doing here?” You asked, wiping the tears that were dancing down your cheeks. It broke his heart knowing that he was the reason for your hurt. 

“I may have an eidetic memory and 3 PhDs, but I have never been good with women.” He replied, breathless from banging against your door. “It hasn’t taken me this long to realize my feelings for you, they have always been there but I tried to ignore them because I want you to be happy, and being your friend is better than nothing.” He rambled on. You looked up at him in shock, letting the door free from your grasp. You watched as he licked his lips, he was beyond nervous and when you didn’t say anything back, his heart deflated. “Or maybe I completely misread this situation-”

“No, no, you didn’t.” You interrupted quickly before he had a chance to take back what he said. It was everything you wanted to hear since the first day you met him. 

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“I am too, Spence.” You whispered, bringing your arms up to hug him and he circled his arms around your waist pulling you into him. You leaned back to see his face, watching the happiness swirl beneath his brown orbs. You caressed his cheek, bringing his face closer to yours. “Is this okay?” 

“Most definitely.” He replied, his eyes fluttering close and he brought his lips to yours. The whole world was spinning around you, and you could die happy right now. His lips were soft and warm, and you never wanted to leave this moment. The kiss was short and hesitant, but when he pulled away, the smile on his face said a million unspoken words. His breath fanned across your face, and you felt alive. 

In that moment, you felt weightless. 

       🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻

this is very much not proofread so apologises for any awful mistakes lol but i just dont have the patience for it 

[shreddedparchment]

A Playful Family

OTP Challenge 10/02/2020

Pairing: Thor x Reader          Word Count: 2,003

Warnings: Adult themes, language, LOTS of more fluff, sexy talk

A/N: This is for @thefanficfaerie​ ‘s OTP Challenge. I’m really enjoying these! Writing these out and just getting them out right away without worrying too much about plot. Just character stories with a family I already love. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“NO!” Thor shouts, nearly pushing your heart to stopping as he jumps towards you from the stairs.

You jump and gasp, pressing your hand against your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“Thor, what the fu-?”

“Ah-ah!” Thor chastises you, frowning. “Little ears abound, my sweetest, beautiful, loving, and most of all forgiving wife.”

He closes the distance between you, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you against his chest.

“What did you do?” You ask him, suspicious but he chuckles and kisses you, bring both hands up to hold your head still as he does.

His kiss is sweet and warm, a fluttering of his lips prompts yours open and he tastes you, guiding your head to the right as his own goes left and he wraps his arms around you to support your weight as he dips you to the side and very nearly sweeps you off your feet.

Your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline as your arms go limp and you drop your sewing bag. Without its weight, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck loosely as Thor kisses all of your senses away.

He draws his tongue out slowly, letting it trace the center part of your upper lip as he stands you upright again. When you’re straight he gives you one final peck.

You’re not unaware of the fact that you’re standing there with your arms around him, lips still puckered, and your eyes shut as your now foggy mind begins to clear.

Holy fuck, this man can kiss.

“Now I know you did something.” You mumble.

Thor laughs but reaches down to take your bag and hurries around to hang it in its spot by the door. Your little bungalow, gifted by Tony when Thor had left you pregnant—though in his defense he didn’t know you were pregnant when he left you—hasn’t changed much. There are new additions to your walls and tables. New pictures with Thor and Rosie and Ben looking bigger and happier with his sister and his daddy at his side.

Your little kitchen with it’s round table is more scuffed than before with Thor here to add his own rough touch to it every now and then. Ben’s booster seat is gone as he’s grown enough to sit without one, but Rosie’s highchair sits among the other three, pink and yellow and green. And all throughout an array of pumpkins, both plaster and plastic, Rosie’s color changing ones on the island counter by the jar of Splenda packets.

Ben’s spoopy mirrors are hung upstairs along the hallway, wrapped in pulled cotton spiderwebs.

“I have done nothing. That is to say, nothing worth you getting angry at me over.” Thor corrects himself when you look skeptical. “May I ask a favor?”

With your arms hanging at your side, your coat still on, Thor slides behind you and helps you take it off. “Depends on the favor.”

Thor nods, moving to stand before you as he folds your jacket neatly and works out the creases you’ve made throughout the day. “What if I told you it was more a favor for Ben, than for me? Would that make you more amenable?”

You glare at him, reaching down with his hands nice and busy, and slide it far back enough that you can reach his butt and give it a pinch.

He jumps, “Hey!”

“You using our son to get me to agree to play your sick games?” You accuse.

Thor smiles slowly, softly, and the look in his eyes drives all teasing from you and makes your stomach flip. How can he look at you like that? How can he mean it? After everything you two have been through to get to this happy place—this happy home—you still can’t believe that Thor picked you.

“Only if it works.” He admits.

“Fine.” You sigh.

Thor smiles more widely then moves around you to hang your coat.

His heat suddenly wraps around you from behind, his hands tracing all the way down to your wrists then the backs of your hands which he cups gently, taking hold of them as he presses himself against you.

You can feel his pelvis pressed against your bottom, the subtle rubbing he’s teasing you with probably to punish you for the pinch to his butt.

When he speaks, the heat of his breath wafts along your ear and neck, chills erupting along your skin as your heart begins to pound and your panties become suddenly soaked.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, voice so deep you can feel it in your hoo-haw.

“Thor-” You plead, hating him every bit for torturing you.

He leans a little further forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Please?”

You sigh but do as he wishes, shutting your eyes tight.

He takes hold of your head again, tilting it back and sideways until your lips meet his and he gives you another world melting kiss that leaves you breathless and hungry for more.

“I’ll be right back.” He tells you, then abandons you and what sounds like sprinting up the stairs.

“You’re gonna break the house!” You call to him, but he doesn’t reply.

A few minutes pass and your patience grows thin. You open your eyes and look up at the second floor landing but find it empty.

“Thor? How much longer?!”

“Do you have your eyes shut?!” Thor booms down the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head as you turn slowly and press your hands over your eyes. With a smile you wait, your mind racing with all the possible surprises Thor and Ben might have cooked up in your absence.

“Okay! They’re shut.”

You try not to turn instantly when you hear Thor’s footsteps coming down the stairs accompanied by the sound of much smaller feet at his side.

You can hear Ben’s quiet giggle, his voice a little hiss. “Mommy will wuv it, wight daddy?”

“She’ll love it.” Thor whispers back and your heart could explode with the love you have for your boys.

They stop walking and a moment passes before Thor clears his throat. “Okay, you can look now.”

You turn, much too eager to see what they’ve been doing to take it slow and you very nearly fall to your knees at the sight of them.

All three of them, Thor, Ben at his side, and Rosie kicking and slapping her hands against Thor’s chest in excitement are dressed in footie pajamas.

Thor’s are black, the outline of bones along every inch of it making him look like a walking skeleton. Ben’s a little scarecrow with brown shoes, green pants with sewn in patches, a checkered red and yellow shirt with a patched up brown vest. Just above where the shoes end, where his pants end, and where his shirt meets his neck and wrists are tufts of soft stringy sun colored threads and fabric to make it look as if he is indeed fill with hay.

In Thor’s arms, Rosie’s own onesie is black on the top with what looks like the outline of what should be a corset that runs into the skirt of her pajamas stitched into the onesie, and then her legs are purple and green, made to look like a witch’s socks.

“Oh my goodness!” You gasp, genuinely pleased by the sight, downright tickled by how adorable your babies look but you play up the reaction for the benefit of your little ones.

Ben giggles, jumping once but remembers the rule about jumping in the house and stops immediately.

“You wike it, mommy?” Ben asks, clinging to Thor’s free hand tightly.

“I love it, sweet pea. Oh you all look so amazing! Come here, come give me a hug!” You drop to your knees and open your arms for him and he flies right for you, clinging tight when he’s in your arms.

