#i'll just be over here burning down my computer

[clair-de-lunar-tears]

not at all related to real life events

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[witherby]

Mother Hen Hal skit perhaps...? Since you said you are up for writing anything, can i recommend some silly mother hen Hal? :3/nf/silly

Y'know what hell yeah. Hal is Mom, and that's canon now.

Also, it doesn't really make sense for me to use the infant gif for Flittermouse when they inevitably get older. Does this one work for you guys? Let me know. I might fiddle around until I find something suitable.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah-ah! Put it down."

You freeze, one hand curled around the handle of the popsicle you were trying to sneak before dinner.

"I'm not a motion sensor, kid. I can still see you if you're standing still. Put. It. Down. If you want a snack then there's a fruit bowl on the counter."

You huff and put the popsicle back in the freezer, stomping over to the bowl to snatch an orange. "Fine."

"What was that?"

You grimace. "Yes, mama."

Hal narrows his eyes at you and holds out his hand. You approach him from where he's leaning against the doorway and hand the orange over, and he starts to peel it for you.

"Kids these days, gettin' sassier and sassier. Y'know when I was young my dad would pop me on the mouth for backtalk."

"Thank goodness you're not your dad," you say, taking it back and stepping into his shadow to let it pull you into the dark. "Thanks, mama."

"Uh huh," he sighs, but his expression is fond as he watches you disappear. He shakes his head and grabs a banana for himself. "Goofy kid. They should be grateful I found 'em in the act and not Alfred."

--

"Disarm that, please."

Jason glances up at Hal from where he's sitting on his bed, currently taking inventory of his ammo and checking the condition of his guns.

"Uh, 'scuse me?"

"You know your dad's rule. No guns in the house. If you wanna keep it upstairs, you've gotta disassemble it."

"Oh," Jason says, scoffing, "what, like I'm gonna suit up and shoot up the place? I'm an asshole, but I'm not that big an asshole."

"Everyone trusts you, Jaybird," Hal says, "but even the best-maintained guns can misfire. A warped firing pin here, too much gunpowder in a bullet there, a hair trigger —"

"You think I'm running around with shitty equipment like an amateur, Jordan?" Jason sneers and picks up one of his pistols, aiming it at Hal's head. It doesn't have any bullets in it, but fear factor is half of his job. "You think this could go off willy-nilly 'cause I dunno how to take care of my toys? Huh? Just because you're fucking Bruce doesn't mean you get to call any shots in this house —"

A green hammer materializes faster than Jason can blink and smacks the gun from his hand. He hisses flexes his fingers, glaring, only lean back when he suddenly finds Hal glaring down at him less than a foot away from the edge of the bed.

"I'm not playing this game with you, Jason Todd-Wayne," he says. The boy actually feels sweat pooling on the back of his neck. "I have to go pick your brother up from school, and when I come back these guns are either going to be in the cave, or disassembled in your bedroom."

"...yes, ma," Jason mumbles. Hal nods once, gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and leaves the room.

--

Tim doesn't glance up when he hears footsteps descending the cave. He keeps scrolling through the security footage from the most recent bank heist on the batcomputer, trying and failing to figure out exactly what the hell Two-Face would want with that many uncut diamonds. Money tends to play very little factor in his scheme of the week, so why —

"Bed time."

"Crime never sleeps," Tim mumbles, rubbing his burning eyes and reaching for the can of Monster on the desk. Another hand swipes it away first, and he scowls. "I'll head up in, like, an hour." He squints when he thinks he sees a partial blueprint sticking out of Two-Face's pocket. "Like two hours."

"Nuh-uh. The one and only time I fell for that, you stayed awake for another fifty hours before we caught onto you. No more computer tonight."

"And I cracked that case fifty hours faster than I would've if I'd slept."

Hal scruffs Tim, hoisting him into the air by the back of his shirt and turning to go back up the staircase.

"Hal! Okay, I'm serious this time, twenty minutes so I can mark my place and —"

"Bed time," Hal hisses. "It is three in the morning and I have to get up at five. Do not test my patience right now."

"Yes, mom," Tim immediately says, eyes wide. He wants to scan that blueprint, but he wants to avoid getting on a sleep-deprived Hal's bad side even more. "Bed time."

Hal nods and carts him off to his room, tucking Tim in and giving him a pointed goodnight before leaving.

--

Dick knows better than to fight Hal when he puts his foot down for something. Bruce he can gradually wheedle into submission, especially if he calls him Dad and gives him big puppy eyes, but Hal is a demon and seemingly immune to all forms of sucking up.

So when he slips out of his window and into the garden, trying to sneak away to go back to Blüdhaven, he runs into Hal and immediately turns back around.

"Smart move. Get back in bed and I'll have Alfred make sure you didn't pop your stitches crawling down the wall like an idiot just now."

"Yes, mum. Sorry, mum."

--

"Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne!"

"Oh, fuck."

Nothing but ice-cold dread zips up and down that boy's spine. He darts out of his room and down the stairs, running from room to room until he finds Hal standing in the vestibule with blood at his feet and a nasty snake bite on his arm. The culprit is trapped in a constructed box several feet away.

"Is it venomous." Hal asks, tone flat.

"No, Mother," Damian says, standing at attention directly in front of him. He keeps his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling.

"Is there more than one."

"No, Mother."

"Will you have it re-homed by tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

"Are you going to start asking for permission before bringing more animals home."

"..."

"Damian."

"Yes, Mother."

Hal steps forward with his good hand and gently cups Damian's cheek.

"Do you understand why I'm upset?" He asks, gentler. Damian nods. "Okay. All I'll say is that I'm glad it was me this happened to, and not any of your siblings. I think you really would've frightened Mouse if they got bit."

Damian's eyes widen briefly, not having considered such a consequence. He stiffens and avoids eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. Hal opens his arms and Damian goes in easily for the offered hug. "I'll get rid of Piper tonight."

"Good. I'm sorry you can't keep her, pal, but it's too dangerous to let it roam the grounds like that. Plus, this bite really smarts. If you're hell-bent on a snake, maybe you can get a small one in, like, a month for your birthday. Real small. Like a hog-nose. Or a corn snake."

"Fine," Damian mumbles, but the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "I'll fetch the first aid kit for you."

"Thanks, 'ppreciate it."

--

"Oh, dearest husband of mine."

Bruce maintains a front of stoic calm, unmoving and unaffected by the saccharine pitch of Hal's voice. He continues stitching himself up in the batcave's med room and doesn't look up when a pair of green boots enters his periphery.

"Can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, shoot," Bruce says, proud that his voice didn't waver.

"What's the thermal rating on the latest iteration of your suit?"

Bruce glances at the jar of burn cream he hasn't cracked open yet to treat the massive wound on his side. A bead of sweat forms on his temple.

"It's —"

"Is it high enough to withstand a condensed, point-blank blast directly from the sun?"

He doesn't respond. Bruce finishes his stitch job and ties it off, then reaches over for the jar. Hal snatches it.

"Answer the question, Wayne."

Bruce swallows thickly. "No. It's not thermally rated high enough to withstand a condensed blast as powerful as the sun, obviously."

"Obvi — oh. Okay, it was obvious. I'm glad it was obvious. That's fantastic. I just have a follow-up question, then."

The jar creaks in Hal's grip. His free hand is clenched in a tight fist.

"If you knew your suit wasn't sturdy enough to take a blast like that, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STEP IN FRONT OF IT!?"

Bruce clears his throat. "It was going to hit you, and you weren't watching your six."

"I AM ENCASED IN A MAGIC GLOWING SUIT MADE OF WILLPOWER, BRUCE. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE. YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND IN LEATHER AND KEVLAR."

Bruce slides off the table, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. A pair of green arms hook him under his armpits and heave him back onto it with a not-so-gentle thud, and he winces when it aggravates his injury. "Hal, stop shouting. I already have Tinnitus and this isn't helping."

"Oh, your poor ears," Hal coos, stepping between Bruce's legs. He sets the jar down and gingerly cups Bruce's ears, pouting. "I'll speak softly so I don't cause you further pain. Y'know, like the massive fucking burn in your side from GETTING BLASTED BY A SUN RAY."

"I'm not going to apologize!"

Hal snaps his mouth shut, glaring at Bruce. "What."

"I'm not going to apologize for protecting you." Bruce's hands cover Hal's. He brings them down to his lap, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. "It's very statistically probable I'm going to do it again, as a matter of fact. And I'll keep doing it as long as I think you need to be protected."

He thumbs over the golden band on Hal's left hand, and the edge of the Green Lantern ring on his right.

"Because that's what I promised you when we got married. That as long as I have a body that moves, and lungs that breathe air, and a mind that can think, I will move and breathe and think in whatever way guarantees your health and happiness."

"Collecting battle scars like bottle pops doesn't make me happy, Bruce," Hal murmurs. "One day I'm gonna check my six and find you on the ground like I did today, and one day you're not gonna get back up again."

"That's the risk we take every time we suit up," Bruce sighs. "People in our line of work seldom make it to retirement age, love."

Hal lifts his hands to cup the back of Bruce's head and draw him into a kiss. There's a subtle tremble in his body that Bruce does his best to soothe with pliant lips and a skilled tongue.

"I'm going to help you with the burn," Hal mumbles against his lips, "then we're going upstairs for movie night, and I'm picking this time. And by then, maybe I'll have decided if you get to sleep in our bed or on the couch tonight."

"Yes, mom," Bruce mutters back, grinning. He hisses when Hal flicks his wound. "Sorry."

[yandere--stuck]

Thinking about Yandere!Ratchet from Safety Hazard being on Synthetic Energon and being much more forward with his human. He’s definitely gonna be embarrassed by the way he was with them when he’s off of it lmao

“You're such a tease, you know that?” Ratchet hissed.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears. You turned about, furrowing your brows as you shot a look up to Ratchet at his station by the main computer screens. The green of his optics shone on you like spotlights, glowing brightly as he glowered down at you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, incredulous.

“You think I don't know what you're trying to do,” he sneered. “Showing up here, showing off your flesh, teasing me…”

“Ratchet, I'm not dressing any differently from what I usually wear!”

The medic growled, frustrated. “Then, it's not the clothes. It's just you. Something wrong with you that makes you beg for my attention.”

He took a sudden step toward you, the floor of the base shaking for a moment. You backed up, a sudden, cold wave of fear washing over you.

“Ratchet, stop,” You said, voice wary. “You're not making sense and you're scaring me.”

A smirk carved its way onto Ratchet’s face as he continued his slow advance on you.

“What doesn't make sense is what you do to me,” Ratchet purred, “I should be disgusted by the sight of your skin, but instead, I have the urge to reach out and-”

Large, stubby digits reached out to grab at you. You tried to sprint past his servo, but he was far too fast, scooping your small form into his servo and holding you tight in his grip. An involuntary shout escaped you, and your stomach dropped as Ratchet lifted you into the air. You were face-to-face with the Medic as he laughed, watching as you attempted to squirm and kick yourself free.

“Gotcha,” He grinned, green eyes shining with something that looked like hunger.

“Ratchet, p- please,” You gasped out, barely able to breathe. “It's the Synth-En! This isn't you.”

He didn't dignify your words with a response. He only continued to grin and hold you with his gaze.

Blood pounded in your ears to the beat of your rabbiting heart. As much as you tried to calm yourself and slow your breathing, you couldn't bring yourself under control. Terror shot through your nerves, your entire body taut like the string of a bow, bracing for Ratchet to crush you under his thumb.

But, he didn't. For too long a moment, he simply looked at you. Drank in the expression of fear on your face, how he had you right where he wanted you, like an organic prey animal in a trap. And, hey, that's basically what you were, right?

And then, the thumb of the servo holding you moved. An involuntary gasp bubbled up from your throat, sounding as desperate and breathless as a final breath. But, not to crush you. It brushed against your cheek, so decisive and purposeful. So gentle and just as potentially deadly.

You met his eyes.

“... You're my human. You know that, right?” He asked.

Your brows furrowed. What the Hell was he talking about? You opened your mouth to argue- but, as if reading your mind, Ratchet tightened his hold on you, silencing you.

“Don't lie to me, or I'll squeeze.”

Your breathing was shallow as you trembled in Ratchet's hold. His stubby digits curled tighter around you. You felt the pressure squeezing against your organs. The air was forced out of you, left coughing and unable to inhale. He simply watched as you spasmed and fought to be able to breathe.

And then he relaxed his hold. You quickly inhaled and exhaled, desperate to get air back into your burning lungs. Your body weak, all you could do was allow yourself to be held up by Ratchet as you recovered in his grip, panting like a dog.

“Now, what do we say?” Ratchet teased.

“I'm yours,” You relented. “I'm yours.”

“Now that's a good human.” Ratchet praised, expression just a touch softer. “And I trust the others won't be hearing about this when they get back. Right?"

[redsrooftopprincess]

Monster

Raphael x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Happy Monsterfucker Pride Month you fucking deviants. 😈 Here's a present.

There are a lot of words that come to mind to the average person upon meeting the Hamato clan. "Thing" is pretty popular, and "Freak" is always a classic, but by far Raphael's least favorite is "Monster."

That one tends to stick around, like a "Hello My Name Is" sticker, even after first meeting. The others have an easier time. Leo's the calm, cool one, Mikey doesn't need any help making friends, and Don's got that cute nerd thing going on, but Raphael is big, quiet, and Close Quarter Combat has left him with more scars than clear skin, making an already ugly situation worse.

So when he was sitting at your desk while you were hanging out one night and a notification popped up on your computer, the word caught his attention.

"What is a... 'Monsterfucker?'"

You're not sure sure if anyone has ever died from asphyxiating Dr. Pepper, but you wonder for a moment if you'll be the first.

When you can once again breathe, you look up at him raising a brow at you, "You good?"

"Yup," you croak out with a nod and a thumbs up, clearing your throat, "good."

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, "So... You gonna answer my question, or...?"

Damn. You were hoping he'd suddenly magically forget that he asked.

You've been holding off on coming clean to the guys about this particular personality quirk. You're conflicted because, while it would do wonders for their self esteem, it would more or less be the equivalent of wearing a big sign around your neck that says "HEY RAPH! I'M INTO YOU!" You're still trying to figure out how to approach him about it, and whether or not doing so would ruin an already amazing friendship.

Apparently, you aren't going to get a choice.

You clear your throat, procrastinating, and looking down at the Halloween coloring book you've been working on so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Well..." You clear your throat again, "... a Teratosexual... or... 'Monsterfucker'... is someone with more... exotic... preferences," you cringe internally.

"Exotic as in...?"

"Exotic as in... non-human." You say, making an attempt at sounding casual, suddenly very focused on the cat you're coloring.

That was not the answer he was expecting.

The longer he's quiet, the louder the heartbeat in your ears.

"So you're... not... into humans." He ventures hesitantly.

"Not generally, no..." You say, still not looking at him. Your face is burning.

