#I felt fine??? then hours later I was like no. not fine actually
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I have an idea for Leah. Maybe Leah preparing to propose to reader? Like picking out the ring, arranging the plans to do it & what to say. Being super stressed that it goes well.
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The engagement ring is currently sitting in the drawer of Leahâs bedside table. Itâs been there for three days. Thatâs seventy-two hours of her life spent mentally cycling through increasingly absurd ways to ask you to marry herânone of which feel remotely good enough. Yesterday, she briefly considered hiring a flash mob but abandoned the idea when she realised she couldnât name a single person in her life who would willingly agree to dance in public.
The ring itself is a masterpieceâor, at least, Leah tells herself it is, because the thought of you hating it makes her chest constrict like a bad asthma attack. Itâs a gold band, delicate but not fragile, and the diamond is small but impossibly bright, practically nuclear under artificial light. It reminds her of you. Elegant, unassuming, but blindingly brilliant. She spent hours debating between gold and platinum, flipping through online forums and texting Beth for advice, only to be told: Mate, just get what sheâll actually like. Helpful.
She chose gold, naturally, because you once mentioned in passing that platinum felt too cold. You probably donât even remember saying it, but Leah does. She remembers everything. Like the fact you canât stand carnations (âsoulless flowersâ) and that you always eat the crusts off your toast first because itâs more âstructurally satisfying.â Sheâs built this proposal on a foundation of your quirks and preferences. Itâs practically a thesis at this point.
Her plan is a dinner reservation at that restaurantâthe one with the hand-written menus and waiters who always remember you like your wine dry. Sheâs already called them to arrange for a quieter table in the corner, away from the clatter of silverware and the prying eyes of other diners. Sheâs even considered what to wear: a crisp, white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the perfect midpoint of her forearms (which you once confessed makes her look âobnoxiously fitâ) and tailored trousers she had altered just last week.
But even with all this planning, Leah feels like sheâs holding a ticking bomb. Sheâs stressed in a way she hasnât been since that penalty shootout against Brazil. Sheâs pacing the flat now, her steps echoing faintly on the hardwood floor. âThis is ridiculous,â she mutters under her breath. âItâs just a question. Four words. Five if I add a âplease.â Six if I say her full name.â
âYou alright there?â Bethâs voice crackles through the speakerphone, equal parts curious and entertained. Leah forgot she left her phone on the kitchen counter, still connected to the ongoing call.
âIâm fine,â Leah says, glaring at her phone like itâs personally betrayed her.
âNo, youâre not. Youâre spirallingâ
âIâm not spirallingâ
âYouâre literally pacing like a dad waiting for news in a hospital dramaâ
Leah stops pacing. âI just⌠I want it to be perfectâ
âIt will be perfect. She loves you, doesnât she?â
âYeah, but what if she hates the ring?â
âShe wonâtâ
âWhat if she says no?â
âShe wonâtâ
âWhat if I say something stupid like, âI canât wait to do your taxes togetherâ?â
Thereâs a beat of silence, and then Bethâs laughter bursts through the speaker like an explosion. âHonestly, thatâs probably exactly what sheâd expect from youâ
Leah groans, rubbing her hands over her face. âThis isnât funnyâ
âItâs a little funnyâ
She ends the call before Beth can continue her unsolicited pep talk and sits down on the sofa, staring at the box in her hand. Itâs absurdly light, considering the weight it carries. She snaps it open, then shut. Open, shut. Like the worldâs most expensive stress toy.
You walk into the flat a few hours later, shrugging off your coat with a small sigh. Leah, whoâs been pretending to read the same page of a book for the past twenty minutes, immediately tenses. The ring box is hidden in her pocket now, a phantom weight pressing against her thigh.
âHey,â you say, dropping onto the sofa beside her. âYou alright? You look⌠weirdâ
She blinks at you, heart pounding. âWeird?â
âYeah. Like youâve seen a ghost or just remembered you left the oven onâ
She laughs nervously, her hand twitching towards her pocket. The words are thereâWill you marry me?âbut they stick to her throat, stubborn and immovable.
âLeah?â you prompt, looking at her curiously.
And just like that, she panics.
âDo you want takeaway tonight?â she blurts, the words spilling out in a rush. âIâm thinking Thaiâ
You raise an eyebrow but nod. âSure. Thai sounds goodâ
The proposal will have to wait. Again.
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Hiiiiiiii!!! I have a fluff requestttt. So Anakin comes home late, like super late. And the house is quiet, a little too quiet. Worried Anakin goes to the y/n and his room. She's not there. He hurried to the kids' room, and there's she's sleeping. Feeling guilty, Anakin carries y/n back to their room. She wakes up and them being super cute. Idk, it's a terrible and a little too simple request, but I'm dying to see fluff like that, and you're THE ONLY ONE who can write thatđđ
Author's note: I.LOVE.THIS. Nonnie, your mind is brilliant, don't tell me it's terrible, it's PERFECTIONâźď¸ only I hope you'll like it cause I dunno.. :///
It was late.
Later than ANAKIN SKYWALKER had expected to be back home, so he wasn't surprised when all what met him was pure quietness and darkness of the first floor of your house. You'd often wait for him but now? He wasn't even sure if anyone was there.âY/N?â he called softly after taking off his shoes
No response.
Checking all the rooms on the first floor and really making sure you weren't pulling on some scary-ass joke on him, he made his way through the house, up the stairs towards the bedroom, but when he finally pushed the wooden door open, the bed was empty.
He frowned.
A hint of worry settled in his heart.
He moved to the children's bedroom and gently cracked the door open before peeking inside. Eyes immediately softened at the sight before him. You, curled up in the little chair by the crib, your head resting against the edge, clearly fast asleep. The boy was sprawled in his crib, his twin sister next to him sleeping with tiny fingers wrapped around her favorite stuffed bear.
Mix of guilt and tenderness tugged at Anakin's chest. He carefully stepped inside, trying to be as quiet as a shadow, and stood beside you. The urge to just scoop you up in his arms was almost overwhelming, he felt obligated to do that. So with that, his large hand gently slid under your legs then one wrapped around your waist before he scooped you up and tried to quietly leave the room
He walked through the hall, just holding you like you were the most precious gift in his life (and let's be honest, you completely were). You stirred in his arms but hadn't wake yet, your face so relaxed in sleep.
Eyes fluttering open, seeing a familiar posture leaning over you âAnnie?â you murmured
He leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair that fallen over your forehead, before pressing his lips against that spot âYeah, baby, itâs me. Sorry, I didnât mean to wake you. Just didn't want you to have a back pain laterâ he grinned in this too beautiful-for-this-hour way, fingers loosening his tie
You yawned, stretching a little before reaching up to lazily, tiredly wrap your arms around his neck, fingers stroking the short curls there. âYouâre home so late,â you whispered, voice still heavy with slumber. âEverything okay? Did something happen at work?â
He smiled, âYeah, everythingâs fine. Just⌠missed you a lot today..â he simply replied, laying down on his side on the bed, pulling you near
You smiled sleepily up at him, eyes half-lidded before you let yourself nuzzle into his chest. âMissed you too,â you murmured.