“Surprise!” Thor exclaims, grabbing Rosie’s hand and shaking her little fist in celebration, then speaks for her. “Surprise, momma!”

“My Rosie, look at her, she looks so dang cute, Thor! Where did you find these?” You let Ben pull away from you as he runs into the living room, excited and eager to expend the extra energy that this little show has given him.

“At the shop, when we went to buy the decorations. I have yours upstairs. Yours is all white, with a shocked ghost face on it. Kinda looks like you did when I startled you.” He chuckles, teasing you heartlessly.

“Jerk.” You laugh, getting up and reaching for Rosie. She throws herself at you and you smother her cheek with kisses as Thor marches into the living room after Ben.

“Alright, son, we’ve shown your mother the pajamas. It’s time for bed.”

Ben gives a small defiant whine but then struts to the stairs and with lead in his feet and a pout on his lips, he walks up the stairs with Thor trailing behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you really trying it on?” Thor calls from the room, waiting for you to make your appearance in your Halloween themed PJs.

“Of course. I need you to see me in it.” You tell him, wicked and knowing as to what you’re about to do.

He deserves it. He really deserves it after what he pulled downstairs.

“You’re not looking right?” You check, waiting with your hand on the door to your bathroom.

You’d left him sitting on his side of the bed, facing the large glass sliding doors that lead to the tiny balcony attached to your room. He’d already drawn the curtains thankfully.

“No. I’m not looking. I won’t cheat.” He promises and you believe him.

“Okay, here I come!” You announce then pull the door open and step out into your room.

He’s really still sitting facing the doors.

“What do you think?” You ask him and watch him lift his left leg onto the bed to traverse and turn towards you as best he can.

He might have been expecting the ghost pajamas but what you give him instead is soft gray baby doll lingerie set, with lace that looks like twisting dead tree branches along the top of your bust. The V neck ends between your breasts where the clasp holds the skimpy nightie shut. The layers of thin sheer fabric flow out at uneven lengths but hide just enough of the matching gray panties to tempt and give tantalizing sneaky peeks.

Thor’s jaw drops. He freezes. His eyes devour you from head to toe, but he doesn’t speak as you give him one quick spin that gives him a generous amount of you to ogle, the stop and pretend to only just remember the finishing touch.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You move around the bed towards your small vanity by the sliding doors and reach for the headband with small black horns.

You slide them onto your head and turn back to Thor, smiling when you see that his gaze has followed you from one side of the room to the other.

“Well? What do you think?” You give him another spin then sigh. “Maybe I should just go put on the ghost?”

You pretend to think about it.

“Yeah, I think the ghost would be better. Right?” You nod and make to move back around the bed to the bathroom but Thor’s arm shoots out at you like a cobra and with an easy pull he’s got you falling onto the bed on your back, bouncing as you laugh.

“Woah,” You laugh again. “Okay, maybe I’ll keep this one on then.”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, reaching down between your knees to trace his hot calloused fingers along the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “No, I think you should take it off.”

His hands makes you breathless and as his fingers find the elastic edge of your underwear, you gasp, and he swallows hard.

“Here, let me help you.”

[xuxszx]

sofa | Henry Cavill

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Henry has been home for two weeks. He saw that something was wrong with Y/N. She greeted him with a short kiss and didn't even let him hug him. Not to mention sex. She was cold. She kept her distance. And Henry wanted to know what was behind it. What happened. What could he do wrong?

Y/N was jealous.

Seeing Henry in the Netflix's 'The Witcher' was amazing, but seeing Henry kissing Anya with his language, the way he looked at her and his hips brushing her crotch in known scenes - all this made Y/N was furious. She had never felt this way in her life.

She'd been hiding her feelings for the whole two weeks, and now that she had her period, she just exploded.

Y/N was sarcastic all day. Whenever she saw Henry, she rolled her eyes at him. Under her breath she still called him an asshole.

In addition, she lay in the living room on the sofa with Kal and watched Apple's 'Defending Jacob'. Being part of this series was very important to her. It turned out that playing Chris's wife was extremely easy, and Evans was charming. In no case could he compare to Henry.

No one could compare to him. Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill was the man of her dreams. Always charming, caring, loved and compelling. He was all she wanted. Y/N wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Give him children and love him every day, and when the hard time comes, support him.

Y/N was a mess. She was so jealous and so mad at herself, Henry and Anya. At herself, because watching Henry with another woman she felt insecure and not worth the man like Cavill. At Henry, because he kissed Anya the way he should only kiss Y/N. And at Anya, because she spent time with him when Y/N missed him like never before in her life.

"Honey, I'm going for a run" she heard Henry, who was putting on his running sneakers in the hall. As usual, he was wearing a London Rugby Team cap. It was already evening, so the fact that Henry was going to run at this time instead of morning clearly indicated that something was wrong.

"Go to hell" she muttered, still furious. Kal shifted uneasily at the tone of her voice. And she scratched his ear in response and Akita was calmer now, just the opposite of Y/N.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with you? You've been acting like you've been having a problem for the past two weeks and I'm jumping like an idiot around you and I don't even know what's biting you," said Cavill, nervous. Frustrating such an oasis of peace was difficult. Damn hard. However, Y/N has mastered it almost to perfection.

"Of course, because I make the problem where it is not," she snapped. Emotions took over her. She couldn't control us. "Anya would probably be more forgiving, huh?"

"Is that it? Are you jealous of her?" he asked, worried. They had been together for almost four years and never showed jealousy for a moment. They both knew that what they felt was too strong for either of them to ruin. No one could separate them.

"I'm not fucking jealous!" she shouted loudly, and scared Kal fled from the living room to the kitchen. Henry and Y/N almost never argued. Even if something bad appeared in their relationship, they always solved it. Bad emotions tame in the bedroom for several long hours in their arms.

"So what's going on?" he asked again, rubbing his forehead with nervousness. Henry didn't like vague situations. And Y/N has always made it clear and transparent. And now something was definitely bothering her and Henry wanted to know what.

"You're going on and who else?" she replied. Pissed to the limit, she got up from the sofa. She had had enough for today. When she wanted to walk past the man without even looking at him, Henry grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. Y/N bounced off his chest and looked at him sharply. They both looked at each other furiously.

"You can't just leave the room, Y/N!" he warned her. Henry has never wanted to get her over her knee so much and take care of her naughty ass. "Talk to me, damn it."

"I don't feel like it," she growled and wrenched her hand free from his grip. A moment later, Henry was alone in the living room, and Y/N locked herself in their bedroom and seemed to be sleeping separately today.

It was literally the middle of the night when Y/N still couldn't sleep. Next to her, Kal snored loudly, who was tired of the day like her. Her eyes ached from constant rubbing and crying. In fact, her anger was over and now she was just sad. She knew that she had caused Henry a fuss over her stupidity and uncertainty. She should apologize to him. She should explain it to him. But how was she to tell him that for the first time in her life she felt too small, too not perfect to be with someone like him.

She swallowed more tears and went downstairs to the living room. Henry looked asleep. He had one hand behind his head and the other on his stomach, and his left knee was sticking out of the sofa. His eyebrows were drawn and his hair was disheveled. He was shirtless.

"Are you sleeping?" she asked, pushing his thigh with her knee. Henry, without a word, picked up a piece of blanket that was covered, encouraging Y/N to lie next to him. The girl did it right away, put her head on his chest, and put her leg over his hips. Henry covered her with a blanket and wrapped his arms around her. And now Y/N burst into tears like a small child.

"Shhhh. Don't cry, honey," he said, kissing her forehead tenderly. He patiently wiped tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," said Y/N when she calmed down a little. "I just ... I don't know why I was jealous. I already saw you kissing other women on the screen. For example from Amy. I had no problem and now I don't know ..."

"I kissed Amy before we were together," Henry interrupted. "And now we are together and this is my first role, where I kiss a woman other than you," he said. From the beginning of today's quarrel he knew that Y/N was jealous. He just didn't know why. And he understood that now.