"Oh..." He says, sitting back and attempting to process, "So what kind of, uh... monsters, I guess... are you, um..." He can't believe he's actually asking this question.

"Depends," you say, thankfully without your voice squeaking.

"On..."

"On... who they are as a person," you say, "just like anyone."

He's quiet again, and you resist the urge to look up at him. He's running through moment after moment with you in his head. The looks, the touches, the gentle words, all those times he kicked himself for reading too much into things...

You tense as you hear him get up and walk over to your side of the bed. the mattress dips as he sits down beside you, and a hand comes up to still the hand coloring. You look up at him, heart thundering in your ears as his thumb brushes over your wrist.

"Now, I could be way off base," he says softly, "and if I am feel free to tell me and I swear I'll never bring it up again... but sometimes I feel like you and me, we..." He takes a breath, "What are we? Friends? I mean, Donnie's your best friend, but you spend all your time with me, and... um..." He trails off.

"Is that what you want...? Friends...?" You ask, hesitantly. You're talking about it. Everything the two of you have both very purposely avoided talking about. The time, the touches. You're talking about it, making whatever the hell this is real. Which means the next words out of his mouth could either build or break you.

"Honestly, at the risk of possibly ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me... No."

"Honestly," you say, breathless, your heart doing backflips, "me either."

"So... If not friends, then... what do you want?" He asks, holding your gaze.

He watches every one of your reactions closely. Any sign of unease or discomfort and he's going to bail. But there aren't any. He's pulled to you, and he closes what little distance there is, a blush blooms across your cheeks and chest.

"Honestly..." You whisper, "you."

He inhales sharply, and looks down at you in awe for a moment, heart pounding behind his armored chest. Exhaling, he cups your face with his other hand, brushing his thumb over your jaw before sliding it back slightly and tilting your head up to him.

"You sure that this... that I'm... what you want...?" He's vibrating. Everything in him is screaming out to take you. Claim you. You're right here. You're giving yourself to him. Anyone else would have just kissed you by now. But he isn't anyone else, and this isn't exactly a normal situation. He has to be sure.

His soft caress is sending sensations rippling down your arm, and you can barely breathe for the ache in your chest. The night they met, Mikey had been injured. Badly. So badly, that they had to drop in at April and Casey's even knowing there was a stranger there.

He stood in the corner and watched you like a hawk. You were new, and new was dangerous. He watched you jump in to help Donnie with whatever he needed, eyes clear and calculating.

In the moment, you were too focused on making sure D had what he needed to save his brother's life, but the memory set your skin on fire.

"Pretty much since the beginning." You whisper, nodding.

He wastes no more time. You've wanted this as long as he has and that thought sends a surge of heat through his bloodstream. He releases your hand and slides his around your waist, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap, and as flush against him as he can. He's been dreaming of this since the moment you met.

It feels right. Natural. Like you should have been doing this all along, but the moment the hand against your cheek slides into your hair, gripping it gently, and you can feel the rumble in his chest within your own, any whispers of regret are forgotten.

All too soon, he pulls back, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath.

His forehead pressed to yours, you look up at him curiously when he starts laughing softly.

He beams down at you, "You know, on the list of shit I though was gonna happen... ever..." You smile up at him, laughing gently as well. He looks at you with elated, if not confused, eyes, "You got any idea what you're signing up for."

"Pretty sure, yeah," you grin.

They all tried so hard to be human, but it was the hardest for Raphael. Whether it was a result of his mutation, his wildly inconsistent emotional states, or some combination of the two, he was the closest of the four of them to their primal nature.

That night, and the hulking figure in the corner, like some kind of ancient sentinel watching over his charges, was a memory you had come back to so many times you're pretty sure you could recreate it perfectly, not that you would want to.

You pull back slightly to look at him, and bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. You look down at his lips, brushing your thumb over his scar, you've always wondered what it felt like, "... and I think I've been handling it pretty well, so far." Your eyes meets his like the period at the end of a sentence.

Looking at you as if you were the only thing he's ever really wanted, he presses his lips to yours far less tentatively this time, growling into the kiss.

You rest your hand on the back of his head as he kisses down the curve of your throat, nuzzling against it and leaving traces of himself on you. You don't miss the significance of being marked as His and something warm and grateful fills your chest.

He works his way back to your mouth, kissing you deeply before pulling back. He looks down at you, still in almost disbelief.

"I want to see you..." He says, breathless, running a finger just under the hem of your tank top. He looks down before meeting your eyes once again, and you would shudder if you weren't pinned down by his gaze.

You smile, pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You had no idea what you thought his reaction would be to finding out everything, but this was way better than you could have hoped. Gooseflesh scatters across your skin, though you're not sure if it's from the change in temperature, or the way his eyes laser focus on on every inch of you. They light your skin on fire, but he doesn't move.

"You're allowed to touch me, Raphael..." you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours, "I want you to." He inhales sharply, fingers already tingling, he hesitates for just a moment before a calloused hand brushes tentatively over an already hardened nub, making you shiver.

His hand covers your breast and he squeezes gently, the sigh that ghosts from your lips emboldening him.

When he dips his head and captures the other in his mouth, circling with his tongue, the whimper that escapes you as your eyes fall closed is nearly his undoing.

One of your hands rests on the back of his neck, while the other guides his hand lower. As he caresses your waist, his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment and leaving your pulse racing.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, and from the way his churr has deepened, it's evident he can smell your arousal. His fingers play at the waistband of your shorts, but no further.

"This doesn't have to go any farther than your comfortable with," you reassure him.

"It's not that, it's just..." His cheeks darken, "I'm not... um..."

"Human?" You venture, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah..." He says before laughing softly, still not entirely able to process that this is happening, "But, I guess... that's not really a problem for you, is it?"

"Nope," you say, offering him a wicked smile which leaves him swallowing hard.

You smirk and reach up to tug at his paldron. "Feeling a little one-sided here, Red," you say looking over all the clothing and equipment he still has on.

He exhales, a permanent smile of disbelief resting in the corner of his mouth. Him. You want him. You climb off of him, laying back on the bed, and he stands. He sheds his gear and clothing as you look on hungrily, reclined on the bed like a God damn empress. His tail twitches. You aren't just letting him have you, you want him right back, and that is doing amazing things for his ego.

As he's removing the last of his clothing, he glances down at your shorts before meeting your gaze with a brow raised in expectation.

You narrow your eyes and smirk, pushing yourself up and standing beside the bed, before pushing your shorts from your hips and letting them slide to the floor. Now it's your turn to look at him expectantly as he tosses his red mask on top of his gear and takes the few steps towards you.

He looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and if you ask him, you are. With fabric no longer impeding, he is glutting himself on your scent and his head is swimming as it takes everything in him not to drop right there.

Your eyes roam over his body greedily, drinking him in, something you previously could only ever do in secret, and he shivers. You can't help it, you reach up a hand and hesitate for only a moment before placing it on his chest, following the labyrinthine whorls and channels in his plastron. He's cool and hard under your fingertips, and rough in many places where the keratin has been damaged.

"You know what kills me?" You ask softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep scar, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are," you step forward, pressing your lips to the deep groove. You're rewarded with a sharp inhale and the rumble in his chest against your bare skin.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you into him as you kiss upward along the length of the scar. Your softness caresses him, and warmth pours through his shell, filling all the parts of him starved for sunlight. A deep hum reverberates inside of him when you reach the divot in the top of his pectoral scute, and kiss the scarred skin just above.

You look up at him, whispering, "Will you let me show you?"

He looks down at you, and he looks terrified. But he nods. He trusts you.

You take his hand and walk to the end of the bed. You close the door to your room, the light flashing in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

"Sit," you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, leading him to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He does as he's told, and you climb into his lap, also facing the mirror.

You take his large hands in yours and guide him, showing him how you like to be touched. He watches your reactions to every movement closely, and it isn't long before he's confident enough to explore on his own. His fingers trail lightly down your side, following the line of your hip slowly inward. He stills, waiting to see if you're going to stop him from moving forward.

You don't.

He holds your gaze, watching your features change as his fingers slip into your folds. You gasp as he teases you slowly, and it isn't long before you're near trembling.

You're eyes fall closed, and your mouth falls open as one finger finally pushes into your soaked center. You lean back against him, whimpering as his finger curls, brushing against the soft part inside of you, before pulling out and pushing back in. He repeats the action, slowly, and again, slowly. He feels you clench around him, writhing impatiently, and looks up at the mirror.

Flush and trembling in his arms, one hand nearly covers your abdomen, the contrast of your smooth skin and his pebbled scales looking almost intentional, color and texture complimenting each other perfectly. The other continues disappearing inside of you and drawing from you the most exquisitely frustrated sounds. And it's him. He's doing all of it. His oversized, inhuman hands are creating this moment.

There is no other word for it than "beautiful..."

Your lust blown eyes open to meet his as you whimper and twist in his lap. "f-fuck..." he shudders as he drops, gripping you tighter.

The corner of your mouth turns up slightly as you meet his reflection's eyes. Trembling, he angles himself to rub against your sex, coating himself in your slick, pulling a small sound from your throat. You're already so wet and ready, and when you tilt your hips and capture his spade-tipped head, you are very grateful for that.

The burn as you stretch around him is glorious. He's bigger than you were expecting (and you were expecting), and a deep moan is pulled from you as you sink down on him slowly, your eyes falling closed.

You still once he's buried to the hilt, both of you needing a moment to adjust. When you open your eyes, his are still closed. His arms hold you tightly around the waist, and measured, trembling breaths ghost over your shoulder.

He needs a minute. This is new for him and the worst thing he can imagine right now is for this to be over before it starts. You are so soft and warm and tight, and he can feel your heartbeat pulsing in the walls around him, and if he doesn't get some kind of control, he's going to bust right here.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror. His fingers find your clit again, and he strokes it slowly, groaning, his head falling back, when you clench around him.

In an involuntary search for friction, your hips rock against his and he gasps, his other hand tightening around your waist, and he's never been more grateful for years of training in meditation.

He breathes heavily for a few moments, and once he feels like he has his bearings, he holds your gaze and tightens his grip on your hips, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back in. You can feel his churr inside you and you shudder as he sheathes himself again, feeling the vibrations of his desire scatter outward from your center, leaving your fingers and toes tingling.

You move together in a slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He's going to remember every single second of this for the rest of his life. Whatever happens next, this is his. This moment. This feeling. He's wanted a lot of things in his life - peace, acceptance, love -, and for this one shining moment, he has all of them. For this once shining moment, he has you.

This beautiful, brilliant goddess of light and mercy is with him, wants him. You are watching him in the mirror as if he is something sacred. Divine. This broken deformation of something that isn't even a man, held in reverence, and he is filled with something indescribable.

His head falls to your shoulder with a deep moan, as a fire ignites inside of him. Not the one he's used to, there is no burning rage. No barely contained fury. This is not the fire of battle, but the fire of a forge.

Red hot iron burns in his veins as years of doubt and insecurity are boiled away. They didn't matter anymore. Every weird, unacceptable mutated turtle thing he had to deal with. Every scream of horror at his terrible visage. Your light. Your heat, is burning it away. Allowing him to make something new. He leans back, lifting you and bucking up into your harder as that heat fills him, and with every thrust, something in him is reshaping itself.

You could see it in his eyes. That fire of creation. And if you thought he was beautiful before... He holds your gaze with open purpose, unsure but ready for anything, pouring that fire into you. The catalyst of his recreation. And for the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he deserves something good.

And, Gods, you felt SO good.

He's transfixed, his hand reaching around to find your clit again, moaning as his mouth descends to your neck and shoulders. Needing to pull more of those exquisite sounds from you. Every one of them ringing through him like a struck anvil.

A smirk turns his lip as he stands, growling, and you brace against the door as he shows no signs of slowing. His large hand comes to cover yours on the door, wrapping around it. Eyes no longer fixed to the mirror, gaze downward, watching the way you stretch around him as he disappears into you, he can feel his release building as your body flexes around him.

The fire roars under your skin as his speed and strength increases, capturing every sight, sound, and scent, and tossing them back into the flames.

You're beyond language at this point, grunting and whimpering with every thrust. You can feel him in every part of you, until there is nothing left in the world but him and the burn of him filling you completely.

You can feel the pressure building as he growls low and sparks shoot up your spine, his hot breath crashing over your shoulders in waves as he is lost to you. He wraps his arm around you, leaning back and pulling you flush against him as his eyes fall shut.

You are consumed by the flames, arching against him with a cry as white fire streaks through you, the pressure breaks, and you are undone. Raphael follows with a roar, gripping you tightly as he buries himself in you. A second wave crashes over you when you feel him spill himself inside of you, your body milking him dry.

Trembling and breathing hard, you sit back and hold each other as you come down together. You meet his eyes in the mirror, and he's looking at you in reverence and gratitude, like you're his own personal miracle.

Because you are.

He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your shoulder and breathes deep, pulling your scent into his lungs as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Glancing up, he watches himself drip out of you, staining the rug below. You are flush and exhausted, but smiling as your heart rate and breathing slow.

After taking a few moments to clean up. You crawl back into bed together. He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smile up at him, happy, truly, actually happy, for the first time in... ever? That can't be right. It feels right. All you know is you've never been happy like this.

It won't last. It can't. He's too special. And now he knows he has options. "Just think, when you get bored with me, there's a whole community of people that will also find you hot." you chuckle softly. It was only a matter of time, right? You were nothing special.

His smile disappears.

How could you think...

"Y/N, I don't want anybody else." He says softly, sure.

"Raph, you haven't met anybody else." You counter.

"Fuck anybody else. Everybody else. I got it in one, and I ain't about to question that." He presses his forehead to yours.

You smile at him in patient, loving, disbelief. "Okay, Red."

He raises his head to look at you. "Want me to prove it? Fine. Give me a few years, I'll have you convinced."

This gets him a laugh. "Years?" you really like the sound of that.

You grin up at him. You really, really like the sound of that. But moments later, you cringe hard and start giggling, a clear sign that your brain has interrupted with something ridiculous. "Okay okay okay, I'm gonna say it. I have to say it... I've created a monster."

"If I'm lucky," he says. You look into his eyes as he smiles down at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You better be prepared for me not to be able to keep my hands off you," he says with a smirk.

"Y/N..." He groans and covers his face with a pillow while you cackle.

"No wait, see? Now you can't hate that word anymore because it will remind you of sex!" You chirp delightedly.

"You can't possibly be fucking serious right now..." He says, muffled by the pillow.

The next several minutes are spent with you vehemently defending your joke, while, delightfully annoyed, he quietly admits to himself that being a Monster might not be all that bad.

...

Happy Pride Month, my Monster. I love you. ♥️

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[psychesalcove]

you have a mythological beauty, you have the eye of someone i have seen.

