#it’s always impossible to get in touch with doctors on fridays

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Eight

Summary: Em had a rough day at work. Dieter makes her feel better.

Rating: PG-13 (nothing graphic, Em is still shy about writing explicit details about her relationship, lol)

Word Count: 4800+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

Dieter insisted on driving himself home after the accident. He called me when he got there, complaining about what a pain in the ass the drive had been. The butt jokes continued throughout the week, accompanied by a few photos of the stitches to prove that he was healing up. 

“Dieter, I have enough pictures of your ass,” I told him on Thursday. “Besides, I’m going to see it in person tomorrow night.”

”You can never have enough pictures of my ass,” he replied. “Which, by the way, is looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Friday morning I put my overnight bag into the trunk of my car. I was going to drive straight from work to Dieter’s place, since I would be back tracking if I went home first. Fridays are always long, but that one felt like an eternity. We were busy, but the beginning of school rush was starting to die down and I had pockets of downtime when my mind was able to wander. And it wandered toward Dieter.

Traffic was horrendous, of course, but I managed to get to Dieter’s house after only a two hour drive. He greeted me at the door wearing a pair of baggy pajama pants and an old Pac Sun t shirt. He was barefoot.

”Nice look,” I said as he wrapped me in his arms.

”I’m an invalid,” he said. “These are my sick clothes.”

”You’ve been to four meetings and a doctor’s appointment this week. You aren’t an invalid.”

He pouted. “But my butt hurts, baby.”

I tried to keep a straight face but it was impossible. Pouting Dieter always makes me laugh. 

We spent a quiet weekend, watching movies and making out on the couch. Dieter couldn’t go in the pool because of the stitches, which made him a bit grumpy, but otherwise it was the romantic weekend we’d attempted to have the previous week.

”I’m out of town all next week,” he said Sunday morning as we lazed in bed.

”Yeah, I know.” I laid my head on his broad chest and he stroked my hair. 

“Won’t be back in L.A. until Saturday night, so I guess we won’t see each other next weekend.” His hand played with my earlobe.

”It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll FaceTime.”

”Not the same,” he said, nibbling on my neck.

I sighed. “No, it’s not, but we’ll see each other the weekend after. You’re driving out, right?”

”If I can,” he said. “No, yeah, definitely. I’ve got a bunch of meetings and shit for the press tour that week but I will make sure I get out there on Friday. Play the entitlement card. ‘I’m Dieter Fucking Bravo. I make my own rules.’”

”Just don’t piss off anybody important,” I said. “I understand if your work messes with our plans. Work has to come first unless it’s an emergency. That’s what my parents always said.”

”Fuck that,” Dieter said vehemently. “People come first. Relationships come first. Work … work is important, but it’s not everything.”

”Okay,” I said carefully. I’d touched a nerve and didn’t want to probe it too much right then. “But I do understand that you have to do stuff for work. So do I.”

He mumbled something I didn’t catch and then distracted me by sliding one hand between my legs while he kissed my collarbone and I stopped thinking rationally for a while.

**************************************************************

[Text message conversation between Dieter and his publicist]

CARMEN: So, I need to know something.

DIETER: What?

C: There’s a weird rumor floating around and I need the truth.

D: Shit, now what?

C: I’ve heard two versions. One is you were injured “in bed” and needed stitches in your backside. The other is you had a fight with your girlfriend, broke some glass and she pushed you onto it, also requiring stitches.

D: Fuck. I did get hurt at Em’s but it wasn’t in bed and we didn’t have a fight. I fell off the fucking bed trying to reach the smoke alarm to change the battery and I broke a lamp. I landed on it and cut my ass cheek. That doctor promised he wouldn’t say anything to anybody.

C: I don’t think it was the doc. This isn’t coming from the public gossip sites; it’s word of mouth rumors in the industry.

D: Probably someone at my agent’s office. I was telling him the story because I had to reschedule a meeting so I could go get the stitches out. So what do we have to do?

C: Nothing. If either rumor breaks containment, we put out a statement clearing things up. Tell what really happened. If not, we ignore it.

D: Does Em know?

C: I haven’t said anything to her. Figured that’s your job.

***************************************************************

“People are saying what?” I was driving home from work when Dieter called and almost swerved off the road.

”One version is you were pegging me and ripped my butthole,” he said. “The other is we had a big fight, I broke some glass, then you pushed me down on it.”

”But … who would believe any of that?”

”Dumbass people,” he said with a sigh. “The shitheads at the gossip websites who would say anything for clicks. Look, I know this is ridiculous, but Carmen has it under control. If anything makes the mainstream, she’ll issue a statement.”

”Holy shit, what if my aunt hears any of this?” My mother’s sister was one of those stick-up-her-bum church lady types, mostly because she’d converted in her early twenties. Converts were the worst. I loved her dearly, but we did not see eye to eye on most aspects of my personal life. She’d already made it very clear to me that she thought I was sinning by engaging in premarital sex.

”It won’t get that far,” Dieter said. “I’ll tell Carmen to get out ahead of it. Get a statement out to the gossip rags. Let them know we’ll sue if they say anything that contradicts it.”

