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aellynera · 4 years ago

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Accidental Anniversary (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

ACCIDENTAL ANNIVERSARY

💜💘 Happy Valentine’s Fic Exchange, @samrockweil 💘💜

I am your Valentine’s elf (or maybe cupid?) It was an absolute blast writing this for you!! At first I couldn’t decide which guy to write for, but Llewyn spoke to me and I ran with it and I hope you love it even half as half as much as I did writing it. Happy reading and happy beeps!

Also, huge thanks to @sergeantkane for putting this fic exchange together! Love you Clarke!

Word Count: around 8k oops look i had a whole MONTH okay i’m not sorry

Summary: You meet Llewyn Davis one night at the Gaslight, and soon find out that the universe has an odd sense of humor and an even weirder sense of timing.

Warnings: A few curses. Nothing else, it’s 99.999999999% fluffy fluff.

March 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a whiskey, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as your boss flips the power on.

You’ve been working there for a couple weeks, a side job to help make your rent and keep you busy on the weekends. It’s not a terrible gig, most of the time; the patrons are pleasant enough, the performers hit or miss, and Pappi, your boss, is okayish, so long as you can mostly steer clear of him.

You begin to wipe down part of the bar while the next performer sets up on the small, dingy stage. You haven’t seen him before, but whispers from the stools at the counter hint he’s semi-popular around these parts. You quirk an eyebrow; he certainly is easy on the eyes, at least.

From the minute he takes the stage, your focus is ninety percent on him (you do need a little brain power to do your job, after all) and you find that he is also very easy on the ears. Dark curls, dark beard, dark eyes, dark clothes, but a surprisingly bright voice singing lovely songs. He finishes his set, comes off the stage, and sidles up to the bar. You hand him the requested bourbon with a soft smile.

And the next thing you know, Pappi is on the ground and this stranger is holding his hand, wincing, flexing his fingers. Your mouth drops open.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “What--”

“Jesus Christ, Llewyn,” Pappi groans from the floor. “I was only kidding.”

“Yeah, doubt that,” this Llewyn person mutters under his breath, taking a seat on the stool closest to him. “Can I bother you for some ice?”

You keep a wary eye on him, and on Pappi as he gets up and wanders to the other side of the room like nothing happened, and wrap some ice cubes in a towel and hand it to him. “You decked him.”

He scoffs and takes a sip of his drink. “You hear what he said about you?”

Well, no, you hadn’t actually, but having heard what Pappi has said about others in the club over the past two weeks, you can imagine. “I can handle him,” you say archly.

“I’m sure you can,” a huff of air escapes his lips, “but you shouldn’t have to.” He turns around to look at Pappi, who just glares and shakes his head. The man in front of you flips your boss off.

You refill his glass without him asking and stick out your hand, telling him your name.

He shakes it and says, “Llewyn Davis” with a sheepish smile.

April 14

Llewyn shuffles down the sidewalk towards the Gaslight, really only noticing the early spring chill that hangs in the air. It’s early, before noon, but he wants to run through his set before the night’s performance and the early hour is convenient for him to be able to do so in peace.

He’s about a block away when a sound distracts him. A voice is singing, pure and sweet - if a tiny bit off-key - and if he didn’t know any better - and he certainly does, at least most times - he would call it angelic. No, not angelic. An actual angel. That’s what it sounds like.

Llewyn stops and looks up at an open window on the third floor. He can make out the vague outline of a figure inside, but he’s unable to see any details. But that voice. A few minutes pass as he just listens, staring up at the window, thinking about calling up to get the attention of the mysterious singer. But he doesn’t, and he just stands and listens, until he finds his feet starting to carry him on to his usual destination.

Three steps into his walk, he realizes he knows the song. It’s one of his songs. Part of him can’t believe it, and the rest of him wants to offer pitch correction. Three more steps into his walk, and his face makes very solid, very resounding contact with the light pole on the corner.

“God dammit,” he shouts.

A few seconds later, the window on the third floor slides open and a head pokes out. “Oh my god. Llewyn?”

Llewyn looks up and groans inwardly as he recognizes your face from that last gig at the Gaslight. “Hey,” he waves awkwardly, leaning on the pole.

“Are you bleeding?” you call down to him.

He reaches up near his eyebrow and realizes he is, in fact, bleeding. Quite a bit, honestly. Before he can answer, you call back down, “Come up the fire escape to the side window!” The window drops shut and he can hear another slide open.

So Llewyn Davis climbs the fire escape steps and meets you at your side window, a first aid kit in your hands as you motion for him to sit. He does and you start to patch up his wound.

“You should be more careful,” you mutter as you worked, stopping briefly to look him right in the eyes.

He holds your gaze. “Sorry, I was...distracted.”

“Mmm,” you return. You fold a gauze pad and hand it to him. “Hold this on that cut. I’m going to get you some ice.” You turn to walk to your kitchen.

He mumbles his thanks and leans his head back against the fire escape railing.

May 14

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and although Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, he takes up a spot at the end of the bar and thanks you as you pass him a drink.

“How have you been?” you ask. You’d seen him a few times over the past couple weeks, here and there in the Village, but it’s been several days. You found Llewyn’s company quite enjoyable. You’d talked a bit and even shared lunch once at the diner a couple blocks away.

His lips turn up, a shy smile lighting his face. He opens his mouth to respond, when another voice breaks in.

“He’s been an asshole.”

Llewyn’s head ships around and you follow his gaze. A slender woman with long, straight brown hair and piercing eyes stands about ten feet behind him, arms crossed and glaring. Neither of them says anything for a beat, Llewyn turns away from her, and then she’s on him, daggers flying from her lips, going on and on about assholes and responsibility and electrical tape.

Llewyn keeps his eyes down, the bottom of his glass suddenly staring back at him. “Jesus Christ, Jean.”

You bite your lip as you glance between them. You have no idea who this woman - this Jean - is, but it’s clear she is not a fan of Llewyn Davis. In three seconds flat you decide you do not like her either.

“Is there something you needed?” you break in.

Her eyes flare at Llewyn, then at you, then bore into the back of Llewyn’s head. You resist the urge to literally toss a glass of whiskey in her direction.

“I need Llewyn to stop being an asshole,” she seethes. Llewyn rolls his eyes.

You arch an eyebrow and the words are on your tongue - I need you to back off, you crazy weird bit-- you bite your tongue just hard enough to make your mouth behave. Fortunately, she’s distracted by someone else calling her name and her attention drifts to the stage. With a final mutter of “asshole” and a rude hand gesture, she flounces off.

You point over Llewyn’s shoulder. “Um, what was that?”

He snorts. “A night of bad decisions and a lifetime of regret.” A pause. “It’s...a long story.”

You watch as she adjusts the microphone center stage. “Good lord, is she a singer? Tell me she’s not going to just smile and sing after...whatever that was.”

“Yeah. Well,” he offers by way of explanation and doesn’t say anything else. It’s almost like this woman sucked all the fight out of him and you feel your heart give a little twinge.

You toss the rag in the sink and take his glass. “Do you wanna get out of here?” The air around you has a weird vibe now, and you felt a sudden impulse to get out and take this man - your friend - with you, away from this...whatever she was, somewhere safe.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, a grateful glimmer passing through his dark eyes.

“There’s a great cafe down the block.”

“But don’t you have to...you know...work?”

You look around and shrug. “It’s dead in here, and Bobby can handle it,” you hook your thumb at a co-worker behind the bar. “And if Pappi says anything, I know someone who can set him straight.”

Llewyn’s eyes glint and his lips turn up in a real, honest smile this time. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee.”

June 14

The summer - or very last days of spring, technically - is starting to get hot and your open windows are doing the bare minimum to alleviate the warmth. Of course, the third glass of wine you’re drinking probably isn’t helping things either.

Whatever. It’s your day off.

Shoes kicked off, jeans rolled up above your ankles, feet up on the arm of the couch, a record on the turntable and your glass of red as the dusk slowly melts into dark. The night is tranquil and relaxing and perfect. It has been a shitty week, and all you want is to ignore the outside world and do exactly this.

The shrill ring of your phone bursts that bubble..

You close your eyes and tilt your head back on the couch. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away. The phone stops ringing. Deciding to take no further chances, you switch off the ringer, completely, then sigh happily, settling yourself on the couch and sipping your wine.

Perfect.

A resounding, repeated thump echoes through the room. You bit back a shriek. Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away - lightning can strike twice, right? It was extremely rude of people to just call you and knock when all you wanted was--

“Hey, are you home?” a muffled voice comes from the other side of the door.

Suddenly alert and somehow much less annoyed, you spring up and cross to your front door. Yanking it open, you find a very disheveled Llewyn Davis on the other side. He doesn’t seem to notice right away that the door was now open, and you had to jump back as his hand, raised to pound on the door again, almost knocks you in the head instead.

You take a deep breath. You catch a waft like the mat under the taps after a long night at the bar.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Are you drunk?” You take him by the arm and drag him inside, appraising him quickly. His eyes are glassy, red-rimmed, his curls an absolute mess, and there’s a dark mark under his left eye and a split in his lip. He looks terrible, smells just as bad, but suddenly all your desire for a quiet, no-other-humans night evaporates. “And did you get in a fight?”

“...yes?”

You sigh and point to the couch. “Go. Sit. I’ll make some coffee, and then you’re getting a shower..”

“You’re incredible,” he slurs, smiling, “And you’re so…I tried t’call you, from th’phone on the corner but you dinnt answer. An’ then I realized, hey, I’m on your corner, so decided t’come up and see you. You’re pretty.”

You take him by the elbow and lead him to the couch, only stumbling twice and managing to catch him as he sways, precariously, once. “Uh huh,” you bite your lip to hide a smile. “Sounds like you’ve had a fun night. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” He flops down on the couch and buries his face in a pillow.

By the time you make the promised pot of coffee and get back to the living room, Llewyn is snoring, still face down in the throw pillow. Turning off the music and the lights, you cover him with a blanket and take your glass of wine to your room.

July 14

Ring, ring, ring.

You’d remembered to turn the ringer back on three days after Llewyn slept it off on your couch, but your phone hadn’t actually rung again until just over half an hour ago, and honestly you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or if it was just sad.

You are sure, however, that the sheer desperation in the voice on the other end when you answered is the reason you’re on this train to Queens. Are you doing anything, Llewyn had asked, because I could really, really use some help right now. Please, I’m begging you. And now the echo of your phone ringing just, well, rings in your ears.

The train screeches to a halt and you exit, making your way to the given address. You knock on the door of a smallish, nondescript row house and it swings open almost immediately, revealing a very disheveled, slightly panicked looking Llewyn.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes and grabs you by the arm, dragging you inside.

“Llewyn? What is going on?”

“It’s a disaster,” he says. He’s completely serious.

You’re preparing yourself for blood, broken bones, water damage, collapsed ceilings, possible dismemberment, anything, really, that could explain your friend’s current frazzled condition. What you get is completely, unexpectedly, not anything like that.

There are about ten kids, all around ten years old, running around in the living room, which is also full of balloons and streamers. One giant pinata, shaped like a baseball glove and bat, hangs from the light fixture. To Llewyn’s credit, it is kind of...chaotic, but it’s far from a disaster and you can barely contain the guffaw that escapes your lungs.

“Whose birthday?” you grin at him.

He narrows his eyes at you. “It’s not funny.”

You consider this and try to straighten your lips. Nope, not working. “It’s a little funny.”

Llewyn smacks you lightly on the shoulder. “It’s my nephew’s birthday, and my sister forgot some party thing and made a run to the store. I was stayin’ here last night and she just decided, oh, Llewyn can watch the kids, and she was gone.”

“So what’s the problem, exactly?”

“She should be back by now,” his eyes look slightly panicked.

“Maybe she had to go to a couple stores? Maybe she just got delayed by transit?”

“I can’t do…” Llewyn gestures around weakly, shaking his head. “This.”

“Llewyn, they’re kids. They can’t be more than what, ten years old? Just blindfold them and let them whack at the pinata.”

“You’re the people person. I can’t...can you help me, please,” he turns to look at you. Directly at you. You’re fairly certain his eyes cannot get any bigger or shine more pleadingly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s go wrangle some kids.”

The panic slides from his face and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder and kisses the top of your head in his thanks.

And when one kid takes a wild swing at that tacky papier-mache sports equipment, misses completely, and lands a clean hit on Llewyn’s thigh, neither of you talk about it.

You just get him an ice pack.

August 14

“I’m making lasagna. Come over for dinner.”

You worked early that day, and said this to Llewyn as you left the Gaslight for the day. He isn’t playing tonight, and he’s really just here to stay out of the sun, and as much as he doesn’t like to push his luck with others’ hospitality, he has to admit that a home-cooked meal does sound incredible.

He has a feeling your invitation was partly due to Jean showing up, ready to do unnecessary verbal battle because she just can’t let it go, and you’d asked to both deflect her and keep yourself from actual physical battle. But whatever.

So he finds himself at your front door a couple hours later, a bottle of cheapish red wine in hand and an odd tingle in his chest. He dismisses it offhand; he’s probably just hungry.

You open the door and Llewyn’s nose is assaulted by the smell of homemade sauce - he’s half Italian, he knows these things - and cheese and garlic. You smile brightly at him. Yeah, he’s definitely hungry.

“Hey! Come in, it’s almost ready.”

He hands you the bottle. “Brought wine.”

“Excellent,” you lead him to the kitchen table and motion to a seat. He settles himself into it and grabs a piece of bread from the basket on the table as you grab two wine glasses.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks around a mouthful of carbs.

The timer dings and you pull the lasagna out of the oven. “No occasion. I just felt like making this and I didn’t really want to eat alone.”

“Lucky for you I like to eat,” he chuckles.

Your face suddenly feels warmer. Well, you did just pull a piping hot casserole dish out of the oven, so that does make sense, you suppose. You turn and put the lasagna on the trivet in the middle of the table, then turn and grab two regular glasses for water. There is an outlandish, metallic ka-chunk-ing noise as you turn on the tap, and suddenly water is shooting from under the sink and halfway across the room.

Llewyn jumps up and dives at the faucet, a chunk of bread clutched between his teeth, at the same time you crawl halfway under the sink to try and shut the water off. The stream blasts you in the face and you sputter.

This is not how you imagined tonight. Blasted ancient, rickety building. You make a mental note to have words with the super tomorrow.

You finally get the water shut off, and Llewyn closes the tap and sinks down onto the wet floor next to you. You lean against the cabinets and try to wipe the water out of your eyes.

Llewyn fares a little better; he’s only wet from his waist down. Your head thumps back on the soaked particle board behind you and you turn your head towards him. For a long moment he looks back at you, then rips the butt off the hunk of baguette in his mouth and passes it to you.

You snort. He bites his lip.

“Sorry, I think dinner might be a bit late,” you deadpan, eyes still on him, and take a bite of bread.

He bumps your shoulder with his. “It’s okay. Lasagna is always better the next day.”

Llewyn has to admit, though, it’s still pretty good a couple hours later, after you’re both dry and the lake in the kitchen is mopped up and you settle on the couch with your plates.

And if you use the water glasses for the wine, well, neither of you mentions it.

September 14

It’s pleasantly warm today, the heat of late August dragging itself into the beginning of September, and you find yourself in Washington Square Park, on a checkered blanket, a basket in the middle and a guitar by your feet. Pigeons wander and plot to steal food, but it’s easy enough to shoo them away.

It takes a little convincing, early that morning, to get Llewyn to agree to join you. It didn’t, really; he’s quickly become one of your best friends, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to be, he just likes to tease you.

But he does accept, and you eat some of the bread and cheese you packed and drink the iced tea you brought, and you get out a container of fruit salad and package of cookies your down-the-hall neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, made for you that morning.

“For you and your lovely man,” she’d said as she knocked on your door. You feel the warmth in the tips of your ears and you certainly see the color rise in Llewyn’s embarrassed face, but you don’t have the heart to correct her. She’s such a sweet old lady.

Llewyn plays a song or two while you enjoy your lunch, and even asks if you want to hear a new song he’s been working on, which you are more than happy to agree to.

It’s such a pleasant afternoon.

Until a small, brownish-gray blur jumps onto the blanket and grabs a chunk of bread and darts further onto the lawn.

“What the hell!’ Llewyn shouts as you yelp in surprise. The squirrel, for its part, just stops fifty feet away and turns back with a triumphant gaze, then scoots off into the bushes, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in its wake.