"There is something to it. I just ... When I saw you kiss Anya with this tongue and so passionately ... I don't know something burst in me. And I was afraid ..." she murmured slightly embarrassed. Admitting any weakness was not her strength.

"Were you afraid?" he asked surprised. Henry did not think that he could hurt her with his behavior. After all, it was just taking a role in the series. Nothing but friendship united him with Anya.

"Yes. That I will lose you. That you will understand that I am not good enough," she whispered. Her blush was getting bigger every moment. After all, she was always confident. She knew what she could and couldn't do.

"How much of what has come to your mind is caused by the hate of my supposed fans?" Henry asked. Since he told the world that his girlfriend is Y/N, some of his fans, especially the female part, did not leave a dry thread on her.

"A lot," she said, burying her face in his chest. "There is no day that I don't see a comment somewhere that I owe everything to you. That because of you I got a role alongside a star like Chris. That if it wasn't for you, nobody would be interested in my paintings for the foundation," she calculated. Recently, she received more and more negative messages. People criticized her at every turn. Even when film critics rated her acting at a very high level, people said that he owed everything to his relationship with Henry. For all of them it was not enough. And so she finally felt.

"Bullshit," Henry snapped. The night was definitely not the best time for such talks. They were both already tired. Y/N's face resembled a large, swollen tomato, and Henry did not know how to force people to stop being so terrible to her. "Y/N look at me. You are the best woman I have ever fallen in love with. Has my friendship with Chris in any way helped you gain this role? No. You went to the casting and they decided that you were good. Did I help you get the role of Mera in 'Aquaman'? Neither. You must learn not to bother about people you don't even know, honey. Otherwise it will lose you, "Henry comforted her." I love you just the way you are. Even on your hard days during the period, "he added, laughing loudly. Y/N wrinkled his nose funny and puffed his dissatisfied mouth in response. Henry pulled her even closer and kissed her breathless." You really could have chosen another day to argue. How will we reconcile without sex?" he laughed and Y/N hit him playfully in the shoulder. Sometimes he was impossible.

A moment later, they both heard Kal barking and his loud claws stamping on the stairs. Akita jumped without an invitation to the sofa and settled himself comfortably at their feet. He looked at them for a short while and he was pleased.

"Do you know that I was going to propose to you?" Henry murmured, gently massaging his beloved's shoulder. Y/N almost fell asleep, but hearing his words woke up immediately.

"So you don't want anymore?" she asked.

"I was sure you would break up with me. But now I will have to come up with something spectacular," he kissed her forehead again.

"First of all, I would be the stupidest woman in this world if I broke up with you. Second, after today's day of impressions, you can probably let it go with something spectacular," Y/N said and snuggled into Cavilla like a little koala. "Henry?" she asked after almost twenty minutes.

"I'm listening, Y/N" he murmured tiredly. It was almost three in the morning and they were still awake. Only Kal snored like the huge bear he was.

"If this sofa breaks someday ... Promise me we'll fix it ... That we won't throw it away."

"I promise. We'll fix whatever goes wrong," he promised. Henry knew that this request wasn't just for the sofa. Y/N was still scared to some extent. And Henry promised himself that he would do everything so that this would never happen again.

Let me know what you think ❤️ Well, I have mixed feelings 🤷🏻‍♀️

Tag list: @hatedyoufromhello @hnryycvll @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @wondersofdreaming @thethirstyarchive @yespolkadotkitty @onlyhenrys @avengersandlovers @supersweetstache @dangerouslovefanfic @fumbling-fanfics @laketaj24 @littlefreya @viking-raider @beautifullmelodyxx @mary-ann84 @mrsaugustwalker @speechlessxx @deactivatedyssb @fishcustardandclintbarton

[jensengirl83]

Regret and Redemption Chapter eight

Dean x reader

Mechanic!AU

Word Count-2269

Warnings-Angst, language, heartbreak

Summary- Reader has left Dean and is trying to move on with her life. Can Dean prove himself and convince her to come back home?

A/N- Song in this chapter is “Don’t Know What’s You’ve Got Until It’s Gone” by Cinderella. Thank you to my beta @emoryhemsworth and all my girls and guy for the encouragement to keep going with this series. I love you all!

Amazing series cover and text dividers courtesy of @talesmaniac89​ 

Regret and Redemption Spotify Playlist

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2FX7eDSq8WEUlFyPUG1j8f?si=PZNFJlmqS42rhBuqO-Fd4g

Mary: Y/N, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, and I understand, but Dean is not doing so well, and I hoped we could talk about what exactly happened. He has me very worried and I can’t get him to tell me much of anything. I will always think of you as my daughter, Y/N. I truly hope you will message me back and let me say what I need to tell you.

Y/N stared at the text from her mother in law, her emotions now worse than before. She’d always loved Mary and would miss her dearly, but she wasn’t sure if she should reply. Y/N was sure that Dean was having a hard time, but so was she. He was the one who’d betrayed her. He was the one who had thrown their marriage away with no regard for her feelings. The longer she looked at the text message, the angrier she became. Who gives a damn that Dean was having a hard time! Y/N had been the one who’d been slapped in the face with the worst of betrayals. Her husband had been sleeping around behind her back! She’d been nothing but loyal to him, so fuck him and his hard time!

Y/N threw her phone across the room with a scream. The raw emotions of everything had crashed down on her. She felt as if she was drowning as she fell to the kitchen floor in a heap of sobs and screams. How could he do this to her?! She’d loved Dean with every fiber of her being just to be betrayed by him. Her body wracked with sobs as she finally let the severity of their situation overtake her. She’d never felt a pain like this in her entire life, but she never loved anyone the way she had loved Dean Winchester.

Y/N had laid on her kitchen floor and cried, grieving for her loss. Her heart ached as she thought back to all the promises whispered in their tender moments together: the promises that had been shattered like porcelain being thrown to the floor, the words that ran through her head since the day she walked out on him. She missed her husband. Not the man he was now, but the man he had been: the man that would hold her close as he made love to her like she was the only woman in the world, the man who had promised her forever and meant it. She missed the way he used to love her and only her. Y/N decided then and there that those were the last tears she would ever cry for Dean.

Dean had just awoken, and his head felt as if it weighed twenty pounds and was on the verge of exploding. He’d drank himself to sleep the night before and he planned on doing it again. His marriage would be over in a few weeks’ time and he had nothing else to stay sober for. He’d ruined one of the only good things that had ever happened to him. He was being sued and could possibly lose everything he had worked for and he couldn’t care less. Without Y/N, he didn’t want any of it anyway. What was the point if he had no one to share it with?

Dean traded his morning coffee for another glass of whiskey. He threw his head back and finished the drink in one swallow, hissing at the burn as it made its way down his throat. He refilled his glass and repeated his actions from seconds ago, deciding to forgo the glass and take the whole bottle back to the couch where he planned to stay for the day. He had already called the garage and told them he didn’t know when he would be back in. There were too many memories of Y/N there, and if he had to be reminded of her, he would rather be home where he could drink himself into a stupor.

Dean stared down at the ring that was still on his left hand. He hadn’t been able to make himself take it off. Even though he had signed the divorce papers, taking his wedding band off made it all too real and he wasn’t ready for that. He was hanging on by a thread and the finality of removing his ring would drain what little strength he had to keep going.

Dean couldn’t handle the quiet any longer as he hit shuffle on his playlist. He knew he was sure to hear something that would remind him of Y/N, but he didn’t care. The memories of their time together were all he had left, and he welcomed the pain. It was the only thing that let him feel like he was still alive like he hadn’t died the day she walked out and left him alone. Dean turned up the whiskey and chugged as the tears began to make their way down his face. It became part of his daily routine to let the tears flow and wish he could go back and make different decisions. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, letting the pain and heartache consume him completely when the first notes of a song filled the room.  