I was almost home. “Deet, how the hell do you live like this?”

”Everyone has rumors told about them,” he said. “I’ll bet your co-workers talk shit about you.”

I had to admit he was probably right. It wasn’t just students who were stuck in the high school paradigm. Any time you trapped a group of people in one place for hours and hours each day, they did what humans had been doing for millennia: they talked. The rumor mill was alive and well on campus, although as adults we were more circumspect than the kids were. 

“I still don’t like it,” I said, pulling up in front of my condo. 

”Nobody likes it, babe,” he said. “It’s one of the prices you pay for fame. And big paychecks.” He sighed. “I need to get back on set. I’ll see you next weekend.”

”See you then,” I said. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying “I love you.” It was a little bit silly, but I had vowed that I wouldn’t say it until Dieter did. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.

******************************************************************

It had been a shitty day. We’d gotten a delivery of over two hundred boxes of math textbooks. Each box held six books and we needed to get them all unpacked, stamped, barcoded and out to students ASAP. The books had been ordered on time and should have arrived in the summer when there had actually been time to process them, but the publisher had screwed up on the first print run and they ended up backordered. I’d been unpacking boxes and stacking books on carts all day and my back was killing me. This work was usually done by volunteers and kids needing community service hours for graduation, but with the kids all in class, it fell to me and the textbook clerk, along with a couple of helpers loaned to us from the front office. All I wanted to do when I got home was take a hot shower, pop a handful of ibuprofen and crash on the couch with my shiatsu massager.

Things weren’t going to be easy until we got the job done, but at least I didn’t have to drive to Hollywood that weekend; it was Dieter’s turn to drive out to my place. I kept telling myself, You just have to make it through two more days.

As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed two things. First of all, Dieter’s bright red Audi was parked in front of my condo. Second of all, Dieter himself was sitting on my front step, reading a book and drinking what looked like a tall glass of my neighbor Mrs. Gutiérrez’s iced tea.

I climbed out of the car. “What are you doing here?”

“My meeting tomorrow got cancelled and I’m free for the rest of the week, so I thought I’d come out early, since I didn’t get to see you last weekend,” he said, setting down his book and glass. He stood up to hug me but I cringed when he did. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, we had a billion books to unpack today and my back is killing me,” I told him. “You should have called me before you drove all this way. I’m not going to be very good company.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Of course, I was halfway here when I realized I was going to get here way before you got home.” He scratched at the back of his ball cap. “Your neighbor was worried about me. She brought me some iced tea so I wouldn’t get too hot.” 

I looked next door and saw Mrs. Gutiérrez peeking out her front window. I waved at her and she gave me a thumbs up. “I need to get you a key,” I said without thinking. Even though we spent the weekend at each other’s homes, we hadn’t exchanged keys yet. It was the next step in our relationship and here I’d jumped into it without discussing it with him.

He smiled. “That would be nice,” he said softly. “We can get a copy of my keys for you while we’re at it.”

I felt my face flush. We’d been dating for almost three months at that point, and I knew he was in it for the long haul, but I still felt a little giddy every time we took a step toward more intimacy, more permanency. And those three little words still loomed unsaid.

“Let’s get inside,” I said. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them. As soon as I started to bend down to pick them up, I knew I’d made a mistake. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Can … can you get those for me?”

He reached down and swept the keys up, his free hand going immediately to my back. He rubbed it as he put the key in the lock. “You really did a number on your back, didn’t you, babe?,” he said, frowning. 

“Yeah,” I admitted. He took my bag from me and ushered me carefully into the house. “Look, all I want to do is eat something, take a mega dose of ibuprofen, and collapse on the couch with my back massager. You don’t have to stay. It’s not like I’m going to be much fun.”

He looked at me as if I was an idiot. “First of all, I’m not driving all the way back to Hollywood just to turn around and drive back the day after tomorrow,” he said. He pushed me gently down onto the couch and sat beside me. “Second of all, I’m not leaving you alone if you’re in pain. And third of all, I’m here to see you, not have fun.”

I raised my eyebrow and he immediately shook his head. “That didn’t come out quite right, but you know what I mean,” he said, sliding his arm around my shoulder and playing with my hair. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He pressed a kiss against my cheek and I relented, laying my head on his shoulder. 

“Okay, but there’s not much you can do except keep me company,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I know about back pain, believe me.”

After making me promise not to move a muscle, he left me on the couch to flip through the channels looking for something to watch (I didn’t have all the streaming services he did, just basic cable, which drove him nuts) while he heated up some leftover pasta I had in my fridge. We ate on the couch, watching reruns of “M*A*S*H”. 

When we were finished, I tried to help him take the dirty plates into the kitchen but my back had stiffened up enough that I only got about two inches off the couch before I froze. “Oh, oh, ouch, ouch,” I whimpered. Dieter pushed me gently back down.

“I got it,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. He took the dishes into the kitchen and detoured to the bathroom to fetch the bottle of ibuprofen. “I didn’t know it came in such big bottles,” he said when he came back. 