Anakin brushed his lips against the top of your head âIâm home now,â hand finding the way to rest on your thigh - stroking so lovingly, purely "Tomorrow I'll take care of the kids, you just rest, love"
you sighed contentedly, face nuzzling to his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent âGood,â you whispered, barely keeping it all together to actually fall unconscious in sleep âI love you.â
Anakin smiled with affection. He gently pulled you closer, hand slipping beneath your chin to make you look up at him âI love you, too,â he whispered before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
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#bunny's replies ŕŤŽę° ŕžŕ˝˛ >â¸â¸â¸< ŕžŕ˝˛ęąá#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker#anakin#star wars#sweet ani <3#anakin skywalker fanfiction#:haydennation#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x fem reader#anakin skywalker x original character#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin star wars#haydenchristensen#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x female reader
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I'm sick and could really use a sweet quinn moment
help? đ¤˘đŠ
1:33am.
Quinn lay in bed, in the awkward in between sleep and awake state where everything feels like a dream. He rolls over to find you, however the space where you should be is empty and cold. Not even the lingering hint of your body heat left is behind. How long have you been gone?
"Baby?" He calls out, groggy and with eyes still closed.
When he doesn't get an answer, he sits up in bed and checks his phone for the time. Maybe it was way later than he thought and you had just gotten an early morning for once. Out of character for you, especially when he wasn't on the road, but it was always a possibility. Though, when he reads it's half-past-one in the morning, Quinn knows something must be wrong.
"Babe?" He calls out again, once he's out in the hallway. Still nothing. He's drawn to the living room and the fact that the TV is on but the sofa is empty. "Baby, are you okay? Where are you?"
His heart is beginning to quicken in pace; he's now completely awake given the dread washing over him like ice water. When Quinn turns to look back towards the direction of the bedroom, he sees the sliver of light from the cracked bathroom door. As he approaches, he sees something on the floor, jammed between the door and its facing. It's a blanket. ("Odd," he thinks.)
"Sweetheart? Are you alright?" Quinn gives a couple light knocks to the door yet there's still no response. "Hello?"
He pushes the door open to find you curled up on the bathroom floor. You were shivering as you laid on the cold tile; the blanket too far from reach to give you comfort. An hour ago, you felt nauseous and had left the comfort of Quinn's bedroom. Back and forth from the bathroom to the sofa you had paced, just not sure if and when you'd actually be sick, but you didn't want to risk it. The last trip down the hallway you had dragged a blanket with you around your shoulders. That's when the worse feeling of losing all your groceries had punched you in the gut. You didn't walk this time, there was a silent urgency to hurry. The blanket had been discarded as the door closed behind you.
"Oh, baby! What's wrong?" Quinn says quietly as he kneels beside you. His hand brushes hair from your face as he frowns. He never likes to see you sick, but there's something different about seeing you like this. "Let's get you up off the floor, okay?"
You clench your eyes closed, embarrassed that he's found you this way but you have no strength to fight him. He pulls you to a seated position before picking you up in his arms. "Want to go back to bed?"
"No," you mumble, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.
"Okay, okay. That's fine."
Quinn carries you back to the living room, knowing you probably didn't want to go back to the bed for fear that you'd wake him up if you had another episode. You're still trembling in his arms when he sits down on the sofa, still holding you tightly.
"Want me to stay with you?"
"No."
"No?" He asks, confused. "You don't want me to stay?"
"You need to go to bed. You have a game tonight. I'm fine." Your voice was small; like every word took so much strength to say.
"I've a long time till I have to worry about that. Right now, I want to know that you're alright."
You had nothing to say. You didn't want him to see you like this but it was too late.
"C'mon, I'll lay down with you right here. "
"Quinny..."
"Shh, I want to."
The white linen sectional really was comfortable and perfect for laying in your boyfriend's arms, sick or not. Quinn propped himself up in the L-bend, the cushions compressing into his weight. You had mustered the last of your strength to shift your weight to lay between his legs, your head on his chest. He was comforting and warm though the cold chills still refused to leave you.
"Let's cover you up, princess," Quinn cooed, pulling a throw over your exposed skin. His fingers dragged through your hair in a soothing rhythm hoping something he was doing would help. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No." You pull the blanket up over your face. "But thank you." Your words muffled beneath the fabric.
Even though you felt awful, you still managed to bring a smile to his face, doing unintentionally cute things without trying. "You're welcome, baby. Get some rest okay? If you need anything, just tell me, and I'll do what I can."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He'd hold you the whole night; his fingers still tangled in your hair come morning. His heartbeat had lulled you to sleep; his body heat soothed any discomfort your body had held on to. You wouldn't have any more nauseous episodes, which you were most thankful for. Even Quinn managed restful sleep, his gentle snoring barely heard over the TV.
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maybe i need meds???
#knocks on skull like GOD CAN YOU JUST FUCKING EMOTIONALLY REGULATE I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD#been swinging wildly between 'i need help' & 'im faking it' every single HOUR#the thing is. and this is the thing. my life right now is as close to perfect as i'll ever get there is literally nothing wrong#im MEANT to be HAPPY why am i UNSTABLE#im thinking meds maybe but also it's just such a pain#to book a drs appt to get put on a mental health plan to be put on a waiting list for a shrink then convince said shrink that I need meds#sounds painful#don't think I can do it...#but. ive booked a drs appt so baby steps.#but see like I booked it on wed bc I was very much going to have a breakdown at my desk then immediately felt silly on thurs morning bc#I felt fine??? then hours later I was like no. not fine actually#im going to fucking chuck#hex.txt#personal#personal posts are only on this blog bc u guys are more used to hearing me blabber bullshit than my main#does anyone wanna tell me some good news or something nice happening in their life
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#Louis saving my life these past few days#Worried about my friends and people in vzla#Sad about everything#Keep very busy with work and then it's bam!#I was listening to 1D earlier just to get some inspiration for a sign for pride tomorrow#Funny enough i decided on 'if you ever feel alone... Don't'#Because hours later I felt very much alone#I'm very fine with aloneness I love it actually#But on times like this...... It's kinda brutal#But anyway. I don't want pity... *#And also reading 'the other significant others' which I am loooooving but maaannnnn#It hits me in the feels way too close to home#Anyway blah blah blah blah#tomorrow will be better
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SUCH a âdo everything you can in certain areas of your life, so you can at least feel like you have something resembling control over itâ girlie x
#going away in 11 days so iâm preparing and getting ready#i need to make a list of stuff to pack#i need to decide what clothes iâm gonna take to wear#i need to control things to avoid the anxiety#or at least try to ease it#idk iâm always nervous something will go wrong lately so iâm trying to prepare for the easy stuff and the stuff i can control#gonna try to figure out my nausea and how to deal with sitting in a car for hours#i just need to get readyâ˘ď¸#gonna try to swim for the first time in years#especially since i became disabled and iâm wondering how thatâs gonna work#but idk iâll try#gonna work out going out in public with my walker some more#gonna go on the beach!!#for the first time in years!!!#if i think about it too hard i feel like crying#i have sooo much nervous energy#iâm both excited and scared#trying to convince myself it will all be fine#and i can still live my life#bc recently iâve felt like i donât have one and that i canât get it back#mania my beloathed#idk maybe stay tuned over the next couple weeks as i post anxious bullshit in the lead up and then maybe cool shit when i actually go#i say 11 days itâs actually more bc iâm joining everyone out there later but still#itâs not long now#gwen rambles#gwenposting
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FRESHERS FAIR WAS SOMETHING.