I can't tell ya baby what went wrong

I can't make you feel what you felt so long ago

I'll let it show

I can't give you back what's been hurt

Heartaches come and go and all that's left are the words

I can't let go

If we take some time to think it over baby

Take some time, let me know

If you really want to go

The lyrics that filled the room had Dean singing along as his heart ached. They’d both always liked this song, but now it hit a lot differently.

Don't know what you got till it's gone

Don't know what it is I did so wrong

Now I know what I got

It's just this song

And it ain't easy to get back

Takes so long

He hadn’t realized what he had in Y/N. He took for granted that she would always be there, and now he was paying the price. Dean turned up the bottle as the song continued to play.

I can't feel the things that cause you pain

I can't clear my heart of your love it falls like rain

Ain't the same

I hear you calling far away

Tearing through my soul I just can't take another day

Who's to blame

If we take some time to think it over baby

Take some time let me know

If you really want to go

Y/N had already left and wasn’t coming back. Dean’s chest heaved with the emotion that was coursing through him. He always buried his emotions deep, but he couldn’t be strong anymore. His whole world was crumbling around him and he couldn’t keep his feelings from coming to the surface.

Do you want to see me beggin' baby

Can't you give me just one more day

Can't you see my heart's been draggin' lately

I've been lookin' for the words to say

Don't know what you got till it's gone

Don't know what it is I did so wrong

Now I know what I got

It's just this song

And it ain't easy to get back

Takes so long

The last notes of the song filled the air as Dean chugged the rest of the whiskey in the bottle. He could only wish for one more day, one more chance. He’d blown it and he had to deal with the consequences. If only everyone knew how he had planned on dealing with them, in a constant drunken stupor.

Y/N took a shower to calm down after her mental breakdown. The text from Mary was still in the back of her mind. She knew she needed to let him go and not look back, but she couldn’t help but worry. Y/N decided to give her mother-in-law a call to put this to rest once and for all. Y/N dialed Mary’s number and braced herself for the conversation she was about to have.

“Hello,” Mary answered.

“Hi, Mary. It’s Y/N,” she said with hesitation. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.

“Y/N! Oh honey, how are you?” Mary asked with concern.

“I’ve been better,” she answered honestly.

“I know sweetie. I’m so sorry, Y/N! I raised him better than that and I’m ashamed of how he betrayed you,” Mary’s voice getting softer as she finished speaking.

“It’s not your fault. He’s a grown man. He knew what he was doing,” Y/N wasn’t sugarcoating anything with his mother.

“He’s bad off, Y/N. I walked up on him screaming at his father’s grave and blaming him for everything last night,” Mary said in almost a whisper.

“What?!” Y/N asked in shock. Dean had only been to John’s grave a handful of times since he passed.

“I’ve never seen him that upset, Y/N, granted he was drunk, but he wasn’t that upset when John died,” Mary said, the sadness and worry evident in her voice.

“I don’t know what you think I can do, Mary. I’m not trying to be rude, but what am I supposed to do?” she asked exasperated.

“Go talk to him, Y/N. I know I have no right to ask you to do this, but talk to him and convince him to let you go without drinking himself to death! He won’t listen to any of us,” Mary pleaded with her.

“Fine! He’s not going to listen to me either, but I’ll try,” Y/N said with a sigh.

“Thank you, sweetie! I appreciate it! Bye, Y/N,” Mary said, hanging up the phone.

Y/N hung her head and groaned. How did she let herself get roped into doing this? She still had two hours before she had to meet Steven for lunch, so she decided to just go get it over with. She hoped that Mary had been exaggerating and that Dean wasn’t that bad, but she knew him too well. She grabbed her wallet and keys and headed to the door to go try to talk some sense into her soon-to-be ex-husband.

What Y/N saw when she walked through the front door made her heart ache. Dean was passed out, whiskey bottle still in hand. He looked like he hadn’t shaved or showered in days; he was a pitiful sight to take in. She walked over and took the bottle from his hand, setting it down on the coffee table as she took a seat next to it.

“Dean, wake up!” Y/N exclaimed as she tried to shake him awake.

The smell of the whiskey emanating from him made her stomach churn. She had seen him drink his feelings away before, but this was an all-time low. Y/N shook him again as he started to stir.

“We need to talk, Dean,” she said, trying to keep her voice void of all emotion.

“Y/N?!” Dean questioned as his eyes went wide at the sight of his wife before him. It had to be a dream.

“What the hell, Dean? What are you trying to accomplish here? Have you seen yourself? You look awful!” Y/N said as she shook her head.

“Hey, baby! I miss you,” Dean said as he reached out to run his finger down her cheek.

“Stop it, Dean! I’m here to tell you to get your shit together. Do you know that your mother practically begged me to come and knock some sense into you? She’s worried you are going to drink yourself into the grave and now I can see why she thinks that,” Y/N said as her voice began to crack. He’d hurt her, and their marriage was over, but seeing him like this was killing her.

“Come on sweetheart….I’m fine. Nothing to worry about,” Dean said slurring his words.

“You don’t look fine to me. You look like shit and you need to get a grip on yourself. This is ridiculous, Dean!” Y/N resorted to yelling, hoping it would make him listen because her heart was breaking seeing him so broken.

“Ridiculous?! I’m being ridiculous? I’m not the one who walked away and left me here for dead!” Dean yelled as he tried to sit up but to no avail.

“I’m not doing this with you, Dean. Get your shit together and move on! I won’t be back to have this conversation again!” Y/N growled as she stood to leave.

“I’m sorry baby! Don’t leave me, please! I love you Y/N, please come home,” Dean begged as he grabbed for her hand but was too drunk to catch her.

“I’m sorry Dean. We’re over, so please get a hold of yourself and move on. If you won’t do it for your family then do it for me, please?” Y/N said with her back to the drunken man.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to respond before she walked out the door, slamming it shut behind her. She couldn’t let him know how seeing him like that had affected her. She barely made it to her car when the tears began to stain her cheeks. She promised herself that morning that she wouldn’t cry over him again, but seeing the shell of the man he once was had been too much to take.

@flamencodiva @sorenmarie87 @foxyjwls007​ @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @voltage-my2dlove @hardcoresupernatural @msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24  @deanmonandnegansbitch  @akshi8278 @midsummereve1993 @sutton2001  @emory91  @halesandy  @miss-nerd95  @ellewritesfix05  @bxbyizzy  @winchest09  @adoptdontshoppets  @defenderrosetyler  @hobby27  @whatareyousearchingfordean  @talesmaniac89  @deanwanddamons  @atc74  @superfanficnatural  @smol-and-grumpy  @supernatural-love14  @vicmc624  @squirrelnotsam  @tatted-trina6  @xhannahbananax03  @coffeebooksandfandom  @nihilismworld  @winchester-wifey  @mrsfox79  @malfoysqueen14  @moron225  @deans-baby-momma  @lovelyrocker  @fablesrose  @queenofchaos7  @maralisa124  @deangirl93  @aimee-ginge  @anathewierdo  @donnaintx  @screechingartisancashbailiff 

[wildlittlefoxsworld]

Hey! I saw you were thirsty for Andy requests and I was wondering if you could do one were reader is possible Merrick’s sibling and they are there when Merrick meets with Copley and they don’t want Merrick hurting people so they head out to try and help the gang? I hope that makes sense and reader falls in love with Andy?

Rescue Mission | The Old Guard | Andy x Fem!Merrick!Reader

A/N: I liked to write this, and at the end there's a little Andy x reader bonding ;)

***

You were the COO of your brothers pharmacy company and worked for him since you graduated from college. Your brother and you had never a good relationship, but you were still family and you took the job to make him a favor. He wanted the best person and you were the best.

You were sitting in the car on the way back from the conference with your brother and Dr. Meta Kozak. But a man named James Copley, a former CIA agent, accompanied you and showed Steven a video that catched his interest.