♡ percy jackson x fem.reader

sypnosis: (college au) as college students, your days were filled to the brim with classes and work to be done. percy, and you still manage to find time for each other, even if it is just a bath.

tw: bathing together but not sexually, not really any plot I just wrote as I went, mentions of getting burned (from a candle), being naked but again not in a sexual way, percys down bad for reader but who's surprised, not proofread.

a/n: guys whosss back!! again, i apologize for not writing for so long, schools just been kicking my butt, as it always does. i really should be writing a research paper rn, but my wanting to write got way to big to ignore, so here we are!! i missed writing for this blog so much, sorry again for going m.i.a 😓

"hey, you." You muttered lightly as you walked into the living room. your online classes for the day—which meant finally being able to come out of your office you had been cooped up in all day. percy looked no less tired than you; he had a half filled out google doc open on his computer, but it looked like he hadn't made another attempt to write for a while.

his head moved at the sound of your voice, getting broken out of whatever trance he was in. "hey yourself," he hummed, hands moving from the keyboard to your arms where he started rubbing up and down. "how was your day?"

you sighed slightly, relishing in the feeling of percys hands on your arms. "same shit as always. our class got a new project, but she hasn't given out our groups yet."

percy winced, his arms coming to a stop so you could rest your hands on his. "im sorry, pretty. hopefully, you'll get a good group," he said, hand leaving its place on your arm to close his laptop. "i don't think thats gonna get done anytime soon," he stated, more to himself than to you.

you tilted your head slightly at that, but percy already responded to the question brewing in your head. "it's not due for another three-ish weeks. I'll get it done before then, promise," he laughed as you smiled at him.

"well," you started. "since it seems both of us are done with work for today, how do you feel about a bath?" you asked, watching percys face light up at the suggestion. you smiled at him again. "you can go start it and i'll make tea for us—i got camomile the other day at the store," you pulled away from percy and headed to the kitchen as you heard his footsteps fade into your bedroom.

—

no sooner had the water started boling on the kettle did you hear the sound of water running from the bathroom. taking a bath together had become something both of you enjoyed doing; it allowed for your minds to process all that had happened throughout the day while enjoying eachothers company at the same time.

you quickly grabbed the two mugs from the counter that now held hot camomile tea and started your walk to the bathroom.

—

percy was sitting on the toilet seat when you walked in, lighter in hand. you raised an eyebrow at him. "what are you doing?" you giggled, setting down the mugs on the counter.

"im trying to light the candle without buring my skin off, thank you very much," he said as he rolled his eyes playfully at you, gesturing aimlessly with the lighter, trying to prove his point.

"here," you hummed, grabbing the candle and lighter from him. percy could usually light candles for the first couple times, but if the wick gets to short for his liking, he ended up burning himself.

"i used the lavender bubble bath, i hope that's okay," he said, grabbing the now lit up candle from you so he could put it on the edge of the tub. you smiled at him, signaling that the lavender sent was fine.

percy stepped into the tub, and it was then that you noticed he had already taken his clothes off. he looked at you expectedly. "you gonna come in?" he prompted, raising his arm out of the water—showing off the bubbles that were already all over him.

"my gods, be patient perce," you joked, already removing your sweatpants and top. "you were in here for longer than me, and be grateful i made you tea," you said as he simply laughed in response. you quickly found yourself in the warmth of the water, now sitting facing percy.

"hi," he giggled, showing you his teeth.

"hi." you replied. the bathroom was casted in a warm glow from the vanilla candle lit, and the light sounds of water rippling only added to the blanket of solace that the bathroom was encased in.

"what are you doing over there still?" he asked, moving his arms under the water so that they now rested on your hips. "i wanna be closer to you," he said in a semi-whiny voice, hands slightly tightening their hold on you.

you giggled and pointed at his face. "i'll cuddle you—if you get the fake mustache off," you said, refering to the bubbles that were on his face; you didn't think he even realized it was there. before he could respond, you moved your hand to softly wipe away the suds of his face, his smile greeting you as you removed your hand.

you sighed and smiled back, moving your body so that you were now in between his legs, your back on his chest and head resting just below his chin. "happy now?" you giggled, feeling his hands come to rest on your stomach.

"very," he sighed, his nose coming down to rest on your head. "i didn't ask earlier," he mumbled into your head before realizing you probably couldn't make out what he was saying. "do you think we could go to that new flower shop this weekend?"

you hummed. "the one on the same street as that good pizza place?" you asked, your hands going to his arms to rub them soothingly; repeating the motion he was doing to you earlier.

"yeah, that one." he mused. "i wanna get mom and you flowers, there were pretty hibiscus flowers i saw," he countined, his thumbs moving in slow circles on your stomach.

you giggled again and moved your head to press a light kiss to his upper arm. "you just got both of us flowers, perce."

you felt him shrug his shoulders behind you. "maybe, but the two prettiest girls always need new flowers," he said so simply, as if he didn't just say the most precious thing you've ever heard.

"oh, and i put your favorite towels in the dryer so i'll go and get them before you get out,"

if your heart didn't explode from the previous statement, than this one most definitely did. you fully turned your body so you were facing him, and then you gently pressed your lips to his.

you pulled back, putting a hand to his chest as he tried to chase your lips. "percy jackson, the man you are," you stated. he simply grinned at you, looking into your eyes with nothing but love and devotion to you.

[blackberries45]

Until You Tell Me

Beetlejuice x reader (no pn used)

Fluffy short one shot

As always, grammar and spelling ain't my thing

Notes: I honestly had a slightly heavier theme here but changed it. You can insert anything that is currently bumming you out. I’m sending you a big hug!!

Warnings: just general unrest and needing comfort

*****

The alarm went off as usual. Stretching, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of your bed. Ugh. The thoughts from the night before flooded back. You could feel the crust on your cheeks from the tears. Your throat burned as well. Although a sunny morning was starting to take light outside, it felt like a cloud had just formed above you. Uh oh. Here they come again.

You held yourself tightly as you rocked back and forth crying. You didn't know how you even had more tears left. A solid minute went by and the headache that had been dulled by sleep was now back in full force.

As you lifted your hand to wipe your face during a moment of rest, you saw him flicker in the corner through your desk. Beej did that little flicker thing when he wanted you to call for him.

"What do you want? I'm not in the mood" you held yourself again as you stared in the corner. It took half a second before he was standing right in front of you. Normally you'd scream from his sudden full body apparition. Today you didn't have it in you.

Realizing he wasn't going to get a reaction he slowly sauntered back over to the corner he had been flickering in. Turning to lean back against your corner desk, he crossed his black boots in front of himself as he leaned against the top. "Now what would a delicate little flower like yourself have to cry so hard and so loud over that a dead guy can hear ya and have to come runnin'?"

"No one asked you to come running." You turned your head slowly towards him and glared.

"Yikes! Spill your guts babe or I'll spill mine" he tilted his head down so he could look at you through his lashes and raised an eyebrow.

You turned away from him. "I just want...I'm just... I'm unhappy. And I can't shake it. And everyone tells me it's going to get better and I wake up and nothing has changed. I feel the same way I did the day before. I’m so sick and tired of crying but it seems to be all I'm capable of doing right now.”

“But what is it?” his voice had slightly smoothed out. It's what you guessed he sounded more like when he was still breathing. It happened now and then when he was being genuine.

You couldn’t look at him now though, no matter how soft he was trying to be. You simply shook your head slowly side to side.

In a flash you felt the bed move. Before you could think about where he was, a pair of hands were pulling you backwards and wrapping around you, just under your chest. The "eek" you squeaked out only encouraged a throaty chuckle from him.

"Now here's what's gonna happen babe. We are going to lay here until you open up and tell me how to help you get over whatever this is”

"Beej, I don't have time for this! I..."

"No, you don't have time to keep torturing yourself. You breathers only have so long. You can be in hell when you're dead if you'd like. I'll take you"

With a snap of his long fingers, your computer screen came to life with his favorite movie.

"Oh no!" You whined and bumped your head back against his chest "This movie scares me!"

"Better for me then" he squeezed you back against him again. "Just let me know if you need to be distracted during a scary part" a not so subtle thump hit the small of your back. Before you could wiggle away, he calmed you down again. "Now now, let's not get feisty babe. I'm just playing with you. But you gotta say who's the ghost with the most so I can stay. "

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked, saying his name three times while fixing your pillow. You decided you had to give him a small bit of attitude now that you were feeling a little better. "I swear to God if anything crawls on me you'll regret being this close to me" you put your arms across his, nestling in again with your back against his chest.

"Noted" you felt his smile as he kissed the back of your head.

“Thank you” without almost any sound left your lips. Beetlejuice just gently squeezed you again in response.

[into-f0lkl0re]

Paige bueckers x reader

warnings: nsfw and my horrendous spelling and grammar inaccuracies (my ap lang teacher would be so disappointed)

not spell checked (i typed this whole thing on my phone( yes i have a computer) )

i hope yall like it

~I don’t got a single problem with provocative~

she had on a mini black skirt with ripped shear tights and doc martins

a yellow lacy tube top with stars in orange and red thread embroidered through out the top little tattoos littered her arms. an outline of a moon on her shoulder. A bow on her upper left arm, a bouquet of flowers above her elbow on her right. tiny stars coated both of her forearms. she was perfect.

~See the bodies, how they burn, it’s just the way it is~

A couple of minutes ago paige was trying to come up with some sort of excuse to tell her teammates why she had to leave this random club but then she spotted her. dancing with who paige assumed were her friends. one hand held a clear plastic cup with translucent light green liquid with a salted rim. paige felt her cheeks heat up. was it always this hot in here? paige forgot why she wanted to leave in the first place.

~ Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing Under pink light in June. I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden You saw me look at you~

The room was filled with intoxicated college students trying to have a night off from the stress of their lives. today had been the last day of finals. school was officially out for the summer. everyone presumably celebrating.

“you’re staring” a voice whispered in paige’s ear

paige jumped almost spilling her drink

nika laughed patting paige’s back

“you’ve been staring at that poor girl for almost 8 minutes”

“is it that obvious?”

“yes extremely” a new voice replies

paige looks down and sees kk laughing with ice

“keep looking at her with that face and your eyes are gonna get stuck like that”

“fuck off”

“oh shit, paige she’s looking at you”

Nika elbows paige’s side.

paige turns and makes eye contact with the golden girl herself

~I burn for you and you don’t even know my name. If you’d asked me to i’d give up everything~

Paige felt her chest contract as the girl leaves the dance floor walking past paige and making her way to the bar while briefly making eye contact again and smiling. once the girl was at the bar she looked back at paige and laughed.

“stop standing there gaping like a god damn fish and go over there dumb ass” ice pushed paige towards the bar

~To be close to you pull the trigger on the gun i have you when we met~

“i’m paige” she almost shouts because of the deafening volume of the music

“i know who you are. Im pretty sure everyone at uconn knows who you are” y/n laughs

“can i buy you a drink?”

“ you don’t even know my name and you’re trying to buy me a drink? you move fast”

“ well what’s your name?”

“y/n and i like dirty shirley’s”

~I wanna be close to you. break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight just let me be close to you~

“so what’s your major?”

“art history”

“oh what do you wanna do with that”

“i have no fucking clue”

paige laughs leaning her head against the bar holding her chest

“ok what about you? what’s your major?”

“uhm-human development and family sciences”

“ wow that sounds important. what do you want to do with that?”

paige lets out another laugh than sighs

“uh hopefully nothing i really wanna go pro”

“hey uh listen do you wanna maybe get out of here?”

“you read my mind”

~And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying~

barely making it through the threshold of paige’s apartment before her lips are on y/ns. tugging on her small tube top for dear life. paige blindly moves them towards her bedroom. they hit a couple walls on the way to their final destination. paige pushes her down on the bed before climbing over y/ns body and reconnecting their lips groaning into her mouth.

~You should be mine for life, I'll be signing

Every dotted line

Chemical override, ultraviolet

You could be mine tonight~

clothes long forgotten. two bodies grasping at each other letting out high pitched sighs and moans. paige’s hands are everywhere. groping her chest, paige slowly makes her way down y/ns body leaving a trail of love bites. taking her sweet time teasing, nipping and kissing at y/ns thighs.

“paige” y/n exhales

“say my name again” paige says again before sucking on her clit

“oh-god paige-please don’t stop”

“don’t worry ma i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

~ and i burn for you and you don’t even know my name

if you asked me to id give up everything to be close to you

break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight

just let me be~

this was not a request i just thought this would be fun because i have been listening to secret of us on repeat for the past 48 hours

i’m working on an actual request a kk arnold x reader fic which i’m excited for. that should be out soon. i also wanna do a kate martin fic inspired by risk. send requests my way and ideas🙏

big forehead kisses 💕

-faye

[multiwreckedmess]

Helloooo. Badboy!Yunho ??👀

yesssssss what about himmmm? you raaaaang? i'm always down for Badboy!yunho but he has many FLAVORS 👀

actually oh my god idea. badboy!yunho x nerd!reader no sex just build up but AHHHHHHHHHHHHhhahhahahaaha thoughts THOUGHTS no warnings ain't nothing here.

badboy!yunho is kind of the worst group project partner. He watches you tapping away at your laptop muttering under your breath with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. It's not the grin that's infuriating, at least one of you is having a good time, it's the fact that he's only brought his cellphone with him to his make up meeting.

You see, you'd normally just do the project alone, holed up in your dorm, but at least a portion of the final grade is based on four mandatory group meetings throughout the semester. Unfortunately Yunho had been "sick" (read: hungover) for the meeting the past Sunday and you had agreed to meet up again for extra credit.

"Have any plans tonight?"

"I suppose you're going to ask if you can leave to go pre-game with your frat bros." You don't even bother to look up from the google doc, not yet even opened by him.

"That's what you think of me?"

"Am I wrong?"

The chair creeks as he leans away from you without answering. Phone laying neglected on the table, he isn't even pretending to work. Not that he did much on the phone besides scroll on Instagram with his volume up.

"I'm sorry but I don't see the point of us meeting if you aren't going to at least contribute something. I can't imagine that your phone is your only device available," you finally scoff, patience waning thin. The space feels more like an interrogation chamber than a study nook. Frankly the oppositional stance he'd taken across from you did not help with the tension, his eyes always tracing you.

"Is my charming smile not enough of a benefit?" He flashes a winning grin at you.

"No."

"What if we fucked? Would that be considered contributing?"

"My sex life is fine, thanks." Embarrassment burns in your cheeks as you try to hold the guise of studying. The cursor blinking hopefully on the long forgotten running bibliography tab.

Yunho sees his opening. Your head ducking deeper into the laptop screen without any sounds of typing is a dead giveaway. Getting up he circles the table to stand just over your shoulder, leaning in as though he was genuinely interested in the work you were doing. "That's not what I asked."

You lamely toggle the open windows on your screen, pretending not to hear him. Despite his hushed volume, his face was close enough to yours to feel the warmth of his skin radiating.

"I wanted to know, by your definition, if we fucked if that would count as participation in the project. We're going to fuck anyway, I just want to know if I'll get credit."