“Costco,” I said. “And if you were a woman, you’d buy the industrial size bottle, too.” I opened the top, shook out four pills and popped them in my mouth. “I live on this  stuff one week a month.”

“Okay, time to get you in the shower,” Dieter said. “Some hot water will loosen those muscles a bit.”

He helped me stand up and I headed — slowly — toward the bathroom. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing him off. “I’ve been taking showers for years.” 

I closed the door on him, and turned on the water to give it a chance to heat up before I got in. The moment I stepped into the shower and the hot water hit my back, I let out a little moan. Standing up hurt but the hot water felt incredibly good. I stood with my back to the showerhead, letting the water hit my lower back. I slowly bent forward, gently stretching the muscles as the heat loosened them up a bit.

I’d been in there for about fifteen minutes when there was a knock on the bathroom door. “How’re you doing in there?”

“I’m fine,” I called out. “Just enjoying the hot water.” The door opened and Dieter stepped in. “What are you doing?” My instinct was to cover myself but all I had handy was a washcloth, which wasn’t going to do much good.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “I just wanted to ask if you have any massage oils.”

“Um, no,” I said. We had the shower curtain between us, but it was fairly sheer and it felt very awkward, especially since Dieter was making no effort to avert his eyes.

“Hmm, okay, I’ll see what you have in the kitchen,” he said, turned around and left. I stayed in the shower a few more minutes, then turned the water off, got out, and wrapped myself in a towel.

The door opened again and Dieter whisked me into the bedroom. The bed was turned down and the new lamp on the nightstand was on its lowest setting. Relaxing music was playing on the speaker on my dresser. “Um, sweetie,” I said, “I told you I wasn’t up for much.”

He shook his head. “I know,” he said. “I’m going to give you a massage.” He gestured toward the bed. “Take off that towel and lay face down with your head on the pillows.”

“You just want to look at my ass,” I joked as I followed his directions.

He smacked me lightly on the butt.  “Behave yourself,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind me. He straddled my legs and started lightly prodding my back. “Where does it hurt? Here? Here?” Once he had a good idea of the extent of the affected area, he got up. “Okay, all I could find was olive oil, so if you smell like a salad when we’re done, I’m sorry.” I heard him pour some oil out and rub his hands together to warm it up. 

The bed dipped under his weight again as he resumed his position. His broad hands began to stroke up and down my lower back, his thumbs digging in now and then to work out the tension in the muscles. The oil let his hands glide over my skin and it felt absolutely delicious. “Oh, yeah,” I groaned. “That feels amazing.”

He chuckled. “I like to hear that,” he said. I felt his weight shift as he leaned forward to kiss my shoulder. Then he sat back and continued working on my sore muscles. Soon I was melting into the mattress and I barely noticed when Dieter climbed off the bed, pressing one last kiss to my shoulder. “Get some sleep, babe,” he said softly.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off the next morning. Dieter grunted beside me. “What the hell?”

I slapped the alarm clock to stop the annoying beep. “Go back to sleep,” I told him. “I need to get ready for work.” I started to crawl out of bed but he pulled me back. 

“Call in sick,” he said. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t,” I said, although I was very tempted. My back felt a lot better but it was still a bit stiff. “We have a shit ton of work to do and if I don’t go in, they won’t get a sub to cover for me.” I kissed his forehead and went into the bathroom to start getting ready for work.

Dieter was sound asleep by the time I came out, and I got dressed to the sound of his quiet snores. Before I left, I scribbled a note, which I left on the kitchen table beside my house keys.

“Thanks again for last night. I feel so much better! Leaving my keys so you can go out if you need to, lol. See you when I get home. XOXOXO”

I locked the door from the inside, pulled it shut and headed off for another long day at work.

**********************************

Work was better than the day before, partly because we’d finished most of the heavy lifting already, but mostly because I knew Dieter would be waiting for me at home when I got done. My co-workers made a few comments about what a good mood I seemed to be in, but I didn’t take the bait. It was enough to know he’d be there when I came home; I didn’t need to brag about it.

It felt weird to knock on my own front door when I got home. Dieter opened it a tiny crack. “What’s the password?,” he said, squinting warily at me. 

“Open the damn door,” I said.

“Correct,” he said, opening the door and letting me in. He led me to the couch, where there was a glass of wine waiting for me. As I sat down, he slipped my shoes off and pulled my feet into his lap, massaging them gently. 

“Oh, my,” I said. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?” 

He shrugged. “I just thought you’d probably had a rough day at work again, and I enjoyed taking care of you yesterday.” He dropped my feet and pulled me in for a kiss. “Besides, it was kind of nice playing house husband today.” He winked at me and got up from the couch.

“I changed the sheets on the bed, ran a few errands, and I’m actually cooking dinner,” he said. He came back with a set of keys in his hand. “Here are your house keys back,” he said, dangling them in front of me, “and I added a set to my place.” He dropped the keys into my hand. Two brand new keys were next to my slightly worn ones. I fingered them gently.

“I got copies of yours for me,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind, but you did say I needed them …”

“No, no, thank you,” I said. So it was official. We had full access to each other's homes. I felt a weird fluttery feeling in my stomach and I grabbed his hand, pulling in in to press a kiss to his palm. 