He starts to make a comment about the nerve of the wildlife, but you’re not really listening. Your eyes are fixed on the path the squirrel just ran and you tug on Llewyn’s sleeve. He keeps muttering and you tug harder.

“Llewyn.”

He finally looks up and follows your finger. There’s a flock - an honest-to-god flock, not that he has any real idea on the technical makeup of a flock, but there’s more than one so as far as he’s concerned, yeah, it’s a flock - of geese marching directly at the blanket.

Okay, so there’s only three of them. But they look angry.

The leader strides forward deliberately and bites at Llewyn’s shoe. Another yelp leaves your lips and he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet. He also grabs the remainder of the bread and tosses it in the opposite direction as he takes off running towards the fountain, dragging you behind him.

“Where are we going?” you shout.

“No idea,” he replies. The leader falls for the bread feint, but his loyal minions do not, and they follow behind you, quacking and honking and flapping and Llewyn isn’t sure but he may dislike geese even more than he dislikes pigeons.

He jumps up on the edge of the fountain and pulls you into a protective embrace as the beasts close in. Only Llewyn doesn’t account for, you know, physics, and the force of your bodies colliding sends you both straight into the water.

Spluttering, you try to wipe the water out of your eyes. Llewyn is doing the same when a loud HONK startles you both. The leader is back, flanked by his friends, and they’re all staring at you.

“Um, Llewyn?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“...don’t geese like, love the water?”

His eyes flick to you, then the winged monsters, then you again, then the fountain like he’s seeing it for the first time and all he can do is mutter, “Shit!” and grab your hand as he pulls you to your feet and takes off running again.

You manage to swing by and gather the leavings of your picnic, blanket and basket tucked under your arms and his precious guitar clutched to him, as you beeline out of the park, soaking wet and laughing.

October 14

Llewyn slides the key into the lock and turns it, an odd flutter rolling up his spine as he hears the bolt click open. He’s had a key to your apartment for almost two months now. You gave it to him, insisted really, telling him this way he wouldn’t need to worry about finding somewhere to crash. That your couch is always open.

It still doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t always use it, but tonight he really, really doesn’t feel like making the rounds. You’ve been spending more time together recently anyway, and he feels mostly comfortable around you.

He’s greeted by the sight of you wearing a catcher’s mask and knee high rubber boots, and you’re wielding a tennis racquet. He doesn’t know what to say for a full minute.

“What are you...why are you wearing...what the hell.”

“There’s a bat,” is your whispered response.

Llewyn’s nose scrunches and he isn’t any less confused than he was a second ago. “What?”

“There’s a bat,’ you repeat. Your voice is slightly on the edge of hysteria because, well, “there is a bat. In the bathroom.”

“...okay?”

You jab your finger at the closed door. “I was just going to wash my face and brush my teeth and I went in there and it was just...in the corner, by the shelves. It was staring at me.”

He bites his lip, trying his hardest to suppress the smile tugging on his face. It isn’t working. He drops to a whisper himself and asks, “Baby, why are you whispering?”

Your head jerks towards the bathroom, and your shrug nearly sends the tennis racquet into his shoulder. “Because that’s how they...they’re...how they do the...the bat hearing thing!”

Llewyn laughs fully. He can’t help it; you’re ridiculous and his face heats a bit as he realizes it’s entirely endearing. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says, his voice sliding back to a whisper. He avoids your death glare as he makes his way to the bathroom door. “But sit tight, slugger, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Hand on the doorknob, he pauses and considers this. “Just gonna encourage it to go home? I dunno.”

Your grip tightens on the racquet. “How will that work?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a fucking bat!” he hisses at you. “Just, make sure a window is open.” He opens the bathroom door.

Several things happen at once. Llewyn doesn’t so much open the door as he flings it wide and it slams into the wall. The bat makes a squeaky-shrieky noise (you were entirely unaware, until now, that they could even do that) and swoops out, recklessly streaking through Llewyn’s mess of curls. You make an actual shriek and fling the side window open as wide as possible. Llewyn makes a sound he can’t describe and you’re honestly not sure if it was Llewyn or the bat. The bat decides to take a few laps around the living room and you duck under the window sill just before it mercifully decides that outside is the place to be. Llewyn slams the window shut and you spring back to your feet, crash into his chest and his arms wrap around you.

Neither of you say anything, and Llewyn isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s very aware of your hand running through his hair, and your soft words catching as you say you’re just trying to smooth out the bat damage.

He clears his throat. “I, uh, I’ll keep watch out here, make sure that thing doesn’t come back,” he jokes. “You okay?”

You finally - finally, he cheers internally - take off the catcher’s mask and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m...good. Thanks for...thanks.”

Llewyn lets you go and takes the tennis racquet out of your hands, placing it next to the couch. He throws you a soft smile. “Just in case.”

November 14

It’s been a long night at work, a lot longer than it has any right to be and infinitely insufferable. The Gaslight is packed, patrons nearly crawling the walls and not an empty seat to be found. Drink orders stack up and you try to keep up. It’s so crazy that even Pappi doesn’t have a chance to be a smartass like usual.

Apparently it always gets like this, closer to a holiday.

Note to self - skip holidays.

There are two acts tonight. Llewyn is first, and it’s clear much of the crowd is here to catch him. It cheers you slightly, and it would certainly cheer you more if you had the time to pay more attention to him, but the constant call for whiskey and gin takes most of your focus. But for the time he’s on stage, your heart feels lighter.

Then the second act takes the stage, and Jean launches eye missiles at Llewyn from behind the microphone, and your mood sours instantly.

Yeah, it’s a very long night.

Everything is blurry for the rest of the evening, until last call mercifully rolls around and you can finally get to straightening out the mess the bar has become. You notice Llewyn still sitting on his usual stool at the end of the counter, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Don’t even say it,” you point at him sternly. “When will you stop fussing about this?” Ridiculous man. He has a key to your apartment, and still he worries that he’s an inconvenience.

You toss an orange slice at him, and he allows you a sweet grin.

Finally - finally - you’re home and Llewyn follows you inside, locking the door behind you. He heads for the couch and you head for your room, a mumbled g’night the only word that passes between you. You’re far too exhausted to deal with anything higher level.

It could be minutes or it could be hours later - your alarm clock somehow ended up on the floor and the darkish sky outside giving nothing away, and when did it start raining anyway - when a loud SPRONG and then a yelp and a THUMP from the living room jolts you awake.

It takes a few seconds to regain your senses. “Llewyn?”

“Fuck.”

You stumble out to the living room to find him half-sitting, half-sprawled on the floor, the quilt he normally uses tangled around his knees and ankles. He rubs a spot on his lower back and winces.

“Llewyn! What happened?” you cry.

He points to the middle cushion and you see something sticking up from the padding.

“Oh, Llewyn, jesus. I’m so sorry,” you apologize. You really do feel terrible; your couch hasn’t been in the best shape for ages, and it looks like the squeaky spring you noticed a few weeks ago finally gave up and poked it way through. And stabbed Llewyn in the back as he slept. Damn it.

“It’s...it’s fine,” he tells you, still wincing. “I can turn the other way, or sleep on the floor. Not a big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes big deal. My couch just stabbed you, and it’s cold outside, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“S’fine. Not the first time I ended up on the floor.”

You make up your mind before you even think about it and reach your hand out to him. “Come on,” you wiggle your fingers. “Come to bed.”

Llewyn’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to protest, but your look is so firm that he relents with a soft sigh and extricates himself from the blanket. He follows you to the bedroom and asks, no less than seven times, if you’re sure this is okay and says he really has no problem sleeping on the floor. You eventually tell him to shut the hell up and get under the covers.

You both lay on your sides, facing each other, but keep a space between you. Llewyn still looks mildly uneasy but relaxes as you smile at him and the warmth of your duvet and the softness of your pillows pull him under.

“Good night again, Llewyn,” you whisper.

“Good night again,” he replies with a soft yawn.

The rain steadily patters on your window and the sky slowly lightens as morning breaks and you languidly wake, curled into Llewyn’s chest, his arms secure around you.

December 14

Snow falls lightly outside, coats the grass and sticks to Llewyn’s curls, and his breath swirls and makes curlicues in the chill winter air. It’s two weeks until Christmas, and you decide to put up a tree, a real tree, and you tell him he’s going to help decorate it.

You also tell him that a bunch of your light strings have stopped working, and before you can ask him to run to the shop down the block that sells replacements, he volunteers and is out the door.

He can’t remember the last time he was anywhere with a real tree. It was usually those cheap-looking fake ones, the green plastic branches a color that would never exist naturally, if there were any tree at all.

So yeah, maybe he’s a little excited. He comes up the steps to the apartment, a bag perched in the crook of his elbow as he unlocks the door.

“So I got the lights, like you asked,” he says cheerfully, and sets the bag down on the table by the door.

“Help.” That’s...not the response he’s expecting.

It’s two weeks since the entire living room has been rearranged. The new, non-back-stabbing couch is on the opposite wall. You rearranged all your shelves, got a new armchair, and much to Llewyn’s wary delight and bewilderment, a new side table. The side table has blank sheet music and pens and there’s a guitar stand next to it and he doesn’t really know what to make of it. You just smile and tell him he needs a space to be himself, whatever that means.

The newly-opened space under the window is where the tree is going. Or, should be going. Llewyn looks down at the toppled fir and sees a foot sticking out near the trunk.

“Sweetheart? What happened?”

Your voice answers from beneath the branches. “Can you just help get this off me, please?”

Llewyn rights the tree and turns his head to check on you. He’s more concerned about you than the tree, of course, but he wants to make sure it doesn’t take you out again so he secures it to the stand as he takes you in. Thankfully you look fine, a few needles stuck to your sweater and a tiny scratch on your cheek, but otherwise…

He tries to stifle a laugh. “You’re looking very festive.”

Your eyes narrow. “Go ahead and ask,” you bite out, “because I know you’re going to ask.”

“I already did ask, before I had to be your lumberjack.”

You refrain from telling him that lumberjacks fell trees, not upright them. Whatever. You motion your head to the shiny silver tinsel wrapped around your torso. You can’t use your hands, really, and you’re not sure how they got tied up in this mess, exactly, but here you are, sitting on your living room floor in a pile of pine needles, trussed like a Christmas goose in sparking silver twine.

And your best friend is laughing at you. Jerk.

“I was trying to get this around the top part, and I lost my balance. Then like an idiot I tried to catch myself on the tree, and the whole damn thing went down with me,” you sigh. “I don’t even know how the rest of this tangled mess happened.”

He does laugh now, full and rich. “I was only gone for like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, can you maybe...untie me?”

“Oh! Wait, here, I got something else,” Llewyn jumps to his feet. He ignores your request and pokes around in the shopping bag.

“If it’s not chocolate, I don’t want to hear about it,” your grumbled response brings another laugh.

Llewyn’s back in front of you seconds later, holding a small white cluster above your head. The grin on his face is equally charming and infuriating.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you blink at him.

“I mean, I was just gonna, y’know, hang it above the door later and let it happen, but now seems like a better time for some Christmas cheer.”

“I think you’re pretty satisfyingly cheerful right now, idiot.”

He waves the mistletoe over your heads. “Come on. It’s tradition.”

One day, maybe you’ll be able to stop sighing in his presence, but today is not that day. You sigh again, roll your eyes, and lean in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and delighting in the shade of crimson he turns in response. He clears his throat and places the mistletoe to the side.

“Now will you untie me?” you ask, sugar-sweet.

He does, and helps you get the tinsel where it’s supposed to go and you spend the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and drinking hot cider.

Llewyn sings you more than one Christmas song to make up for all the teasing.

January 14

It seems like a good idea at the time. One of your friends at your actual day-to-day job offers to set you up with another coworker, and it’s been ages since you went on a date and you figure, why not? What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out the answer is, a lot. A lot can go wrong. So much that you don’t even want to think about it.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. There is no chemistry, no spark, just an hours-long recitation of how your date is god’s gift to pretty much everything under the sun and possibly also the moon. The name-drops are just the cherry on top.

Maybe your first impression isn’t wrong after all.

You trudge up to your apartment, the bag of your favorite takeout under your arm filled to nearly bursting, and get the door open. All you want to do is stuff your face and maybe take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine. Yes, that sounds perfect.

The melody of a strumming guitar stops as you place the bag on the side table and shimmy out of your coat. The lamp in the corner is the only illumination and you tilt your head towards the armchair’s occupant. You’re surprised that he’s there, but only because he was supposed to be somewhere else tonight. Knowing he wouldn’t be around was at least...half the reason you agreed to this stupid date in the first place.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date tonight?” Llewyn asks in a low voice through the dim light.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing at the Gaslight tonight?” you retort, brow raised.

He shrugs. “Might have had a few too many an’ said some things. Might’ve gotten thrown out.”

“Mmm,” you appraise him. He just looks the same way you feel; ridiculously tired. Exhausted. “Might’ve told my date I had to use the restroom but… maybe didn’t mention I meant the one at my house.”

“That bad?” Despite his snort, Llewyn sounds genuinely curious.

You sigh as you flop down on the couch and hold up the takeout bag. “I’d rather not talk about it. You wanna help me eat this?”

In an instant he’s on the couch next to you and you hand him some plastic utensils and a napkin. You get up and grab two beers. For a while you just focus on eating, passing containers back and forth with occasional comments about the food. Your knees bump sometimes as you each reach for different containers or your drinks.

“So what happened?”

You stab a piece of chicken a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. It was a stupid idea to go on a blind date.”

“Kind of a stupid idea to go on a date at all,” Llewyn replies softly.

“What.” It’s not really a question. You definitely don’t mean it as a question and you vaguely think about throwing an egg roll at him but that would be an honest waste of decent takeout.

“I know what the problem is,” he continues in a normal voice. “It’s the fourteenth.”

You look at him with a raised brow. He has an odd look on his face and you wait a beat before asking, “Okay? And?”

Llewyn also waits a beat before replying and points at you with his fork, a green bean stabbed on the end. You lean forward and pluck it off with your teeth. He needs a moment to clear his throat before he can go on. “It’s the fourteenth,” he repeats. “Don’t know if you noticed, but...well..weird things seem to keep happening. On the fourteenth. Of every month.”

“Huh.” He’s right, now that you think about it. You stab your food again. “What do you think that means?”

Llewyn looks like he wants to say something, like he’s going to say something, but instead he just shrugs. You put the container down and lean back on the couch, swinging your feet into Llewyn’s lap.

He idly strokes your ankles as his expression grows serious. “I think it means we should not go out on any fourteenths, ever. Just to be safe.”

You poke him with your big toe. “You’re an idiot. There are things that can happen inside. There are things that have happened inside.”

A smirk creeps through his beard. “Shit, you’re right. One-a your crappy novels might fall off the shelf and crack me on the skull.” He pauses. “More run-ins with wildlife? Oh! I know. Squirrels, but this time, in the walls.”

“That’s not funny!” you try to poke him again and dissolve into giggles as he tickles your foot. Your combined laughter ricochets off the living room walls before dissipating back into silence.

This time, you’re clearing your throat before being able to continue. “It’s been a day. I’m gonna go take a hot bath.” You get up and walk down the hall to the bathroom.

“Please don’t fall asleep in the tub!” he calls after you. “Don’t forget what day it is.”

Idiot.

After your bath, you head to the bedroom and find Llewyn passed out on top of the covers. He has a key, and he stays over far more often than not nowadays, and even though he’s been told numerous times since the broken couch that it’s okay if he’d rather sleep in a bed, you don’t mind sharing, he rarely takes you up on that offer. Okay, so this is the first time since the broken couch that he’s even sort of taken up the offer.

It’s been a weird day.

You grab a quilt and curl up on the other side of the bed, pulling it over both of you and snuggling down into your pillow.

“I wonder what happens on the next fourteenth,” you yawn mutter into the darkness of the room.

You’re asleep, so you can’t notice that Llewyn isn’t, really, and he rolls to face away from you and whispers, “Yeah, me too.”

February 14

The air inside the Gaslight is thick with smoke that coils and kinks around the dim lights on the walls and the candles on the tables. Someone at the end of the bar calls out for a straight bourbon, which you pour and pass down. The sound system shrieks with feedback for three painful seconds as Pappi flips the power on.

You glance back behind the bar, making sure the bottles are stocked and the glasses are ready. Another night at the Gaslight is about to start, and Llewyn isn’t playing tonight, and he hasn’t shown up yet, which is strange.