Steven gave the tablet to Dr. Kozak and you watched it with her. “Is that real?” you asked shocked and your eyes widened.

“Yes, as real as all of us,” Copley responded seriously.

“Get them all. I want them,” Steven demanded and Copled nodded sharply.

“What do you want with them? What does this mean?” you interrupted him angirly.

“They're immortal, sister. And I want to discover their secret, well, Dr. Kozak will and with the knowlegde we could save thousands of life. You will make sure everything runs smoothly and we make profit as soon as possible.”

You gulped when he observed you strictly and you nodded in understanding.

“That will change the world, sister,” Steven added pleased and winked at you.

Suddenly you felt very nauseous and rolled the car window down to get fresh air.

You couldn't believe that your brother wanted to experiment with humans. Innocent humans that would suffer, because of Steven's greed for profit and power in the pharmacy industry.

You didn't agree with his plans and you needed something to do.

“When will they arrive?” you tried to sound professional and looked at Steven and Copley.

“If everything works like planned we will have them here tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” you confirmed and watched the video a second time. You wouldn't let your brother and his team hurt them.

The next morning they brought two men with chained hands in front of their bodies in the private suite that you shared with your brother.

“Welcome gentlemen,” Steven exclaimed and started to explain the men why they were here. The arabic man banged Steven's head with his and Steven attacked him with a paper knife afterwards.

“Steven! Are you insane?” you yelled, but no one paid intention to you, because all watched the man healing and Dr. Kozak mumbled something about the noble price. You shook your head in disbelief and you heard your brother said that he won't ask for any permission. After the events of the last few minutes you realized that there wasn't any moral or compassion inside of your brother or Dr. Kozak.

After the men were numbed and carried in the laboratory, you took deep breaths to calm your racing pulse.

“Sister, watch your tone. I was very patient with you, one more and you're no longer part of this project or company anymore.”

“You're a monster, Steven. Watch out that someone won't stab you with a paper knife some day,” you snapped at him and your voice was filled with disgust and hate.

Steven blinked a few times and looked stunned.

“If you excuse me, I need to work,” you spoke firmly and walked out before he could respond.

You found only the two men strapped down with their torso bare in the laboratory.

Dr. Kozak was no where to see and you approached the sleeping men carefully. You admitted that they were very handsome, despite they were covered in blood. Well, you didn't really have a plan how you could help them, but first they needed to be awake.

“Can you hear me?” you asked quietly and touched the shoulder of the arabic man with the beard.

“Come on, wake up,” you said louder, but he stayed unconscious.

“Don't touch him,” a voice behind you mumbled and you flinched. You glanced at the other man and smiled a little.

“Alright, you're awake, listen to me. I know you see in me enemy and all, but we have no time for this and need to be quick before anyone gets a clue what is going on. I'm sure you're advanced in fighting, because there are many guards outside and if you're capable of disarming them, then you could find a way out of here. I will make your straps off now,” you explained your plan and the man watched you suspicious. Well, of course, he was confused, but you didn't wait for an answer and reached for the straps.

In the next moment the door of the lab was pushed open with a bang and you stopped in your tracks.

“Miss Merrick, I instruct you to step away from the test subjects and put your hands behind your head,” the aimed guard shouted.

You needed to handle fast and unstrapped the man, but you couldn't turn around to his friend, because pain exploded in your back when a bullet hit you there.

Your breath hitched and you broke down on the floor. You were sure the bullet injured your ribs and your lungs, because every try to breath hurt and it felt like you couldn't fill your lungs with air. There was preasure in your chest and your sight got blurry.

You heard Dr. Kozak yelling something, but then everything went dark.

You felt something pulling you out of your unconsciousness and you heard muffled voices. You couldn't remember what happened, but you knew that your body hurt so much when you breathed and you braced yourself for the pain when you inhaled the much needed air. But there wasn't any pain and you took a few more breaths.

You realized you laid on your back and there was a thin white linen over your face, you panicked and pulled the fabric down with your hands. In the process you sat up and looked at five persons that starred shocked at you.

“What the fuck happened?” you cursed and your head spunned for a second.

“You were shot and then you died, we saw it,” one of the persons told you and you recognized him as the man you freed from the straps.

“Am I still dead? No, I'm not, because you can't die and… well, I lose the thread,” you responded and you climbed off the table you had laid on. You looked down on your body, there was a lot of blood and you only wore your skirt and a black bra.

“Why am I almost naked?” you asked dumfounded.

“The doctor tried to save your life, but she failed,” the man explained further.

There were three men and two women. One of the men was blonde and pulled off his leather-jacket to give it to you. “Thank you,” you said relieved and put it on, it was too big, but at least you were covered.

“Seems we got another one,” the arabic man deadpanned and you quirked an eyebrow.

“Welcome to the team,” the brunette woman acknowledged and handed you a gun. “You can handle a this thing?”

“Well, my daddy loved guns and we spend many days on the shooting stand. At least I never miss my target.”

“Well, these are humans…,” the italien man started to explain, but you snorted and loaded the gun.

“I like hunting, and this… it's familiar.” You nodded certainly to show you were determined to fight.

“Let's go,” the brunette woman ordered and you followed them outside the laboratory.

“Y/N,” your brother whispered confused and shocked. “You are alive?”

“Surprise.”

The way to the suite was sustained and you shot so many men you had lost counting. Now your brother pointed a gun on Andy, the brunette woman, and hold an axe in his other hand.

“That's interesting. I should tell you that I odered to shoot you if you wouldn't obey. Well, doesn't matter, I'll shoot her and at least I got one victory out of this…”

You laughed short. “I live, but you'll die today and you won't come back, so you could never hurt anyone of us again.”

“Hey, Nile,” Andy muttered. “You think he speaks russian?”

Then everything went very fast and Nile jumped out of the broken window with your brother. You looked down on the street. “Rest in hell, asshole.”

Andy gave you a side glance and a slight smile.

“You're a very tough and brave. You're a good shooter and on your fighting skills we will work,” she praised you and you felt flattered. A little blush was spreading on your cheeks and you smiled back. You had to admit you felt attracted to her.

A few days later you were with your friends and sort of family somewhere in a unknown cottage in the woods.

You learned that Andy was mortal now and Nicky and Joe were absolute most adorable couple you ever met. The blonde man named Booker was exiled, because he betrayed the group when he helped Copley to kidnap his family members, so your brother could experiment on them.

And you were the new immortal ‘baby’ in the group, well, Nile and you.

“Are you alright?” Andy asked you when she found you sitting in the garden.

“I'm okay. Most of my questions are answered and I need to get used to the thought that I will live for a very long time. It's a bit scary,” you replied and shrugged sighing.

“It will get better.”

“I hope.”

“Can I ask you something?” Andy sounded suddenly nervous and you watched her worriedly.

“Of course,” you encouraged her.

“I know I'm mortal now and I don't have the best expectations for the future… but I would like getting to know you better. Is there any chance you want that too?”

“I don't care if you're mortal or not. I like you anyway and yes, I would like to know you better,” you answered smiling and took her hand in yours.

She smiled back and sat down on the bench beside you.

“I think I'm a little rosted to court someone. But what would you like to do?” Andy suggested.

“We can sit here and telling each other something about our lifes and we see what we both like to do.”

***

Please like, comment and reblog ;)

[bluerosewritings]

Tarts and Kisses | Riddle x Fem!Reader

[Originally posted on “The Heart Mirror” on Wattpad]

Riddle stared at his phone, biting his lip. The red head wasn't usually one for late nights - if things were going his way, he would have finished going over his notes half an hour ago and would now be sleeping. Unfortunately, things were not going his way.

Because of rule 373 of the Queen of Hearts - 'if one is unable to be near the person of their affection, they must partake in a form of communication at the 9th hour of the 5th night' - the two of you always called each other at nine o'clock every Friday. The two of you had also decided to alternate who called who each week, this week being your turn to call.