He dropped back onto the couch beside me, humming happily. He caressed my face before leaning in for a lingering kiss. “As much as I enjoy this,” he said when he came up for air, “I need to check on dinner.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen. I picked up my wine glass and followed him. This I had to see.

He was opening the oven to check on whatever was inside, and I caught a glimpse of a plastic tray. “Aha!” I said. “You bought that.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I said I was cooking dinner, not that I made dinner. There’s a semantic difference.” He poured himself a glass of wine and took a drink. “Now get out of the way, because I need to cut up some veggies for the salad.” He pulled several bags out of the fridge and plopped them on the counter. “Do you have a cutting board?”

I pointed at one of the lower cupboards and then stepped back, leaning against the end of the counter to watch. He found the cutting board, selected a knife from the wooden block on the counter and started to work. “Stop watching me,” he said after a few minutes. “I keep waiting for you to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” I said. “I just enjoy seeing this domestic side of you.” He made a face and flipped me off. I shrugged. “You’re the one who said you liked playing house husband.”

He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that,” he admitted. “Now go sit down and wait for me to call you to the table.” He pointed at me with the knife.

I retired to the living room to finish my wine and flip through my mail (which Dieter had helpfully brought in and placed on the coffee table). Nothing of real interest except a 20% off coupon for Kohl’s and a catalog from Daedelus Books. I sat those aside and tossed the rest in my “stuff to be shredded” basket, which was starting to get a bit full. I made a mental note to work on that soon.

I settled back to thumb through the catalog as I sipped my wine and before I knew it, Dieter was in the doorway. “Dinner’s ready, honey!,” he said. He was wearing a stupid frilly apron I kept in a drawer; my aunt had given it to me one year for Christmas and I’d kept it to wear on the rare occasions when I baked.

“You look ridiculous,” I said, giggling. 

He spun around. “You like it? I found it in the drawer when I was looking for a pot holder to get the lasagna out of the oven with.” 

“It’s you,” I said. “But please, take it off, or I won’t be able to eat for laughing.”

He grumbled something about slaving away over a hot stove all day and not getting any respect as he untied the apron, balled it up and tossed it back into the kitchen. Then he pulled my chair out for me and we sat down to eat. Veggie lasagna; a huge salad full of cucumbers, radishes, grape tomatoes, and feta cheese; and a crusty loaf of Italian bread with herbed olive oil for dipping.

“This … this is amazing,” I said, looking around at the food, the wine, the fact that he’d actually gone through my mismatched cutlery drawer and made sure our knives and forks were all the same pattern.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I had fun today.” He pointed at me with his fork. “Just don’t expect this all the time, okay?”

After dinner, he put away the leftovers. “See, I planned ahead,” he told me. “This way we have dinner for tomorrow night all squared away.” He tapped his finger against the side of his head. When he came back out, he had a big bowl of mixed berries and a can of whipped cream.

“Is that dessert or do you have something weird planned for the bedroom?” I teased. 

“Both, if you’re lucky,” he said. He sat the bowl down, took the cap off the whipped cream and squirted a dollop on his finger, then dabbed it on the tip of my nose. He sat the can down in front of me and went back into the kitchen. He came back with two slices of pound cake on saucers. “And you thought I was being kinky,” he said, shaking his head. Then he leaned down and licked the melting whipped cream off my nose.

*****************************

The next morning, Dieter barely stirred when the alarm went off. I slipped out of bed, got dressed and headed off to work, leaving him another note on the table.

“Can’t wait to see what you have planned for tonight. XOXOXO”

Work dragged on and on, as Fridays were wont to do, and of course I got a last minute phone call that kept me a few minutes past quitting time. Finally, I was free for the weekend and hurried home, only to find Dieter’s car gone. Instantly, my heart sank and I chided myself. If he’d had to leave, he would have texted or called me and I had no messages. He must have run to the store or something and just wasn’t back yet.

I went inside, flipped through the mail and poured myself a glass of wine. As I was leaving the kitchen, I heard a key in the lock and the door opened. “Hi, honey, I’m home!” Dieter called out in a cheesy sitcom voice.

“That was supposed to be my line,” I said. 

He had a bag in his hand, which he dropped on the coffee table. “I had to drive further than I thought I would,” he said. He opened the bag and pulled out a bottle. “Actual massage oil,” he said. “So you won’t smell like a salad this time.”

“This time?”

He grinned. “You wanted to know what I had planned for tonight,” he said. “I thought you might like a full body massage.”

“Only if I can return the favor,” I said, taking the bottle from him. “Mmm, lavender and sweet almond oil. That sounds amazing.” I opened the cap and took a sniff. I felt myself relax instantly.

“I’ll give you a massage tonight and you can give me one tomorrow,” he said. “But only if I get a ‘happy ending’.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You are disgusting,” I said. “But don’t worry, you will.” I handed the bottle back to him. “You’ve taken such good care of me, I’m going to spend the weekend taking care of you.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him greedily. I’d been waiting for this moment all day. 