Goosebumps bloom down your shoulders all the way to buzz at your fingertips. Sitting in a stunned silent, almost out of body experience, you watch as Yunho rubs your forearm gently.

"Are you cold?" He asks a little too loudly before leaning over to loosely hold you in a back hug. "Or are you just excited at the thought?"

Maybe you are a little cold. His body heat feels nice to have so close to you. He's like a big electric blanket velcro'd to you and you can't help but start to enjoy the way your shoulders fit nicely between his. "No. Yunho, I need you to focus. I need to focus."

He promptly withdraws to your side, perched over the computer still but in his own bubble. Dragging a chair to your side he watches as you type, tabbing between windows and fleshing out the outline. Slowly his head weighs his arm down and he ends up nearly laying across the table, looking up at you instead of the screen. "If I focus, will you go out with me tonight?"

"Sure." You answer curtly. Then his question hits you in the back of the head like a stack of bricks. "No, wait, what?"

His eyes a brighten. "No take backsies, you said-"

"Are you joking?" Anger and embarrassment bubbles inside of you.

"I'm yours for now but you're mine tonight."

[plussizefantasia]

Trust Issues

Bucky x BlackCat!reader

Chapter 2/6 of the BlackCat!reader story that I had a request for!

<Prev / Next>

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, Bucky and Reader being kinda mean to each other.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.” It didn’t occur to you to ask the front desk woman if there would be two beds, after all, you and Bucky were supposed to be playing a couple this weekend and couples didn’t need two beds. “Well buck up, Buckaroo, looks like we're sharing for the weekend."

“I’m not sharing a bed with you, you kick in your sleep and snore like a buzzsaw.”

“You’re a filthy liar Barnes, I do not snore.”

“No comment on the kicking?” He raises an eyebrow at you. You just roll your eyes and push further into the room. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the ground. So you can either be a chivalrous manbaby and curl up in that tiny-ass armchair or be a grown-ass man and split the bed with me. Your choice.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath, in a language that you don’t speak but hearing it admittedly sends a shiver running down your spine. You don’t really have time to stay and talk him out of his funk. The two of you are only here for the three nights and the last night was the gala so any and all recon needs to be done before then. 

Of course, the team of low-ranking agents who just want to do their fucking part to save the world or some bs like that have already put together a file of information for you. You’ve been burned before though and like to take care of yourself more often than not.

So you inwardly thank Tony Stark for the nice digs and head to the bathroom to get changed into your suit. 

You want to scope out the event space tonight as well as the governor's office the only problem was that the two buildings were practically on opposite sides of the city and you’ll have to take pretty much the whole night in order to get what you need. 

That means despite the fact that you are ridiculously tired from being in the car all day you’ll have to dawn your fur-lined catsuit right away and book it to the State Capital building before the last of the over-caffeinated halfway to burnt-out political interns leave for the night and your usual slip-in-behind-someone-who-isn’t-paying-attention entrance will fall off the table.

You pretend that you don’t see Bucky’s eyes bulge when you walk out of the bathroom in your full get-up, but you feel flattered nevertheless. There’s something to be said about the way donning your suit makes you feel, when you have the mask on and the suit zipped all the way up you feel invincible, powerful, badass, and let’s not kid anyone, sexy as hell.

The way Bucky can’t keep his eyes off you as you move about the room gathering the things you’ll need for your night of recon makes you think that he’s on the same page as you about that last one. But that’s all it is, you remind yourself. You’ve got good assets and when they’re tightly wrapped in a nice little bow they look alright, Barnes doesn’t like you he’s a man… he likes tits and ass. They all do. 

“I’m heading downtown, need to scope out entrances and exits and see if there’s anything in the governor's office that could help us bring him down.”

“I’ll come with.” Bucky moves to grab the bulletproof leather jacket that Steve had gotten him for Christmas this past year.

“Thanks but no thanks Barnes, I’m perfectly capable of doing recon on my own. Besides, you’re not exactly what I would call… stealthy.”

“I’m stealthy as fuck kitty.”

“Don’t call me kitty, and whatever you need to tell yourself, old man. I'll be back. Treat yourself to room service or something, I heard brooding makes you hungry.”

“I don’t brood.”

“And I don’t snore. See, we can both lie.”

Your night is uneventful. The only thing catching your eye is how suspiciously squeaky clean the governor's computer is. You don’t find much that can help you in your mission. The ballroom is a bust too although you do manage to come up with several escape routes should things go sideways the night of the gala. You end up rolling back into the hotel room at around three-thirty in the morning. Not expecting Bucky to still be awake you try your best to make as little noise as possible so that you don’t wake him.

It ends up not being necessary as he is already awake, lounging in the armchair nursing a glass of whisky, and staring at the door you've just come through.

“Don’t tell me you waited up for me? That’s so sweet Barnes.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to tell Fury that his favorite pet got in some trouble.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Barnes, I am not Fury’s pet any more than you're Steve’s.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He scoffs and takes another sip of his drink.

“Well, you’re off the hook I guess I’m back safe and sound so you can finally go about getting some much-needed beauty sleep.”

“You really can’t take anything seriously, can you? I’ve been waiting here for hours because you left without letting me in on your little plan.” Bucky stands up and places his glass on the side table next to him. You have no idea where the hell this anger he has is coming from but you’ll be damned if you let him talk to you like this. “We’re supposed to be doing this mission together and the first moments you’re left to your own devices you run off and risk yourself unnecessarily.” He's getting heated and it's rubbing off on you.

“What the hell is your problem James?  I didn’t ask you to wait for me! You’ve been a bit of an ass all day and I’m really fucking tired of it. I’m here to do my fucking job, are you?” Hindsight is a bitch though and you realize after you say the words to him that poking the bear is probably not your best option at the moment, nevertheless, you’re a glutton for punishment so you dig in even more. “I mean first you get all moody in the car because of some shit you brought up in the first place, then you stay up waiting for me like you’re my dad or some shit making sure I get home safe. I know that you don’t like me, I get it and if I’m completely honest I don’t really like you either. No matter what you think or want though, we have a mission to complete and I’ll be damned if I let some metal-armed brute fuck up my perfect completion record.” You don’t really remember taking breaths but obviously, you have or you’d be passed out after that long ass speech. 

It doesn’t get you the reaction you want though, instead, Bucky just clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and lets out some long-suffering sigh like you’re the bane of his existence or some shit. You let him throw his grown-man tantrum and don’t move to stop him from huffing and puffing around the room until he goes to lie down on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you ask, every syllable dripping with exasperation.

“Sleeping, what does it look like?”

“Yeah, I can see that your trying to sleep like a caveman on the cold hard ground what I don’t understand is why, given the big ass bed right here.” You carelessly lift one hand and gesture towards the California King bed with admittedly really comfy-looking sheets spread across it. 

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you Kitty, I thought I had told you that.” He practically snarls.

“I thought you were kidding. What? Afraid you’ll get cooties or something?” 

“I’m not sharing a bed with you Y/N. Drop it.”

“Fine. You know what? Fucking be like that.” You grab a pillow off the bed and throw it down at him. Before grabbing one for yourself and taking up position on the floor a few feet away from him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Funny, I thought I just asked you that.” You reply laying down on the ground with your back towards him.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor Y/N it’ll mess up your back.” `“Well then I guess you have a choice to make. Either you get over yourself and we both get to share the nice bed, I’ll even put up a pillow wall to protect your dignity if you’re that worried about it.  Or we both sleep on the floor and I wake up tomorrow morning as grumpy as you because my back hurts.” You let the silence reign for a few seconds after you're done, still facing away from him and waiting for him to make the decision.

“God you’re so annoying you know that?” Bucky groans out as he moves to sit up and make his way towards the bed.

“I’ve been told it’s one of my best qualities.” You stick your tongue out at him and follow him to the bed. You follow through with your promise of a pillow wall placing three pillows length-wise between the two of you. Afterward, you turn around and turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. 

You wait for a few minutes thoughts racing endlessly in your mind. “Bucky?” You call out.

“What?” he mumbles back.

“Will you tell me a bedtime story?” You ask.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?

“Go the fuck to sleep.” You do.

_________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed, but an intact pillow wall so deem the night a success. Rolling over to check the bedside clock you see that it’s about seven and groan at the fact that Bucky’s absence apparently woke you up an hour before you had planned.

Bucky’s absence doesn’t last long, however, as minutes later he comes strolling into the room. He’s wearing a simple grey tee shirt and some black sweatpants but the entire front of his shirt is soaked making the grey a darker shade than it was originally. Similarly, his hair is dripping wet and you honestly can’t tell if he’s taken a shower yet or if he's just soaked with sweat. What confuses you more is that you don’t know which you’d prefer.

“Morning Sarge.” You call out from your place in bed. Bucky jumps a little like he forgot that you’d be in the room. 

“Morning.” He mumbled before making a swift turn and essentially hiding away in the ensuite bathroom. When you hear the shower turn on you know he's still in a mood from last night. You swear to whatever god there might be that this man is going to be the death of you. 

“I’m calling room service for breakfast do you want anything?” You shout at the bathroom door.

“Eggs and toast.” He calls back. You roll your eyes at his basic order but relent anyway and pick up the phone to call for the food. 

His shower finishes right about the same time that the food arrives. When he walks out of the bathroom in just a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one in his hand ruffling his hair to dry it you about choke on the food you hadn’t even started eating yet.

“Your foods over there.” You point to the little sitting area on the opposite side of the room from you. You're sitting crisscross across the ottoman at the foot of the bed. A plate of stuffed French toast with a side of sliced peaches perched on your lap.

“I figure that we should probably talk about the plan for the rest of the weekend, to avoid any more… angst between us.” You speak between bites of your breakfast.

“I thought we already had a plan but apparently that doesn’t mean much to you does it.” He turns his body to face you and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not starting the morning off like this, James. You can either talk to me like an adult or you can sulk in the corner it’s your choice.” 

“I don’t sulk.”

“For a guy who doesn’t sulk or brood you sure spend a lot of time doing both.”

“I just- I don’t know why you always have to be putting yourself at risk.” You aren’t prepared for the tone shift of the conversation.

“I’m an adult Bucky, I can make those kinds of choices for myself.”

“I know you can, I just don’t see why you feel the need to.”

“What do you mean?” You can physically feel yourself start to get defensive. 

“I mean that for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always gone the extra mile, covered every base that needs to be covered and even some that don’t. You push yourself to the point of exhaustion and you don’t seem to care. You do the job of ten people when you don’t need to and it makes me tired just watching you.”

“I-”

“I wasn’t finished. Take last night for example. You went out and re-did recon that our team already did for us because you didn’t trust that they had done enough and what did you find? Nothing. Nothing that you didn’t already know from reading the mission file.”

“When did this become a fucking therapy session? I don’t recall giving you my insurance information Dr. Barnes and I’m not sure I can pay your hourly rate.” You try to deflect. He's right, you didn’t find anything new and you’d been a little pissed at yourself because of it, but you don’t need that shoved back into your face.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Push away your real feelings with jokes, Peter and Tony do the same thing and it drives me up the wall.” He stares at you.

“I don’t know what you want from me Bucky. I don’t know who you want me to be, you call me a kiss-ass when I try too hard, but you’ve been pretty clear on the fact that you don’t think I can be redeemed. You seem to care about me and yet give me shit about anything and everything that I do. I don’t know what to think or feel around you and it throws me off.”

“I do care about you.” 

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything. You and Bucky sit in silence for what could’ve been seconds minutes or hours. Neither one of you is willing to be the one who breaks the spell that has settled over the room. Both of you are saved by the bell when Bucky’s phone rings on the desk in front of him.

“It’s Steve, I’ll be right back.” He gets up and moves to take the call out in the hallway. You still don’t say anything. But you do flop onto your stomach across the bed the moment the door closes behind him. 

You grab the nearest pillow to your outstretched hand and bring it to your face, screaming into it and letting out as many muffled curse words as you can before you run out of air. When you’re done throwing your mini tantrum you stand up, run a hand through your hair, and take in the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in. 

It seems that Bucky’s call with Steve is going to go longer than you thought so you might as well get ready for the day. You put on the flowing wide-leg pants and halter tank that you packed, it gives just the right amount of classy that goes along with your cover in case you needed to interact with anyone, while still being easy to move in and pretty damn comfortable to boot.

You return to your perch at the foot of the bed, this time with the mission files in your hands. Despite how many times you’ve poured over them you still want to make sure that you’re ready for the gala tomorrow night. The best use of your time right now is trying to figure out the best way to get close to the Governor at the party.

Since his computer had been a bust the best way to get him was going to be a verbal confession to some of his backroom dealings. Maybe with more time, you’d be able to pull together a bit more of a sting operation and pull out all the stops trying to catch him but you were on a time crunch. The gala is tomorrow and then after that the governor starts his reelection campaign.

Bucky walks back into the room and throws his phone on the bed next to you, “Steve said the analysts back home got word that there’s a new player to be aware of tomorrow. The Governor's son is gonna be there, he's been flouncing across Europe for the better part of the last five years and we’re not exactly sure why he’s back but we know it’s important. Think you can handle it?”

“Did you actually just use the word ‘flounce’ in a sentence.”

“Can you handle it or not.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Barnes, I got this.”

“I don’t doubt it, Kitty, in the meantime though maybe we should do some asking around to see what we can get on the kid.”

“Honestly, James I’m a little hurt that you think I’m that far behind you. Besides, I know exactly where to look to get the answers I’ll need.”

“And where is that exactly?” Bucky looks at you and raises an eyebrow. 

“His Instagram.” Snapchat, Twitter, and any and all other social media you can get your hands on. You know rich kids better than any other group of people in the world, they’re incredibly naive most of the time and some of the easiest targets because they’re sharing their entire lives with the world. If there's something to know about this guy, you’ll find it on his socials. 

You and Bucky spend the rest of the day and well into the night, doing your research. At some point, you’d been given access to the full guest list which allowed you to add some names to your internet stalking session. By two in the morning, you can confidently say that you know this guy and several of the other guests who would be attending better than they knew themselves. 

“Alright doll, it’s time for sleep.” Bucky grabs your laptop and closes the lid before taking it off your lap completely and plugging it in for you.

“What? I was just getting in the groove! I found another rabbit hole.”

“I don't know what that means but I know that it’s late and we have to be on our best game tomorrow so sleep it is.”

“You can sleep, but I need to keep working,” Bucky calls your name.

“This is the type of stuff I’m talking about, working yourself to death. Trust in the work you did today, trust that you’ve got everything you need. I do.”

You will never admit to the way that your heart thumps when you realize just how much faith Bucky has in you. 

“I’ve made that mistake before, trusting myself and trusting others, it never goes well for me.”

“Well then, work yourself to death and be sloppy and tired tomorrow if you want, but do it over there with just a desk lamp because I’m going to bed.”