Yet you hadn't called.

At first, Riddle had brushed it off as you being distracted. Sure, he was a little annoyed that you hadn't properly adhered to the rules, but whenever you hadn't in the past you usually had a proper reason.

So when Riddle watched the clock hit ten, he began to worry. Surely you wouldn't have taken this long to call? As menial as the calls were, you'd told him often how you "loved just hearing his voice". Maybe you fell asleep? But wouldn't you have told him how tired you were?

Unable to take it any longer, Riddle left his room. As he passed by the dorm lounge, he caught a glimpse of Trey out the corner of his eye.

"You're back late, Trey," Riddle said, slowing down his pace, "are you finished with the food for tomorrow's Unbirthday Party?"

"Hmm? Oh, Riddle. Thought you'd be asleep by now." Trey replied.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm on my way to check on (y/n)," Riddle frowned, "she missed our Friday call, and I... need to make sure that she has a proper reason."

Trey smiled, knowing how soft Riddle could be when it came to enforcing rules on you. Then realisation dawned on him.

"Ah, Riddle, she won't be in her dorm," Trey explained, "I asked her to help me with the last of the Unbirthday Party food, but we had an accident... nothing major. But it probably distracted her."

"I see... thank you, Trey. Make sure nothing happens while I'm gone."

"W-Wait, Riddle...!"

—

You pushed the tart to the back of the fridge. After closing the door, you looked over at the other treats lined up on the cafeteria kitchen's windowsill. Trey had said that they would be better there instead of the fridge.

Next, you walked over to the oven and peered at the tray of cookies. Rows of hearts, spades, clovers, diamonds and roses were hardening nicely from what you could tell. Since you'd left them until last, Trey had said to just let them cool and he'd ice them in the morning. That just left...

You turned around and grimaced. The giant pile of flour and the wrapping they exploded from taunted you. Where did they keep the broom again...?

Before you could begin your search, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your body. You turned around to see who it was only to have a pair of lips crash against yours mid-turn.

At first you panicked, then your eyes noticed a familiar heart-shaped cowlick. Relieved, you relax into the kiss, wrapping your own arms around your boyfriend. When you sadly pull apart, Riddle presses a kiss on your cheek. You smile and nuzzle your face into his neck, allowing him to press a third kiss on the top of your head.

"You worried me." Riddle mumbled, stroking the back of your head.

"Worried?" You frowned. "Why?"

Riddle sighed. "(y/n), it's nearly 11."

"Wait, what?" You pulled away from the hug and went over to your bag. Once you fished your phone out, you cringed at the time on the display. "Oh, Riddle, I'm so sorry..."

"As you had a genuine reason, I'll let you off the hook this time," Riddle said kissing your other cheek, "however, next time it'll be off with your head. Understand?"

You giggled. "Yes, my Queen."

Before you could lean in for another, the oven timer went off. Remembering the cookies, you cursed and grabbed the oven mitts.

Riddle watches as you start unloading the cookies onto a cooling tray, his eyes brightening with amusement as you start moving the rose-shaped ones.

"Did you do these one?" He asks.

"That obvious?" You chuckle, feeling your cheeks light up slightly.

Riddle shakes his head, smiling. "We don't usually have rose-shaped cookies for the Unbirthday Party, so I figured you must have thought of it instead of Trey. They're cute."

"T-Thanks." You stammer.

You push the rack backwards towards the rest of the treats. Riddle takes the oven mitts off you and puts them away as you make room for all of them.

"Is everything meant to be on the side?" Riddle asks when he's back by your side.

You nod. "Trey said only the tarts had to go in the fridge. Everything else was better off on the side to cool - I was just making sure the cookies were easy to reach, since they need to be iced in the morning..."

Riddle hums in response. "If you want, I could help you move everything to Heartslabyul. That way-"

"No!" Riddle looks at you, confused. "I-I mean, I don't wanna risk dropping anything! Since, y'know, w-we won't have any time to remake it..."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded quickly.

"Very well..." He said, not full believing you but deciding not to push it. Maybe you were just tired.

You sighed in relief. Riddle already seeing the rose cookies was already a bit of a let down, but as long as he didn't see what was in the fridge, it wasn't all for nothing.

Your eyes caught sight of the flour pile again. "Oh, shoot, I forgot about that... Riddle, do you know where they keep the cleaning broom?"

Riddle followed your line of vision and saw the pile. It was almost up to his ankles, with parts of their bags sticking out. This must of been the accident Trey was talking about - flour bags all exploding on the ground.

He took a look at your face and decided it was best not to ask. Now that he got a good look at you, there were bags under your eyes. You really were tired.

"Allow me." Taking out his magic pen, Riddle chanted a short spell.

The flour and paper bags lifted off the floor. With another flick of his wrist, two of the bins opened and the levitating items sorted themselves into them.

You let out a sigh of relief and kissed your boyfriend's cheek. "Thanks. I really didn't want to deal with that..."

Riddle chuckled, catching your hand in his. "I could tell. Was there anything else? Or can I walk you back to your dorm now?"

"You may." You say with a smile.

You threaded your fingers between his as the two of you set off. While you tried to listen to what you boyfriend was telling you, a mix of tiredness and thoughts of tomorrow were making it near impossible. Even as you kissed Riddle goodnight and waved him off, all you could think about was his future smile at your present.

—

The horns sounded off. "Our great leader! The Crimson Ruler! Announcing Dorm Head Riddle!"

"Dorm Head Riddle! Hip hip hooray!"

He really did look like royalty, you thought, watching Riddle walk down to the head table, crown balanced on his head and cape fluttering behind him. As according to the laws of the Queen of Hearts, Trey as vice dorm leader was to his left and you as his girlfriend were to his right. Not wanting to risk any chance of him seeing your gift, you shifted your legs slightly to block the bag as best as you could, Riddle luckily being too preoccupied with checking the decorations to notice your fidgeting.

"You all have your teacups?" Cater nudged you and you quickly grabbed your teacup's handle. "Today is nobody's birthday, so to this Unbirthday Party! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Rang out across the field.

You took a sip - earl grey for this month - and looked over at Riddle. His gaze was directed towards the selection of tarts Trey had made; berries and cream, raspberry almond crumb, brown butter apple. You saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes. Figuring now was the perfect time, you placed down your cup.

You pulled the bag onto your lap. "Riddle?"

Riddle turned to you. "Yes?"

Surprise lit up his face when you emptied the bag. Carefully, you held out a strawberry tart towards him. The tart was slightly smaller than the others, with the strawberry slices carefully arranged into the shape of a heart.

"Sorry if I seemed a little off yesterday," you said as he takes the tart off you, "I just didn't want you to find out. You're always so kind to me, helping me out even when we weren't dating... I wanted to do something for you in return."

A soft smile grew on Riddle's face. You swear you could feel your heart jump out of your chest when you two made eye contact, the adoration in his eyes making you melt. The kiss he pressed against your cheek didn't help.

"Thank you." Riddle seemed to whisper in your ear.

Riddle pulled away and placed the tart on a plate. Carefully, he took out a knife and cut out a slice, placing it on his plate.

"Shouldn't Ace do that for you?" You asked, remembering the Queen of Hearts rule 41.

"I'd rather do it myself." Riddle replied, prompting a small blush grew on your cheeks.

While Riddle tried to keep his adult composure, inside he was like a gleeful child. Cutting away part of the tart, Riddle couldn't stop his heart rate growing at the thought of you making this especially for him. It tasted different from Trey's - a little heavier, but somehow sweeter. So sweet. It was addicting.

He glanced over at you. You were watching him nervously, smiling when he caught your eye. Spearing another part of the tart, he brought it to your lips.

"Say 'aah'." Riddle wasn't usually one for public affection, but he felt it was only right to share the tart with you. The red glow on your face was nice too.