“I’m glad you said that,” Dieter said when we came up for air. “Because I have an idea …”

***************************************************************

I was nervous. Dieter’s idea has sounded good but now that it was time for me to roll over onto my back I wasn’t so sure. Things had started out as a normal massage, just like the night before, but now it was time for the “happy ending” he’d envisioned. The rules were simple: the one being massaged had to simply lie back and enjoy; the one doing the massaging was only able to use their hands (and mouth) to pleasure the other. This meant that I would be completely exposed to Dieter’s view, something that I had mostly avoided so far.

I wasn’t exactly ashamed of my body, but I was self conscious about it. I was an average middle aged woman. Things sagged and bulged after decades of dealing with gravity, I knew that. But Dieter worked in Hollywood. He was surrounded by perfect bodies all the time. 

“Can we turn off the lights?” I suggested when Dieter prodded me to flip over.

”Of course not,” he said. “I have to see what I’m doing.” He flopped down next to me. “I want to see what I’m doing,” he added quietly. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

”First of all, even if I am horny, I’m not getting any tonight because of the rules of the game,” he said. “So let me enjoy what I can. And second of all, looking at you is enjoyable. Thinking about you is enjoyable. Touching you is enjoyable.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Watching you cry out my name is enjoyable. And third of all …” He kissed me deeply. When I was discombobulated enough, he flipped me over onto my back. “That’s better,” he said. Then he proceeded to play the game exceedingly well.

So well that we both won. Three times.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: December 8/23

Happy Friday everyone!! Ahhh I have finally run through all the recent MFLs on my drafted 5FF Post of Johnlock fics, so I need more recommendations! BUT because I don't want to miss a week, I'm pulling some other ships for today, so I hope it's okay!! I hope you guys enjoy this selection of fics to start off the weekend!! Cheers!!

RECENT JOHNLOCK MFL

The Curious Incident of the Detective, the Doctor and the Dogs in the Night by mydogwatson (T, 7,652 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Dogs, First Kiss, Honeymoon) – A meet-cute. Dogs and cases and romance. [TRANSLATION: Русский]

RECENT MYSTRADE MFLs

Old Fashioned by green_violin_bow (E, 90,591 w., 14 Ch. || Mystrade || Post S4, Background Johnlock, Accidental Dating, Fake Relationship, Pining, Sad Wanking, UST / URT, Bed Sharing, BAMF Mycroft, Emotional Freakouts, Blood and Injury, Happy Ending) – “I’m sorry, Sherlock, but I think what you just said is that you’ve been catfishing a murderer online, pretending to be a couple, your brother and I, and now you want us to meet him? A murderer? As a couple!” The last few words are really quite loud, and Rosie makes a startled squeak in the kitchen. Sherlock glares at him. Greg takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” he says, automatically, then – “No – no! Not – not sorry, because – of all the things, Sherlock, that you have ever done, this is undeniably the most – the most utterly – I –” He closes his eyes, fists clenched, and takes several deep breaths. “Overlooking many, many other problems with this entire scenario –” he pauses and takes another breath, “– what on Earth makes you think that, as a couple, a detective and a – a – whatever he is –” he gestures wildly at Mycroft – “would put themselves online on a dating site?”

Excultus by Mottlemoth (E, 314,721 w., 68 Ch. || Mystrade Supernatural / Sci-Fi AU || Action/Adventure, Future Setting, Hurt/Comfort, Vampires, Werewolves, Gothic Literature, Vampire Mycroft, Protective Greg, Suspense, Rampant Feelings, Happy Ending) – 23rd-century London is a divided city. Two hundred years of genetic tampering has fractured humanity into subspecies, not all of whom are willing to get along. The capital's crime-ridden streets are now home to some fairly fantastic variants of human—some of them more dangerous than others. For DI Greg Lestrade, Cross-Human Relations at Scotland Yard, it's all just part of the day job. But when a horrifying discovery forces him to seek the help of Mycroft Holmes, Head of Criminal Psychology, Greg might just be tested past his limits. Mycroft is unpleasant, unforgiving, and famously impossible to please—but if Greg needs anyone right now, it's a vampire expert. With dangerous forces fast on their tail, Greg and Mycroft must work together to avert the vampire threat before it's too late.

Marmalade Series by HastaLux & Mottlemoth(E, 389,103 w. across 4 works || Mystrade || Alternate First Meeting, Fluff and Smut, Cat Café, Feline Matchmaking, BAMF Anthea, Divorced Greg, Alternating POV, Strangers to Lovers, Protective/Confident Mycroft, Vulnerable Greg, Angst with Happy Ending) – Divorce wasn't easy on Greg Lestrade - then again, marriage wasn't either. Lonely in his new life, he takes comfort in a local cat café. Soon he has a pawprint in his heart. For Mycroft, work and his younger brother were always his two priorities in life. Sex is one thing; company is another matter entirely. Straying into a café one day, he meets somebody rather special. Little does he know what Marmalade has in store for them both.