#so yes it was 5 hours standing (no chairs) trying to sell people on a weird club#(hard)#I forgot my water bottle so I was DYING the whole time#and yes it was with the guy I kinda have a crush on but we did not do much talking.#I tried. I TRIED but conversations didnât really go anywhere and I was also trying probably way too hard to sell people on the club#I mean i did a fucking amazing job the things addressing people directly with a smile as they walk past will do is insane#maybe I AM charismatic actually#but man. tonight is gonna be insane.#I wish Iâd got to talk to Guy more but he also didnât like. ask me anything I think he mightâve been tired and hungry and feet hurty#little bit overwhelmed#I also did a lot of the talking to people and I donât know if that was better or worse for him. better for the club bc I Was better at it#but idk if he felt sidelined bc he was also standing there for 5 hours#it wasnât like he did nothing but a lot of the like talking past the initial hi join us was me#which makes SENSE bc I run the club and heâs smaller lower commitment role but idk. I mightâve fucked up a little there.#not a huge deal but he definitely wasnât having a great time#kinda a shame altogether but itâs fine Iâll see him later and we might be able to actually talk without the weird pressure environment#luke.txt
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Ladies With Experience
Paring(s):Â Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?
Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader
Word Count: 5k
A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two đĽ°
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLISTÂ |Â SUPERNATURAL MASTERLISTÂ |Â MAIN MASTERLIST
âAnyways, letâs say youâre right, fine. Who would want virgins?â
You know Sam didnât mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.
âYou got me,â Dean replied with a shrug. âI prefer ladies with experience.âÂ
And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, youâve never had sex. But youâve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. Youâve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. Itâs not like you werenât experienced at all . But that didnât make Deanâs words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table.Â
The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.
âI â bathroom,â you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you.Â
Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Deanâs words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that youâd never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.
Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didnât have long before one of the boys â likely Sam â would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldnât suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.
âDid you find them?â you asked, hopeful.
Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans.Â
âI sure as hell hope so, âcause if Iâm about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing ââ
âTheyâre down there, Dean,â Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadnât let his face show it. âYou coming?â
You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.
Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadnât had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadnât said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel.Â
You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothersâ conversation.
âIâll get her,â Dean said.Â
Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside.Â
You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Deanâs face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat.Â
âMorninâ, sunshine.â
It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.
âAlright. Whatâd I do?â he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you.Â
The question caught you off guard.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âYou havenât said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.â
âHow do you know Sam didnât do something?â
He replied with a knowing look.
You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, âItâs nothing. Stupid.â
âCâmon, talk to me,â he urged.
You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.
But not this . You couldnât tell him this.Â
You shook your head.Â
âHey,â he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. âTalk to me,â he repeated, no room for argument in his words.
âI canât,â you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever .Â
His jaw clenched. âYou can tell me anything, you know that.â
You briefly met his gaze. You couldnât hold it for long.Â
âWas it something I said?â he prodded.Â
You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation.Â
He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.
âDo I at least get a hint?â
âDean, I ââ
âCâmon, Y/N. Youâve never not told me anything.â
âWhy are you pushing this?â
âBecause I canât stand not talking to you.â
Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been.Â
âIâm talking to you now, arenât I?â
âBecause Iâm making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.â
You didnât respond.
He sighed again, defeated. âY/N, câmon. Please? Whatever I said, Iâm sorry. Iâm sure I didnât mean it.â
âYou didnât mean that you âprefer girls with experienceâ?â you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it.Â
Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish.Â
âThought so.â You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.
âNo,â he finally said. âI didnât mean it.â
âItâs okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.â
âNo, itâs not. I didnât stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldnât have let anything happen to you, right?âÂ
You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.
âBut for what itâs worth, I wasnât serious. I donât prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyoneâs willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.â
âRomantic,â you quipped.
A smile tugged at his lips. âI could show you, yâknow.â
You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.
âWhat?â you croaked.
âWell, if youâre worried about not having any experience⌠I just mean Iâd be happy to, yâknow. Show you the ropes.â
â⌠Of sex?â Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. Youâd just never been tied up with them.Â
âOf whatever you want.â
âYou think I want to have sex with you?â It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldnât have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart.Â
You didnât miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.
âNo, thatâs not what I ââ
You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.
âNo, I â I didnât mean it like that either.â
Deanâs face morphed into one of confusion. ââŚSo you do want to have sex with me?â
Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. âUhâŚâ
âForget it, stupid question, you donât have to anââÂ
âYeah,â you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing youâve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. âYeah, I really, really do.â
Deanâs eyebrows shot up to his hairline. âSeriously?â
âOh, cut the shit, Dean. Like youâre surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.â
He scoffed. â Everyone , Y/N, really?â
âThere are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,â you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point.Â
âGross. And Becky doesnât count as everyone.â
âActually, Becky only writes for Sam.â
You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.
âWhy do you know that?â
God dammit. âI donât. I mean â I â like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldnât write porn about you. Obviously.â
âUh huhâŚâ There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, âHow much smut have you read about me?â
Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too.Â
âNone!â you exclaimed, way too quickly.Â
Dean smirked. âYou do really wanna have sex with me,â he remarked, like he couldnât believe it.
âTrust me, the urge is fading by the second.â
His grin disappeared almost instantly. âWould it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?â
âWell, I donât think about it all the ââ
âY/N.â He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core.Â
âYeah,â you squeaked. âYeah, that helps.â
âGood,â he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him.Â
âUh⌠What are you doing?â You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.
âTelling Sammy to beat it.â
Your eyes grew wide. âWhat!?â you whisper-yelled. âNo! Just â we can just do it back here!â
He gave you a pointed look. âIâm not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.â
âWhy not!?â
âBecause weâre not sixteen, for one. And for two⌠I wanna make it special.â He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it.Â
âOh my God,â you began.
âShut up.â
âYou did not just say that.â
âShut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!â
âI have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You donât need to make it special for me, Deano,â you teased.Â
âFor the last time, shut your mouth, or Iâm gonna shut it for you,â he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasnât in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.
You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, youâd probably give Dean a run for his money.Â
Sam didnât answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didnât want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision.Â
You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead.Â
âLadies first.â
âYou mean youâre not gonna carry me over the threshold?â you joked. âThought you wanted to make this special .â
He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.
âDean!â you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.
He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.
âAre you sure you want to do this?â he asked.
You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.
âIf I tell you something, you promise you wonât make fun of me?â you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.
âPromise.â
âI was kinda⌠holding out for you.â You drew your eyes up to meet his.
âSeriously?â he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasnât because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldnât believe it.
You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.
âI wasnât kidding, you know,â he said.
You tilted your head in question.
âAbout making it special for you. I know itâs like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if ââ
âThereâs no one better for me, you idiot.â And you almost told him everything. That youâve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobbyâs, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didnât want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire countryâs electric grid.Â
He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips â it wasnât sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him.Â
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldnât help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And â
âYou need to stop that.â It wasnât a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You donât know when that happened, but you werenât complaining. In fact, it spurred you on.Â
You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more.Â
âWhatâre you gonna do about it, Winchester?â
He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.
âI can fuck you like itâs your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.â
âAnd howâs that?â
He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.
âLike the fucking brat you are.â
You almost came from that alone.Â
Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they donât have kinks. That they donât watch porn. That they donât have a plethora of sex toys in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place.Â
âDo your worst.â
It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didnât miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you couldâve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked.Â
When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, âActually, Iâd like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.â But that wasnât what you wanted.Â
âYou sure you know what youâre asking for?â
You rolled your eyes. âI trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. Youâve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.â
âOh, Iâve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.â
âReally?â you asked, raising an eyebrow.