Another thing that’s strange? This weird feeling of déjà vu. Whatever, you’ve been working more nights at the club recently, and they’re all starting to blend together.

“Your friend’s out back,” Pappi’s voice breaks into your thoughts as he sidles up to the bar and leans back on it.

“My friend?” you ask, confused.

Pappi shrugs. “Said he was a friend of yours. Dark curly hair, worn corduroy jacket, always looks tired or pissed off or both.”

Your expression doesn’t change. “Wait, why is...did he get the crap kicked out of him again?”

“Nah,” Pappi shakes his head. “At least, maybe not yet. Anyway, I dunno, he just asked me to tell you he was outside. I don’t know what the hell he’s up to.” He nods his head towards the back exit and turns to tend to the bar.

Strange.

You duck your head out the door and glance up and down the alley. You see nothing except the usual debris; trash containers, the dumpster, the rusty drain pipes that run down from the gutters, weathered fire escapes. Something skitters off at the far end and disappears between the buildings. Was that a raccoon?

You snort a laugh as you recall Llewyn’s jab about wildlife run-ins. It would be something that happens, in a dark alley behind a basket house in Greenwich Village on the fourteenth of…

Oh. It is the fourteenth.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls from the head of the alley.

Llewyn stands there, leaning against the brick, dark curls and worn corduroy and all. He holds a single yellow rose in his hands. He looks incredibly nervous, enough to match you looking incredibly confused.

You step fully outside and the door clicks shut behind you. “Hi?”

“Uhm, this is for you,” he says, awkwardly holding the rose out. “Saw a guy selling ‘em a few blocks down, thought you might like it.”

“Thank you? But what’s the occasion?” Why is everything coming out as a question? Even that.

He bites his lip. “You don’t know what today is?”

“Yeah, it’s the four---” Oh. Oh.

“You wanna get out of here? Have dinner with me, maybe?” Llewyn rubs the back of his neck. It’s a nervous habit you’ve seen him done countless times, usually when he’s thinking about something serious and… Oh.

You twirl the rose in your fingertips and don’t quite meet his eyes. “I thought you said maybe we shouldn’t go out any fourteenths.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, well. Um, I don’t know if you also noticed, along with this whole fourteenth business, but I...I really like spending time with you, just hanging out with you, and...I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid, but I thought maybe we could, y’know, have a non-weird fourteenth day of the month for a change.”

He’s rambling and it’s adorable. You hum softly. “...on Valentine’s Day.”

Llewyn’s hands twitch in his pockets. “Well...yeah. I mean, I like spending time with you, but...I also like you. So why not?”

He has a point. And really, now that one of you has said it out loud, you really can’t deny it. All the time spent together, all the shared meals and drinks and late-night talks on the couch and letting him basically move into your apartment...it’s no secret, you realize, it never really was, how close you’ve become over the past many months. How easy it is with him. How natural it is.

All the times he helped you. All the times you helped him. All the times you were together, just being.

The fourteenth of the month be damned.

You pretend to think about it for a little longer than necessary as Llewyn watches you anxiously. “Well, I do have to work, you know.”

“I already asked your boss,” he shakes his head, “and he was more than willing to agree. Something about not getting a black eye on your behalf tonight.”

Your laugh rings out into the street. “But it is the fourteenth. What if one of us gets food poisoning or chokes on dessert or something?”

“Vomit doesn’t bother me and I know the Heimlich,” he smirks. “And I’m already asking you out in a dark alley in the Village, how much weirder can it get?”

“You make a fair point, Llewyn Davis.”

He extends an elbow and a hopeful smile.

If he notices, as he brushes his lips on your knuckles as you take his offered arm, that your breath catches and your heart rate increases, he doesn’t let on.

But later that night, as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck and asks you what you want to do on the next fourteenth, well, Llewyn Davis definitely notices then.

~end~

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #valentine's fic exchange #oscar fandom fic exchange #samrockweil

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openly-journaling · 3 years ago

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Bobby: May 10th 2022

It's 10pm and I have work here in an hour.. every single day since moving out of that shitty apartment has hit hard like a new realization each time. Tonight the realization is one of them where I just can't wait to get out of South Dakota. I want to move now.

Driving Lessons are going well, so that's nice at least. It's not super hard. Just a little frightening sometimes because other drivers and all the little things you've got to pay attention to.

But right now I feel like I'm stuck in a cell and I want the fuck out! I remember my first flight to Louisiana. The sudden change in weather in Just a few hours. How I stepped from a cold, snowy and dim world into a warm bright and sunny one.

But I worry also about the toll that faucet back at the other place took on my body. How it's acting up in pain and indigestion again. I'm worried something might be wrong with me but I'm also worried my doctor's won't listen. I've still needed that colonoscopy but.. without a guarantee that someone can pick me up I don't think I can get it.

It's been difficult eating or drinking things lately and just two weeks ago something got into my lungs and made me sick pretty bad. I've recovered well buut the coughing started up again and my sides and abdomen are once more in constant pain.

I've read somewhere drinking water from bad pipes can cause several problems. One being pancreatic cancer.. I've seen maybe a couple signs of the possibility but the doctors make it quite clear: unless I am dying, it doesn't matter what I think.

So why go back? One thing's for certain. I do need to go back and get the collar we wear marked as medical equipment. While I was sick for the week I spent in bed I had the collar off.

We can't wear it in bed, the way we sleep would cut off just enough blood flow through the night with it on that we'll get severe migraines. So we stopped wearing it to bed and the migraines stopped.

But in that time I had nothing to cope with. The collar is a great fidget. And something we can dig our nails into or pick at the clip without causing ourselves harm. And because of that I desperately wanted to go back to cutting. But I'm not allowed to mark this body (and we don't have the materials to cut with) so I did it in the headspace. Caused someone distress over it which didn't help.

It took a bit of wearing the collar again before I felt sane. And I know we didn't have the collar before and we coped but we still picked at our skin at every opportunity given. That's gone down a LOT.

The collar is a portable coping skill. Also the nasty looks we get from some people actually build my confidence because it's hilarious they just assume I wear it as a kink thing. We can't really wear other things due to allergies or texture.

It's really irritating though hear a doctor/counselor ask if we're choking ourselves out with it. 1) I don't know why someone would admit to that and 2) no, choking sucks. I hate it. And 3) um.. just no.

Anyway.. *inhales*

It's been a long last month and I feel like I've made little progress. Trying to not beat myself up about it. I just...want out. The thrill of hopping from one place to another, the bright warmth of the sun down there, the humid air I could actually breathe.. I just.. can't wait to get out of here. As much as this place is home.. and as comfortable as I've become here... I NEED change. I need it so much.

Until next time -Bobby

#day 95 #open journal #obake speaks #tw: self harm #tw: self harm mention #cw: self harm

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ao3feed-wincest-archive · 4 years ago

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Titanium (With You On the Edge of Every Tomorrow)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ZFX7cF

by abeautifullie3

All the sigils and wards. All the hoodoo and white magic. All the mystical safeguards they had in place, yet there was one thing none of it could protect them from… Humans.

Against the odds, Dean and Sam built a life together aside from Hunting. With the help of a curse-turned-gift, they’ve even made their own family. Now, Sam 8 months pregnant with their daughter, it’s all being threatened when Dean and their 5-yr-old son, Jameson, are taken.

It's perfectly executed. As if the kidnapper knows personal details about Sam and Dean's lives. Has access to the bunker. Has been to their home. It's because she does and has. She's been training with them for over 2 years. Moved up in the ranks to both helper and friend. She's been biding her time.

Now it’s Dean’s turn to bide his time, care for his son best he can while being held prisoner, keep them alive until Sam can rescue them. And if there is anything Dean knows for sure…Sam will save them. Weeks passing, stress taking its toll on Sam’s heavily pregnant body, with what little Sam and his people have to go on, he knows it’s up to him to rescue his brother and son from a sadistic psychopath who may be right in their midst.

Words: 34819, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Titanium Verse

Fandoms: Supernatural, Supernatural Semi-AU

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Jameson Winchester, Josephine Winchester, Bobby Singer, Charlie Bradbury, Missouri Moseley, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Sadistic Psycho Bitch (try telling DEAN that’s not her actual name!), (Minor/Passing Mentions:::), Don Stark, Crowley, John Winchester, Rufus Turner, Eileen Leahy, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Cesar and Jesse Cuevas, Raphael, Castiel, Original Characters, ...and Baby!

Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Eileen Leahy

Additional Tags: Spoilers through entire aired series…just to be safe, semi-au, Canon Divergence, Brother Banter, A/B/O, Mpreg, Alpha/Alpha Sex Mentioned, Alpha!Dean, Alpha-to-Omega!Sam, Damned Fucking Witches!!!, powers!Sam, Soulless!Sam, A Few Instances of Gore, Graphic OC Deaths, Graphic Deaths of Minors (not Sam and Dean's), Death of Not-A-Fucking-Lead Character, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Show level violence, Profanity, Dean's Favorite Word Is "Fuck" (or any variation thereof), Graphic Sex, BDSM: A Bit of B…With Some D&S…No S&M, Anilingus/aka: Rimming/aka: Dean Eating the Fuck Outta Sammy's Ass, pregnancy!kink, lactation!kink, Pregnant!Sex, To Be Safe: Graphic Births, Kid!Fic, Kinda-sorta Curtain!Fic, Kinda-sorta Fix-It!Fic, Questionable Biological Possibilities and Medical Procedures (come on! it's Mpreg!!!), Long Suffering – Fond – Bobby Banter, Surrogate Father To the Boys!Bobby, No I Don’t Knock Bobby Up! Balls!!!, I’mma Kill Casshole’s Feathery Ass Though, Hunter’s Hogwarts!Bunker, Angst, Like Four-Alarm-Fire ANGST!!!, “Real” Men Cry, A Bit of Schmoop To Sooth, Don't Do Anything With My Work Without My Permission!!!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ZFX7cF

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #wincest

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tessatechaitea · 5 years ago

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Scarab #8

Scarab fucking Eleanor.

It's hard to admit that I believe a toilet paper commercial was written better than this psycho-blather.

John Smith may have over-corrected on the balancing act between Vertigo phrasing and techno-gobbledygook used to explain plot advancements. When the Vertigo phrasing is used simply to show a character is fucking weird so it says stuff like, "Ergonomic celestial tampons bloated from the cosmic rays to staunch a black hole," you can let it go. But when it's used to explain what the fuck is happening, it just becomes another shitty episode of Star Trek. Although "Ergonomic celestial tampons bloated from the cosmic rays to staunch a black hole" makes for better plot explanation than "Agnostic angels of the quantum mesh safeguarding the integrity of the world-mind." Just as Scarab begins suspecting these two guys aren't what they seem (although what they are seeming to be is too confusing for me to even bother with contemplating that it's an obfuscation of their true selves), Eleanor begins to wake and he flies off to make sure he doesn't help out at all. Maybe everything that has gone wrong so far is because of Scarab's blue balls. It'll all right itself when he and Eleanor finally fuck (as depicted, grossly, on the cover).

Is he suggesting these feelings are similar? I'm going to throw up now.

Eleanor has transformed into some sort of ectoplasmic vagina which must be what Louis is into because he rushes into her room naked.

That's what a vagina looks like, right?

I'd really like to say that the last few pages of the series are just Louis fucking that thing. But even non-Comics Code Authority approved Vertigo probably couldn't get away with that! Also, the rabbit wasn't around to witness it, so it wouldn't fit the title.

Okay, so he's fucking it on panel. But I wasn't wrong! This doesn't continue until the end of the comic book! Also, Harvest was definitely meant to be vampire Tim Drake from the future!

I just scanned three panels in relatively quick succession so I'm going to pass on the panel I really wanted to scan: another raccoon! Scot Eaton is quickly becoming my favorite artist from the 90s! While the entire world begins its end in Iceland, Louis and Eleanor fuck. They fuck and they fuck and they fuck. And it's fucking gross. I can't believe my caption on the cover was correct. It was supposed to be a joke, John Smith! A FUCKING JOKE! I did not want to see Scarab fuck his greasy ectoplasmic bubbling oil slick of a lover! While Scarab and Eleanor fuck, the rabbit goes mad, Bobby Dazzler dies, and the portly guy with the hands for wings passes out. When he awakens, the chrono-storm has subsided and their sea horse drones begin to fix the collective unconscious of everybody in Reykjavik to make it seem like nothing happened. Much like the rest of this comic book. The Cosmic Plumbers were from the Labyrinth (which they called the Gyre) which is why Scarab sort of recognized them. So I guess the Labyrinth is sort of like where The Endless live but for Time Soldiers? Eleanor tells Scarab that he's the Minotaur, so I guess he's the main Time Soldier. He just doesn't know it yet. And he never will because this series never went any further than eight issues. Scarab #8 Rating: C-. Scarab achieved nothing in this series. He merely sat around waiting for Eleanor to get better and she eventually did. Then they fucked. The end!

#Scarab #DC Comics #DC #Vertigo #John Smith #Scot Eaton

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dovechim · 6 years ago

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heightened secrecy (m)

➾ 4k

➾ warnings: sex toys (squirting dildo), tiny bit of degradation/ name calling, lots of cum, unprotected sex, sloppy seconds, praise kink

➾ an unofficial part 2 to clone a willy, continuing my legacy of strange sex toys found on Amazon 🙃

The first thing you do when you get the mail that evening is to hightail it into your room, citing the excuse of being on your period and leaving Jimin at the table still in the middle of his dinner.

Your own dinner is left hastily unfinished, but that’s the least of your worries as you lock the door securely behind you, fingers tearing apart the brown packaging. When your blunt fingernails scrape against the secure cardboard, you enlist the help of a penknife to free your treasure from its depths, a bubble of elation rising in your chest.

It looks pretty much like a normal dildo, except there’s tubing concealed in the balls at the base, running through the entire length of it and leading to a squeezable bulb at the other end, presumably for the user to control as they please. The shaft itself is a pleasant thickness that you can already feel the stretch of against your walls, and although no match for Jimin’s monstrous girth, it definitely manages to triumph him in its length.

Oh, Jimin wouldn’t let you live it down if he found out about this. In more ways than one.

There’s a reason why you want to keep this to yourself just for a little while, let yourself enjoy it in the pleasure of your own company before succumbing yourself to his teasing smirks. And let’s face it, you keeping this from him is more for his own good than anything else. You run your fingers over the coveted length of the silicone, your mouth already watering. Jimin may deny it, but he is far more acquainted with the green eyed monster than he would like to admit especially when it comes to things like this.

But it’s all for good fun, right?

You take the toy to the attached bathroom, making sure that you clean it properly, along with its attached tubing. As your hand fits over its girth and length, you’re already dying to feel it down your throat, slicking it up as your core throbs insistently.

A knock at your bedroom door interrupts your fantasies.

“____? You okay in there?” Jimin’s concerned voice sounds from outside, and you hastily shut off the water, reaching for a few tissues as you step out of the bathroom.

“’’m fine, just need to lie down a while,” your voice wavers a little with nervousness, but Jimin seems to believe it.

“Alright,” he says, and you listen closely as his footsteps carry him away from the door.

You sag in relief, reaching for the remains of the package to feel around for what should be a jar of artificial cum that comes with the squirting dildo, only to come up empty. Despair rises in your throat as you tear the remaining package to bits, but either they forgot to ship it to you, or Amazon is a fucking liar once again.

Shoving the packaging away from you in frustration, all thoughts of a pleasant evening going down the drain just because of some idiot’s inability to follow packaging instructions. How the fuck are you supposed to properly enjoy a squirting dildo without fake cum to go along with it?

This is the last time you’re buying a dildo from Amazon.

You tuck it away securely in the back of your drawer which you keep under lock and key, one that Jimin doesn’t know about before you clean up the packaging and unlock the door, peeking outside only to see Jimin immersed in one of his many video games.

He barely spares you a glance as you sneakily dispose of the packaging in the trash, and he doesn’t sense anything to be amiss. You drop a quick kiss on his cheek, telling him not to stay up too late before going back to bed.

Jimin waits till you’re out the door the next day, the smell of muffins still lingering in the house. It’s only then that he makes his way to your shared bedroom, kneeling down at the one very specific drawer you think he doesn’t know about.