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED LOKIUS FIC

how's that for glorious purpose? by unintentionallyangsty (T, 3,081 w., 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Lokius, Post-S2, S02E06 Fix It, Romance & Drama, Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Crying, Reunion, Touch Starvation, Soft Mobius, Hugs, Both Need a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Hopeful / Ambiguous / Open Ending, Anxiety, Made Me Cry, Forehead Kisses, Soft Loki, Love Confessions, Friendship/Love) – A Loki is left alone without his Mobius. Mobius finds himself completely alone and purposeless without his Loki. Realistically, how long can it last? (Or; directly after Sylvie reveals the reality of Mobius' previous life on the timeline to him, Loki finds a way to return).

[asexualjedi]

Everytime I sit down to work on my law school app soemthing comes up I’m really gonna have to baraccade myself in my room sometime and have someone else watch the dog/time it perfectly so I’ve played with her enough she’ll sleep for a few hours and get most of this done in one sitting bc trying to do it over time is not going great.

[muddyorbsblr]

a heart like yours part 6: a search for honesty

Masterlist

Summary: The curse is broken, but you're alone. So…who woke you? You try to find out.

Pairing: Loki x Reader; Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: mild angst, idiots in love [let me know if i missed anything!]

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was that you were alone. And then you felt the sensors on your temples and you made quick work of taking them off of you. 

"FRIDAY?" you said into the empty room.

"Yes, Agent Y/L/N? And might I say I am glad to see you awake."

"What day is it? And time?"

"It's 5:37 in the morning, and it is currently Tuesday, the 27th."

"How did I get here?"

"You were brought in here via the Quinjet approximately 22 hours ago, along with the Sin Healer who is currently situated in one of our magic dampened holding cells. Shall I inform Doctor Banner that you are awake?"

"I uhh—sure, FRIDAY. But just Banner for now. I don't have it in me to face the rest of them yet. Thanks." 

"Very well, Agent Y/L/N. I shall also inform Doctor Banner of your request for privacy. He should be here to meet you in a few moments. Welcome back." 

While waiting for Bruce, you looked around the room, trying desperately to find some clue left behind by the one who woke you and found nothing. You clutched the blanket draped over you, wincing in confusion as you felt the silken material. Now I know even Stark wouldn't shell out the budget for silk blankets in the fucking medical wing. "FRIDAY, turn the lights on at 30%, will you? Thanks." 

When the room was softly illuminated enough for you to see, your eyes teared up at the sight of the emerald green silk you'd more than once been wrapped in when you fell asleep in the common areas of the Tower. Loki's cape. 

"He said you were cold to the touch," Bruce said from the door. You hadn't even noticed he already arrived. "Of course you were next to dead so that was expected." He walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's good to see you awake, Y/N." 

"It's good to be awake." You offered the scientist a small smile. "You have any idea who woke me?" 

"I have my ideas but I'll keep it to myself." You threw him a look in disbelief. "Look if it is who I think it is, then they should tell you in person." 

"You don't think it's Steve, either, do you?" 

"Nah. The man tried so many times today and got nothing. Things in here got so heated we almost had a Steve-shaped hole in the glass there." He pointed at the glass wall to your right. "Laufeyson almost went full frost giant on his--"

"Hold on. Loki? He was going blue?" Impossible. He couldn't have. Not over this.

"Oh yeah. Kept going on about how you were lost to them and it was all Steve's fault because he didn't love you enough to break your curse. Really felt sorry for the guy, you know? He carried you in here from the Quinjet and when we found him he was on his knees, Y/N. He kept telling you that things were gonna be fine, Steve would wake you, things would go back to how they were. So you can imagine the hinges on him coming loose when you didn't wake up."

"Bruce that doesn't make any sense." 

"The guy was mourning you, Y/N. We all were. None of us were making sense," Bruce reasoned. Though something in you felt as if he was keeping something from you. "He'll be fucking insane once he finds out you're awake. He might not ever leave your side again. You wanna call him down here?" Okay that really made no sense. Sure he was always a tad protective with you when you were out on missions together, but that level of attachment? That implied something else.  Something you didn't want to even consider with how absolutely batshit the notion was to you.

"No not yet. Someone I gotta talk to first." You took a breath. "FRIDAY? Could you call Steve. Just Steve. And tell him to meet Dr Banner down here, please? Don't tell him I'm awake." 

Bruce turned to you with a confused look. 

"I need to see something," you explained. "That's all." 

"Just make sure you  know what you're doing, Y/N."

You gave him as much of a reassuring smile as you could. "All I'm doing right now is trying to find out who woke me. And maybe putting my life into order. That's all." 

The second Steve walked in to the room you knew. It was written all over his face: the shock, the disbelief, and then ultimately the relief. "Cou--Y/N." His backpedaling on the awful nickname took you aback. "Baby, you're awake." He strode over to you and wrapped you in his arms.

"So you finally listened about that horrendous name," you teased. "Who knew all it took was getting cursed and facing nearly certain death?" 

"Sweetheart it's too early to make jokes about that," he nearly scolded you. "I couldn't sleep. I looked all over my apartment and all I could see was you. Y/N I'm so sorry." 

"I'm sorry, too," you answered. "Steve. Baby we should talk." 