“Fine. I will.” Stubbornly, you pick up the notebooks and files that surround you and move them all to the too-small desk in the corner of the room. You flick the lamp light on and groan at the dimness of the bulb. Bucky’s words bounce around your skull, you wouldn’t be sloppy. You were never sloppy. Sloppy meant getting hurt or worse. You couldn’t be sloppy.

Fuck. You couldn’t be sloppy, especially with Bucky’s life on the line too. 

You growl low in your throat as you flick the lamp off and begin getting ready for bed, pretending not to hear the triumphant snort that comes from the lump on the bed.

“Scoot over, you fucking starfish, leave some room for me.” You shove at Bucky’s back, nothing happens of course but he takes pity on you and scooches over anyway. “Do I need to construct another pillow wall Your Highness or do you think you’ll be okay for one more night?”

“I think I’ll survive. But know that if you kick me in the middle of the night I reserve the right to shove your ass onto the floor.” 

“Noted.”

[dazed--xx]

SKZ Break-Up Reaction (Hyung Line)

A/N: just decided to do a reaction there will be a another version for the rest of the members soon just a small thing to hold you guys over hope you enjoy. I can’t seem to do the keep reading link so I’ll fix it when I get to my computer so sorry about that

Chan:

You stare at your lock screen, NO NEW MESSAGES, it reads. You should have expected as much. Chan never responded anymore. You look at the time 2:36 a.m. the small clock reads, the wallpaper photo laughing at your loneliness as you stare at the smile plastered on Chan’s face on the screen. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually heard from him, a month ago? Maybe two? You weren't sure, only thing you knew was your phone was filled with unanswered calls and ignored messages on his part. You stare around the room, now void of all of your things. Your bags packed away in your trunk. You don’t know why you’ve stayed that way for the past two days. Your life packed up and ready to be started somewhere else. But something kept holding you back.  

Maybe it was your need to see him one more time before you left. Maybe it was your hope for him to beg you to stay, but he’d have to come home to even know what's going on. You knew he didn’t even read your message to come home and talk yet, here you were alone. You bit your lip, maybe it was hopeless, waiting for him to come home; still here you sat on what was now his bed, in his home waiting for him to come back so you can inform him of your departure. Your heart sank as a small ping rings through the air.  

NEW MESSAGE: CHAN ❤️ 

I'm sorry, I'll come home tomorrow night. I miss you so fucking much  

You felt the tears run down your face. Opting to ignore his message, you sob to yourself. It was always the same thing and tomorrow never came for the past month that was always the only thing you heard. You were tired of waiting for tomorrow night, you were tired of waiting for him. So, with a heavy heart you lift yourself from the bed. Taking one last look at the memory of you two, you make your way to the door. Your hands are shaky as you grab your purse. Pulling your keys, you take the house key off placing it on the key ring on the wall. You grab your jacket; something reflects off the light. You stared at your right hand, there it sat, the last thing that would tie you to him. Your promise ring, your heart cracks as you fiddle with the object, circling it around your finger a few times before taking it off and placing it on the wooden shoe rack next to the door. You give one last look at your former apartment before making your way to your car and driving away with tears in your eyes.

Chan felt his heart soar as he finally parked in the driveway.  He felt like he was going to cry as he pulled himself out of the car, he needed to see you. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had drowned in your presence. He needed to feel you in his arms whilst he finally lay in his bed and get some much-needed sleep. He let out a heavy sigh as he unlocked the door, placing his keys on the ring, he noticed a single key. His eyes scrunch in confusion as he takes his shoes off, something catches his eye shimmering under the light. His heart drops as he recognizes the ring that once adorned your finger. Only then does he notice your presence is gone. Your blanket that once lay on the couch with your books on the coffee table completely missing. His eyes flash toward the bedroom “Babe?!” He called as he took slow hesitant steps toward the door “please….” His eyes watered his breath was trapped in his throat “….be here” he begged to himself. With heavy breath he opens the door, the bed is made, little reminders of you completely erased. He rushed into the room pulling out the drawers that once contained your clothes “No…” he cried as he stumbled back toward the bed. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. Immediately dialing your number as tears burned his eyes. “Answer…. Please…answer” he begs into the phone his heart cracks as he’s greeted by your voicemail. “No....fuck please...” 

To: Y/N 💕 

  Where are you?  

Please just answer my calls 

I’m sorry whatever I did whatever. happened please just tell me  

Come home please come home  

I’m sorry fuck answer please don’t do this to me I love you  

I love you so much I’m sorry I’m sorry please I’m home now please come back I won’t leave again I can be here with you now please answer me  

I need to hear your voice I need to know you’re okay come home to me please I’m sorry without you im nothing  

     Seen at 11:32 pm

Minho-

” Why can’t you just get out of my way for fucking once!” Minho exclaimed. You rolled your eyes as you silently fumed. You couldn’t possibly see how it was your fault as he had run into you, you let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry…” you pout, taking slow timid steps toward him “D-do you work today?” You ask timidly, placing your hand on his shoulder softly only for your hand to be shoved off, he nods in response not looking at you. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks as you bite your lip softly, “C-can we d-do something if you don’t get out too late? I miss you” you ponder, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind “Why are you always up my ass like honestly Y/N, can you ever just stop being so damn clingy?! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE” He states as he pulls your arms from around him and stomps his way toward your bedroom. 

You nod with tears in your eyes as you make your way toward the bathroom you could feel his eyes on you as you closed the door behind you. Locking it, you feel your breath is shaky. You were used to it. He continuously reminded you of how much you were a burden on his life. You could remember the days he begged you not to leave his arms in the early mornings before his practices. You don’t know what had changed, he was always a little standoffish, but he was never this blatantly cold and mean. Your heart sang praises as you entered the shower. The warm water kisses your skin. You could hear the front door slam closed signifying Minho’s departure. You sigh to yourself as you pull yourself out of the shower and into your shared bedroom. You had a few hours to give Minho what he wanted. You pull your clothes on and begin packing your things. If Minho wanted to be left alone then you would give that to him. Your presence seemed to ruin his mood every day and you couldn’t make him happy anymore.  

You were grateful that you had finished packing the few things you had brought into the relationship only a couple hours later. You were trying to do everything quickly before Minho came home so you could avoid the tears that would fall from your eyes at the satisfied look on his face at your departure.  Hearing a low honk from outside, you let out a heavy sigh as you pick up one of the bags. You make your way to the taxi you had called. Placing bag after bag into the trunk. “I'm sorry I think there's just one more” You apologize to the driver who sits in annoyance at your lack of speed. Rushing back through the door you take one final look around, checking for anything you could have missed. Your eyes land on the picture placed on the side of the bed. You and Minho, with a big smile on your faces, caked decorating Minho’s lips and cheeks whilst his members squeezed you two together in attempts to get in the photo. A sad smile is held on your lips at the memory, your heart cracks as you stare at Minho’s smile.  

A look you haven't seen for a long time, you wished you could go back to that time and cherish every bit of happiness he showed you. The taxi driver honking pulls you out of your thoughts. Placing the photo back on the nightstand, you take your final trip out the door with the last bag. Opening the back passenger door, you place the bag on the seat behind the driver before you feel a hand encasing your wrist. You jump in shock as you turn to face the culprit, you're met with a wide-eyed Minho. His mouth hung open; eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “W-what’s going on? W-where are you going?” He stammered. Your eyes drift to the ground as you shuffle on back and forth on your feet “I'm sorry, I thought I would be gone before you got back, I'm going now though” your bottom lip, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Goodbye Minho” you whispered as you pull your wrist from his grip and close the door telling the driver your parents address. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you drove away.  

Minho stood in shock not comprehending your words as he stared at your crying figure in the vehicle. So many questions circled around in his head. Why had you left? Where were you going? Why hadn't you told him you had planned a trip somewhere? Why did you want to leave before he got back? Did you take him seriously earlier? His heart clenched at that one, you didn’t---you couldn’t have. You know he didn’t mean it; you must know he didn’t mean it. He loves you, fuck he loves you he doesn’t want you to leave him alone, if anything it was the opposite. He was the clingy one, he needed you around him all the time to even be able to get out of bed and you had to have known that he was just mad, you wouldn’t leave him over it, right? Right? You love him you couldn’t leave. His eyes watered as the cab drove away. His breath got caught in his throat. You were leaving, you were going to leave and not come back. His legs acted of their own accord as he chased after the car, tears streamed down his face as he called your name. His legs felt like jelly as he felt his ability to breath dwindle. Please...just keep going Minho he begged himself. Sobs ripped through his chest as he collapsed to his knees. Fuck come back...... he cried to nothing.  

Changbin:

“You never listen! Like seriously Y/N! I’m tired of telling you shit only for you to fucking ignore me!” Changbin exclaimed. You couldn’t remember how the fight had started some hours ago, the only thing you were sure of was that it was over, something that wasn’t as important as both of your anger had suggested. “Oh, I never listen?! How many times have I asked you to pick me up from work only to walk home…in the rain I might add? You continuously ignore things I’ve asked of you, and you are rarely ever here!” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you roll your eyes. You could feel the fire from Changbin’s glare burning into your face. “Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t want to be around you?  You’re fucking infuriating! You never even try to listen to my point of view! You continuously go against me every chance you get!” He growls his eyes in a scowl. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he continues his rant.  

“So why are you even with me then?!” You spit. He shakes his head in response “honestly, I have no clue…this is a waste of my time and a mistake” you feel your heart clench at his words, you scoff “good to know…”  with a definitive nod you stomp toward his bedroom grabbing your keys phone and purse. You saw nothing but red as you barreled your way to the door. As you exit his room you give him one last look “I won’t waste anymore of your time Changbin, let’s not keep making this mistake then” you state, tears running down your cheeks. You stare at him; his eyes wide and full of guilt. “Baby—no please just—just don’t. I’m done since this is such a mistake to you then I think you should just forget about me” you cut him off. His eyes fill with tears at your words as he shakes his head rapidly, his hands reaching out for you “N-No, c-come on this is stupid. We can fix this I'm sorry I didn’t mean that I was just angry” his voice is panicked, you stand in place shaking your head at his words. “Those aren't things you say just because you're mad, it's how you’ve felt for a while.” You respond dejectedly.  

His figure is shaking as he looks around the room, tears flowing down his cheeks. “I-it's not like that! I'm serious please believe me, you're not a mistake, were not a mistake I'm just stupid please don’t go” He begs. “I'm sorry Changbin, but I don’t think I’d be able to get over this. I'm always going to feel like you feel trapped with me, and it wouldn’t be healthy for us.” he gives you a small nod “I love you; I need you to believe that. Please believe that my love for you can help. I don’t want you to go, I don’t want to lose you. Fuck you're the best thing that’s happened to me in so long. Please don’t leave me.” Your face is warm at his words. Your tears still streaming down your face, as you release a sigh from your throat, “I'm sorry I just need time” you state with a whisper as you make your way out the door.  

Hyunjin:

Your hands were clammy and shaking around the basket, as you made your way through the JYPE building. You had only been here a select few times, and you were always able to figure out where you were as you usually went with Hyunjin. Whilst you were sitting in your dorm you felt the rush of loneliness, so you decided to surprise your boyfriend and his members with Tteokbokki, Bulgogi, and Chuncheon Dakgalbi. You knew they practice for hours without a break, so you figured they’d appreciate not having to order out for once. You were also excited to see Hyunjin as you haven't seen him other than in videocall for weeks. You were excited for their comeback, but you also hated that it took time away from you to spend with him. A smile forms on your lips as you see the familiar practice room. You can hear their voices booming through the door. Reaching for the handle you freeze as you hear Jeongin ask “Hyung, what's going on with you and Y/N?” your ears perk up at the mention of your name. What did he mean? “What do you mean?” You hear Hyunjin respond, annoyance lacing his tone. 

“Well...it's just we haven't seen her in a while, and I could just be guessing here but it just seems like something's off. You always seem annoyed when we mention Y/N. I was just making sure you guys didn’t break up or something and we were making it awkward by bringing her up” He states shyly. You smile to yourself. Jeongin had been the first member you had met from Stray Kids, long before you began dating Hyunjin. You appreciated that he felt like getting answers for you. You went to push the door fully open when you heard Hyunjin’s voice grow a little louder “You want to know what's actually awkward? Y/N.” Your heart sinks at his words. You were awkward? “What do you mean by that Hyung?” Jeongin questions. “I mean everything in our relationship is fucking awkward right now. She won't leave me the fuck alone; she calls me all the time not realizing that maybe I don’t want to talk to her if I don’t answer. She just doesn’t understand how the world works. She has this misconception about sex, so that’s completely off the table. Shes a foreigner so her Korean isn't the best, she doesn’t dress like someone who’s exceptionally a prude, but she is....” You look down at your current outfit at his words, a tight crop top and sweatpants. Tears make their way down your cheeks; you decide you don’t want to hear anymore. You place the basket on the ground in front of the door. Your vision is blurry as you knock on the door and make your way down the hall.  

You can hear the door open, making you pick up your pace. “Y/N?!” you hear Jisung’s voice call out, bringing you to a halt you turn to face him, bow slightly “I made a lot for you guys please eat” You call back from your place down the hall as you run toward the exit and out the building. You let the tears fall freely as you trudge your way back home. You felt stupid, you didn’t know Hyunjin felt those things. He never told you any of those things. Your bottom lip makes its way between your teeth. You didn’t know your Korean was bad, or that your no sex policy was such a deal breaker for Hyunjin. Youre pulled out of your thoughts by a hand tugging at your wrist. Your eyes connect with the culprit. You look away quickly as you see your boy—soon to be ex-boyfriend staring at you confusion etched onto his face. “Why’d you just drop food off and leave?” he questions sadness laced into his tone. “Please don’t touch me....” You state coldly ripping your arm from his hand. “D-did I do something?” He questions his voice filled with worry. Shaking your head “Just please don’t touch me.......I don’t think this is working out.......” your voice is practically a whisper. Hyunjin’s hands wrap around your arms “What's not working out?” his voice is panicked. You bring your eyes to meet his once again. “Let’s.......Breakup” You state definitively. Hyunjin’s eyes widen his mouth hung open as he shakes his head rapidly. “What?! No—why—why would we? --I don’t understand, what did I do?” he cries, tears filling up his eyes. You pull yourself from his arms as he stands there in shock. Turning away from him you restart your journey back to your dorm.  

“Wait! ” He calls “Wait! Please! Don’t go!”  

Your pace picks up, your heart racing. You notice the large crowd on the crosswalk, you escape into it. “Please wait for me! Don’t leave—fuck—come on please!” You hear him shoving his way through the crowd. “Y/N! Stop! Don’t go please come back I love you please come back; I'm trying fuck I'm trying please don’t leave me here like this! I don’t want to break up please stop!” He cries. You notice his eyes focused on nothing but you; tears streaming down his face as he continues to try to get to you. You almost stop at his declaration, until his word to Jeongin replays in your mind. Shaking your head, you break out into a run to your dorm. 