The tart hadn't tasted exactly how you thought it would, but watching Riddle immediately return to finish off the slice before cutting off another. As he offered you another taste, you wondered if Trey would let you help with baking again.

[joheun-saram]

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

previous  | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut 

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger's house. 

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash. 

As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year. 

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head. 

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous.

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter. 

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

  ____________________________

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session. 

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that. 

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[purpletigertaetae]

The One Where Things Get Heated in a Fitting Room

A/N: @lyspjm​ babe, I’m an ass who made a colossal mistake and deleted the older post by accident so I’m reposting the story 😂😂 🤦🏽‍♀️ 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: smutty smut smuuuuut

Warnings: this is a smutty boi so... erm, Oral sex, deep throating, lingerie, kinda public sex, kissing, heavy petting, though no actual penetrative sex, public nudity (of sorts?), it’s very smutty so be warned ~ 

SECOND A/N: I’m AN IDIOT who deleted the original post so I’m going to go find it and reblog and just UGH. If y’all could reblog I’d be mighty grateful!

5. “Try to stay quiet, understand?”; 25. “We could get caught!”; 67. Changing room & 106. Lingerie

What were you supposed to do when Namjoon had looked at you, his eyes widening with his pleas; say no? Even his words had tugged at your heart, “Jagi please! I miss you! Can’t we go shopping together?”

The maknaes had taught him well, and you had found yourself agreeing to his pouty lips and deep dimples. It has been a while since you had spent time with your boyfriend but how were you supposed to go lingerie shopping without your best friends’ approvals?

You sighed, “Fine baby, let’s go together! But I need to actually buy some things okay? No getting distracted.” He had nodded and you had found yourself outside Agent Provocateur with your boyfriend’s hands laden with bags. You asked him to wait outside, but he had gone slack jawed and followed you, taking a seat right near the fitting rooms as you picked out a couple things both you and he might like, a naughty idea forming inside your head.

~

“How does this one look Joonie?” You came out of the dressing room dressed in a light pink babydoll, a matching bra and panties and the highest heels in the store and Namjoon swears he has never been more turned on. You had to be doing this to tease him now. He had been sitting here for what seemed like years, watching you try on different lacy underwear and lingerie, getting more turned on, more in awe at your beauty. He couldn't stop staring, the way the lace flattered your skin, the way the babydoll hugged your waist, like it was made for you. He couldn't think, couldn’t breathe and his pants were definitely getting tighter by the minute. It had been his idea to come shopping with you, but this shop, this hour, these clothes had been unexpected to say the least.

You cleared your throat as Namjoon ogled you, lost in his thoughts, but his dark gaze pulling color to your cheeks.

"Joon? What do you think?"

He snapped to, shaking his head trying his hardest to form actual sentences.

"Looks good." He tried, wincing when it actually came out as a "luh goo." He cleared his throat and tried again, "You look beautiful baby. Just beautiful."

You blushed deeply and turned, throwing a, "be right back!" over your shoulder as Namjoon sighed and shifted your purse right over his crotch. He definitely knew the boner he was sporting would not fare well in public but it just would not go down. He sighed carding his fingers through his hair, and tugging in frustration. He needed to fix this now. He tossed your purse aside, the establishment was classy, he wasn't worried, and stood from the plush couch, making his way to you. He knocked on your fitting room door, firm but loud, his need almost indescribable. You opened it, barely dressed, thinking it was just a sales associate to help, but to your surprise, in the doorway stood your boyfriend, Namjoon.

His stare was dark, eyes hooded as he looked over your lace covered form, eyes roaming over your tits, your waist, your thinly veiled pussy. His gaze grew hungry and you turned red, a jolt going through you as he kicked the door shut and locked it.

“Take it off baby girl. All of it.”

“Joon, No! We could get caught!”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you decided to tease me. Now, be quick princess. I don’t like waiting.” He growled, and your breath hitched in anticipation; you had pushed your game a tad too far.

Namjoon watched, silent, as you unclasped your bra, letting it drop slowly from your shoulders. His gaze grew impossibly darker as you turned around and shimmied out of the lacy thong, finally being fully naked under his gaze. You turned deep red as he scrutinized you, drinking in your form.

He cleared his throat, his voice raw, “You grow more beautiful every day Jagi.”

He took two steps and covered the distance to you. For a moment you two just stared at each other, holding your breaths and then like a bubble being burst his lips were on yours, his hands running up and down your body, resting for moments on your hardened nipples before taking off again and finding your slit, drenched in your wetness.

He moved his lips to your neck, leaving light openmouthed kisses and murmuring against the skin, “You’ve been naughty princess. Teasing me all afternoon. Now,” he rutted his jean clad cock against your bare core, “You had better finish what you started, and try to stay quiet, we can’t have anyone finding us, understand?”

You dropped to your knees and undid his belt and jeans, pushing them down past his knees as he leaned back against the wall and threaded his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face. You reached into his boxer briefs and pulled out his already hardening cock, as he groaned deeply, his hands tightening in your hair. You thumbed over his leaking head, gathering the beads of precum on your fingers and running it up and down his length. He was so large you could barely get your hand around him, and your pussy throbbed, anticipating the stretch already. You lowered your mouth onto his throbbing member, kissing the head gently, pumping your hands up and down around his shaft, spitting and collecting your saliva to lube him up even further. Then you squeezed gently, eliciting a hiss from your boyfriend.

“Stop playing games, princess. I don’t like being teased.” Namjoon’s voice was low and gravely and you moaned, rutting on thin air trying to get any sort of friction around your clit. He guided you back onto his cock and you finally took him into your mouth, your hands covering what your mouth could not.

He moaned low in his throat, “Your mouth is sin Jagi,” and fisted your hair tighter, pulling it into a haphazard ponytail away from your face. You moaned around him, the vibrations of your throat causing him to stiffen even more. As you sucked, he, almost involuntarily, bucked his hips into your mouth, pushing into your gag reflex, making you choke.

He was off you instantly, eyes wide, “Sorry Jagi! Are you hurt?”

You stopped him with a hush, hands still on his stiff member. “No, Joon. I, uh, actually kinda liked it.” Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you spoke, your voice husky, “Use me baby. Fuck my mouth.”

He stared at you, a groan deep in his throat. “How did I get so lucky?”

You lowered your mouth back onto him, taking him as deeply as you possibly could, breathing deeply through your nose as he pushed past your gag reflex and began a rough pace, in and out of your mouth. Your eyes began watering at his intensity, drool dripping, as he fucked your mouth messily, his fingers in a vice grip in your hair.

Soon, almost too soon, he was moaning softly, “Jagi, jagi I’m close. I’m so close.” You hummed around his cock, relaxing your jaw even more as he began a merciless pace trying to reach his climax. His grip tightened in your hair and his hips started thrusting messily as his orgasm exploded, ropes of cum painting your throat over and over. You sucked quickly, swallowing every last drop as he spilled into you, and finally he let your hair go, leaning his head back against the wall, panting softly.

“Jagi that… that was awesome. Thank you.” You stood up and his hands came to cup your cheeks, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. You smiled and kissed him, leading his hand down to your dripping cunt. Almost like whiplash, he drew his hand away, his lips quirking into a devilish smile.

“I don’t think so princess. You teased me all afternoon and this was just my respite. You don’t get to cum.” He dropped a feather light kiss onto your lips one last time and then pulled up his pants, readjusting and cleaning himself up. Before you could even register, he was pulling open the door to the fitting room, and as he left, he replied, “I like it all Princess. Buy it all.”

You just stood there, completely nude, shocked and horny. Guess it was your turn to be teased for a while.

[queenangst]

Just the softest fucking dad might you are capable of. I want to go into wholesome toxic shock.