He pulled away from you and looked into your eyes. "It's over, isn't it?" 

You grimaced in response. "Yeah, it's over. When you realize that your love isn't enough to break a curse that literally only requires that whole-hearted kind of love, it really puts things into perspective, you know?" It was his turn to wince at your words now. "Look, I think when we started this whole thing, a part of me always knew that I wasn't going to be…the woman you loved. I think when we got together, we just didn't…we didn't want to be alone." 

"Y/N you need to know that I did love you--"

"I know. And I loved you. And I will always love you, just…I suppose this is my shitty way of saying that I'm pretty sure that if the roles were reversed? If you were the one that got cursed? I wouldn't be able to break it, either. You love Peggy, you're always gonna love Peggy more than anyone. And you deserve to be with someone that you can love more than you loved her; that woman isn't me. As for me? You're not that guy for me, either." 

A sad smile crossed his face.  "Laufeyson?" You nodded. 

"Stupid pathetic little mortal, right?" you joked, motioning to yourself. 

"I wouldn't be too sure, Y/N. He had his moments ever since he found you that had me thinking maybe he could break your curse." 

"Hold on. Say that again? Loki found me?" 

He nodded. "Yeah. I walked into the cottage once you reached out to us on comms and he was already there, on his knees, holding you in his arms. Didn't let you go once in the eight hours we flew from Sorsogon back here. Refused to." 

You shook your head at him. "Steve that's impossible." 

"Look I'm just telling you what I saw. And what I saw was a guy on his last shred of sanity, pushing me into a glass wall and blaming me for your death going 'She's gone I'll never see her again'." 

You  kept shaking your head at him. "Look, can we change subject here? It's--I can't wrap my head around it. At least not on a stomach that's been empty for over 24 hours." 

"Crap. Okay we could tell the rest of the team and then we can get breakfast, okay?"

He stood up and looked like he was about to start knocking down doors at this ungodly hour, but you grabbed hold of his arm to stop him. "Actually…could you call in a meeting? Don't tell them what it's about, I don't care what you tell them just don't mention that I'm awake." 

"Why Agent Y/L/N, are you scheming?" The tone in his voice told you he was definitely on board with whatever you had in mind. "Before I do, what exactly are you trying to achieve?" 

"I wanna know who woke me. And people's reactions when they're in shock usually give them away. Assuming, of course, that their poker face is as shitty as yours." 

He broke out into a laugh and pulled you into another embrace. It would take time, but this moment told you everything you needed to know. You two would be just fine moving forward. "It's good to have you back, Y/N." 

"Cap, why the hell did you wake us all up at this hour of the day?" Stark fumed at the captain. "Some of us have only started to sleep. I had to keep lulling my daughter back to sleep because she kept on waking up in tears and shouting that Auntie Y/N was gone forever." 

"And some of us haven't even slept yet," Natasha grumbled, pointing a finger between her and Wanda. "We lost our best friend." Then she threw a look at Loki. "Some of us lost more than that." 

The captain then threw a look his way, making him exasperated. "Look, Captain Rogers, I apologize for throwing you into that wall, but I do not apologize for my words. As of this moment, Y/N remains unconscious and--"

His words were cut off by the sound of the door opening and your voice floating in. "Morning." When his gaze landed on you, the relief that washed over him nearly compelled him to walk over to you, pull you into his arms and hold on to you for the rest of his days. 

The opportunity was lost when your friends pulled you into their arms, weeping and peppering your temples and cheeks with kisses. He watched as you pulled away from them and took a good thorough look at what they'd become since you fell victim to the curse. "You two look like shit." They shrugged at you. "It wasn't either of you, was it? Neither of you even tried kissing me and seeing what would happen?" 

"Oh no I tried," Wanda answered you. "I tried real hard. With tongue, too."

That caused you to burst out into a fit of laughter that nearly made his heart ache with elation. He'd laid in bed just a few hours earlier grieving you, believing that he'd never hear that laugh again, and now here you were smiling at laughing at your friends' absurdities. 

"Wan, I wasn't ready!" you said through your giggles. 

"I know, but I couldn't resist. And also I'm a bit drunk. Natasha broke out the good stuff from Tony's staaaaa--I mean she brought out the good vodka." A sheepish look appeared on her face as Stark began to glare at her and the Russian spy. 

"But honestly though, doll face, how are you even awake? I thought this punk over here tried and failed." Barnes pointed at your lover and looked at you, confused. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're alive, but I'm also…shocked? Confused? If it wasn't Steve…who?" 

"That's what I wanna know, too, Bucky," you answered him, looking around the room and looking everyone in the eyes. "Any of you wanna admit you've been secretly in love with me all this time? Speak now or forever hold your peace and all that." When your eyes met his, he could nearly hear his pulse in his ears as he tried to keep his expression stoic. He couldn't bear it if you were to figure out that it was him, and he would have to see the horror and rejection set in to your gaze. That would end him where he stood.

"How positive are you that it wasn't a last ditch attempt by Capsicle over there that finally took?" Stark asked you. 