âOh, yeah,â he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. âAny hard limits?â
You shook your head. âI trust you. I mean, like, donât pee on me or ââ
âNot gonna happen. But⌠most everything else?â
âDean,â you began, looking at him pointedly, âI trust you. If it helps, Iâve used like, toys on myself before. And I donât mean just a vibrator, I mean like⌠well, you get the gist.â
âSo I donât have to go easy on you, is what youâre saying?â
âPut me in my place,â you repeated.
âAlright,â he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, âbut just so weâre clear, thatâs the last order youâll be giving tonight.â
Your throat bobbed and you nodded. âYes, Sir.âÂ
You meant it as a joke, but it didnât come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core.Â
Dean didnât waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasnât the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this .Â
He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and âeating you outâ didnât come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasnât anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didnât matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you â nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.
âOh â fuck,â you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early.Â
âYouâre close,â he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.
You nodded. âMmhm,â you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening.Â
âHold it,â he ordered.
Your eyes shot open, because it wasnât the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldnât. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling â fucking asshole.
âMm â fuck â please!â you cried out.
âWhen you come tonight, itâs gonna be on my cock. So hold it.â
You didnât think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then âÂ
He stopped.
He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.
You whined.
He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it.Â
âStop whining,â he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. âOr Iâll give you something to whine about.â
You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldnât be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.
âGood girl.â He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you.Â
You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since heâd last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.
âHas anyone ever told you,â he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, âthat you are very,â another kiss to the other side, âvery,â one more to the middle of your chest, âimpatient?â He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. âMakes me wanna take my time.âÂ
His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snailâs pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didnât matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you.Â
He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and itâs not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didnât want those clothes touching your bare skin.
âDean?â you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.
âYou okay, sweetheart? Do you want to stââ
âNo! God, no. Itâs just ââ you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because thatâs gross. âItâs just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and Iâm like, totally naked, and I donât want ââ
He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing heâd ever seen. âI gotchya, baby.â
Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, youâd been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, thatâs what you were to him now. His, and no one elseâs. You filed the thought away under âThings to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchesterâ.
He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like youâd imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasnât any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him.Â
âYou okay?â he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.
âMhm,â you managed, gulping.
He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it.Â
âDean,â you breathed.
âHm?â
âI wantâŚâ you couldnât find it in yourself to finish your request.
âI know, sweetheart,â he whispered.
You decided you liked âbabyâ better.Â
âPlease.â
âI thought you wanted me to put you in your place?â
You shook your head. âN-next time. Just, please .â
His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said.Â
âNext time, huh?â he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his.Â
You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasnât messing around.Â
âRoll your eyes at me again, and next time Iâll really do my worst.â
You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.
âBut not this time?â There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.
âDo you ever get tired of being such a brat?âÂ
âDunno,â you shrugged. âDo you ever get tired of it?âÂ
His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. âNothing I canât handle.â
âHm. But not this time, right?â
âY/N ââ he warned.
âAfraid youâre gonna hurt me? Scare me? Whatâs really keeping you from putting me in my placeâŚÂ Sir?â
For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, âOw!â from your lips.
âColor?â he questioned roughly.
âSo fucking green,â you replied, dazed.
Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didnât think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.
âFuck, youâre dripping,â he commented. Five more hits.Â
âOh, fuck!â you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind.Â
âYeah, but you like it, donât you?â It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. âYou just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?â Three more.Â
âMmph!â Your cries were muffled by the comforter.Â
âYeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.â He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. âJesus Christ,â he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. âAre you sure?â
You nodded. âYeah,â you replied breathily.Â
He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out.Â
âGood?â he asked.
âSo fucking good.â
When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out.Â
âHarder,â you encouraged, and he obliged. âFaster.â
He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailorâs mouth to shame.Â
âShit, baby,â he panted into your neck. âGod damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.â He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then â
âCome. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.â
And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually.Â
âYou okay?â Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.
âMore than,â you smiled.
He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for â
âYou know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.â
He snorted. âTheyâre half right.â
âA switch?â you asked, surprised. âLucky me.â
He chuckled softly. âSorry about your ass.â
You shrugged. âI was asking for it.â
âOh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I⌠I dunno. It was your first time, I didnât want to get too ââ
âIt was perfect, Dean.â
âYeah?â
You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. âYeah.â
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âTim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!â
Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.
âI gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! Theyâre out tonight!â
Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.
âSetting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, whyâd you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancientâs sake.â
Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.
âUm⌠for the aesthetic?â
Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.
âYou- you canât stop me!â
And yeah, Danny really canât. In the months heâs been mooching off of the Drakes (not that theyâll notice), Dannyâs learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesnât actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.
He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didnât get caught after arguing for an hour about it.
He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Timâs) whirring with plans to haunt them.
Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.
âOkay. I donât want to see you take unnecessary risks, but Iâm also aware that I canât really stop you. So. Iâll go with you.â
Maybe this is like⌠Timâs obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.
âButâŚ!â Timâs eyes darted to Dannyâs chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.
âTheyâre healed.â Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. âIâll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You canât make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?â
âYeah!â Timâs face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Dannyâll be fine, heâs got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.
âCool. Weâll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, weâre heading home, okay?â
âOkay!â The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Dannyâs human heart squeeze painfully. âCâmon! I donât want to be late!â
âWe need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,â Danny said fondly.
âIâm not stalking them! Iâm observing them!â
âUh-huh,â Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. âTheyâre not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows theyâre being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesnât.â
Danny felt more than saw Timâs pout.
He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the Cityâs Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.
âThere!â
Danny obliged. With Dannyâs flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.
Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.
âWanna mess with them?â He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.
Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. âYes.â
Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.
ââ
Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.
Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown peopleâs asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).
Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.
âB, I wanna go home.â
âHm.â Thatâs a resounding yes if Dickâs ever heard one.
Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.
Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.
ââ
Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batmanâs cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm heâs emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantesâ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.
He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.
ââ
Danny: oh, this kidâs got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, heâs a liminal from all that tap water
Danny: *forgets Tim isnât a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*
ââ
Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity
Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isnât but theyâre literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:
ââ
Dick as Robin: *cackles*
Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*
Gotham Criminals: *fear*
#danny phantom#bamf danny phantom#dick grayson#tim drake is a menace#tim drake#baby tim drake#Tim Drake is a little shit#Danny Phantom is a little shit#theyâre messing with the bats#and getting away with it#inspired by dickâs iconic Robin cackle#that creepy lil shit#i love them your honor#theyâre brothers your honor#Gothamâs F grade tap water#thanks scarecrow#Gothamâs tap water#dc x dp#dp x dc
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If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?
That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar đ
Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!
Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.
A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness
Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.
Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth
Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didnât see later; English is not my 1st language.
Word count: 2,6k
Requested? Yes.
Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also Iâve seen all the requests for a part 2 of âHe's My Collarâ, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc Iâm working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!
General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist
Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.
Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.
Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.
You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.
â Hey! I heard what happened. Howâre you feeling? â The alienâs face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.
â Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. â Superman shook his head.
â I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- â Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. â You called someone? â His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.
Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.
â I didn't. â You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.
Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.
â Superman. â Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. â (Y/N). This is Penny-One. â He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. â He is here to take care of you. â You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.
â T-Take care of me? â You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.
â This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. â Supermanâs protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..