Of course, it’s locked, and the key is nowhere to be found. But Jimin has more up his sleeve, and he won’t be deterred this easily. He spies one of your many stray bobby pins that litter literally the entire house on the floor nearby (what he considers to be the bane of his existence up to this very moment), and uses its rounded tip to pick the lock, and in the blink of an eye, the drawer and its contents lay bare before him.

He spots what you’re hiding from him almost immediately, hands digging right to the back of the drawer and pulling out the thick silicone length. You’re way too predictable, but it’s also because he knows you like the back of his hand. Jimin closes his grip around the thick length, jealousy burning in the back of his throat like acid as he considers how monstrous this dildo is compared to himself. He knows he’s not blessed much in the length department, but he prides himself on always making you whine when he stretches you out on that first delicious thrust into your sweet pussy.

But just as he reaches to replace the toy back into the drawer, something detaches from the bottom of it. It’s a length of transparent tubing with a squeezable bulb at the end of it, and Jimin pauses, rolling the bulb in his palm as he tries to figure out what it could possibly be used for. When he squeezes the bulb hard, a gush of air rushes out from the head of the dildo, startling him.

As soon as he gets over his shock, with it comes an intense arousal as he feels blood rush downwards at the thought of you shoving the length deep inside you, pressing hard on the bulb at the same time in order to feel the cum shoot up your passage and into your womb. And then he can’t help but let his hands slide down his tensed abdomen to palm himself roughly over his sweats just the way he likes it.

Jimin pushes the waistband of his sweats down impatiently, wrapping a hand around his base to start pumping as he drops the silicone dildo to the floor in favour of cupping his balls. Pre cum starts to leak from his tip as he pants heavily, throwing his head back against the foot of the bed. He has in his mind’s eye countless images of you spread out on his bed, thighs wide apart and pussy dripping for him, desperate whines and moans spilling from your lips as you beg for his tongue and cock.

And then warm ropes of cum are all over his bare chest and abdomen, his thighs spread apart wide as he savours the vestiges of his orgasm, milking his cock for the last of his pleasure that now coats his skin. Jimin sits back against the bed, breathing heavily.

But as he pushes himself into a sitting position to clean himself up, he brushes against the silicone dildo that lies forgotten beside him. Jimin glances from the dildo to the mess on his stomach, an idea forming in his head as to just how he intends on teaching you a lesson. He grabs the silicone dildo as he gathers the thick globs of cum on his stomach and abdomen into his palm before it begins to dry.

When he squeezes the base of the dildo, it produces a sucking motion that draws air in from the other side, so when he dips the head of the dildo into his cum filled palm, it sucks his semen up into the tubes concealed within its length. It takes a few squeezes before he manages to get all his cum inside the dildo, but he’s not done yet.

Jimin grabs the dildo, pushing himself up on his feet with the assistance of the bed as he heads for his study room, booting up his computer and ditching his sweatpants altogether. As he props himself on his desk chair, spreading his thick thighs, he feels himself begin to harden once more, arousal spreading through his abdomen as he calls up his favourite porn websites, palming his length once more with the dildo ready beside him.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

When you come home from work again that evening, Jimin is waiting for you at the dining table, still clad in his white shirt and grey sweats from that morning, and immediately you tense up. You’d forgotten that he had a day off today, and expecting that he would be home late again, as usual, you’d gone to your favourite sex shop and purchased a bottle of specialised lube made to look and feel like cum. The one Amazon should have sent you with your purchase if not for their fuck up.

Now, you hide the black plastic bag behind your thigh as you greet Jimin hesitantly.

“H-hi baby, did you take the day off today? You’re home early,” you comment, wondering if you can surreptitiously slip into the bedroom to hide your purchase before he can notice.

But Jimin’s sharp eyes immediately take in what’s in your hands, and he greets you back with a wordless smile. A smile that sends shivers up your spine as he lets his eyes travel the length of your body lasciviously before stopping on your lips.

“Yeah, just felt like a day off today.” Jimin answers simply before pushing himself out of his seat, walking towards you and circling his arm around your waist, turning you toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you go take a shower and relax?”

“U-um, okay,” you let him usher you into the bedroom, relaxing a little at the feeling of his hands on you.

But your blood freezes in your veins, your vision blurs, as you spot the flesh coloured object on your bedside table.

Jimin’s breath is on your neck, his plush lips teasing you with feather like touches. “You’re such a little minx, babygirl. Is my dick not enough for you?”

“N-no, Jimin, it’s not like that, baby please-“

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin growls low in his throat, and your words die on your tongue immediately. Pleased with your obedience, Jimin lets his hands skim down your sides, one wrapping around the curve of your waist and the other palming your ass generously.

Just as you’re caught off guard by his sensuous touches, Jimin grasps the black bag in your hand, wrenching it away from you and reaching inside.

“Is this why you couldn’t use it yesterday? Because you didn’t have this?” Jimin inspects the bottle closely, but you don’t dare to speak without his permission. “Answer me, little minx.”

“Y-yes.”

“Well, who am I to deny my babygirl? You must have been waiting to come back home and load up that dildo with cum, slide it into your precious little pink pussy and fuck yourself senseless, hmm? Were you dripping wet at work today? I bet you were, only sluts like you need a pussy full of cum before they can function.” Jimin releases you, giving you a little push toward the bathroom. “Undress and wait in the shower for me.”

His order sends a jolt straight down to your core as you rush to comply.

Your fingers are shaky, reaching back to unzip your dress. Jimin tugs the zip down the rest of the way for you, sliding your dress off your curves. There is a sharp intake of breath when your scarlet lace bra- his favourite- is revealed to his gaze, and a low curse under his breath when you bend over in front of him, sliding the matching panties off.

A sharp spank to your left cheek reminds you who is really in charge here, and a fond brush of his fingertips against your waist, along with his lingering eyes on your body gives you the confidence to step past him into the shower.

You can hear him uncapping the lube outside the bathroom, and you assume he’s filling up your dildo with the fake cum you’d just bought. Occupying yourself with letting your hands wander down your body, a blush heats up your cheeks when you realise that Jimin is right, your core is dripping already. If you were to inspect the crotch of your panties, you’d bet that it would be stained with your arousal as well.

But there’s no need to wonder, because Jimin steps into the bathroom with the crotch of your panties pressed to his nose, inhaling your scent like a man starved. He has shed his sweats and shirt, allowing you to admire the way his abdomen tenses with every breath he takes, the v cuts on his hips leading your gaze to his already hard cock, leaking with pre cum. His other hand places the dildo on the sink counter, dropping your panties to the floor as he favours the source of the scent that he craves- kneeling at your feet and guiding a thigh over his shoulder.

He smiles sweetly up at you between your thighs- a wolf in sheep’s clothing- as he presses a kiss to the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

“Spread yourself for me, let me see how wet you are. How pretty you look inside.”

Your fingers find your lips, trembling as you spread yourself wide for his viewing pleasure, feeling his breath ghosting your clit.

“That’s it princess,” Jimin rewards you with a kitten lick before delving in, sucking and licking at your core, with his tongue probing your cunt deep.

You writhe under his touch, his palms coming up to grip your hips with an iron strength to keep you in place. Jimin sucks your clit harshly, letting one of his hands leave your hips to bury two fingers in your cunt, stroking your walls deftly as he feels you clench around him. Your whines and mewls are music to his ears, chest heaving as he brings you closer to an orgasm, cheeks shining with your arousal as he flicks your clit with the sharp point of his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Heat singes every single nerve ending as you arch against him, Jimin helping you to ride out your orgasm with kitten licks and sucks, thrusting his fingers inside you until you tug on his hair lightly. He pulls away then, licking his lips and glancing up at your fucked out expression.

When he stands, you seek out his lips with a needy whine, tasting yourself on him. Jimin chuckles against your lips, and you feel his lips curve against yours.

“Such a needy little minx,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

You can feel his cock against your belly, and your mouth waters, already sinking to your knees. But Jimin stops you with a harsh grip around your waist.

“Only good girls get to suck my cock,” Jimin’s punishing grip turns you around, cheek to the tile of the bathroom wall as he gropes your ass hard, spanking it and watching your flesh jiggle. “You wanted to use your dildo? You’ll get it alright.”

Jimin leaves for a second, but the next moment you feel the head of the dildo probing your soaked folds as he demands you to spread your thighs for him and arch your back.

“You’re so wet, I bet you could take this dildo without any lube, hmm? Or d’you want that lube you just bought today?”

“N-no, I can take it,” you gasp as he pushes the head just past your entrance.

“Such a pretty little slut,” Jimin breathes against your ear as he slides the rest of the toy into you, the stretch burning.

You’re not used to taking so much length, since Jimin is shorter than the dildo, and you whine when he reaches the halfway point. “Ji-jimin, too much, it hurts-“

“Shhh, you’ll take all of it, just relax, princess. You wanted this, remember? Wanted a longer dick than mine, that’s why you bought this, didn’t you?” Jimin soothes you with his lips on your shoulder, even as he doesn’t let up pushing the length further inside you. “Take it, like a pretty slut should.”

Inch by inch, Jimin coaxes you to take the entire length, you feel his fingertips against you as the base of the dildo rests between your lower lips.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl,” Jimin traces the shell of your ear with the tip of his tongue. And then he draws it back out, the friction against your walls making your breath rattle in your chest as he makes sure you can feel every single inch.

He wraps an arm around your waist tightly, keeping you flush against him so that you can feel his cock against your ass cheeks even as he pounds the dildo into your cunt. Jimin is careful not to place too much pressure against the base of the dildo so that it doesn’t leak into you before he’s ready. The sight of your pussy spread around the thick dildo has him mesmerized.

Your head is back on his shoulder, moaning incoherently as he fucks you with the dildo, faster and harder than you could ever manage yourself.

“Does it feel good princess? Am I making you feel good?” As much as Jimin relishes his dominance, moments like this allow you to catch a glimpse of his endearing need for praise and acknowledgement.

“Y-yes, Jimin, so good, fuck, you’re so good,” your breathless whimpers against his neck are accompanied with your tender touches against his shoulders.

“Does it feel better than my cock?”

Your fingers tighten around his biceps as he gives a particularly hard thrust. There is a brief catch in his voice that tells you he’s a little affected by your secrecy surrounding the dildo, not that he would ever admit it. But reassuring him and displacing his insecurities is your job as his lover, no matter how unfounded they are. “N-no, Jimin, I didn’t mean it like that, I-

You turn around to face him, his grip slipping from the dildo still embedded inside you. Wrapping a hand around his cock, you give it a few pumps, maintaining eye contact with him. “This is the only cock I’ll ever crave.”

His eyes linger on yours for a few moments, taking in the sincerity of your words as you pull him in for a deep seated kiss that leaves him breathless. “You are the only one I’ll ever want.”

Jimin’s plush lips are even more swollen as they spread into a grin. “Consider me the luckiest man on Earth then.”

And then warmth erupts inside you, wetness coating your walls as Jimin squeezes hard on the base of the dildo, flooding your pussy. Jimin buries the dildo deep into your cunt, and you can feel every surge as the lube travels up your sensitive channel, causing you to clench your sensitive walls around it as a second orgasm washes over you. Jimin continues to thrust the dildo in and out, helping to prolong your pleasure, and the unique sensation of the dildo squirting inside you takes your breath away. The head and length of the dildo is smeared with white as it leaves your pussy, forcing lube out of you, and then deeper inside you, as Jimin plunges it back in, continuing to squeeze on the seemingly endless reservoir of lube. When the head is bottomed out right against your womb, you can feel the head of it spewing against the most intimate parts of you. But then, Jimin draws the dildo out till only the head is buried inside you, giving another squeeze as the both of you watch the white, thick globs leak out of you. You gasp and cling on to his shoulders in response even as Jimin grins cockily.

“Oops, looks like I just came inside you.”

You hit his chest in reprimand, feeling the thick liquid dribble down your inner thighs, creating a whole mess that only serves to turn you on even more. The feeling of the lube leaking from you feels incredibly realistic, and as you reach down to run your fingers through the mess coating your inner thighs, bringing it up to your nose for a sniff, you freeze.

It smells familiar. Almost like… real cum.

Jimin watches as you come to your realisation with a smirk on his lips.

“Fuck, Jimin, this isn’t lube… how?”

“Spent the entire afternoon loading that dildo for you, princess.” Jimin gives a last squeeze to make sure the dildo’s balls are emptied. The last few weak dribbles of cum emerge from the head. “You’d better appreciate it; I think my balls are quite literally empty right now.”

Even as he says it, his hard cock nudges at your cum drenched lips, reminding you that he still needs to be taken care of.

“You’re such a- fuck- jerk,” you gasp as he pushes in deep. The feeling of his cock gliding past your cum slick lips is like nothing else, and you both groan as he sinks in balls deep.

“Shit, I fucking love sloppy seconds,” Jimin pants into your neck at the feeling of the wetness of your pussy engulfing him, cum leaking out around his cock as he pulls out only to thrust back in. “So fucking filthy, only for me, right?”

“O-only for you, for your cock,” you affirm, grasping his shoulders as you take the brutal fucking he dishes out.

He pounds into you hard, relishing your moans as you fight off oversensitivity just to allow him to reach his high. Jimin sinks his fingers into your waist, pulling you onto him as he snaps his hips up, and by now the both of you are such a mess, cum coating both your inner thighs.

“I’m so close, fuck,” Jimin groans as he feels your walls flutter around him.

“That’s it, wanna feel you cum inside me for real, just let go,” you coax into his ear, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he pins your hips to the wall, pistoning his cock in and out in a desperate reach for his own high. You reach a hand between your bodies to cup his balls, squeezing gently to mimic his earlier actions with the dildo. “Fill me up.”

“Shit, here it comes, take it all princess,” Jimin warns you with a growl, sinking his cock in deep. Ropes of his warm release flood your walls, and you can feel his balls pulsing in your palm as he fills you up to the brim. His rhythm grows sloppy as he milks out the rest of his semen, whines spilling from his sweet lips as he buries his face in your neck.

He lets the both of you sink to the ground, arms wrapped around you as you remain perched on his lap, breathing heavily.

“Were you really mad? About the dildo?” You speak first, pulling away from him slightly.

“Not really,” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly. “If I were really mad about it, I wouldn’t have been able to jerk off five times just to fill it up for you, would I?”

“Five times?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Just how much cum do you have? That should be physically impossible!”

“It was worth it,” Jimin grins, fingers grazing over the underside of your breasts. “Better than store bought lube any day.”

“What if I hadn’t been on birth control? You’d be in serious trouble then,” you pinch his nipple in retaliation, and he flinches, a teasing grin on his lips.

“All the better then,” the darkening of his eyes is subtle, but serves to reignite the hunger in your lower belly. “Some dildo you bought. Maybe I’ll even let you use it on me some day.”

#bts #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #bangtanwriters-net #kwriterskollection #btsmaknaenet #bts park jimin #bts jimin smut

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allthings-fantasy · 6 years ago

Text

Matching Marks Chapter 11

Author: @allthings-fantasy

Pairing: soulmate!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3441

Warnings: language, Dean fluff towards the end. angst-ish

Part 10 MASTERLIST

It was hard leaving Bobby in the hospital but it had to be done. Dean discovered the meaning behind Chuck’s vision, ‘a castle sat upon 42 dogs’. The solution was his father’s old storage unit, Castle Storage, on 42 Rover Drive in New York. Sam took the back seat, letting you sit up front with Dean. His knuckles flexed over the wheel a few times before looking over in your direction. “Why don’t you rest your eyes for a little bit? We still got a little over an hour to go.”

Your brows furrowed slightly at his suggestion, suddenly feeling your eyes grow heavier. “I guess you’re right…” You stifled a yawn and slouched further into your seat. “What about you? Aren’t you tired?” The corner of Dean’s lips twitched into a smile before glancing in the backseat to see Sam sprawled out, asleep.

One of his hands patted his leg before letting his arm rest against the back of the seat. “Lay your head down here, don’t want your neck to kink.” One of your brows arched and glanced between his lap and his face. That damn cocky smirk was enough to convince you to do anything.

With a dramatic sigh and a playful roll of your eyes you shifted down on the bench, letting your head rest against his thick thigh. His warmth spread through you as his let his hand rest against your side, giving you a small squeeze. Your eyes drifted shut to the sounds of Dean humming along with Led Zeppelin playing on the radio.

Dean lifted open the hood to the trunk, dispersing weapons to you and his brother. You pushed the knife inside the side of your boot and loaded the pistol in your hand. “Let’s get this shit done.” Dean grumbled while Sam slammed the trunk and head towards the long row of storage units.