[dollbon]

Imagine 🪽

First "I love you"

You were in your room listening to music from one of your favorite bands while watching a series on your computer. It was late at night, but you just wanted to relax a little. The rain outside was still falling, making the environment even more comfortable for you.

That's when you heard three knocks on your bedroom window. You quickly got up and grabbed your pocketknife from the dresser next to your bed. Walking slowly to the window, you slowly pulled back the curtain and then the blinds. Then you saw JJ.

"But what are you doing here?"

You said, opening the window and looking at JJ, who was soaking wet.

"Can I come in?"

He asked and you quickly grabbed a towel for him to dry himself.

JJ went into his room and closed the window. He quickly wrapped himself in the towel and dried himself, not wanting to make a mess in your room.

You approached him with another towel to help dry his hair. It was then that you noticed the bruises and injuries on JJ's face and body.

"JJ, what-"

You tried to ask what had happened, but he interrupted you gently.

"Your aunt doesn't mind if I spend the night here, does she? Please?"

JJ looked at you with that vulnerable and nervous look you rarely saw.

"You know you can JJ."

You said helping him dry his hair.

You looked at JJ as he sat on the chair in your room, his leg bouncing as he bit a nail. You sighed and then walked over to him and hugged him, JJ immediately hugging you back.

"I'm sorry Jayj."

You mumbled sadly and he just nodded.

"I'll get you some clothes to take a shower okay?"

You said again and he just nodded.

JJ grabbed the clothes and a new dry towel and then went to the bathroom, you went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the medical kits in the house before going back to your room and waiting for JJ sitting on the bed.

JJ soon came out wearing the clothes you gave him and threw himself back on your bed.

"So, are you my nurse now?"

JJ joked trying to relax a little weather.

"Don't get carried away, you idiot."

You laughed and patted your side of the bed.

"Sit down."

You said as you opened the medical kit and took out some bandages and ointments.

JJ rolled his eyes and sat down next to you, waiting while you finished getting your things.

"It's going to sting a little, okay?"

You said and then a wry smile appeared on JJ's face.

"I can handle it, babe."

JJ said puffing out his chest with his big ego, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

You calmly applied the ointment and laughed when you saw JJ holding himself back from cursing when he felt the slight burning sensation. Your eyes met his for a few seconds, and then JJ pulled you on top of him as he lay down on your bed, leaving you surprised for a few seconds.

JJ laughed softly at your reaction and ran his hands up and down your back.

"What's wrong? And that surprised look? Is it because of my beauty or my irresistible charm?"

JJ joked and received a slap on the shoulder from you.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?"

You rolled your eyes and continued applying the ointment.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm a complete idiot for you, and it's not like you don't like it."

JJ smiled as he looked at you.

"Stop staring at me."

You said and he just smiled more.

"No, I want to look at you."

JJ said still smiling at you.

"And why do you want to look at me, hm?"

You ask and then look into his eyes.

"I don't know, I just want to look at you."

JJ said just to tease you as he continued to caress your back.

You sighed and rolled your eyes and went back to taking care of JJ's wounds. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you looked at the purple bruises.

"I don't want him to hurt you anymore JJ..."

You said and he sighed lightly, tightening his arms around you a little.

You looked at each other again and then JJ smiled. He pulled you closer and then you hugged, JJ still rubbing your back.

"I think you'll have to do one of those preppy makeups on me tomorrow to hide these bruises on my face."

JJ said making you laugh, he didn't like tense atmospheres, so he always said something silly to get a smile or a laugh.

You sat down still smiling and started to put away the medical kit.

"I'm going to get some painkillers for the pain, okay? I'll be right back."

You got up and went to the kitchen again, JJ lay on his bed while looking at the walls of his room that were decorated with posters of bands that you liked, pictures of you with the pogues and your sisters and finally a picture of him. When you returned to the room JJ didn't miss the chance to tease you.

"I didn't know you were my fan."

He said, making you raise an eyebrow in confusion, then he pointed to his picture on your wall.

"Oh, that's it, those are my favorite memories, that's why the pictures."

You said, sitting down next to him and handing JJ a glass of water and the painkiller.

JJ sat down to take the painkiller and smiled as he looked at the funniest and funniest pictures of the group.

"Ah! Look here, my favorite!"

You said, picking up a picture where JJ was wearing one of your dresses. He quickly sat up and tried to grab the picture of you, but you got up and started running from him around the room, until JJ caught up with you and the two of you fell on the bed, with JJ on top of you. You stared at each other before starting to laugh. You sat back down on the bed and then you put the pictures back in place.

"I like you, you know?"

JJ said suddenly as he stared at you.

You were confused for a moment but then you said:

"I like you too, you're a great friend-"

"No, you don't understand, I really like you."

JJ interrupted you gently and approached, his hand touching yours.

"I've been keeping this to myself for a while, I really like you a lot, you make me feel things I've never felt before, you're so natural in everything you do, and man, when you smile at me and look at me like that, I feel on cloud nine."

JJ said still looking deep into your eyes.

"JJ, are you sure about what you're saying?"

You said as your eyebrows furrowed a little in hesitation.

"Hey, what's the problem? Don't you trust me?-"

JJ said but you interrupted him.

"It's not that JJ, it's just that I don't want to be disappointed. I trust you, but I want you to be sure about what you're saying."

You said hugging your knees and sighing.

"A relationship is no joke, I want you to be sure that it's what you really want with me." You said and then looked at him, JJ gave a small smile and got closer.

"I'm sure I want this for myself, for us. I know I can be an idiot sometimes and very immature, but I really want this. You're simply amazing, I like the way you get angry easily, I like the sound of your laugh, your smile, your orange hair that got that color because it wasn't bleached properly, I like how you get so excited when you talk about the things you like, how your eyes shine when you hear a song from the old bands you like, your style, just everything girl! I love just everything about you! I love you!" JJ finally said still looking at you. His eyes lit up and you felt your cheeks get red with the sincere words of how JJ felt about you. A smile appeared on your face and then you finally looked at him again.

"I... I love you too JJ-"

You tried to finish the sentence but JJ interrupted you with a kiss full of feelings that had been kept for some time.

You separated for a few moments to catch your breath, but soon JJ pulled you into his lap and kissed you again.

The next day...

Your aunt woke up early as usual, she took a look at your sisters' room and then went to yours.

As soon as she opened the door and took a quick peek into the half-dark room, which was being half-lit by the lamp on the dresser next to your bed, a smile appeared on her lips when she saw you and JJ sleeping peacefully.

JJ was clinging to you like a needy puppy, his face hidden between your neck and shoulders as your quiet breaths mingled.

Your aunt laughed and smiled before closing the door and letting you rest.

[paladin--strait]

congrats on 100 followers!!!!!!!!

can i request prompt no. 1 with quinn hughes?

my bedroom is cold despite my sweating body. i'm covered in a blanket, which is exactly what my mom told me not to do if i had a fever when i would get sick as a child.

theres vicks vapo rub on my upper lip right beneath my nose and there's some on my chest too. i hope it'll open up my sinuses but i think i've used it so much these past few days that my nose is now immune to the strong smell of it.

i have a random tv show running on the television and soft ambient music playing in the background. thankfully, i can get my work done from home so i won't be losing any money. this packet of paperwork is taking hours and hours and it feels like it's never going to end.

i groan and throw my head back when i realize i have one more page left. but i gasp in shock when i hear my bedroom door creak open. i look behind me and i see quinn looking at me with a sad smile. "hey baby. i called your name a couple times but i guess you didn't hear me. how are you feeling?" he takes a couple steps forwards and sits beside me on the bed.

"quinn! i'm sick. you shouldn't get near me!" i say, the congestion making my voice sound all funny and nasally. "you have to play tomorrow. what are you doing here anyway?"

"baby, i don't care how sick you are. i'm gonna be here to check on you and take care of you." he tells me with soft and reassuring smile before he puts the back of his hand up to my forehead. "oh my god, you're burning up! you need to get out from under the covers." he grabs at my blanket, slowly pulling it away.

i grab at it quickly. "no! i'm cold!" i put the blanket back on and wrap myself in it. "please don't take my blanket..." i look at him with a soft look, my cheeks flushed red from my fever.

"fine. but please just promise me that you'll go without it later? i have to leave to go to practice later today. i wanna see it off of you when i come back home tonight." he says sternly. i know he means well, but i'm just so cold.

"okay...you sound like my mom right now. she used to tell me the same thing." i say, unwrapping just enough to reach over and shut off my computer after saving my work so far.

"so she's told you the same thing and you still didn't listen?" he says, looking at me with those eyes that make me agree that he's right every time he looks at me with them. "and you're working? i thought you called out? you need to stop and get some rest, my love." he stands, walking over the the other side of the bed and grabbing my laptop before he puts it on my dresser on the opposite side of the bedroom.

i groan out, my shoulders slumping. "but i can't just not do my work, i told them i would!"

"honey, you know i love you, but you look like death right now. i'm sure they'll understand if you don't get it all done." he says, putting his hands on his hips. "when you feel better, i try and help you finish it up. you tell me what to write and i'll type away. hold on, let me go get this medicine for you." he walks out of the bedroom and presumably to the kitchen.

i sit up in bed more when i see him walk in with one of those little measuring cups full of blue liquid and glass of water. "take this, it'll make you feel better."

i whimper and turn my head away from him. i know what that medicine tastes like and i think i'm gonna throw up if it even gets near me. "baby, i love you but don't make me shove this down your throat." i roll my eyes and look back at him. i know he would actually do it, so i hold out my hand to grab the little cup before i pour it into my mouth and swallow it quickly, trying to get rid of the disgusting taste as fast as possible with the cold water.

i cough when i pull the glass of water away from my lips. "there you go...see? that wasn't so bad!" quinn smiles at me as he speaks.

"you're not the one who had to drink it." i fire back, looking at him with slotted eyes.

he gives me a suprised look at my words, grabbing the cup from my hand and taking it into the kitchen to wash it out. i hear the beep of the microwave before he come back into the bedroom. he has a red and white bowl in his hands, the bottom covered with a blue potholder. "you need to eat. it'll help settle your stomach. you told me your stomach was hurting this morning when i called, so i figured you hadn't been eating properly. it's chicken noodle from chick-fil-a, the one you love so much? please eat it."

i smile at him and thank him for the food when he sets it on my lap. i grab the plastic spoon, filling it with soup and bringing it up to my mouth, eating it slowly. "thank you, quinny. can you get me some crackers?"

"babe, i don't think that's the best idea. it won't be good for your throat." he explains, sitting beside me.

"i want to put it in the soup and let the crackers get soggy. that's how i like it..." i say, looking at him softly. quinn hums in understanding and runs to the kitchen to get the crackers, coming back and breaking them up into my soup. "thank you!" i say happily, the congestion still evident in my voice.

quinn sits beside me while i eat, putting on our tv show that we started watching together. he turns off the ambient music and turns the fan on, putting it on the lowest setting. after i finish eating, i snuggle up to quinn, "i'm sorry if i get you sick..." he shakes his head and gives me a kiss on the forehead.

"it's alright honey, i don't care." he smiles and holds me closer to him. "just as long as my baby is okay."

[wildyueblonder]

Febuwhump Day 1: Lost Voice

My first ever fic so please be kind! After watching all of slow horses I've been INFECTED and I can't get it out of my head, so 2000 words of River whump just fell out onto the page. No idea if I'll write any more although the Febuwhump prompts are gooood. May upload to AO3 if people like it (and once I have my account set up)

*****

River let out a long sigh as he eased himself down into his desk. Just that small rush of air made his throat burn, and he resisted the urge to drop his aching head into his hands.

He probably could have justified staying home today. It was a grey drizzly Monday morning in the streets of London, commuters going about their business with heads down and hoods up, trying to shelter from the ever-permeating English dampness. It was not the kind of weather that inspired action, and he couldn’t imagine even terrorists wanting to brave this when they could be sat at home with a cup of tea and some daytime telly. Nothing would be happening at Slough House today. Nothing ever happened at Slough House.

Despite it all, somehow River had dragged himself from his bed that morning, eyes sticky and head throbbing, with a throat like he had spent the night swallowing shards of glass. As a child, the O.B. had been strict on illness – the words ‘if you’re unwell enough to complain, then you’re unwell enough to stay in bed’ echoed through River’s mind. He had never been a patient child, and had usually been keen to avoid a day stuck in his bedroom. He had learnt to push through any signs of illness, and had noticed a glint of pride in the O.B.’s eyes whenever he did so. The old man had valued toughness. Even now, River couldn’t help but try and prove himself, although his grandfather was no longer in a fit state to recognise his efforts.

And so, here he was, at 9:07am, slumped in his desk chair at England’s most useless intelligence branch, staring with slightly glazed eyes at the loading screen of his computer, as Louisa noisily clattered her way into the office.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, out of breath, dropping her bag on the floor as she unwound a scarf from her neck. “Tube was rammed. Has Lamb noticed?”

River shook his head, doing his best to seem focused on his screen and hoping Louisa couldn’t see that all he was doing was entering his password. He really just needed to keep his head down and get through today, and Louisa had this annoying way of caring that threatened to throw off his composure.

(Briefly, his mind flashed back to memories of a cool hand on his forehead, an arm around his shoulders, a soft voice washing over him. His grandmother had not always agreed with the O.B.’s childrearing methods, and would go behind his back when he went to work, sneaking River ice cream and comfort. As he had gotten older, River had rebuffed these attempts at care, fearing that they would make him weak. But what he would give now for one more day with Grandma Rose, making him feel warm and cared for and loved.)

“Cup of tea?” Louisa asked. River grunted in affirmation, watching her make her way to the kitchen before turning his eyes back to his screen, where he had finally managed to pull up last week’s surveillance footage reports. Focusing on the numbers made his eyes feel hot and prickly, but he rubbed them with the heel of his hand before pressing on with his work.

He didn’t notice Louisa’s approach until a steaming mug thumped down onto his desk. He attempted to cover his flinch with a quick ‘thanks’ but all that came out was a croak.

Louisa turned on her way to her own desk, eyes narrowed and raking over his slightly slumped form. River made an effort to sit up straighter. “Everything okay?” Her voice was suspicious.

Attempting to clear his throat, River gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Fine,” he tried to say, although all that came out was a whisper. “Just a bit of a sore throat, nothing to worry about.”

Louisa still looked concerned, but made her way round to her chair and sat down. “You sound like you shouldn’t be here. Lamb wouldn’t mind, you know. Even slow horses are allowed sick days.”

River felt his shoulders tense, but forced himself to stay calm as he answered her. “Seriously, Louisa, it’s fine.” He instantly regretted the emphasis he put on the last word, as he felt it aggravate his already shredded throat. Grabbing the mug, he swallowed a large gulp, hoping it would soothe his voice.