â You have your own responsibilities. â Batman simply states. â You should go.
Penny-One simply turns to you.
â It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. â You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.
You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).
Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?
At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.
Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someoneâs bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.
Did you fall asleep?
That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.
You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere â startling you even more â push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lanternâs construct.
â Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know sheâs scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. â You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.
Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquamanâs blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.
â You can release them now, Green Lantern. â It's Superman's voice.
â He is not going to. â You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. â He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. â I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? â He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss⌠And other obscene things. â Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.
â Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. â The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament⌠It would make such a messâŚ
â I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.
â I will make you scream! â You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.
â Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.
The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.
â WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? â You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.
Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.
It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.
â We came here to nurse you back to health. â Wonder Woman speaks.
â Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? â The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.
â I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. â Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. â Those two came in later. â He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. â Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. â Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.
â You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. Iâve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. â You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.
â I am are aware of my neglect. â Neglect? â But it's going to be different now that we are reunited⌠â Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?
â Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. â Wonder Woman caresses your face. â I don't even know what they think they are doing hereâŚ
â What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? â The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.
â Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. â Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! â What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? â The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.
â Iâm protecting Atlantisâs future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. â Batman shook his head.
â Iâve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.
â Then why aren't you there?
Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.
â Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). â Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.
â Let me do it, Penny-One. â Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).
You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup â after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender â, and take your medicine, Green Lanternâs temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.
They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.
You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.
Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while â slightly â mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lanternâs side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.
Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.
You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.
And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.
This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.
It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ringâs power, and the constructs start dissipating.
You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.
You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.
â Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What⌠W-What are you guys doing hereâŚ? â The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.
â Youâre late. â Batman states.
â Slowest man alive. â Green Lantern calls out his friend.
Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.
â What did you do to them? â At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.
â GET. OUT!
â But-
â OUT!
â But, (Y/N)-
â NOW! GET OUT NOW!
They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.
â N-Not you⌠I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later⌠I-If it's n-not bothering you⌠â The older man smiles placantinly at you.
â Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.
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#bruce wayne x reader#yandere dc#justice league#yandere batman x reader#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#masterlist#yandere justice league x reader#yandere justice league#hal jordan x reader#yandere hal jordan x reader#justice league x reader#diana prince x reader#yandere diana prince x reader#yandere green lantern x reader#green lantern x reader#yandere superman#superman x reader#yandere superman x reader#clark kent x reader#yandere clark kent x reader#yandere martian manhunter x reader#yandere aquaman x reader#yandere arthur curry x reader#arthur curry x reader#yandere wonder woman x reader#bruce wayne x assistant reader#justice league x assistant reader#yandere barry allen x reader#yandere flash x reader
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R&R
Pairing:Â Cassian x Reader
Summary:Â Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: nothing! fluff <3
a/n: A little drabble as I ignore my homework.
~~
Cassian was tired.Â
He felt it in his bones and the cracks of his skin.
Dirt was ingrained in every crevice of his leathers, dusting out as he shucked the articles to the ground and stepped into the steaming bath. Training didnât usually take this much out of him, but there were a host of recruits that he needed to train, all so eager to be part of the troops after the victorious War with Hybern.Â
All eager but so, so inept. Â
And then you werenât home when he got here, which pissed him off.Â
All he could think about during the hours of training drills and conditioning and corrections was coming home to you, pressing his face into your neck, and falling asleep to the warmth of your skin. He had sent a spark down the bond when he started his journey home, whichâto himâwas a request for you to come home as well.Â
You did not.Â
Cassian dried himself off and threw on the closest pair of cotton pants he could find, falling into bed with a huff.Â
Ridiculous.Â
He was in bed and he was alone.Â
He covered his eyes with the bulk of his arm.Â
Heâd sleep then. Fine.Â
Only he couldnât sleep. The bed smelled like you and he tugged at the bond again. This time, you actually did offer him a reply, and Cassian wanted to drown in the warmth you sent through his chest.Â
Where the hell were you?
He flipped onto his stomach and shoved his face into a pillow. He should be able to sleep without you there. He was Illyrian; he had slept in far worse conditions. On rocks, in a tree, standing up against war-torn buildingsâCassian could sleep anywhere at any time. But then he met you and he fell in love with you and you werenât getting your ass home fast enough.
Cauldron help him if you ever decided to go on vacation.Â
Mor had tried something like that when you were freshly mated, posing a girl's trip to you and Feyre. That idea hadnât gone far.
It had been more about sex and lust and being so enamored by you that he couldnât breathe back then. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep.Â
The bedroom door clicked open and unrelenting joy washed away the irritation he was harboring for you. Because how could he be irritated when you came into the room all soft and smiley and bright? Upon further contemplation, Cassian decided that no, he wasnât ever irritated at you, actually.Â
âHi, Cass,â you called, the sound muting the headache that had begun to form behind the generalâs eyes. âHow were the recruits? Are they ready to charge into battle?â
You flitted about the room, taking off your coat and setting your bags down and not paying attention to him at all. Cassian fought the urge to tackle you onto the bed just to get you to stop moving. He couldnât even get a good look at you like this, and he hadnât seen you all day. He left before you woke up.Â
âYeah maybe in a few years,â Cassian grumbled, following you with his eyes as you started cleaning up the damn room. âCâmere, sweetheart.âÂ
âI will in just a moment. This place is a mess. You got dirt everywhere, did you know that?âÂ
âI know. Iâm sorry. Iâll clean it up later, just come here.âÂ
You tsked and ignored him. Cassian cursed at the ceiling.
âI was out with Mor earlier and we stopped by Nyx's school to surprise him,â you giggled, grabbing a stupid broom. âHe was adorable, of course. He painted you and Az for one of his projects in art. Youâll have to see it when he brings it home. I swear, Cass, he is just hmphââÂ
The broom clattered to the floor, forgotten along with the dirt that lined the wood. Your cheeks were encased by Cassianâs hands as he kissed you, and he ran one back to entangle it with your hair. Gods, you smelled good, like strawberries or apples or whatever fruity perfume you were trying while you were out shopping. Cassian deepened the kiss and relished in the surprised sound you made.Â
âYou didnât even kiss me when you came in,â he practically pouted, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. âOr look at me.âÂ
You gripped at his biceps to keep yourself upright, his body pressed so closely to yours. âI didnât mean to,â you whispered.Â
âI know.â He nudged your nose with his. âLay down with me.âÂ
âBut the floorââÂ
âLay down with me,â he repeated.
A brief pause, a small nod; right now, it took very little to make Cassian so inexplicably happy.Â
He gathered you in his arms the moment your body hit the sheets, burying his face in your neck like he was supposed to do about thirty minutes ago. And then you ran your fingers across his scalp and Cassian decided he was dead. There was no other explanation for this type of bliss.Â
âDid you have a bad day?â you asked softly.Â
âDay was fine. Long, but fine,â he grumbled, pulling you tighter, pressing his lips to your skin.Â
You hummed. âThen why couldnât I clean the room?âÂ
âBecause Iâm tired and you were over there.âÂ
âNot seeing the correlation, my love.âÂ
Tire was weighing heavy on Cassianâs mind. His body relaxed even more into the bed as his hands ran down the length of your body.Â
âI need to hold you to fall asleep,â he replied as if it were obvious. Because it was.Â
âOh.âÂ
He grunted out a confirmation.