The older Winchester quickly undid the lock and shoved it inside his pocket. When Sam opened the door, the first thing you noticed was the bodies littered across the floor, all of them dead. The sound of Zachariah’s voice had the three of you aiming your guns in the back corner. “Well, I see you told the demons where the sword was.”

You let out a huff and lowered your weapon. “Oh great, the angels are here.”

He ignored the comment and continued his rant. “And to think, they could’ve grabbed it at any time. It was right under their little noses.” Zach smirked to himself and closed the storage door, locking you all inside.

“What do you mean?” Sam cleared his throat, shifting his weight between his feet. A stern look settled upon his features.

Zachariah shrugged and smiled a little wider. “We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside of Chuck’s skull but it was true. We truly did lose the Michael sword. That was until you just hand delivered it to us.”

Dean’s eyes squinted and shook his head. “We don’t have anything.”

The angel seemed frustrated, a deep frown settled on his face before letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s you, chucklehead. You are the Michael Sword, Dean.”

The air in the room seemed thicker, harder to breathe. It was no secret that Dean was important to this entire charade, but this? You didn’t mean to laugh, but everything was surreal. A hand clamped over your mouth to try and stifle the sound as both brothers glared at you.

Zach just sent an annoyed glance in your direction before pushing your distraction to the back of his mind. “You three didn’t think you could actually kill Lucifer, could you? Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all weak, puny humans!”

“What do you mean Dean is the sword?” Sam stepped forward, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Why, he’s Michael’s weapon of course… or should I say his, receptacle.” He clasped his hands in front of himself glancing between the three of you waiting for someone to figure it out first.

“Dean’s his vessel.” The three words were nothing more than a whisper when the passed your lips, but it was loud enough for them to hear. Dean’s head whipped in your direction and realization came across him.

Zachariah let out a hearty laugh and pointed a finger at you. “Bingo! I knew you had a brain in that fragile little skull of yours.” His smile split across his face and he let out a deep sigh of relief. He took a few steps forward and leaned down until he was face level with you. “And do you want to know the best part about this all?”

Your jaw clenched as you balled your hands into fists, trying to resist the urge to punch his smile straight off his face. “What?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“So are you.” His words were like a slap in face before he stood back up, satisfied with your facial expression.

Dean huffed beside you and stepped a little in front of you, as if he could protect you from what Zach had just said. “I’m sorry you’re telling me she’s also Michael’s vessel?”

“What? No! She’s a vessel, yes, but no, not for Michael. That’s all for you Deany boy.”

“Then do you maybe want to elaborate a little more before I shoot that smug look off your fucking face?” The venom that dripped from the oldest Winchester had goosebumps peppering across your skin. You watched as his shoulders squared and his chest puffed out slightly, like an animal waiting to pounce.

Zachariah glanced from Dean to you. “She is Ariel’s vessel.”

“You’re telling me I’m made for the little fucking mermaid?!”

“No, you idiot. The Archangel Ariel, the great Lion of God, protector and healer of the Earth. The two of you together, power couple of the universe! While I wish it wasn’t the two of you boneheads, you are about to embark on something monumental.”

“Why them?” Sam’s eyes narrowed while he looked at the two of you. “Over seven billion people in the world, why them?”

“Because they’re chosen!” The angel yelled, like it was common sense.

Dean snarled and waged a finger between the two of us. “I think I can speak for the both of us when I say we don’t feel like living life like an angel condom. We’ll pass.”

The angel in front of you shook his head, eyes turning colder. “Always with the jokes, Dean… No more jokes.” He held up his fingers in the shape of a gun and pointed it at Sam. “Bang.” The sound of bone cracking and Sam groaning filled the room before he fell to the ground. You and Dean moved to help before Zach tsked. “No more mouthing off or I will break every bone in poor little Sammy’s body. We are at war and we don’t have our general. Which incase you haven’t figured out, is bad. Michael and Ariel are going to come for their vessels and when they do, they will lead the final charge against Lucifer. Got it?”

“Yeah and how many people are going to die if this whole thing plays out, huh? A million? Five? Ten?” You spoke up, your fingers twitching against the handle of your gun.

“And if Lucifer runs unchecked, how many do you think are going to die then? All of them. He’ll roast this planet alive.”

Your jaw shifted uneasily, shaking your head slightly. “There’s a reason you’re telling us this now, instead of just nabbing us.” Zachariah tilted his head, question in his eyes about what you’re trying to get at. “They need permission, our say-so to hop a ride on this wagon.”

“Unfortunately, yes. But it is written that the two of you are going to be the saviors of us all.”

“Eat me, the answers no.” Dean growled and stood his ground. You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him, not that you were any better.

Zach’s nose scrunched as a proverbial light bulb went off in his head. “How about your little friend Bobby? He’s laid up in the hospital, gravely injured if I remember. You two say yes and uh, we’ll heal him. Say no, I’ll make sure he never walks again.”

Dean shook his head again. “No.”

With every rejection the angrier Zachariah got. “Fine, then… we’ll heal her from stage four stomach cancer.” His eyes casted towards you right before you hunched over. Your body racked with a violent cough, blood splattered from your mouth. A deep groan vibrated your chest as you fell to the ground, no longer having the strength to hold yourself up. It felt as if your swallowed acid, everything hurt. Your eyes stung with tears while you hugged yourself.

Dean’s face paled as he went to your side, placing a soft hand against your back causing you to flinch. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him. “No! Don’t you dare say it.”

His eyes burned with rage but he shook his head no anyways. “Fine, let’s get really creative. Sam, how attached are you to your lungs?” With a snap of his fingers, Sam’s body thrashed as he suffocated. His face contorted as he tried to fill his non existent lungs with air. Zachariah crouched in front of you and gripped your chin, causing blood to fall on his fingers. “You’re going to say yes, Y/N.”

Another cough itched at your chest, sending a splatter of blood across the angels face. He grimaced and tightened his grip causing a small whimper from you. “Get your fucking hands off of her.” Dean took a step forward but halted when Zach held up a hand.

“Take another step closer and I will break her jaw.”

“Just kill us.”

Zach shifted his eyes back to you and sneered. “Oh, how I wish I could.”

His threats were cut short when a bright light and thundering bomb appeared behind him. The three of you flinched away, the light hurting your eyes. When you were finally able to look up again, you saw Castiel plunging an angel blade into one of Zachariah’s minions. You felt helpless as the angel fought, killing all of them but Zach himself. “How are you alive?”

Castiel huffed and tightened his fingers on the angel blade. “That’s a good question. Just like how did they end up on that plane? That’s another good question. The angels didn’t do it, but I think you already knew that. Now, fix the girl and the boy and leave. I won’t ask again.”

A weight was lifted off of you as you took in a deep breath. Nothing hurt anymore and blood was no longer dripping from your lips. Dean rushed to help you and his brother back onto your feet, keeping a supportive hand wrapped around your shoulder. “The three of you need to be more careful. Lucifer is circling his vessel and when he finally takes it those little hex bags won’t be enough to hide you anymore.”

Castiel stepped directly in front of you. He placed a hand on each of the brother’s chest before resting his forehead against yours. The three of you whimpered, but the pain was over as quickly as it started. “What the hell was that for?”

He removed his touch and took a step back. “It’s an Enochian sigil. It will protect you from every angel ever in creation, including Lucifer. Don’t worry, I carved it into your ribs.”

The drive back to the hospital was silent most of the drive. Dean grew aggravated when he couldn’t find a track to fit his mood and ended up just shutting the whole radio off. You couldn’t blame him. You weren’t sure what you were feeling either.

Sam took the front seat this time, leaning his head against the window as he typed something on his phone and started scrolling. “Did you know the Ariel is known for healing the planet and humans? She’s supposed to be one with nature and helps t-”

“Sam, can we not talk about this right now?” Your eyes remained shut but you hugged yourself a little tighter in the backseat. You could feel Dean looking at you through the rearview mirror but right now you didn’t care.

You could hear him shift awkwardly in his seat and shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry…”

Another forty-five minutes passed before you found yourselves parking in front of the Saint Martin’s Hospital. Dean made his way to the front desk asking for his room number, explaining that you were his kids. The nurse nodded and typed away on her computer before pointing down the back hall.

Dean pushed the door open, smiling when he saw Bobby sitting upright on his hospital bed. There was an annoyed expression on the old man’s face, but it softened when he saw the three of you. “Well, it’s about time you got here. The nurse said doc would be back soon about an hour ago.” Bobby snorted and shook his head. The three of you smiled sheepishly at him and made your away to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. “One of you can sit in that chair, yanno.” He nodded to the cushioned chair beside the hospital bed.

Sam nudged you on the shoulder. “Go ahead, Dean and I need to stretch our legs anyways.”

You frowned slightly. “I was in the car too.”

Dean shook his head and pressed his hand against the small of your back before kissing the top of your head. “Sam’s right, we don’t know how much longer the doctor will be. Go rest.” Reluctantly, you trudged over to the seat and sat down, trying to keep a satisfied sigh from your lips. You weren’t about to admit the chair was comfier than the Impala’s seats.

Twenty minutes passed before Bobby’s doctor made himself known again, sharing the news the three of you were already aware of. “Unlikely to walk again?! You snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed, I’ll use my game leg and kick your fucking ass!” You tried to conceal your laugh as the doctor scurried out of the door.

“Way to go, Bobby. Now you really won’t get the good pain meds.” You giggled and patted him on the arm.

“Aw, screw that yahoo I don’t need them.” He grumbled and the scowl formed back over his brows. “I deserve a damn medal for this.”

Dean nodded and tucked his hands inside his pockets. “Yeah you do. But you stay on the mends, okay? We’ll be back in a bit.” The three of you said your goodbyes and made your way to the exit.

Sam opened the lobby doors, letting the two of you walk in front of him. “Hey you know what I was thinking? Maybe we could go look for the colt. Use it on Lucifer… Like you said to Bobby you wan-”

“I just said a bunch of crap for Bobby’s benefit, Sam. I mean, I’ll fight. I’ll fight till the very last man. But Sam we don’t stand a chance in Hell of making it out of this. I know that, she knows that, and you do too.” Dean stopped walking in order to turn and look at his brother. You bit your bottom lip and shifted back from the conversation. This was between the two of them. For a while you could tell Dean’s patience was wearing thin with his brother, but he always put on a good front.

Sam’s face contorted into confusion and his head tilted slightly. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

Dean’s brows furrowed deeper, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head on how to approach it. You winced slightly, you knew what he was going to say. He voiced it to you before, but never to anyone else. Finally he sighed, “I tried, Sammy. I really tried. But I just can’t keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not. It never will be. You choose Ruby over your brother and now everyone is paying for it. I depended on you more than anyone and now… you let me down in more ways than I can count. I just don’t think I can trust you.”

You could hear it in his voice how much it hurt him to say that, but Sam’s face made it even worse. Guilt flooded his eyes and you so badly wanted to let him know that it was going to be fine, but it wasn’t. You lifted your hand and tugged the back of Dean’s jacket. “C’mon, we should find a place to crash.”

Thankfully there had been plenty of motels that surrounded the hospital. Sam decided he would be getting his own room, for tonight anyways. The brothers were still giving each other the cold shoulder. You knew they would be talking again soon, they just needed time to cool off.

After towel drying your hair, you quickly ran a brush through it before rummaging through your bag to try and find something to sleep in. Nothing seemed to suit your liking, until your eyes found Dean’s bag sitting on top of the table. A small smile touched your lips as you heard Dean singing from the shower. There was nothing comfier than one of his t-shirts. Quickly unzipping his bag, you found one of his black tee’s and tugged it over your head. Your melted back into the mattress as his scent flooded your senses.

You were scrolling through the TV when Dean finally emerged from his shower, clean white towel wrapped around his hips. Water drops falling from the tips of his hair down onto his broad chest. He smiled a little brighter at the sight of you. “Well, aren’t you a pretty sight?”

Your cheeks flushed as you sat up from the headboard, “I could say the same thing about you.”

Dean chuckled and headed over to his bag, sending a sideways glance your way when he saw it was already opened. “Thought that shirt looked familiar.” He shook his head and pulled another shirt out and tugged it on, followed by a pair of grey sweatpants. You swore you saw him shove some something into his pocket, but brushed it off.

He crawled into the bed beside you, resting against his headboard while opening his arms for you. A perfect invitation to crawl against his chest. “What are we watching?”

“Escape from Alcatraz.” Your shoulders shrugged at the giddy smile that Dean directed at the TV.

“Sounds perfect, love me some Clint Eastwood.” You laughed as he squeezed his arm tighter around you and kissed the top of your head. The commercials ended and the two of you watched the movie in a comfortable silence.

Before your eyes could fully close, Dean was nudging you till your eyes fully opened. “Hmm?”

“Don’t go to sleep yet, sweetheart…” He shifted underneath you until he sat up, causing you to sit up as well.

Your bottom lip pouted, “Why not? Dean, I’ve seen this movie before and it’s almost over.” Your whines caused him to chuckle.

“This is about the movie.” He smiled sheepishly at you and cautiously pulled a folded up handkerchief from his pocket. Your eyebrows furrowed and he gently laid it in your outstretched hand. “I don’t have a box or anything so, hopefully this is okay.”

Dean nervously fidgeted with his hands in his lap, watching you unfold the fabric in your hands. When the object was finally on display, you felt your chest tighten, a shaky breath blowing from you. “What’s this for?” You tried not to let your voice waver as you picked up the small ring in your hand. At first glance you didn’t recognize it, until it dawned on you. Back when Zachariah put the three of you in fantasy land, you and Dean were married. This was the ring you left on his desk before walking out.

He gulped and smiled at you, “I promise if we make it out of all this alive, I’ll do this better for you. But just in case, I needed you to have it, as a promise.” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a tear hit your cheek. “Aw, baby I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He let out a small laugh and wiped his thumb across your cheek.

“It’s perfect, Dean.” He raised your hand and kissed the finger that now holded the ring.

“So are you.”

TAGS: @iamabeautifulperson18 @zealous-whispers-of-us @clarinette07 @divadinag @danabuggxd @justanotherteen12 @literallyhelpme @lobveemo25 @toodeeptowake @im-here-sometimes @morgannope @yesfictionalboysarebetter @thewinchesterchronicles @emmamikaelson95 @jordynhartley2001 @willieshakesqueer @thewinchesterchronicles @winchesters-and-janeways

#dean winchester #dean #dean Winchester x reader #supernatural #dean fanfiction #dean x reader #dean Winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn #supernatural blog #reader insert #dean fluff #sam winchester #season 5 #matching marks

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kerriescreativecorner · 6 years ago

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the Angel's Dark Side

Warning NSFW and 18 or over content it also has doming undertones and some S&M so if that is not your cup of tea then don't read

what if the sweet Angel Mitsunari hand a darker side today I give you a nice story showing perhaps Mitsunari’s dark hidden side. as always I hope you all do enjoy it thank you for stopping by and reading

Daisy hand just rushed the last of the patrons out the door of the library. It was a small town no more than 865 people live there and on days like today, only 5 people hand found their way to the towns treasure-trove of books. As she locked the front door she sighed softly to herself and thought

“Not many books to reshelve today. “ she had spoken out loud her tough without even know it.

“Hmm what was that” came clam even words from the reading corner at the back of the library and to her right

Daisy almost jumped out of her skin wan she heard the voice

“Mitsunari “ she stated softly “I see you are in your favorite spot ”

“Mm I been here all afternoon watching you “ there was a dark sensual glint to his amethyst eyes as he spoke the words

Daisy nibble on her lower lip she knew that look in his eyes all to well. Oh if only the world outside the two of them know about this sweet angles darker side then perhaps they would look at him differently than they do.

Mitsunari Ishida for what the world knew about him was the even-toned sometimes soft spoke pacifist. He was smart he held several degrees in several fields. Currently, he was teaching law classes at the University of Idaho alongside Nobunaga and Ieyasu. So Daisy was surprised to see him here of all days.

“I thought you hand classes and a study hall today Mitsunari,” she said without missing a beat or showing she hand caught the look in his eye.

Mitsunari smirked at her knowing she was just bating him, Boy he loved it wan she played this game with him, it always made things more interesting as well as unpriceable. And if there was one thing he didn’t like it was unpriceable and mild manner Daisy was a wild card he never knew what to expect with her.