It didn’t. Immediately his body rebelled at the scalding liquid and he began choking. Each cough bounced inside his head and made his eyes water. He blindly reached for his desk, needing some support to stay up, and he distantly heard something crash to the floor. Desperately he hacked and coughed, trying to bring air into his lungs, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t breathe, and his throat was on fire, and the world was fading to black at the edges…

A hand. A hand was gently rubbing at his back, and River focused on it, trying to slow down his heaving chest. He steadily became aware of a voice, murmuring “Easy, easy…” above his head. Louisa’s voice. When had Louisa made her way over to his desk?

Gradually, River’s breathing slowed, and he blinked away tears from his eyes. A droplet of cold sweat tracked a path between his shoulder blades, making him shiver, and Louisa hummed as she moved a hand from his back to his cheek.

“Jesus, River,” she muttered, crouching in front of him. “You don’t do things by halves, do you?”

River tried to answer, but this time when he opened his mouth, not even a whisper could make its way out. Worry danced in Louisa’s eyes. He looked around for the cup of tea, hoping to take a more measured gulp this time, but couldn’t see it. Casting his eyes around, he saw a flash of white on the ground, and peering under the desk revealed the mug upended, its contents soaking into the already stained carpet. River stared, eyes wet, feeling an inexplicable sense of loss for his traitorous beverage.

“Right, come on then,” Louisa said, interrupting his train of thought by slapping her thighs as she stood up. River tried to ask what she meant, but again when he opened his mouth no sound came out. He settled for a puzzled look up at her.

“I’m taking you home,” she said. “You need to be in bed, and it gets me out of work, even if only briefly. It’s a win-win.”

Now that she mentioned it, bed did sound nice. And truth be told, River really did feel rubbish today, didn’t he? The pain in his throat was steadily being outmatched by his headache, which had only worsened in intensity after his coughing fit. His face was burning, but there was a cold clamminess settling into the rest of his body, along with a heaviness in his limbs that made him want to curl up and never move again. But the thought of Lamb’s reaction to River’s weakness, along with the dark, empty flat waiting for him at home, was enough to steel him for one final fight.

He glared up at Louisa, then pulled out his phone, cold fingers stumbling over the keyboard. Louisa’s phone pinged, and she pulled it out, sighing at the message on screen.

Not going. Don’t need to.

And a second message, almost immediately after the first.

Please just leave me be

Louisa perched herself on the edge of his desk, exhaling heavily through her nose. “Fine,” she said. “I guess it’s your choice.”

River felt a flicker of hope, along with a treacherous sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach that he instantly tried to smother. Maybe now he could-

“Of course,” Louisa continued, a hint of amusement in her eyes, “Catherine will be very upset to hear you’ve come in feeling so ill.”

River’s eyes flicked up to hers. She wouldn’t. She knew that was too far.

Catherine Standish was notorious at Slough House for her attitude towards injury and illness. She was keen to instill a sense of self-preservation in all the slow horses, a task which anyone could have told her was doomed to fail from the start. But River didn’t mind her intention. It was a perfectly noble, if ridiculous, thing to wish for.

No, what River couldn’t stand was the execution. Make no mistakes about it, Catherine liked to fuss. She would look at you with disappointed eyes, like each time you got in the path of a bullet, or got punched in the face, or picked up some bug from the cesspool that was the London public transport system, you had done it specifically to hurt her. And then she wouldn’t stop, offering you cups of tea and blankets and bandages, trying to do your shopping or drive you home. It was too much, and right now it sounded like more than River could deal with. If someone offered him that kind of care right now, the wateriness of his eyes might spill over into real tears, and he didn’t think he could get past the absolute mortification that would be crying at Slough House.

He scowled at Louisa. She allowed herself a small smile as River huffed and slowly, reluctantly nodded. He didn’t have much choice right now, and Louisa was preferable to Catherine. Pushing himself up from his desk, he wobbled slightly, waiting for the world to come back into the focus around him. When it did, Louisa was next to him holding his coat out.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go. Before Lamb decides to give me something pointless to do.”

They made their way together down the creaking metal steps outside Slough House, Louisa one step behind River, walking slowly as he held onto the railing with a tight grip. As they reached his car, Louisa held out a hand for his car keys. River opened his mouth as if to challenge her, then thought better of it, anticipating the pain and futility of trying to protest. He handed them over wordlessly then made his way round to the passenger seat.

Louisa got in and started the car, pulling a seatbelt on and turning on the radio to a low hum. As she drove off, the passing scenery set River’s stomach churning, and he closed his eyes, pulling his coat tighter around him as a shiver swept down his spine. He felt Louisa reach over to adjust something, and a blast of warm air began to fill the car. River sniffed, finally allowing himself to feel a bit miserable. He jumped a little as he felt a hand brush some sweaty hair of his forehead, and opening his eyes a crack showed Louisa breaking focus on the road for a second to glance warmly at him.

Smiling, River allowed his eyes to close again. Sure, it wasn’t Grandma Rose, but somehow, within Slough House’s motley crew of misfits, he’d managed to find some of that same love and care, just packaged up in a slightly less homely manner. The streets whizzed by outside the window as River, uncaring of his surroundings, drifted off, a warmth spreading through his chest.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

The Big Bad Wolf - Chapter One: The Johnsons - Bigby Wolf x fem!human!reader

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The Woodland Apartments Fabletown 🕖Early morning...

Much to Bigby’s pleasure, last night was quiet, the calm before the storm. But his mind kept circling back to the events of the day before—the way the people blamed him as if the world’s problems were all tied to his past mistakes.

The smoke of the cigarette filled his nostrils, his senses much more heightened than usual. His bruised hands brushed over his tie, slightly adjusting it.

"Shit…" he murmured as a bit of ash fell onto his shirt, burning a small hole into it. "Great…" he brushed it off, making his way towards the door, getting ready for a new duty call. The ring of the phone awakened him that morning, Toad's complaints being more than enough to make him go over and check whatever was going on.

As he opened the door, an unfamiliar scent curiously engulfed him. He sniffed slightly. The faint smell of vanilla and florals clung to the air, not subtle by any means, but there was something about it that cut through the usual haze of cigarettes and city grime. The scent of Marlboro, though—his nose caught that too. He knew who it was.

"Morning, Bigby!" the joyous voice made him snap back to reality. (Y/n) smiled at him, locking the door behind him.

"Hi, (Y/n)…" he answered with a faint smile. "Going to work?"

She shoved the keys into the pocket of her long, brown coat, the huge laptop bag hanging heavily on her shoulder. "Unfortunately…" she said as they both walked towards the elevator. She gave him a worried look. "Are you ok? You look a bit…"

"Like shit?" he said with a smirk.

"No, no! I didn't mean to say that!" (Y/n) quickly answered, a faint blush creeping on her cheeks. "Rough… I think that would be the word."

Bigby let out an amused huff. "Got into a fight with some… bastards… It's nothing really." he tried to brush it off. He didn’t want to go into the details. After all, she was just a Mundy. No reason to drag her into all this.

Her lips formed into a tight line as she looked at his bruised hands. "I imagine being a detective is not a piece of cake…"

Bigby felt a bit guilty having to lie to her. Mundy or not, she has always been nice to him. It was a first really. But maybe it was for the best if everything was kept a secret.

The doors of the elevator closed, slowly ascending down to the first floor.

Bigby’s gaze lingered on her for a second before he asked, 'New perfume?' A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You noticed?" (Y/n) asked with a smile. "I didn't think it was that intense. It's not… too much, right?"

"No, no." He shot her an amused smile. "But you can't fool this nose. It's nice, really. Covers the Marlboro scent just right."

She chuckled. "Thanks. I hope it will last more than half an hour tho."

They stepped out of the elevator, both reaching for their pack of cigarettes as they walked out of the building. “Fuck…” (Y/n) muttered, cigarette dangling from her lips as she rifled through her pockets, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I forgot my lighter…”

Bigby’s eyes flicked to her, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. Without a word, he stepped closer, the faint scent of his cigarette still lingering in the air as he lit hers with a smooth motion.

“Here,” he said, his voice low, as he handed her the lighter, his fingers brushing over hers. “Take it with you. I’ve got another one.”

"Thanks," she said as she took a drag out of her cigarette. "Colin gave you the jacket, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for returning it."

"I should be thanking you… I would've frozen that night. I guess I owe you one."

"Don't mention it. I am planning on getting a computer and I might need some help so… I guess we'll be even."

(Y/n) smiled as they walked towards the street. "I could give you a ride too if you want… Where do you need to be?"

"I'll get a cab. It was in the opposite direction anyway. Thanks anyway!"

"Sure. Hey, Bigby!" she stopped and quickly walked back to him. "I almost forgot… I saw their car and… Have you seen the Johnsons lately?" she asked, a more worried expression on her face.

"The Johnsons?" he wasn't really accustomed to all the mundies that moved into the Woodland in the past years, though the names were familiar.

"They live right above you. You know… Lena and Daniel… She's blonde and-"

"Oh yeah… I know them. How could I forget those nights…"

She smiled slightly. "Yeah, no… Um, I used to stay with their cat every Sunday when they were visiting Lena's father… They haven't called me in a while and I haven't seen them around… Have you?" Bigby thought for a moment, but even if he did, he probably didn't even pay attention. "Um, no… I don't think I did."

"Can you… check on them or something? I tried to talk to the administration but they kind of ignored me…"

Bigby hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t exactly known for playing the good Samaritan, but he could almost feel her gaze on him, the weight of her concern pressing down like an unspoken plea.

"Sure… I’ll check on them. I'm sure they're probably just on holiday or something."

"Thank you, Bigby," she said and walked to the car. "It's just… I don't want to waste your time with my paranoia but… No one seems to listen in this building…" she turned slightly to face him. "… Except for you…"

He gave her a warm smile. "I'll check on them, don't worry." (Y/n) returned his smile, getting into her car. His eyes followed her as she took off. He knew mundies were often paranoic for no reason but since he started living so close to them, he learned to listen to them too sometimes.

As (Y/n) drove off, Bigby stood there for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on the empty street. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, but something about her request gnawed at him. The Johnsons could wait—he’d see to them later. For now, there was something more pressing.. it was green and 3 feet tall.

Tenement Building South Bronx 🕢Later that day...

Bigby entered the old building. He scanned the surroundings as he threw the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it.

"Fookin' 'ell, Bigby! When I say there's an emergency, I mean an EMERGENCY! You could've well come tomorrow! It would've been the same fookin' shit!" Toad's voice echoed in the hall as he came out of his apartment.

"Good morning to you too, Toad."

"Good? Good?! It’s not good, mate! Nah, it’s shit actually!" Bigby rolled his eyes, already done with Toad's shit. Nothing new.

"What's the emergency, Toad? You still forgot to buy that glamour?"

Toad's angry face faded for a second, a more guilty expression taking its place. "Oh, come on, mate! Gimme a fuckin' break…" he said, as tired of the conversation as probably Bigby was. "I would've had the money for the stupid glamour if that… bloody bastard hadn' stolen it from me this mornin'!"

"Who stole your money, Toad?"

Toad looked away, fiddling with his long fingers. "It… wasn't… I think it was one o' them mundies…"

“A mundy?!” Bigby snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Have you been seen? Like this?"

"No, mate! No! I hid away with me son! The bastard got scared when he realised someone was at 'ome and left…" Bigby sighed. "I promise, Sheriff! No one saw me or me boy!"

Bigby reached into his pockets, pulling out the crumpled bills. He tossed them to Toad with an almost mechanical gesture. "There. Go see a witch and get your damn glamour," he muttered, irritation bubbling under his calm facade. He didn’t like giving handouts, but he hated Toad’s whining more.

Toad shot him a smile. "Thank you, Sheriff! I am goin' right now!"

"Careful on the streets, Toad! I took you out of the Farm once!"

"I'll be careful, Sheriff!" the frog answered as he closed the door behind him, leaving Bigby alone. He checked his pockets for another match but found nothing left. "Shit..." he muttered, as he heard footsteps approaching him.

"Woody..." Bigby greeted, not turning towards his direction.

"Hello to you too, Wolf..." the rough voice of the Woodsman echoed back. "What's up with you?"

"Toad's bullshit again," Bigby answered coldly. The Woodsman didn’t answer right away, his eyes lingering on Bigby, weighing something.

"Got a smoke?" He asked, finally winning Bigby’s attention.

The sheriff scanned him for a moment, as he took out the pack. "Fuck happened to you?" he asked, handing him a cigarette. His face was full of bruises and so were his arms.

"You know me, Wolf... Couldn't stay away from a good fight..." he gave him a forced smile. "Have a lighter or something?"

"No..." Bigby answered. "Ran out of matches too… typical."

The Woodsman huffed as he searched his pockets, proudly pulling out a lighter. He lit up the cigarettes, taking a deep drag out of his. "I've heard you caught the killer yesterday..." he changed the subject. "... And finished the job..."

Bigby looked away, trying to keep his calm. "I had to do it..."

Woody shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the reasons behind Bigby’s actions. "I didn’t blame you, Bigby… Hell, I would've probably done the same." Bigby stayed quiet, feeling the weight of the Woodsman’s gaze on him, unsure how to respond. A part of him appreciated the understanding, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything. Woody flicked his cigarette to the ground, his voice carrying a bit of finality. "Nice talk, anyway… I’ll see you around, I guess." With that, the hunter turned and walked away.

"Woody..." Bigby shouted, making him turn. "Stay out of trouble... will you?"

The Woodsman smiled slightly. "I could say the same to you... But we both know this won't ever happen," he answered as he disappeared into the crowd.

Fabletown Business Office The Woodland Building 🕓4:14 PM

Snow's voice echoed in the office as she spoke into the phone. Her eyes quickly lay on the door as it slowly opened, Bigby's hard steps echoing in the room.

"Yes… I understand, but I can't confirm what my associate said right now…" Snow spoke as her eyes met Bigby's, but she was seemingly still more focused on the other person. "Sorry... I- No, I will check it and call you back. Ok. Thank you!" she sighed as she hung up the phone.

"Everything alright?" Bigby asked, his arms crossed against his chest.

"Yes... It's just... Oh, never mind..." she said, looking back at him. "Um... How are you feeling? After..."

"I'm good." he quickly cut her off, not in the mood to talk about the past events.

"I see... You left fast yesterday and..."

"Not here for that, Snow."

"Oh," she said, a bit intrigued. "Then? What is the problem?"

"(Y/n) asked me to check on someone. Said she hadn't seen them in a while."

Snow thought for a moment, Bigby's words seemingly making a lightbulb turn on. "Yes, I remember she told me something a few days ago..."

"And why did I never find out? Bigby asked, seemingly a bit irritated.

"Because I'm sure it's nothing serious… (Y/N)'s worried, but we don't need to overreact." she said, looking through some documents. "Look, I have some documents to look into, so if you want to check on them, ask Flycatcher for the key. It's the room 604." She said and returned to her business.

"Great. Babysitting mundies now, too." Bigby said, getting ready to leave.

"I know it's hard, Bigby... This was supposed to be our haven, our refuge from the Mundy world," Snow said, pinching the bridge of her nose, her voice heavy with frustration. "But we need their help... Even if we like it or not..."