âWell, Iâm not exactly ready for bed yet and I told RhysââÂ
âI love you,â Cassian interrupted. âPlease stop talking.âÂ
And then Cassian was no longer pissed or annoyed or tired because nothing was out of place. Sleep found him quickly.
#cassian x reader#cassian x you#cassian x y/n#cassian x fem!reader#cassian acotar#cassian imagine#a court of thorns and roses#acotar
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"What do you mean a real baby?!"
Kenji Sato X [afab]reader [Oneshot]
TW : spouse reader/petnames/implied sex/pregnancy/Emi mention/panic/mixed POV
Hi guys so I made this on a whim, lmao. Just came to my head lmao. I haven't properly proofread it yet but I hope you like itđŤďż˝ďż˝
Šall rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.
He didn't know what to do. Kenji found it. The thing that turned his world into a total 180 once again. As Kenji stared down at the positive pregnancy test he found in trash, Kenji's mind was racing a million miles per house. He had just started adjusting to life without Emi, he would visit the kaiju infant from time to time but now this...was something else.
"How the hell did this happen?! I mean..I know how it happened but how?!" Kenji murmured to himself. His wife was at the store and he was taking the time to properly process everything. "Ken Sato..y-you can do it...no you can't! Oh my God!"
Kenji started panicking a little. Mina tried to calm him down. "Ken, you need to calm down. Your heart is racing. You'll be fine. A human child is almost the same as Emi" Mina reported. The robot assistant hovered next to Kenji as he clawed at his hair panicked.
"MINA! What do I do? That's an actual baby! Something my size! No...even smaller" Kenji gulped whiles hugging his knees. Kenji didn't even notice that the door had opened and his wife had returned from the store.
"Baby? You okay? What's going on?" I asked deeply worried as I sat down on my knees on the bed. I gently pet my husband's head. I looked around to find anything to give me a clue as to what made my husband panic so much. My eyes stopped as I found the positive test, I had taken a few hours ago. I hadnt been feeling well for a few weeks, before then Kenji I had been going at it like rabbits so it was kinda..expected. With widened eyes, I took a deep breath and gently hugged him. "Talk to me. Whats going on your head? And yes, I am pregnant"
Kenji's world turned upside once again. He felt alot of things now with this confirmation. Worry, happiness, panic, joy, fear. It was all over the place. "I mean..wow...I'm worried about taking care of a human baby this time.. they're much smaller" Kenji started and exhaled deeply. I hummed listening to him. "Don't get me wrong I'm happy..I'm j-just worried I'm not up to it. This baby is different from a Kaiju. W-What if i end up like my dad? Or my kids end up hating me later because of Ultraman"
"Kenji..breath. Deep breathes, okay? Shhh.."I soothed my husband as I listened to him. I put my hands on his shoulder and gently massaged him to ease his tension. "Honey..I know you're worried but trust me, you've got this. You're gonna be an excellent father. Think about it..remember how you took care of Emi. You're her dad too" I started whiles kissing his face softly.
"You're gonna be a better father than you're dad. You know firsthand how it felt with your dad and I know you wouldn't want our baby to feel how you did. You're gonna be fine. One day at a time. Plus we took care of Emi so well and look her..she's the most beautiful and friendly Kaiju" I reassured him. Kenji took deep breathes and listened to me. His stress and worries were eased but not completely.
"You're right. You're right.." Kenji murmured.
"I'm always right" I joked playfully whiles nuzzling into his nose. Kenji rolled his eyes playfully and kissed my cheek.
"See, baby. You're gonna be fine, okay? The best father ever. Look at our baby Emi. You have some daddy experience" I smiled whiles kissing his face. Kenji chuckled and returned the affection. Kenji began rambling about his excitement. I cupped his face as I listened to him.
"Bet you wanna go and tell Emi right?" I giggled whiles tilting my head with shake of my head. Kenji bit his lip in pure excitement and nodded. I pecked his lips. "Go on. Tell her I said hi, okay? Don't be too late ,okay? We have a lot to talk about"
"I won't. I love you, sweetheart" Kenji laughed and stood up as he opened the doors to the balcony before jumping out and transforming into the giant of light he was.
"I love you too, baby"
#ken sato x reader#kenji sato x reader#kenji sato#ken sato#ultraman 2024#ultraman rising#emi ultraman#oneshot
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Iâm not usually one for miscommunication as a trope but hear me out:
Arthur thinks he and Merlin are together because Merlin says shit like âyouâre my destinyâ and âtwo sides of the same coinâ fairly often.
He even looks fond or proud whenever he calls Arthur a prat, and pet names never suited them. He considered it once but it just felt weird. âIdiot.â Changed to âIdiot <3â when they finally got together and that suits them much better than Darling or Babe or whatever else.
And itâs not like he doesnât say romantic stuff back, all: âyouâre the bravest man I ever met.â Or âyouâre the best friend I have and I couldnât bare to lose youâ
Meanwhile, Merlin pinpoints the same moment Arthur believed they started dating as when Arthur started acting more affectionate and Merlinâs crush got dialled up to 11.
Arthur doesnât seem to mind, so he pushes his luck occasionally and will hug Arthur after a long day or will lean on him if theyâre eating together on a hunting trip. Merlin absolutely cherishes these moments, but heâs secretly wishing they meant as much to Arthur as they do to him. (Spoiler alert: they do.)
So they must be together, Merlin just canât be bothered with titles and with everything that happened, Agravane and Morgana betraying him, it would be ideal to wait for an announcement of their relationship.
He gifts Merlin clothes, new boots, will leave flowers in his chambers and asked for the cook to make more of Merlinâs favourites so he can steal food from Arthurâs plate because he claims it tastes better when it isnât his food.
Arthur gave Merlin his motherâs sigil, for crying out loud. Theyâre obviously together.
And even better, (you can pry demi or ace Arthur from my cold dead hands) they donât even need to be intimate beyond the occasional hug or soft gestures like Merlin brushing the hair from his face before Arthur goes to sleep at night and Arthur doing the same whenever theyâre not in the castle and sleeping next to each other. He was worried at first, but Merlin never expected it, which Arthur just takes as: âAnd how stupid to worry? who knows him better than Merlin? Of course he would already know Arthur didnât feel comfortable with that sort of stuff.â
Then one day, a delegation comes to Camelot and one of the foreign knights is flirting with Merlin. Arthur sees, and he doesnât usually feel any need to act on his jealousy because he trusts Merlin, but this knight isnât flirting in the way Gwaine does thatâs just part of who he is, and Merlin looks uncomfortable. So he calls Merlin over to him, starts acting like a prat, and keeps Merlin âbusyâ all night by keeping his goblet full or usual servants duties.
Then later, Merlin thanks Arthur but says he doesnât need to worry and he can handle himself. Arthur, finally relaxing after being ready to start a fight for the past three hours, pulls Merlin into a hug and kisses his forehead, because let the medieval gays be soft sometimes. He whispers something like, âI know you donât like talking about it, and that youâve said you donât need a title, but you shouldnât have to handle everything on your own.â
Merlin pulls back, looking shocked and confused. Then they actually have to talk about everything.
Merlinâs just fine with actually dating the guy heâs got a massive crush on and now heâs more willing to instigate hugs and affection. (Arthur just thought Merlin wasnât going to push him to not make him uncomfortable but secretly wishes that he would instigate more) They end up sleeping in the same bed in Camelot too, because cuddles and softness, something Arthur wanted for a while but didnât know how to ask for.