Like him, her outward apprentices was of a sweet mild-mannered Librarian. She was smart like he was she hand degrees in creative writing. English Lit, and book restoration, as well as she, spoke Japanese, French, German, and Gaelic fluently.

She was soft spoken most of the time but she had her moments where she could be like her twin sister May. Outspoken and blunt to a fault but unlike her twin, she delivered it in a way that sounded sweet and kind not blunt and bitch like May was. But both twins shared one more thing in common that's how he found out about Daisy kinks, May was an open book Daisy she was a true hidden treasure he had to plunder and did quite often. one would never guess by looking at her, that like him she delights in some of the things one would read in fifty shades of gray and the books that followed after that one. Yes, Daisy and May might look like a carbon copy of one another but that's as far as it went. Daisy had class and heald herself as a lady at all times and that's what he loved about her.

As he thought about all of this Mitsunari watched Daisy reshelve the few books that had been returned. He knew full and well he had yet to answer her question about why he was not teaching this afternoon and he let it hang in the air unanswered.

Daisy turned to look at him the library’s control and catalog tablet in her hand. She was just about to dim the lights and arm the security system when he took it from her.

His purple hues scanned the tablet and he pressed the iCone that opened up the library's security, lighting and windows control system.

“ I didn’t install this state of the art window, lighting and security, system in my library for it not to be used, “ he said the words as the windows from the outside tinted so that no one could see in but anyone in the library could still see outside.

Daisy arched a brow at him a knowingly lovely smirk on her lips

“Why Mr. Ishida I use theme all the time wan I close the library down for the night “ she chided back at him her tone playful with that hint of her naughty side showing through.

As she had said the words she had plucked the tablet back from his hands and started to saunter off to the library’s check out and returns counter. She even threw an alluring look at him from over her shoulder as she spoke.

The counter sat at the center back of the library and one could look out and see all but one corner of the library and that corner was Mitsunari’s. And wan he was in it he had the full view of the short stacks of books and shelves. Daisy turned her head to that part of the library her lips pressing to gather. And Oh how they puckered into a full plump lip pout that always brought Mitsunari to his knees wan he saw it. Softly he cursed to himself if he didn’t take control over her soon he have to become the brat tamer not his favorite thing to do or at least not what he was thinking for today.

Mitsunari’s footsteps were silent as he moved, he watched Dazy stop and freeze in her tracks. Once she caught him on the prowl, Oh and prowl he did in a nice circle around her, his gemstone eyes of sparkling purple Sapphire now a dark deep dusky shade of purple showed her just where his mind was at that moment.

There was a rough gravelly tone to his tenor voice wan he spoke.

“I'm not in the mood for this game today Dazy” he plucked the table from her hands and placed it on the counter his eyes never leaving her as he did so.

Without missing a step even after taking the tablet from her He kept moving around her like a hunter stalking and toying with it pray. Daisy’s blood started pumping and rushing through her veins. the beat of her own heart filed her ears as it began to beat just a little bit faster. Her breathing picked up slightly her breaths becoming just a bit heavier now. She watched him her eyes only ever leaving him when he rounded to her back. Dazy had a small blinded spot she could not see from the ether corner of her eye even if she turned her head.

Oh, and he picked just that spot to stop right at her back. One of his hands reached out with long elegant fingers to brush whisper soft up the back of her neck. His fingers crept their way to her bun. She felt his nimble fingers find the bobby pines and slip theme free. It was only a few pines today seeing as she hand braided her hair and coiled it on her head. She felt his hand working to uncoil the braid of her dark cinnamon locks. if he would have let the braid fall it would have come to just about her waist. Then she felt him wind the braid about his wrist.

She gasped softly as she felt him tug back just a bit. About half of her braid was snaked around Mitsunari wrist and lower arm and she could feel the heaviness of it like a weight drawing her down. As he softly pulled on her hair he spoke by her ear.

“ remember what we talked about a few days ago “ the words where smoothly purred but there was a commanding edge to hem.

Her peridot eyes widened with his words and she had to bit her lip from gasping out her excitement

“yes “ the word was breathy when she spoke it

“Good “ was all he said as he used her braid to pull her back and to his chest.

Without saying a word his free hand found its way to her waist to take a firm grip on her Then he guided her along to a set of vintage old schoolhouse desks. Once there he sat on the top of one of the desks he pulled her into his lap.

“ you have been bratty today Daisy, “ he said as he let go of her hair and position her in his lap so that she was sitting across it

Daisy gave him a pout but that didn't stop him for what he did next he patted what little open space on his lap he had.

“ lay across my lap Daisy on your tummy “

it was the most commanding Daisy had ever heard that man speak. un tel now she didn’t know he could muster a look and tone as equal, if not more so than Azuchi houses ver own dictator Nobunaga. God that man was like Mussolini in the way he ran the towns only boarding house and bed and breakfast.

Daisy was liking this side of Mitsunari it suited him well. SO she couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice wan she spoke.

“ yes Mr. Ishida as you wish “

She said the words as she laid over his lap, wiggling her tight nicely rounded backside she could not help being bratty she just had to, her excitement and anticipation were too high. And then she felt his hands sliding up her white, black and red plaid skirt. His hand started that at the hem of her skirt, witched came to just half an inch blew the crook of the back of her knees. Ever so slowly his hand inched its way up to her plump well-shaped backside.

She giggled softly knowing what was coming she even tried to hide it. She couldn't help it was a nervous habit both her and her sister shared. And that she was nervous with building anticipation. Daisy hand to bite her lower lip to the point she almost drew blood so as not to further make Mr. Ishida think she was just being bratty.

Mitsunari palmed both the cheeks to her firm round ass, kneading each cheek in his hand before pulling it back. There was a loud smack that rang out and echoed off the library walls. And oh was it a satisfying sound to his ears that good hard smack to Daisy's backside. the sting in his hand was the most exhilarating strangely erotic sensation he had ever felt.

Daisy gasped as soon as his hand met her well-toned derriere before she felt the sting of it, witch hand her now whimpering softly and wiggling slightly in his lap. It was like her backside was on fire where his hand come down on. It was hot and ohhhh the sting of it hurt so good, it made her toes curl while her tummy fluttered with worm swirls of dark delight. Then she felt another spanking than another and more still, each one with a swift firm hand. And she moaned in lustful delight with every one of theme she even thanked Mr. Ishida wan she could.

Mitsunari blood was pumping with sinful delight from speaking Dazy and his lustfulness showed in his words wan he spoke.

“Stand up Daisy and face me “ he commanded of her

“Yes Mr. Ishida “ she simply stated on a breathy lustful gasp

Daisy did as he asks her to and was now facing him

“good girl “ he purred out “now call me Professor Ishida until I say otherwise “

Daisy’s peridot green eyes went wide and she made a soft sound as if his very words had given her a small orgasm.

“ Yes, Professor Ishida” came her words to let him know she was going to comply with the demand.

Mitsunari leaned back slightly his eyes roaming over Dazys lovely shape as he turned the words she just spoke over in his mind. He drank in the sight of her, How her pale cheeks were slightly flush with her hot running passion and desire the rises and fall of her chest in her heated state.

A finger came to his lips and he taped theme in thought

“On second thought just call me Professor “ he liked the sound of that more

“and take your blouses off as well it’s hiding what I truly like to see” he added that command to the other one he handed just handed out.

“Yes Professor “ came her words with a sinfully naughty sultry look as she unbuttoned the first button on her red blouse

Mitsunari watched Daisy intently as she oh so painfully slowly worked to undo every button. She stopped every one to give him a coy sultry smile and wan she got the ones that were right in the valley of her overly voluptuous breasts, she stopped to softly push theme to gather. Oh, and one almost popped out they were that large. Daisy and her sister May could put Dolly Parton to shame, they both were 5 foot nothing like the country singer and built like her tiny little waist and so topheavy you'd think they fall over.

He watched Daisy with great delight as his pants got tighter even with the loose boxes he hand on. Mitsunari hand to undo his belt as well as unbutton his slacks and it still wasn’t enough . in a breath he pulled Daisy to him and stopped her from fully slipping her arms out of her red blouse, which now hung just off her shoulders.

He placed his head in the valley of her breasts and breathed in her he sweet scent. she smelt of amber frankness and Muar and there was a soft rose floral note. he groaned on a breath as he breathed her in. he could not hold out much longer he was already throbbing aching with a carnal need.

Mitsunari took a ragged breath before he feathered kisses on the rounds of her breasts. His hand came to both her oversized mounds and kneading theme before his finger hungrily pulled back the lacy fabric of her bra to reveal her large erect nipples. greedily he found one and took it into his mouth sucking on it and rolling his tongue over the stiff nub

Daisy's hands came to his head her fingers softly gripping at his silvery locks as he worked magic with his mouth on her luscious breasts. And Oh God, he took his time in lavishing her full ripe melons drawing the sweetest and sinfully naughty gaps and moans from her. By the time he came up for air she was clinging to him her fingers so tightly threaded in his locks he knew if he moved from her she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own.

Mitsunari smoothly guided Daisy and laid her out on top of the set of schoolhouse desks. His hands sliding down her ribcage than her hips before he picked up one of her legs and locked it about his waist. With a hot carnal need he pulled her burning heat so tight agents his throbbing member he could feel how wet and ready she was for him even though her panties and his boxers

“Good god Daisy “ came his words filed with his passion and burning lust to have her.

He leaned down over her and took her lips in a heated needy kiss stealing any words she was about to say. Mitsunari drank from her lips like a man lost in the desert without water that hand just found an oasis. His tongue darted from his mouth and teased her lips to part so he could plumb it’s depths and coxing her tongue to dances with his. He groaned with delight into her mouth every time her hips would rock and grind agents his rock hard throbbing need, yet he never broke that claiming demanding kiss.

Daisy’s hands worked to pull his light plume color button-down dress shirt free of his slacks. Mitsunari without breaking the kiss worked his elegant fingers nimbly down the row of buttons to reveal this well-toned chest. By the gods, her hands were like magic as they dance over his pecs and shoulders. Ahww the way her nails raked over his skin or how they bit in leaving little crescent moons on his shoulder blades this only pushed him deeper into sinful wanting.

The power and ferocity in which he kissed her left theme both breathless once he broke it. They both were panting and gasping for air. it was on a long soft moaned that dripped from Daisy’s lips that shot right through him like a wildfire

“Oh professor” it was just two words but what they did to him and his senses it was Madness and torture all in one. And he was lost in it

In one quick breath, his hands were pushing up her pencil skirt, hiking it all the up to reveal her black lace panties. her breath hitched and back arched when he feather soft, brushed a finger over her heated core through the lacy fabric covering it . and Oh how very very wet with need she was.

“Oh so needy whatever should I do “ came his words that sound more like something Mitsuhide would say, but coming for him they had a more devilishly sinful note to them “whatever you wish professor” Daisy panted out the words which tremble with her state of need.

Then there was that delight full gasp of plusher. God he so loved to hear that gasp from her wan he slipped a finger under the fabric and pushed into her hot wet core. Yes, he took his time in finger her twisting and turning a finger sometimes he added one more just to extract the right sounds from her he wanted to hear. And Oh when she cried out professor and yes he would reward her with teasing kisses on her inner thigh. He took his time in removing her panties before he went to write lyrics of love with mouth and tongue on her hidden pearl and the soft petals of her flowered core.

Daisy’s hips bucked as she found it hard to catch her breath and harder still to form words. Her hands once more found the silvery locks of Mitsunari’s hair. Her grip on them so tightly she was pulling him closer to her sex she could feel him moan into it. Soon he hand brought her to the edge and sent her over it on a crashing tidal wave. she cried out in her release praising him and all the gods in the havens.

Mitsunari slowly pulled himself from between her creamy thighs his lips and chin gleaming with her sweet nectar. His eyes were smoldering hot as there bore into her yellow-green hues. With his eyes locked on hers as he licked his fingers clean then his lips.

“My My Daisy you tasted delightful “ came his gravely husky words as he slowly prowled his chest over her exposed breasts.

His hand deftly pulled her panties down as he took her lips in a feverish kiss letting her taste of herself. With one hand he took hold of his throbbing shaft and guided to the opening of her slick wet love tunnel but he didn’t enter her just yet.

“I want to hear you begging me for what you truly want Daisy “ he purred out smoothly his eyes never leaving hers.

“Hnaw” she whimpered as her hips rocked up and pushed agents the head of his throbbing shaft

“oh for the love of all that's holy fuck me already “her words were labored and spoken with gasping pants showing her eager hungry need to have him take her.

“Is that how you beg Daisy like a shameful slut and wanted whore” his words where a lustful growl as his hand came to her neck.

Mitsunari took hold of her neck his long fingers splayed out over her throat He didn’t fully choke her but he applied enough pressure to give the feeling of it without cutting off her air supply. The power and control he felt right now were to his liking and he felt his own cock as it throbs in his hand in response. “Please please fuck me Mitsunari “ Daisy begged of him her hips rolling and bucking wildly under him

That was all he needed to hear from her before he barred himself hilt deep in her tight warm wet treasure chest.

Mitsunari took her with a fevered fury pounding in and out of her so fast and hard the desks he hand laid her on rattled and banged agents one another. And oh the things that came from his mouth the words he used he would never in his right mind say or call a lady. But he knew Daisy got off on some of the degrading things he was saying. And never once did his hand leave her throat that gentle but tight hold he had on it a reminder of his establishes dominance in control over her.

He railed here until they both came, and when he did find his release he buried himself so deep into her he knew he had hit her innermost wall.

Daisy arched her back her hips digging into his as her head lolled back she cried out his name with the hardest orgasm she had ever felt. Her hands where clutching tightly to his back and shoulder her nails having dawn blood she had been holding him that tightly. She felt his hand leave her neck and his lips softly kissing where his fingers hand left light red marks.

It was a long while for both of theme to catch their breath. They both were panting and gasping hard. Every sweet soft kiss Mitsunari left on her came with him gasping for air until his breathing went back to normal.

Mitsunari took his time with some aftercare for Daisy, showing her that sweet loving side of himself that ever one knew so well. That said everyone thought he was.

--- Hideyoshi hand walked in from the library’s back door to Mitsunari putting his hand on Daisy's neck to the moment the mild-mannered angle of the group started to railed her like a sadistic spawn of the devil himself

Shock was not the word to describe the thoughts running rampant in Hideyoshi mind. Disbelief. Anger but not at the sweet angel that was now a devil in disguise. Oh no, he was going to have a nice long talk with Mitsuhide about this, then, then he was going to sit Mitsunari down and talk to him. It was a full ten minutes before Hideyoshi realized he was watching theme like some peeping tom and a bright red blush came to his cheeks as he turned to leave. Thank god, that neither theme didn't hear him come in or leave.

--- At least an hour past as Mitsunari sat on the floor Daisy between his legs, her back pressed to his chest as they cuddled to gather. There clothing was full righted now shirts and blouses all buttoned back up and tucked back into place they exchanged some of the sweetest hugs and kisses before Dazy spoke up

“It’s late and if I know May she going to worried about me” her words were spoken in her normal sweet soft tone

Mitsunari nuzzled the back of her neck “and what if I want you to stay the night “ he asked

Daisy moved her head to his shoulder and look up to this face “mmm is that an offer form more “ she asked

He just chuckled softly as he spoke “and what if it is “

“I'm sold, “ she said with breathy words

The smile he gave was blinding “ than let me get your coat and my things “

he offered a hand to her as he spoke and helped her to her feet before going to fetch her coat and putting it around her shoulders. He then gathered this briefcase blazer and navy style winter coat

Daisy locked the back door to the Library before taking Mitsunari’s arm and walking home with him for some more after-hours experimenting and fun with him...

#ikesen mitsunari #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku mitsunari #ikemen sengoku Ishida Mitsunari #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikemen sengoku fanfiction Ishida Mitsunari #ikemen sengoku fanfiction Mitsunari #ishida mitsunari #ikemen Ishida Mitsunari #ikemen Mitsunari #ikemen fanfiction #ikesen Ishida Mitsunari #ikesen fanfiction

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i-want-it-all-or-nothing-at-all · 6 years ago

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Since premiering in June, the second season of Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot has sparked critical acclaim (and renewed questions over what, if anything, we should expect from the Fab Five beyond makeovers and tear-jerker moments). Yet the new season has also sparked conversations within the trans community, questioning the show’s framing and treatment of Skyler Jay, the transmasculine subject of episode five, “Sky’s The Limit.”