[Read on AO3]

As Toshinori made his way through Heights Alliance, the rooms came alive with the sound of tapping feet and overlapping voices, swelling into a loud beat that seemed to echo his own heart. Students passed quickly, though a few stopped to talk to him— and everyone who stopped said thank you. Toshinori gave out hugs and squeezed shoulders like nobody’s business, his only specialty besides the whole Symbol of Peace thing. 

“All Might!” 

Iida waved him over, and Toshinori beamed. He fixed Iida’s shirt then folded the boy into a gentle hug. Iida flushed. When Toshinori let go, Iida stepped back, his face still pink, and bowed deeply. 

“Thank you for teaching us,” he said. The words were no less earnest than he was—genuine and honest. Iida smiled faintly, but the corner of his mouth went a little crooked when he spoke again. “Though, ah- All Might, you wouldn’t have happened to see Izuku, would you…?”

Toshinori raised his brows as Iida looked up, hopeful. 

“I haven’t, young Iida,” Toshinori replied carefully. “Are you… looking for him?”

Iida waved a hand at the common room. “Almost everyone’s accounted for,” he explained, pushing up his glasses. “Almost. We’re getting some emergency uniform repairs done—the sole of Ochako’s shoe’s worn through, and Bakugou, ah, tore his sleeve. Half the class is working on it. I haven’t seen Izuku, though, and we have twenty minutes before we must leave, at the latest.” 

Toshinori chuckled. Uraraka was indeed floating mid-air, hair soft around her face. One foot hung down, shoeless. She had a hand latched onto Todoroki’s shoulder as a group of students crowded around, poking haphazardly at a shoe like it was a ticking time bomb. Nearby, Bakugou had his arms crossed and was glaring at everyone; Toshinori realized he could see Bakugou’s arms, which, in context, was not ideal.

“Just make another shoe. Use your Quirk, dammit!”

“We could fix it—”

“Oh! Ochako, just don’t wear shoes, and then it’ll look like it’s on purpose- oh, or we could all not wear shoes!”

Bakugou threw up his hands. Toshinori’s brows went further up. His sleeve had quite the tear. “You’re all dumbasses, the lot of you.”

Iida closed his eyes. The class exploded into good-natured teasing, and a fair amount of yelling— some things hadn’t changed, and this was one of them. Iida marched over and began to direct the rest of the class, arms waving. Toshinori smiled. He’d miss them. Every one of them. It wouldn’t be the same, after this, but the years had taught him about change; and change was coming for the better.

Toshinori slipped past his kids down the hall and made his way to Izuku’s room. He knocked. Knocked again. 

“Young Izuku?”

After counting to ten, Toshinori pushed the door in, peeking through. His face stared back at him; Toshinori stilled, then remembered Izuku’s room was still plastered with— well, him. 

“Young Izuku?” He knocked against the doorframe and looked around. “Are you here?”

Izuku wouldn’t be in any of the other dorms, at least not without reason. Toshinori reached blindly into his pocket and felt his fingers brush over the small gift. Good. It was still there, but now Toshinori could only hope he’d have the chance to give it. 

There was a bang from the bathroom, and then the floor flew open and Izuku’s face appeared. He blinked, eyes innocent.

“Did- oh- um, hi!” Izuku grinned, but the smile faltered after a moment. “Hi, All Might…” 

Toshinori stepped closer. “I was looking for you.” Tipped his head towards the door. “And so are your friends. If you don’t hurry up, young Izuku, you’re going to miss your own graduation.” 

Izuku’s mouth wobbled. He was half-dressed: most of his uniform was on, but his shirt was rumpled, and Toshinori saw no sign of the tie or the blazer. Toshinori’s heart stumbled for a moment. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” A beat. “Well, mostly. It’s fine. Did you… did you need me?” 

Izuku blinked rapidly. Toshinori stepped forward fast enough to catch Izuku when he started crying—quiet but present in the wet spot on Toshinori’s shoulder and the shaking body under his hands. 

“What are you crying for?” Toshinori ran a hand through Izuku’s hair. “It’s a happy day, isn’t it?” 

“Everything’s changing,” Izuku mumbled into a mouthful of shirt. “It’s- it’s going to, it’s going to be different.” 

Toshinori paused. Even after the years, he had to carefully consider what to say. 

“Are you scared?”

But Izuku was already shaking his head no. Somehow the question drew a smile out of him; his mouth widened and curled up, and Toshinori felt his heart lift in response. 

“I didn’t think I would ever be here,” Izuku admitted. He lifted an arm up and pressed it over his eyes for a second. “I wanted to so badly, I dreamed of it for- for so long but I- even after getting into U.A. sometimes it was still so hard to think that I could make it. Here.” 

Every now and then, in a spare, dark moment, Toshinori imagined a life without Izuku in it. He passed under a different bridge, took another route; there was no villain; he’d taken up Nighteye’s offer and passed his Quirk to Mirio. There were so many threads, so many different directions, but this was the one universe where Toshinori had managed to take all the right, winding paths to lead him to Izuku. Sometimes, in those daydreams—those nightmares—he never made it at all. 

“I wasn’t sure myself,” Toshinori said, words slow. He curled a thumb under Izuku’s jaw. “But I am… very happy that we’re both here.” 

Izuku sniffed. He understood. “Yeah.” 

“No more crying,” Toshinori told him, “save it for later, alright? You can have my share.” 

“Soon…”

Toshinori cuffed Izuku gently on the head. “You’re not ready.” 

Izuku glanced down at his uniform and flushed. “Yeah- I need to. Yeah.”

“You don’t want to be late,” Toshinori reminded him, “not for this.” 

“My tie—”

Izuku darted into the bathroom and reemerged with his tie and his blazer hanging over his arm. Toshinori considered him; for a while, in the early years, Izuku sometimes looked like he was being swallowed in his uniform. A little too big for him in places. Shoulders hunched in a way that made it seem bigger. Now he filled it—his presence, his certainty. 

Izuku slipped the blazer over his shoulders, then paused when he was holding the tie. Toshinori wondered if they were both thinking of the same memory, a quiet moment in first year when Izuku, nervous, had asked if All Might could teach him to tie his tie correctly. 

Toshinori held an expectant hand out. “Here.” 

Izuku handed over the slip of fabric without a word, bowing his head as Toshinori fit it around his neck. Years of practice put the tie in its place, and Toshinori’s hand stopped, resting on Izuku’s chest. Izuku had been watching him quietly, but now he blinked and gazed back at Toshinori. 

There was a lump in his throat. He couldn’t get the words out— this was the last time… 

“I’m… proud of you,” Toshinori choked out. “You know that.” 

Izuku wrapped a hand around Toshinori’s wrist. Then he bowed as best he could. Followed it with two more.

“Thank you,” he said, “thank you, thank you…”

“You’re going to be a great hero. I can’t wait to see it.” How could he say everything he meant? You have made my life better. You’re going to make so many more lives better. You are going to change the world. 

“I still need you with me,” Izuku said, stepping back. They turned and left the room together, went down the hall. “You know that, right?” 

“To tie all your ties for you?” Toshinori teased. Izuku smiled so hard it looked like it hurt, but Toshinori couldn’t imagine smiling as anything but easy. Izuku glanced sideways at him, eyes bright. 

“And everything else.” 

Toshinori put his arm around Izuku. Later, he knew, there would be crying, and an endless stream of thank you’s and congratulations and you made it, you made it, you have made it. Flowers, fleeting; photographs, lasting. He would commit every second of it to memory. And… everything else. 

The student Izuku would walk in and step out as the pro hero Deku. Toshinori would know him, see every part of him. He would have everything before and everything after.

He’d never imagined himself here, but in sudden clarity Toshinori realized he couldn’t picture himself anywhere else that wasn’t next to Izuku. 

“I’m here,” he said; it was the right thing to say, and Izuku smiled back knowingly. They walked together down the hall, and Toshinori was the most thankful for it.