Basically all the problems in the relationship that Arthur was worried about but kinda felt âitâs already more than I could hope forâ so didnât want to bring up get worked out naturally and Merlin, who was previously worried about his friendship getting ruined if they changed the dynamic too much, is shocked by how little actually changed now that theyâre together. He just gets to hold Arthurâs hand, can be less subtle about stealing from his dinner, gets to relax and gets an Arthur thatâs more clingy and soft now that Merlin knows heâs allowed to reciprocate affection.
They still tease each other, theyâre still two idiots sharing a braincell that they occasionally give to Leon to babysit, theyâre just more open about being in love now. (More open to each other, anyway. Literally everyone else in Camelot knew long before they did)
Bonus points if theyâve been talking about their relationship and having the important conversation with each other the entire time, just without actually talking about it. Merlin asking why Arthur suddenly changed how affectionate he is and Arthur saying he thought he was allowed. Merlinâs just like âcool, as long as youâre okay. Iâm glad youâre feeling more comfortable and relaxed.â And glad thereâs no love spells or anything sinister going on. Arthur says he doesnât like Merlin flirting with Gwaine, even if he doesnât mean it, and Merlin agrees to stop if it makes him uncomfortable. He doesnât think too much into it, just thinks Arthur doesnât like the casual flirting and believes that relationships are important so casual stuff isnât super comfortable. Merlin is still friends with Gwaine, just makes less jokes about going home with or marrying him.
Like, theyâre having entire conversations and maintaining a fully functional healthy relationship, theyâre just fucking idiots at the same time.
#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#iâm bad at tagging#merlin bbc#merthur#once and future idiots#another fic idea i donât have time for#merlin fic idea#medieval husbands#miscommunication#miscommunication trope#two sides of the same coin#two halves of the same idiot#Arthur got the braincell#sorta#merlin fanfic#fic ideas#merlin x arthur
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Poker Face!
_______________
Spencer Reid x Reader
:: Itâs game night at Rossiâs, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emilyâs place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda youâre playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authorsâ notes :: i didnât realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, heâs literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
________________
âOk, ok! Thatâs enough!â Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.Â
âCareful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,â Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.Â
âYou guys are relentless,â she continued.
âI can beat him, I know it!â you shouted, your eyes comically wide.Â
âNo shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?â Derek commented.
âI may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,â you argued.
âHoney, youâve lost eight games in a row!â JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.Â
âNevermind that! Iâm gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,â you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
âI hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but Iâm kicking you out. It's late and an old manâs got to get some rest,â Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of âBooâsâ and groans.Â
âCome on, come on. Call your DDâs, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,â he bargained.Â
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.Â
âI assume youâre gonna take a cab?â he asked you.
âThatâs the plan.â
âSo we can share since I donât live far from you. Iâll walk from your place,â he suggested.Â
âOh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,â you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, âWeâre going to your place and finishing what we started.âÂ
âOh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. Weâre gonna be up all night!â Spencer laughed, and you gasped.Â
âYouâre an asshole,â you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, youâve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldnât? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.Â
You walked into Spencerâs apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasnât going to cheat. You knew he wasnât, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.Â
âDo you want anything to drink?â he asked from the kitchen.
âWhatcha you got?â you asked.
âIâve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,â he told you.
âOh! Bring the wine! Weâll drink the beers later,â you winked at him, âLetâs get the fucking party started.â
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times youâd lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldnât stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.Â
âOoh,â you cooed, mischievously.
âWhat?â Spencer questioned.
âOh, nothing, just had an idea,â you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.Â
âThis canât be good,â he mumbled, shaking his head.Â
âWhy donât we spice things up, shall we?â
âNo, no way,â Spencer already knew what you were going to say.Â
âStrip Poker!âÂ
âNo!â he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
âWhat, you scared? Scared that suddenly Iâm starting to beat you and youâre gonna have to take all your clothes off?â you teased.
âNo, I am a gentleman and Iâm not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,â he argued sassily.
âYou are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. Youâre just chicken.â
âOk, fine then. You dealer, or am I?â he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.Â
âWhy donât you hit me this time,â you said.Â
âYou got it,â he responded, âCare to shuffle while I grab the beers?â
âOf course. About time we crack those open,â you smiled widely.Â
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldnât help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesnât know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe heâs always felt this way about you.Â
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.Â
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didnât know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
âFuck,â you muttered under your breath, Spencerâs breath hitched.Â
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.Â
âWhat? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?â
âNo,â he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.Â
âI swear to-â you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didnât, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.Â
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.Â
âWe donât have to keep going,â Spencer cleared his throat.
âAnd why would I do that?â Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adamâs apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.Â
âOk, then,â he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and youâd hit blackjack, or you could build up; but thatâs risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasnât your fault he was distracted.
âHit me,â you egged.
âYou got it,â he responded.Â
A five. Fuck.Â
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.Â
âOne more time, boy wonder,â you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.Â
âI stand,â he mutters, probably knowing he lost.Â
âLetâs see those cards, baby,â you teased.
âYou first,â he told you, and placed your cards.Â
âBlackjack, baby!âÂ
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.Â
âI did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!â you shouted taunting him and he couldnât help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.Â
âI- I was distracted,â he shuttered.Â
âDamn right you were,â you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.Â
âIt wasnât fair game,â he bantered.
âIt wasnât fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and youâre being a sore loser,â you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.Â
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.Â
âI told you, I was distracted,â he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.Â
âBlah, blah,â you whispered.
âDonât give me that.â
âNow, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?â you whispered.
âWhatâs that?â he bantered.
âYou lost.â
âRight, unfairly I might add,â he joked.
âIf all youâre gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,â you told him.Â
âBe my guest.â
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
âI thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,â he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
âLike thatâs gonna happen,â you rolled your eyes playfully.Â
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.Â
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.Â
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.Â
âFuck, youâre gonna drive me insane,â he told you.
âLet me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?â you taunted him.
âGod, no. I couldnât wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,â he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.Â
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldnât help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.Â
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
âOh jeez, I feel like I could come already,â you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadnât had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencerâs cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didnât know you needed, you didnât realize you craved so much until this very moment.Â
âIâm a bit embarrassed to admit the same,â he chuckled breathlessly, âIf you donât start moving, Iâm not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.â
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencerâs hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and thatâs when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencerâs small apartment.Â
âShit. You feel so good,â he breathed out, âI thought Iâd last longer.â
âPlease, please donât come yet,â you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencerâs name dripped from your lips like honey.Â
âOh, thatâs it,â Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that yourâs wasnât also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.Â
âIâm close, fuck Iâm so close, Spence,â you whined.
âLet go, sweetheart.â
âNgh!â you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the otherâs breath and slowly you began to match each otherâs erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencerâs one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.Â
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.Â
âThat was really good,â you giggled.
âIt really was,â he agreed.
âIâm gonna tell everyone about this,â you whispered wickedly.Â
âWhat?â Spencer questioned fearfully.Â
âI beat you in Blackjack,â you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.Â
âGive it a rest you would?â he sighed.Â
âNo way. Iâm gonna tell everyone. And everyoneâs gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,â you teased.
âAlright, you won fair and square,â he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencerâs bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.Â
#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#mgg fluff#mgg x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents âĄĚ
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of âem but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where heâs still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 9)
It was snowing.
Actually, 'snowing' was an understatement. It was a freaking blizzard. And it really came out of nowhere too, just a thin layer of snow covering the ground during the early hours and now, you couldn't see anything besides white throught the window.