While some critics reacted positively to the episode, many trans viewers saw it in mixed terms; some who have voiced criticism of the episode felt its discussion of the trans experience was very “Trans 101,” and some felt Skyler was othered by the Fab Five for things that seem very essential to his transness — like his Pride-themed décor, his affinity for youthful male attire, or by focusing on his top surgery in an invasive and clinical way.

As a trans man, I wanted to discuss concerns that have arisen within the community about the episode with Skyler himself. Below, Skyler tells them. his thoughts on the controversy, expands on experiences during filming that audiences didn’t get to see, and explains hopes that the Queer Eye episode can stand as just one stepping stone toward stories in the media where trans people are “just celebrated.”

First, I wanted to get your take on what your life has been like since the show. I’m curious to know how life has changed for you.

It’s been almost a year since we did the original filming for the show and when I had my initial surgery, which was aired in the episode. I’ve had some procedures since then as well. So really, between filming and the show airing, my life has been focused on paying for those additional surgery costs and recovering. I just got off my medical restrictions yesterday, so a good portion of my year has been spent healing.

Some have critiqued the episode for being too clinical, or feeling like the Fab Five were “othering” you. How would you respond to those critiques?

One of the things that makes me saddest about what viewers get to see is that you see so little. It makes me so sad for the world, because the questions I keep getting asked are “Are these guys really that nice? Are they really that awesome?” My response is always “No. They’re even better than what you get to see on TV.” We spent a week and then some filming, they crush it into less than an hour, and there’s so much that’s left out.

Did any of your experiences with cast members stand out in terms of their experience with trans people prior to the show?

Bobby and Karamo were actually very informed on the trans experience. I know people have come at Bobby for the “transgendered” comment at the beginning of my episode, and I re-watched and re-listened, and I really honestly can’t decipher whether he said “transgender” or “transgendered.” I know the subtitles say “transgendered,” but also, the subtitles in general in the episode are really off-kilter — they called my cat “Roma” instead of “Robot,” they spelled things incorrectly… and I know that’s something Karamo is bringing up to the Netflix people now, to rectify the kinks so people who are deaf and hard of hearing aren’t having these compromised viewing experiences. I don’t know whether that was a slip on Bobby’s part, but he and Karamo were both really informed. So was Jonathan.

Really, it was Tan and Antoni who hadn’t had a whole lot of experience with transgender individuals. I really wish this one line would have made it into the show, because it’s something I say to every person I interact with who says “you’re the first trans person I’ve met.” I always come back with, “that you know of.” And then I always explain that I may be the first openly trans person they’ve met, but we’re everywhere. To watch both Tan and Antoni’s — and many, many, many other people’s — eyes… it’s like their brain explodes for a second. They go “uh, what?” and then their whole perception of reality and how they perceive those around them shifts. I wish that had made it in there, because I know Tan has gotten a lot of flack. I felt like that entire week, I spent it with my community, with my brothers. I feel like I’m a part of this really beautiful thing.

I think people feel like I was being studied because I was educating [the Fab Five during filming]. That is how I do my work. That gift was given to me by another visible, open, activist trans man who saved my life and helped me figure myself out. So of course, I took full power knowing that the show was going to be targeted at middle-America housewives, because that’s what the first season was geared toward. I was like — “Cool, I’m going to teach some middle-America housewife moms how to care for their transgender kids when they come out by being open and understanding their kids better.”

Knowing what you did about the target audience, was the “Trans 101” approach with the Fab 5 and the show on purpose?

I would say yes, but I went Trans 101 — and then went into extra-advanced trans education with the guys and the cast and crew. I think it’s just how editing made it come out. That conversation Tan and I had was about two hours on the couch. We talked about pronouns, we talked about the different transitions that trans men and trans women can go through, we talked about non-binary and genderqueer individuals, and people of color in my community who are trans and nonbinary and the additional difficulties they face. We also talked about Russia and Jamaica and how trans people that live in those countries have refugee programs directed to them, because they could get murdered and dragged in the streets. We got really, really deep.

There’s a distinct cut in that conversation with Tan and I where he’s very composed — he’s really composed all the time — and then after I laid some really deep knowledge on him, he was crying. He did come from a very sheltered upbringing and his getting into the queer community basically started with this show. So I don’t blame him for his lack of knowledge. Instead, I very much thank him for his willingness to seek out that knowledge through me, from someone who is willing to teach.

My goal was to make him so motivated that he would go forward and be a megaphone to help our community. That’s what we need — not just trans folks standing up, we need other people to have some bit of knowledge on even a basic level of what kind of issues we face. I wish the show could be two hours. But I’m really proud of the outreach they’re already doing with trans youth. I hope that they can carry it forward and continue to help out other trans individuals in the future.

Have you kept in contact with the Fab 5?

Bobby and I are actually close and talk quite a bit. Through my second surgery, I was having issues with a caretaker not being able to come, and I freaked out and was crying and I called Bobby. He started contacting friends in the area to try to figure out what he could do — all the way from Asia, where he was at the time — to help me out because I was freaking out.

So, yes we still keep in contact, and I’m really attached to these guys. I also hope that I continue to see Queer Eye and Netflix in general produce content with visible trans people that aren’t demonized, or othered, and are just celebrated. I feel like that’s what they did with my episode and I’m really thankful for that.

What’s next for Skyler Jay?

I’ve been preparing for a lawsuit I’m currently in against the University system for the state of Georgia to get them to remove their trans healthcare exclusion, which is a big deal for the community. I also went back to school in May to finish my undergraduate degrees, and I’m in the middle of my classes and trying to do my day job as well. And now this new additional job of managing the love and support — and also the sheer outcry from the community of people reaching out looking for resources, seeking validation and seeking help, or reaching out to say thank you — it’s been really overwhelming, honestly. But in the best ways. I feel super honored and blessed that Queer Eye has gifted me this level-up in platform beyond just the cool stuff that you guys got to see on the show.

#queer eye #Sky’s The Limit #skyler jay

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upsmymindwanderedagain · 7 years ago

Text

Story of The Ice Wolf

PART 3

OTHER PARTS:

PART 1

PART 2

WARNINGS: mentions of self-harm.

Fellas my apologies for the hour, where I live is past midnight, but is easier for me to post at this hour.

This (” “) is dialogue in the reader’s head using Wanda’s powers.

This ( ) this are for thoughts or memories.

"You know we can help you, we won't let them kill you". "Nat, I appreciate it. But the government already knows who I really am, otherwise Fury would not have brought it up, I'm thankful that you all trusted me this past eight years, but it was time for you all to know the truth". You shake your limbs a little "Less talking and more action ladies. Otherwise my hand will heal and you'll lose your advantage". "Is that what you told Wanda last night?" "Shut up Natalia" I walk to the bench nearby to retrieve a wrap and gloves. I do a quick work with the items, when I turn around I see a mischievous glint in Bobbi’s eyes. "why wrap your hand and wear gloves? Is not like we are harder than those" Bobbi sass pointing at the broken punching bags. "If your kink is my blood all over you and the steel grazing you open, be my guest" I start pulling off the straps from the gloves. She scrunches her nose "That's disgusting, keep them on". Even when Tasha is an avenger most of her time, these three women together are a well-oiled and synced machine. We stand in guard the three of them in front of me, May in the middle, Nat by her left Bobbi on her right. I had no choice but make the first move, I make a quick work targeting Nat first doing a front sweep followed by a back sweep towards their left making them back off a little and lastly a tornado right kick towards Bobbi which she dodges diving a little, due to the momentum I land with my kicking leg. Nat greets me with a jumping front kick, I block it with my forearms, her weight makes me skid back a little, May does a butterfly kick passing over a hunching Nat, I dive and spin around, Bobbi is already firing a round kick, I duck again, when her body turns I land a back spin kick to her lower back sending her a few feet away making her sneer "Bitch". "Y/N I thought you say you'll take us down easy, Are you sure you are not the one rusty?" Nat says with a wide smirk, getting back on stand guard. I scoff "Your wish". I wipe off the smirk from her face, going after her with a quick succession of round kicks she can't dodge them but she manage to block them, in the last one I do a quick stop chambering the right leg and promptly switching to throw a left hook which lands square in her gut winding her out. Bobbi doesn't waste time and tries to trap me on a lion killer, when I feel her arms about to lock I do a tight front flip using her as cushion, the whip of the move is fast, she ends up losing her grip. May takes advantage of my move, before I can fully stand up she lands a flying double kick on my upper chest, sending me rolling back I use the rolling motion to swiftly stand up again using a brief hand stand. Nat has already recovered and tries her signature move, I clasp her calves to my neck with my hands, I swing her up towards the ceiling to slam her on the mat floor, Bobbi and May take this chance to sweep off my feet making me fell backwards, Nat ends up having the upper hand in the landing. My advantage is that Nat weights like a feather, swinging my right leg to the left in a circular motion I turn around our positions leaving her on her back I push my weight forward until the crown of my head grazes the floor my weight leaning on her neck, her hold loosens, I take my leave doing a front roll passing above her. This time I hear Bobbi and May coming at me from behind, instead of standing up I jump up doing a tiger double back kick, I soften the fall with a half handstand push up and spin on my steel hand landing back on right guard. May and Bobbi end up several feet behind, Nat leap towards me with a flying knee landing it perfectly under my steel solar plexus, making me grunt in pain, she ducks again to let the other two come at me with flying side kicks sending me to the ground, I make my body fall in my upper back and fold my legs towards my head, with a quick whip of my legs I kick up off the ground to slam the inner part of my forearms on their own upper chests tackling them to the ground. I move towards Nat with a double tornado kick she barely ducks my right leg, I land on it spinning around with the left leg chambered. She comes at me with a swift combo of jabs which I slide, I let her right cross punch land on my chambered left arm at the same time I fire a right hook that lands on her jaw sending her to the ground. I have to give them an gold star in persistence this women are fearless and though, we keep the intensity for nearly half an hour. The four of us fill the room with hard labored breathing, sweat cascading down out faces. The last round is open by Bobbi, she is the first one to come at me while May and Tasha stay back in guard. All her moves are based in circling motions she throws a series of combos jabs, hooks and kicks, half of them land on my left side, she lands a perfectly aimed round kick to the right side of my jaw, making me lose my footing a little, but I see her motioning for the next right round kick, counter attack faster with a pendulum right round kick landing it across her abs, as soon as I'm back in guard I made a spinning heel kick landing it on the right side of her head taking her down. She rolls on her back and taps out letting a grunted "Fucking Wolf". May and Nat come at me on a combined attack, the red head tries to sweep my legs again as May does a back spinning kick aimed at my head (time to switch) I briefly change my fighting style, doing a capoeira ginga I dodge Nat sweep then I do a maeia lua rabo de araia to dodge May, aiming the kick to Nat's head, she collapses to the ground to avoid the kick and rolls back to halt in her signature floor guard, May ends up behind me. The asian does a combo of no hand cartwheel and butterfly kick, landing the last on my left temple, this time I end up in the floor belly down, before I can stand I hear her landing before my head, she moves fast leaving no chance to close up in a turtle guard, I feel her sneak her left arm on my neck, through my chest and behind my left armpit (fuck) she closes the anaconda choke. "Roll over May!". My air supply shortens a little as we struggle to gain control, before she can roll over, I grab her left leg and clasp her left forearm with my right, shooting my body upwards crossing my left leg with the motion I make her lose the choke, I collapse my body backwards and roll over her body without releasing her forearm I switch the tables trapping her on a armbar, as soon as my back touches the floor she taps out, I let her arm go. "Damn it" she hisses between intakes of air "I almost got you" May rolls to her left, standing up and move away from the battlefield. I swiftly stand up to face the last woman on feet, by now we are both panting hard. "Come on Nat, you are the last hope to salvage the mission!" Bobbi shouts "End the wolf with a bite!". The Widow gives me a sinister smirk which I mirror in equal measure. Her moves turn faster, still I don't shy away from the punches and kicks I let some of them land in my body (just like the old trainings) I use the closeness to land my own share which she takes like the professional ex-assassin she is, what she lacks in brute strength she has it in precision and explosive moves. I can feel some blood start leaking through the wrap under the left glove, most of the punches I've landed were done with that fist to avoid hurting them seriously, but no doubt it worsened the split and raw knuckles. My brain registers the sting of the sweat mixing with the blood and the dull ache of the bruised bone, still this is nothing I’ve had far worse, so I just ignore it. Natasha comes at me with a double front kick combo I swat her legs away with my hands and counter with my own left front kick pushing her backwards to the floor I rush to gain an upper mount but she manages to clasp my waist with her legs. The next moves are precise show off of jiu jitsu wrestle and some body punches, her lean small complexion makes it a challenge to close some of the locks I try on her. During the grappling she ends up successfully sneaking to an upper mount position, I let her grab my left arm and turn my head to the right setting up a left armbar she makes the mistakes of leaning in towards my body, I grab her right arm with steel hand, she quickly tries to lean back to free her arm, I took the chance to sneak my left leg over her head, my calf on her neck, I shoot out my hip to the left and using the weight and strength of my leg I make her collapse to the floor keeping my right foot under her back, clasping my knees above her elbow, I play her own move against her, the armbar lock strong lifting my hip off the floor a little does the trick, she taps out too. Nat lets out a roll curses in russian as I roll backwards to stand up. I bow at them "A pleasure kicking your asses ladies". “Don’t let it get to your head Wolf we were playing around” Bobbi snarks. “Says the one that went down first” Nat throws at her sitting cross-legged on the floor, they just glare at each other.I extend my right hand to help Natasha stand up.

Indeed it was more fight than talking, but not even two of the best S.H.I.E.L.D agents and a deadly Widow are enough to take me down, at least not on a sparring. --- After taking a long bath Natasha makes her way to the living room. A faint breathing pattern can be heard. The lights are off, so she comes in turning on the lights. What she didn't expect was find you asleep in the couch, there's an open book covering your chest, your left arm is hanging towards the floor. But the rapid movement behind your eyes betrays the calm of your face. She lightly walks towards you, crouching close to your head. There's a half full coffee mug of the table. She touches it and is long time cold it will be no surprise if your left arm is numb. She leans on your left ear. An idea crosses her mind, she smirks. She imitates Wanda's voice and lowly she whispers "Y/N", "Y/N puppy, wake up please" she starts lifting your left arm, gently rubbing circles over the back of your hand, avoiding your still split and raw knuckles. [your POV] Just when I'm starting to believe this nightmare is real I heard a familiar voice, calling me. I start to regain consciousness and murmur "little one?". The voice starts laughing, that is the giveaway to realize the person is not Wanda. With a startle I rise my upper body. I see the blurry image of Nat "what the fuck?!" I throw a punch at her unfortunately Natasha has good reflexes and doges my punch. Walking backwards and still laughing she manages to say, "I can't believe that the big bad Ice Wolf and the Scarlett Witch have pet names for each other and cute ones may I add". "Fuck you Bitch. I was dreaming" you say rubbing the back of your neck. "Dreaming about what? cuddles and whispering sweet things in her ear?. (I wish it was that). "You are fucking insufferable Natasha, FUCK YOU". She turns around and walks to the kitchen, swinging her hips "you wish, bad wolf. Even though I can rock your world, I doubt Wanda will appreciate it". I sigh while I start rubbing my left arm, the prickling sensation starts, guiltily the pain that follows is more than welcome. When my arm start regaining feeling sensation Nat comes back with two steaming mugs. Sitting by my right side, she handles me one. "Peace offering?". "No, this is me being a friend". I look at her suspiciously. "Spit it out Romanoff, I can't read your mind". Her face morphs in part curiosity and part concern "Ok, why are you here? I thought you'll be having some hot angry make up sex". I left her question hanging unanswered, silence fills the atmosphere as we start drinking the coffee. She sets her piercing green eyes at me, from the corner of my eye I can see the glint of trouble brewing "I'm not complaining, I'm thankful I don't have to hear your moans", she nudges my right shoulder a little with her left. I groan in annoyance "if this is you being a 'friend', you suck at it stick to being and spy". I choose to ignore her in favor of drinking some coffee. "I'm better sucking other things" She winks at me. "Is that why you are always changing your furniture? The broken ones always have Bucky’s left print". Her face lights up red as her hair. She chooses to admire her coffee mug. We stay drinking the coffee in comfortable silence, but after a while I decide that’s there’s no point in no answering her question, I let out a defeated sigh "She wasn't in our room... I guessed she didn't wanted to see me, so I came here". "Guessing and mind reading is not your thing Y/N" A familiar sweet voice says from the door threshold. While Wanda walks to me I can only stare at her trying to figure out why she is here. She takes advantage of my stunned state and straddles on my lap. Her light weight takes me out of my stupor. Taking my face in her hands she makes me look into her bright red eyes ("Never, ever dare to think that I don't want you by my side puppy"). I internally sigh ("Nat figured out that pet name". And before she laughs I add "she knows about yours too"). ("Dam it, let's make her go before she starts teasing us"). ("As you wish, my little one"). I bury my face on the base of her neck and start kissing and nibbling her skin, going from her clavicle to her jawline. Wanda hangs her head forward to hide her smirk. "ok...fuck that's hot" Nat says while her cheeks turns red. Wanda starts moaning softly while I nibble her earlobe. Natasha gets a little uncomfortable. "And... that’s my clue to leave" her brain gives her a better idea, smirking she says, "Unless you want me to join in?". "Fuck off Romanoff" I grumble barely moving away my lips from Wanda’s neck, the flutter of my lips against her skin makes her shiver a little. Laughing the redhead stands up and walks to the door "Sweet angry sex little one, puppy". With her last statement Nat leaves the living room laughing. I ignore her in favor to keep kissing and nibbling Wan’s neck, my hands go underneath her light shirt ghostly traveling from the bottom of her back to her upper back. Grabbing my hair between her fingers, Wanda pulls my head off her neck. I let out a shameful whine. "As exciting and hot as this is, let's take it to the bedroom".