"Yeah, yeah and I have to look after their ass too," Bigby said and walked towards the door.

"Bigby!" Snow called, making him stop in his tracks. "Don't... act like..."

"... Like I usually do?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I just... They don't know what is going on. We must not drag them into this."

"I know," he said and slammed the door behind him.

After taking the key from the Flycatcher, he quickly made his way towards the apartment, slightly annoyed at himself for getting dragged into this. The loud bangs in the door reverberated through the hall, but no answer came from inside.

"Mr. Johnson?" he called, followed by another set of knocks. "It's Bigby. I'm here to talk." he pressed his ear against the door, but there was nothing but silence inside. With a sigh, he unlocked the door. His hand tightened around the doorframe as he pushed it open, the sharp stench of blood thick in the air. The scene inside made him freeze, eyes narrowing in shock.

"Shit," he growled under his breath.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. angst. angry dean. implied death. strong language.

A/N : obviously i changed a few things for the character insert so bear with me. hopefully y’all don’t hate it too much. thanks for reading 💜

Maricela's POV

Dean had taken Kevin to a motel in Branson for a few days while Sam and I stayed at the bunker. After everything that's happened these past few weeks, Dean and I decided to take a little break ourselves. Sam—of course—had questions that I didn't know how to answer. Pretending that Dean never told me anything seemed to cease his inquiries—to me, at least. I knew he was waiting for his brother to get home to fill in the blanks. So, after attempting and failing to get more demon names from Crowley, I try and distract Sam.

"Saaammmm!" I whine as I walk toward the Winchester.

He sits on one of the chairs in front of the Map Table, documents from the Men of Letters scattered before him.

"Hmm?" He hums, eyes scanning over the records before scribbling on a notepad.

I wrap my arms around his neck from behind and nuzzle my face against his. "Take a break—watch a movie with me."

He taps my forearm gently, replying, "I can't. I have to find a way to help Cas."

"Trust me, I want nothing more than Cas to be here, but we can’t help him if we burn ourselves out. Let's just take a little break." My arms falter from their position before straightening my posture. I lean against the table, finishing my persuasion. "It'll still be here in a couple of hours—I'll even let you pick the movie."

He puts his pen down, then swivels his chair to face me entirely. His lips purse as he ponders my proposition. With my head tilted to the side, my brows slightly pinched, and pleading eyes peeking through my lashes, a tiny frown ties my puppy dog look together. Despite his dithering, I knew he couldn't say no to me. With a heavy sigh, he throws his hands up in defeat.

Sam stands from his seat and mutters, "Fine."

"Yay!" I cheer, already walking towards the kitchen. "I'll grab the snacks while you get the movie ready."

Heading straight towards the shelves, which held all nonperishable foods, I reach for the snacks only Sam and I would consume. I grab the Jiffy Pop popcorn and bring it to the stove. Just as I was about to ignite the burner, the door to the bunker slammed closed. The men's voices carry into the kitchen. My heart flutters at the return of the eldest brother. Self-consciously, I tuck my curtain bangs behind my ears and straighten my clothing.

A light blush rushes to my cheeks, embarrassed about getting this flustered over a man. I wait a few moments, allowing the pinkness a chance to fade. Once the flush subsides, I focus on why I came into the kitchen in the first place. Deciding not to cook the kernels, I leave the gathered food on the island and walk toward the War Room. Dean stood with his arms crossed, listening to his younger brother.

They look underneath the table before Sam says, "You're never gonna believe what we found."

"You showing him the computer?" I ask and get a nod from the younger Winchester.

I follow behind the boys as Sam leads us to the new room we found earlier. He opens the door and flips the light switch, revealing a humongous machine in the middle of the room. It had at least a hundred buttons that lined the board.

"Voilà."

"This is a computer?" asks Dean.

"Yeah—or it was in 1951 when it was installed." We circle to the back of the machine as Sam raises his finger like Velma would often do when talking, continuing our discovery. "Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, I have no idea what's making this thing work."

Dean runs his hand along the side of the metal, stopping to say, "It's warm here."

Sam puts his hand where his brother implies, feeling the heat for himself. Dean uses his fingers to open the panel to the computer's back but lucks out. I inspect the shelves of miscellaneous items and find a flathead screwdriver, then hand it to Dean. He takes it and turns around, jamming the tool into the back of the computer. The metal creaks, refusing to open, but he jimmies harder. Suddenly, the panel clatters to the floor, and he stumbles into the wall and shelves behind him.

"Got it." He clears his throat, trying to play it cool.

With the back now open, we squat to see inside. Sam retrieves a flashlight from his rear pocket to illuminate the machine. However, the guts weren’t like any computer I've seen. And judging from their responses, they haven't either.

"Huh." Sam breathes.

"Well, that looks simple. Does it come with a manual?"

"Nothing in the archives, and I obviously couldn't find anything like it online, not to mention I'm pretty sure that the Men of Letters doesn't exactly have I.T. support anymore, either."

"I think I know somebody who could help us," I mention, standing up to fetch my phone. "Come on."

Wordlessly, the boys follow me out of room 28.

Charlie walks into the bunker along with Sam. He holds her duffle bag as they walk down the steps like the gentleman he is. Dean and I call our hello's before getting out of our chairs. She waves and meets us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Thanks for coming," Dean says, hugging her before me.

"Not a problem, especially since I got fired last week," Charlie admits.

"Hey, what?" Sam questions after setting her bag on the Map Table. "What happened?"

"Turns out the company I work for was outsourcing to child labor, so I took a big WikiLeak all over that. And, yeah. It's cool, though. It's given me more time to focus on my hobbies..." Charlie trails off, watching Dean closely. My eyes go wide, knowing what she was going to reveal. I subtly shake my head, trying to prevent her from enduring the same judgment I went through. Ignoring me, she continues, "Like LARPing, Macrame, and hunting."

"Excuse me?" Dean's voice lowers in a dad-like tone. His hands rest on his hips as he peers down at the red-head.

Her arms quickly rise in defense, trying to calm Dean's growing anger. "Okay. It was just a couple little cases. I took down a teenage vampire and a ghost...which sounds like a Y.A. novel if you say it out loud."

"Charlie, how'd it go?" Sam inquires.

"It was, uh..." She glances at Dean, his mouth hung agape in disbelief. Her gaze shifts to me, frowning momentarily before darting to Sam. "It was intense. I had a close friend helping in case anything went sideways. As you can see, I'm fine. But I kind of wish hunting was more...magical, you know?"

"Close friend—who?" Dean inquires urgently, ignoring her last sentence.

I shake my head, hoping my pleading eyes will make her keep my identity a secret. Charlie stares at me, hesitating to answer. Dean follows her eyes and sees my plea before I have a chance to mask it. Fuck. His eyes grew wider before narrowing in anger.

"You knew about this and didn't tell us? Worse—you took her hunting?"

"I didn't take her hunting; She wanted to go herself. So, I offered to assist."

Dean's eyes roll at my response. "You should've changed her mind!"

"I didn't need to do shit. She's a grown-ass woman, Dean! She can make decisions for herself. If she wants to hunt, that's her prerogative."

"She can get herself killed, and the last person who should be teaching her to hunt is you!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I ask defensively.

"It means you can hardly keep yourself alive."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"Is it? 'Cause it's getting real old having to constantly worry every hunt if that one will be your last. I have enough crap on my plate, and making sure you don't get killed isn’t something I signed up for. God, it’s exhausting. You’re the last person I would ever want on my mind.”

Silence fills the room once his honesty leaves his sharp tongue. His words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless. Was it as bad as it sounded, or was the pain I was feeling heightened by my love for him? His face didn't seem to carry any remorse. Instead, he loomed over me, his annoyance palpable as he peered down with a towering stance.

"Sorry, I've been such an inconvenience for you. Maybe next time I'll die, so you don't have to worry anymore." My words dripped with disgust as I desperately tried to mask the hurt I felt.

I don’t waste another moment in the War Room and in his presence. Ignoring Sam's calls, I storm into the corridor. Anger replaces my pain the closer I get to my room. How dare he say those things. I'm a great hunter! I've been hunting for years; I knew what I was doing. I never took on something I couldn't handle by myself.

In a rage, I slam my door closed. I'm a damn good hunter! I assure myself. Every single one has been close to death, so why was I any different? He goes in guns blazing, too! He doesn't have any regard for his life, and he's made that known on many occasions.

Knowing that my thoughts would only aggregate me further, I grab my wireless headphones from my desk. With the light off, I stumble to my bed and get comfortable as I turn on the set playlist for times like this. I close my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the music and not my fist in Dean's face. As each song played, I felt my anger subside a little more. I can’t be sure how much time has passed, but the frustration rushes back once my headphones get yanked off.

"What the hell?" I yell at the figures towering over me.

"We've got a problem."

Sam, Dean, and I scavenge the halls after they explain what was going on. Dorothy and the Wicked Witch are real, and just so happen to be in the bunker. We wander to the dungeon, instantly greeted with Crowley's whistle rendition of ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow.’ The men stroll closer to the King of Hell as I follow behind.

"Wow, if it isn't the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and Dorothy. Well—not the real one, anyway. As for your other new houseguest—so misunderstood." The demon joked, yet no one but him found it amusing. "Either of you saw 'Wicked?'"

"What did she say to you?" Sam demands.

"Something along the lines of..." Crowley trails off before hissing.

"All right, well, I'm gonna go get some holy oil and a lighter, dick bag." Dean chimes in, turning to fetch the items, but stops once the demon starts speaking.

"I know what she's looking for."

"What does she want?" I ask.

"I'd be happy to tell you as soon as I get to stretch my legs."

The younger Winchester nods toward the prisoner, agreeing. With annoyance, Dean moves to fill the King of Hell's request. Sam and I aim our guns in case Crowley tries to pull anything. With one hand, Dean grabs the key out of his pocket to unlock the lock around the metal collar, while the other hand holds the demon blade to the demon's throat as a warning. Dean backs away as the soulless monster happily pries the collar off, chains clattering when he drops it to the table.

"Oh." He chuckles, standing from his seat.

"What does the witch want?" Sam questions.

"Give me a mo. I still need to air myself out." Crowley pushes.

With my gun already raised, I shoot a round into the demon's chest. He looks down at it, physically unfazed. "I think you're aired out enough."

"Rude." He murmurs before picking up the crumbled-up paper from the table to reveal the word: key.

"Key? What key?" Sam presses.

"I haven't the foggiest. Had to send her off on a merry chase before she could melt me." The King of Hell flashes his pearly whites before revealing, "Told her you boys kept the keys in the kitchen. You do have a kitchen in this crap hole, don't you?"

We look at one another before racing to the destination. Once in the kitchen, it was clear it had been ransacked. There wasn't one surface that was left untouched. I groan, knowing I had to clean it later.

"Damn it, I just cleaned in here." Dean sighs in disappointment.

"Really?" Sam rhetorically asks in sarcasm.

Walking down the steps, the Dick of the Day states the obvious, "Looks like we got a witch here."

Someone walks into the other door to the kitchen, and we quickly draw our weapons only to see Charlie and the Dorothy.

"Sorry. We raided your gun range." Charlie extended her arm for us to see what was in her hand. "Made us some poppy bullets. They won't kill the witch, but they will stun the crap out of her."

Dean picks up the casing, examining the bullets. "That's my girl." He murmurs, his eyes lingering on her before seeking a glance at me as his attention shifts to his handgun.

If it weren't for the fight we had earlier, I would’ve been jealous that he’d never complimented me like that once before. Instead, the 'jealousy' turns into more anger. What was it that made him act differently towards me? I wonder.

"There was only enough for five bullets, so...make each shot count."

We load the bullets into our magazines as Dorothy speaks, "Now we just have to find her before she finds whatever the hell she's looking for."

"She's looking for a key." I clarify.

"How do you know?" Charlie inquires.

"Little birdie told us," Sam responds. "Ring any bells, Dorothy?"

"Unfortunately," She replies with dismay. "It's the key to Oz. There are magical ways into Oz—tornado, eye of a hurricane, whirlpool—but this key will turn any locked door into a portal to Oz. Insert key, twist, and presto, you're in Oz."

"How did the Men of Letters get the key?" I question.

"I have no idea, but if she finds it, she'll go back and finish what she started. She'll destroy all that is good in Oz. She's got armies of witches, flying monkeys. Many will die."

"What's this key look like?" Dean interjects.

Dorothy pulls out a journal from the inside of her jacket. We huddle around her as she quickly flips through the beige pages. Finally, she finds the one with information regarding the sought-after key. The top read 'KEEP SAFE' and was written with three exclamation marks. A sketch of the key took up half the page but was perfectly detailed to identify when searching for it.

"I've seen that key." The oldest Winchester confesses. "Found it when I was doing inventory."

"Where is it now?"

"My room. We got to get to that key. All right, Maricela, Charlie, and I will go look in my room." He turns to Sam and finishes, "Why don't you guys buy us some time?"

"I'll go with Sam," I speak dryly, not wanting to be around Dean any longer than I had to. His deep voice utters an 'I don't think so,' to which I roll my eyes. "Oh, right. You don't think I can handle myself, so I can't leave your side."

Without waiting for a comeback, I try storming to his room, but before I can leave the kitchen, his hand grabs my arm, pulling me back. I turn around and snatch my limb back, my eyes narrowing at his touch, daring him to do it again. Sam and Dorothy had left the room, leaving us three. Ignoring my glare, the Winchester’s gaze shifts between Charlie and me as he speaks.

"Safest place in this joint is the dungeon."

"You have a dungeon in this place?" She inquiries, giving me déjà vu. "Of course you do."

"So maybe you two should..." Dean trails off, implying we run from the danger.

Before I speak up, Charlie says, "We are not hiding, especially in a dungeon. Wicked witch, a key, a quest?" She playfully punches his shoulder—had it been me, it would've been rougher and somewhere else. With glee, she declares, "Let's do this."

She pivots and heads towards Dean's room. I turn on my heel and ignore his calls as I walk with Charlie. After giving up, he assigns us corners of his room to scavenge. I rifled through his desk drawers and a box of files he handed me.

"You keep your porn meticulously organized, but not—" Charlie starts to criticize before Dean interrupts.

"Don't judge me." He rifles through a wooden crate before calling out, "Ah! Yahtzee."

Charlie and I face the man who found what we were searching for. Suddenly, she gasps, calling out his name as she stares at the witch behind him. He turns around, and the witch snatches the key from his hand. She backhands his face, knocking him on the bed behind him before he bounces off with a grunt and rolls into the wall. The Wicked Witch pockets the key in her black cloak before raising her right hand towards the Winchester. The power began to gather in her hand, emitting a green glow.

Panicking, I shout, "No!"

Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dean. As I intended, my body shields his, absorbing the blast instead. And in the blink of an eye, I'm in the middle of the woods, the sun high in the sky, as I point a gun at the beer bottles set up ahead.

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