Oh yeah, you were also sick.
To be fair, you knew you would get sick eventually thanks to this huge change in temperature. It wasnât even because you were out with Johnny yesterday night; you would have gotten sick regardless. It just happened that everytime the seasons changed, a flu would strike you.
It happens, you were used to it, but still...
You certainly weren't used to the attention.
First of all, you woke up with someone already in your room. Two someones, actually. Johnny was anxiously pacing close to your bed, a frown on his face as he sniffled the air around you. Kyle was with him, head tilted in your direction as he also frowned in concern.
And in a second, Kyle's large hand was pressing against your forehead, then your warm, red cheeks, and then your small neck. His hand felt warm, as always, but even you could feel it that you were warmer, making him tsc in concern.
So, they decided to place you on the large living room couch, still in the sweater and sweatpants you were wearing as pajamas, propped carefully against the many pillows and cushions, with a blanket draped over your lap and legs.
The same blanket John had bought for you the day before.
"Temperature?" Price asks, voice gruff and arms crossed as he watches Kyle staring at the thermometer with a frown.
"37,7ÂşC. That's high for humans." He sighs, putting the thermometer aside.
Johnny frowns a bit at the information, sitting close to you so he could also check your temperature for himself.
"Almost as warm as a werewolf..." He mutters with his own frown on his face, leaning close enough to almost lay his head against your lap and torso. "How are ye feeling, wee pup?"
"F-Fine..." Your voice sounds a little rough, your throat a bit raspy. "I... I have... I usually get sick when the temperature changes... too quickly..."
He nods and croons at your quiet answer, now actually leaning to rub his head and fluffy ears against your chest.
"Here you go." Simon says quietly as he approaches with a light blue mug on hands, passing to you carefully as he kneels in front of the couch.
The mug was big and warm on your hold, but it was also enveloped in a small white cloth to make sure you wouldn't burn your hands, even tho the liquid inside wasn't even that hot. It was warm, just like it has to be.
"Lemon and honey tea, darlin'. Helps your throat nicely." He grunts out, heavy hand coming up to your forehead too, making you close your eyes slightly in satisfaction. His hands are much cooler thanks to his Wraith nature.
As he takes his hand away, you take a small sip of the tea. You weren't a fan of tea, but considering it's just lemon and honey... you can manage.
"With the way it's snowing outside, it's an indoor day for all of us." Price notes, looking out the window with his burly arms still crossed.
"Ah'll 'ave fun shoveling the snow later..." Johnny murmurs sarcastically as he sits up once again, glaring outside the window.
"Darlin', the tea." Simon reminds you gently after you took too long for a second sip.
You blush a little, nodding quietly as you take another sip. At least it felt soothing going down your throat; it didnât hurt like it usually did when you forced yourself to drink water all the other times you were sick.
"Okay, I searched, and⌠it seems to be safe for humans to take Tylenol, but only in small doses." Kyle warns seriously, his wing twitching for a moment as if to reach for your small form sitting on the couch.
"I'll go get it." Simon gets up quickly, going to the bathroom closest to the living room.
You were sipping on your tea, distracted, staring at the direction Simon went off, enough to startle you as John kneels by your side on the couch, fixing the blanket on top of you to make sure it wouldn't slip off.
"Tell us if you feel worse or need anything, yes, hatchling?" he murmurs gruffly, leaning close enough to bump his forehead against yours. You were small enough to do it without his big horns getting in the way.
"O... Okay..." You mumble, a bit caught off guard, shyly looking away. "B-But... I'm fine..."
"Mhm, yeah, lassie, ye are. An' Ahm gonna know if ye aren't..." Johnny murmurs in the most omnious way possible, making you shiver a bit in place as you stare at him wide eyed, John just rolling his eyes with a smile on his lips. "Can smell ye, gonna knae right awa' if you worsen, yeah, wee pup?" He croons, scottish accent strong, leaning closer with a big, smug grin.
"Stop scaring the kid, mutt." Simon growls as he comes back, slapping the back of Johnny's head with a bit too much force in your opinion, but all the werewolf does is snap his teeth at the bigger man's direction with a huge smile still on his face.
"We only have in tablets?" Kyle murmurs, face scrunching in displeasure.
"Unfortunally. I'll buy drops later for next time." Simon rumbles back, gently running his hand over Kyle's ruffled feathers, making the harpy relax a little. "The tablets are good for now."
"These the 500mg?" Kyles asks, humming in consideration as Simon nods.
"Too strong." John rumbles lowly from his place kneeling by your side, hand firmly planted on your blanket.
The harpy nods, agreeing with the dragon as he stares at the tablet he popped out on his hand. In a quick movement, Kyle bites more than half of the tablet off, leaning over the back of the couch to give you the rest.
"Here you go, baby. Swallow it with your tea." He smiles lovingly, sharp nails gently putting the small piece against your small palm.
"Y-You swallowed...?" You mumble, slightly shocked with his actions.
"This medication is not enough to have any effect on me, chick." He smiles, a small and gentle laugh coming out of his mouth.
"Garrick has taken much stronger shit just to stay awake during missions." Ghost huffs humerously.
That comment certainly makes you curious, but your attention is called back to John as he gently pushes your small hand close to your mouth.
"Take it, doll, come on."
You nod quietly, quickly putting the tablet in your mouth and taking a sip of the almost-finished tea to swallow it under the watchful eyes of the four of them
"Good." John croons deeply, his eyes getting lighter for a second, startling you a little.
"Pup needs food." Johnny mumble, once again leaning close to your body.
"I'll make it," John huffs, climbing back to his feet. "Make a good bean soup with some bacon. Gonna liven up the pup right away."
"Add collard greens, great for the human flu." Ghost notes gravelly, leaning over the back of the couch where he and Kyle were standing to grab the empty mug from your hands.
Theyâre starting to give you a small headache. They truly didnât stop, did they? They were always moving, always doing something. They worked so well together too, on top of their own game and each otherâs.
"While they do that, it's time for a nap, don't ye think?" Johnny rumbles, pulling you to him in a quick motion that gets you almost dizzy.
"I-I just woke up..." You mumble, unsure, trying to look up at him from where you were laying against his body, but you were unsucceful as he simply pulled your blanket over you once again and made you lay sideways, putting a pillow over his stomach so you could lay your head on it confortably.
"And ye're sick, pup. Ye sleep." He rumbles gently, patting your small head of hair.
"That's good. We'll call you when the soup gets ready." Kyle nods with a loving smile on his face, his wings puffing out now for a different reason than his stress from moments ago.
Simon rounds the couch to reach the fireplace, adding more firewood with expertise, moving the still-not-burned logs with his bare hands to make sure the fire keeps going. Kyle takes the time to also draw the curtains close, immediately bringing darkness to the room now that all that expanse of white snow was covered.
You were still a bit in alert, but the darkness helped your mind to settle a bit, Johnny's warmth under you making you sleepier than you though you would feel as his giant hand kept caressing your short hair, sharp nails scratching oh so gentle against your scalp. Apparently, he's going to be with you all the time to make sure you're safe and sound, healthy and comfortable.
He cooed something very quietly, but you didnât manage to understand it before your eyes fell closed, exhaustion brought on by the flu making you fall asleep quickly.
Your social worker was right... they are so nurturing... you have been with them for barely three days, and yet...
Your eyes go a little misty as you start to lose consciousness.
You don't want to leave.
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