“As you command my sarge” I clasp my hands below her butt cheeks to keep her secure and effortlessly I stand up to follow her orders.

[later in the room]

We are both laying naked on our right sides, she is wrapped in my arms. Indeed, it was hot make up sex. One of the few good things about having a bionic arm is that Wanda can sleep over it and it doesn't get numb.

I make my way softly kissing from her left shoulder to her trapezius and neck, lastly on her cheek. Then I lay on my back. After a while I feel her stir.

"Y/N/N?"

She turns around and rearrange the sheets a little using them to cover the metal plates with it, nuzzling on my right side she starts rubbing lazy circles on my abs. When she senses my mind drifting she trails her nails.

"Another round?" you ask teasingly, trying to drift the attention away from the question she is about to make.

"You mind was drifting… what are you thinking my love?" she keeps her eyes closed.

You ponder playing it off, but you can’t fool Wanda, you’ve never been able to lie to her, so you just go for the truth "How can you be so at ease with me? I saw fear in your eyes Wan".

She continues rubbing circles lazily on my skin. "I wasn't afraid 'of' you, I was afraid for you, I knew were your mind was heading to".

I lift her chin with my left hand looking into her gorgeous green eyes, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not afraid of me".

"I'm not afraid of you Y/N, I've known you almost twenty nine years. I've loved you as more than a friend for almost seventeen years".

Those beautiful orbs speak nothing but love and understanding (How in hell I end up having her by my side?) "I'm sorry for screaming at you little one, it won't happen again. I love you so, so much. You will always come first to me" you use your left hand to caress her right cheek.

She grabs your left hand and turns it to look at my raw knuckles "You need to find better ways to deal with your issues instead of leaving your knuckles split and raw".

"I'll try". I flip her on her back, my forearms resting on the sides of her head to keep my weight off of her "I will always protect you, care for you and love you" with each statement I put a kiss on her forehead, cheek, mouth corner, finally I kiss her lips. She smiles as the kisses morph into a make out session she can’t stop her little jiggles between the kisses “always so smooth my wolf”.

--- It's been two months since the last meeting. The room is drowning in tension. This time there's new faces in the mix. Coulson and his team are there. The first one to shout is Daisy. "How you dare to say that one of my team members is crossing us! You are the one setting that trap". Ok. Now I'm livid. "If I wanted you all dead, I would kill you here, not there. That parlour trick of powers you have won't be enough if things go south there". "Y/N that's enough!" May hisses. "Daisy keep your mouth shut". "This is taking us nowhere". Steve says with a hint of exasperation on his voice while rubbing his temples. "why are you so adamant that is a trap?". Maria is soon to speak up "Did you hack Hydra's severs again?". "No agent Hill” you sigh is frustration “ I don't need to hack their system. That base is too precious to Hydra. It has 1 out of the 3 biggest experimentation laboratories. I had higher rank than the Winter Soldier and both of us were taken there with a blindfold on our eyes". Daisy is still glaring at me, I turn around to glare back at her "I'm not saying Hunter is betraying us. Is just that something is off, too good to be true". "We can't make decisions based on the fact that you are afraid of going back there Y/N". Tony adds shrugging his shoulders. (I'm not afraid of going back. I' am afraid of losing everything there). "I'm not afraid Stark. I've been requesting for permission to go back to Hydra and find out what's going on". I take my gaze to Nick. "Fury let me go. Hydra won't hesitate to take me back in, I can go with some mild intel and give them something to pledge my loyalty...Bobbi has stated that Hunter has been a little off in their last meetings, I have no doubt that after five years they might have a shifter in their ranks". "For the hundredth time, I tell you no agent" he says sternly. Tony lets out an exasperated groan "You know what, fuck it. Let's vote it". "Tony are you fucking serious?!, you can't take this that lightly!". Wanda hisses while Pietro glares daggers at him. "Wanda, do you want to let this opportunity pass by? If that base is no longer active it won't have that much security. Robowolf and Frosty here knows their way inside. Let's do it". He leans back on his seat "Avengers?" Tony asks a hint of arrogance in his body language. All of them nod in agreement, Steve hesitates a little, but in the end, he agrees too. Bucky gives no acknowledge and walks to Wanda's side not without glare at them. "Avengers?" Tony asks. All of them nod in agreement, Steve hesitates a little, but he agrees too. Bucky gives no acknowledge and walks to Wanda's side not without glare at them. "Director, we are going". Coulson says, his team nods in agreement. Almost everyone in the room nods their head in approval. The only ones that don't are Wanda, Pietro, Bucky and I. Fury turns his head towards us waiting for an answer "Wolf, I rather have you choosing before I have to command you to go". (assholes). I lock gazes with Bucky, he sets his jaw and faintly nods, stiffly I answer "We are going". I give Tony some lasts words, my voice a low hiss of rage "Stark” he locks gazes with me, we stay like that for a brief moment before I sneer at him “Don't cry like a bitch if this turns out to be a trap". I stroll past Fury. Wanda, Pietro and Bucky following behind, the latter lingers in the back briefly, without turning around he adds "Suit up with extra ammo. We won't waste bullets saving your stupid asses".

A/N:

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Any comment is appreciated,

I apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #quick silver x reader #avengers x reader #shield x reader #part 3 #story of the ice wolf

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sammy-moo · 7 years ago

Text

Red Riding Hood

Characters: Sam x Reader, Bobby, Lucifer

Words: 2,015

Warnings: ABO, smut, bit of violence, knotting, mentions of breeding kink

A/N: This is for @d-s-winchester‘s challenge and I’m soooo sorry this was late but thank you again for being so understanding.

This is my first ABO so any feedback would be appreciated!

You nodded your head as your mother spoke to you. All the information that spewed from her mouth just flew into one ear, and right out the other. It was always the same thing she had told you since you were a kid.

“Be careful when walking in the woods. Look out for the hungry wolf.”

“Alright mom, I got it. I’m going to take the food to Uncle Bobby now.”

“Just be careful! Call me when you get there please?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the basket, pulling your red jacket on. On the way out the door you pulled the hood over your head, keeping your ears cold from the chilled breeze. It felt chillier out than normal, but it also may have been your skin growing subjectable to the weather. After all, your heat was approaching and the last thing you wanted to do was deliver cookies.

But your Uncle Bobby had been worse lately. He had always been a sad old drunk after his wife died; drowning himself in a bottle on their anniversary or the anniversary of her death. But with him being sick the past week your mom thought cookies would help his mood.

A soft sigh escaped you, and you imagined it traveling out in a small cloud before you. It had been awhile since you last seen your uncle and you felt horrible.

He showed you everything you knew and practically raised you as if you were his own child. It was the least he could do since your dad left around a young age. Bobby was the one to threaten boys or teach you how to shoot a gun. He taught you even how to flay a fish or hunt a deer.

While you wanted to see him, you hated seeing him drinking. It was when he got like this you thought it was best to stay away. He never enjoyed company and would turn into a grumpy old man. Sometimes he’d even snap on accident.

You glanced up to the trees, admiring the shifting colors of the leaves as some already had made their fall to the wood’s floor. The smell of leaves and sap filled your senses, driving you wild. But then it hit you.

Alpha.

There was one nearby. You could hear them walking behind you and you turned immediately.

Their eyes raked over you, taking in your appearance and you shuttered. “Where are you heading?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Lucifer peered at her, growling softly, “Tell me.”

You flinched as he stood taller, practically swallowing you with his presence, “My Uncle’s.”

Lucifer flashed a smile and leaned closer; smelling near the basket on her arm, humming. “Smells good. I should have some after this long walk.”

You gulped thickly and stepped back, “I- I should go.” You turned and hurried away, trying to block the alpha from your mind.

Lucifer was quick to find his way towards your uncle’s place, knocking on the door as he took on your appearance and masking his scent in the process.

Bobby frowned as he heard knocking at the door, grumbling tiredly as he made his way to his wooden door.

The knock echoed throughout the silent cabin again before he answered, a smile appearing as he saw ‘you’ behind the pressed birch door.

Bobby stepped aside to allow you in, practically shuffling the door closed as he turned his attention to you, “What brings ya here kid?”

With one look Lucifer could tell he was sick as he pulled a very sympathetic expression. “I came to visit and check on you since you aren’t feeling well.”

Bobby shook his head, knowing your mom had sent you. He lead you over to the couch, taking his place in his recliner.

Lucifer took the spot on the couch closest to the recliner, watching Bobby’s movements. He waited until Bobby leaned to grab his beer off the floor to attack.

You were on edge the rest of the way to your uncle’s. Your heart kept beating against your chest, attempting to escape as you glanced around constantly. Anytime an animal near by made a noise it freaked you out. You’d tuck your arms to your chest, wincing at the ache from your breasts as you quickly looked in your surrounding area. A sigh of relief would escape when you found the furry culprit to the noise.

Once you reached the cabin you were able to breathe a full sigh of relief, the tension melting away as you stared at the familiar door and knocked. Your teeth caught your bottom lip to chew on the tender flesh, pushing aside any lingering thoughts as you watched the door open.

A giant smile painted your face as your “uncle” let you inside.

“My mom told me you were sick. I know you’re not one for company, especially around this time of year but she wanted me to bring some cookies by.”

Lucifer nodded his head.

It was a normal reaction. What threw you off was how he carried himself and moved about the room. He definitely was off his game. But it was the way he stepped closer that set the alarm in your mind off.

“Uncle Bobby? You feeling alright? Your eyes, they’re more red than usual.”

“It’s from all the sneezing.”

“Your voice seems different too and your lip keeps twitching.”

“Just tired and hungry.”

You gulped thickly, “Your nails seem longer than usual too.”

“Easier to tear into things,” he snarled out.

You winced as he backed you into a corner, teeth bearing as he wore a wicked smile. With a quick movement of his hand he knocked the basket from your grasp, gripping onto your wrists. Your eyes widened in horror as the facade slowly slipped away, leaving a hungry alpha wolf towering before you.

His eyes were glowing red as his claws gently dug into your skin, his white snarl glowing in the warm lighting of your uncle’s living room lights.

Your eyes were fixated on his face, taking in how his nostrils twitched at your growing scent.

Everything was happening so fast and just the scent of an alpha was driving you wild. But then the smell grew intense as another alpha plowed into the room at the sound of your cry.

He was tall and towered the other alpha as he yanked him away, fighting him off and out the door.

The room seemed to spin from their scents, the blood that pooled at your wound sending you into darkness as you squeezed your eyes tightly.

Sam got Lucifer out of the building before finding your uncle and getting him to bed. But just as he finished up he noticed you climbing into unconsciousness. He moved faster in his actions than he did moments before as he lifted you up and hurried you to his cabin.

Once inside the safety of his home he got to patched up the wound, taking careful glances.

You looked peaceful.

Everything about you seemed to calm him as he tended your wound, stopping the bleeding as he inhaled softly.

By the time you were waking up on the pallet, your stomach was clenching as the heat began to pool between your legs. You were in the alpha’s home- your alpha’s home. You sat up quickly as your heart began racing, but Sam’s hand gently pushed against your shoulder.

“Relax, it’s alright. You’re safe.”

You gulped thickly at the sight of your alpha before you. His scent was filling your senses and making sweat bead across your forehead.

Your heat wasn’t for another couple of days but just being near him made it come a few days early.

Sam watched as your tongue darted out to wet your plump, soft lips. You were injured and he was having to refrain himself but it wasn’t going well with the look you were giving him.

“Y/N.”

Sam blinked, processing what you were even saying before nodding, “Sam.”

You bit your lip nervously and grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you on the plaid pallet. The smell of lumber and spice began to overwhelm you even more as he got closer.

“Alpha.”

Just the sound of your voice made Sam lose it. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours. The sound of your whimper gave him access to deepen the kiss.

Your hands pushed into his hair while one roamed down to clutch at the flannel fabric covering his body. With a quick jerk you untucked it from his jeans, pushing up to expose his tanned, muscular back.

Sam growled and pulled away to unbutton it, tossing it to the side. Once it made it to the floor his hands began tearing away your clothes and squeezing at your hips. His lips pressed down your exposed torso, gently nosing at your button to your jeans before popping them. He groaned as he pushed the denim down your ass, inhaling your scent deeply as he gripped your ass before removing them the rest of the way.

You whimpered as he took his time mouthing at your panties before ushering them down in his teeth.

He was sexy as hell and practically made by the gods. Out of all the times you imagined your alpha it was never like this.

He was never sculpted with all the hills and valleys that made their way down his chest. The v going and dipping into his jeans and when he removed them you were drooling.

For an alpha he was being cautious and careful in his movements. You could tell. It was possibly due to your injury or the fact you were scared moments earlier. Either way he was being attentive.

When he freed his cock from the confines of his boxers you were pretty sure you’d drown yourself on the floor from your drool.

You always heard how large alphas were, but he seemed to be a bit larger than the average alpha. But you didn’t have much time to take that in because his lips were finding your’s again.

“You sure?”

It was the first time he spoke since he told you his name. And you were still in a daze that it took you a moment. Even if you wanted coherent words to come out all that did was whimpers and whines as you rutted into him, pushing his cock between your legs causing the head to brush your soaked heat.

Sam growled and pushed into you slowly.

You clutched onto him as he stretched you out deliciously, moans escaping into the air. You clutched around him in response and when he moved it sent you into utter euphoria.

Each stroke of his cock orchestrated a symphony of moans and whines from your kissed swollen lips. His name melted into cries of ‘alpha.’

Sam grunted as he began to pick up speed, slamming into you, his hips slapping against your body. And when he brushed your sweet spot he kept his movements focused there.

You pulled his hair tightly as your orgasm crashed over you in a tsunami. Your walls fluttered and squeezed around his glorious cock sending him over the edge.

Sam pushed into you deeply as his knot swelled and his seed spilled into your heat. He bent down and bit into your sweet spot on your neck, biting hard to mark you as his and his alone.

Just when you thought you were done he made your orgasm intensify as white spots began to form behind your eyes.

By the time you were coming down from your high he was kissing your neck and lips while you panted softly. His pants began to melt with yours as he pulled away slowly when his knot loosened.

You gave him a soft, tired smile as he wrapped you up in his large, sweaty embrace with a giant smile.

“We’ll have another round after this. And next time I’m fucking my pups into you. Show that bastard wolf who gets to fill you to the brim.”

Tagging: @sleepywinchester, @hay-yo-its-jo, @timeforsmut, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @because-imma-lady-assface, @growningupgeek, @abbessolute, @keelzy2, @wideawakeandwriting, @super-not-naturall, @babypieandwhiskey, @wi-deangirl77, @ilsawasanacrobat, @becs-bunker, @inlovewithbja, @squirrel--moose--giraffe, @mistressofallthingsgeeky, @petrovadixon, @theoutlinez, @samwinjarpad, @impala-dreamer

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