You looked at Stark, and then at Rogers, with eyes that looked almost regretful. "I knew that Steve would attempt. I mean, he was my boyfriend and--"

"Was??" Natasha and Wanda shrieked. 

"Yeah…we uhh…it's over. We ended things before he called you all down here." The sad nostalgic eyes stayed as you kept on. "When you realize that your love isn't the ancient curse-breaking type of love, it kinda makes you realize that it's not the right love, you know?" 

There was such silence for a good few moments before Thor spoke up. "Well then, this is a cause for celebration. Y/N is alive and well, the Sin Healer has been apprehended, and we no longer have to hear our friend being compared to a cushioned sitting ornament for the rest of all time." Everyone chuckled at his words, even Loki. "Shall we eat? I'm famished!" 

"Says the god munching on a pop tart to the woman who's gone without food for nearly 40 hours," you shot back at him, the comical timing of your stomach grumbling making everyone double over in laughter. 

Everyone filed out one by one, taking their time to embrace you or ruffle your hair, essentially show you a form of affection. When Stark got to you, he suggested that you be the one to wake up his daughter, that she would be over the moon if she woke up and you were already there, ready to bring her along to breakfast. When your former lover got to you, he held you in an almost somber embrace and you briefly discussed something about retrieving one another's belongings from your apartments.

By the time it had only been him left, you gave him a soft smile before turning toward the door. "Y/N," he called out, stopping you from moving an inch. When he made his way to you, there was his best attempt at a playful grin on his face. "Do I not get an embrace?" 

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. The same ones he'd kissed possibly just moments before you awoke. Could it be? Could he have--?

Quite possibly. 

"I know you're not one for…sentiment. Or affection, so I figured I'd spare you the--" He cut off your words by pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. 

"Today is an exception, darling," he whispered into your hair. "You've no idea how glad I am that you're alive." He resisted the urge to press a kiss to your temple, your cheeks, any place his lips could touch, really. He didn't want to risk you recoiling from him. 

"You don't happen to know who woke me, do you?" 

I did, he wanted to tell you. Instead he did what those around you thought he did best. He lied. "Sorry, darling, I don't. I would assume you'd wish to thank them. I wish I could be of more assistance." 

"That's alright. If the curiosity consumes me, I can always ask FRIDAY," you said casually as you pulled away from him. He did everything in his power to not show the panic setting in. "I mean, I set up the security system there myself, so really if I wanted to know so desperately, which at the moment I don't I'm still just glad to be awake again, all I have to do is ask." 

If Loki's blood could go cold, it would have. 

A/N: Everybody let's give it up for the end of an era. We never have to see that nickname again lol.

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @redbluekjw @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14

a heart like yours: @huntress-artemiss @hotleaf-juice @clockblobber @sititran @taro-gabi @wolfsmom1 @rmoonstoner @ladymischief11 @anonymousewrites @unlucky-number-13 @moonlightreader649 @ahoytherebean @javagirl328

[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[hannigramficrecs]

Newly Added Fics 5/16

Hello everyone, sorry again for the slight hiatus! I’ve replied to all the messages in my inbox (at least the ones that were sent to me before this past friday), so if you asked me something before that, be sure to check out my replies!

As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.

Looks Like Love by luvkurai [words: 5,987] — (AU)

After his sister's wedding, Will kisses his childhood housekeeper (and first love).

Betrothed by slashyrogue [words: 3,932] — (AU)

In one month he would marry a total stranger.

Titan Arum by ProxyOne [words: 64,614] — (AU)

Will is a botanist, working in the greenhouse of the local Botanical Gardens. He is getting his life back on track after his divorce, but he can't help but notice someone who keeps coming back to his greenhouse to draw, day after day. A man who seems to have been paying very close attention to him...

Find Me In The Dark by Rising_Phoenix [words: 40,131] — (AU)

After a fateful accident, the marriage of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter has reached its end. Grief and the inability to stop them from falling apart has brought an irreconcilable distance between the formerly deeply devoted couple. While Hannibal is apathetic towards his husband, ignores him, and is withdrawn, Will has started an affair with fellow teacher Francis and drowns his desperation in more and more alcohol. 

Light of All Lights by whiskeyandspite [words: 20,377] — (AU)

Dracula-like fic without any of the vampires

The Stage Just For You by CarnivalMirai [words: 6,494] — (AU + Age Gap)

Will has landed himself the role of Odette for world-famous choreographer Hannibal Lecter's rendition of The Swan Lake.

There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639] — (A/B/O)

In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.

Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164] — (A/B/O)

Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.

Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207] — (A/B/O + PWP)

“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.

I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116] — (A/B/O + AU)

Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.

A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379] — (A/B/O + AU)

Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.

We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260] — (A/B/O + Age Gap)

Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.

The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7 — (A/B/O + PWP)

Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."

Teenage Wildlife by writtenbyizzy [words: 10,163] — (Age Gap + Sugar Daddy)

While reluctantly prowling Grindr for a sugar daddy to pay for his dog Bean's vet bills Will comes across Hannibal, and gets far more than he bargained for.

Just As Poised As I Remember by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,721] — (Age Gap + School)

When Will was in high school he had an incredibly handsome psychology teacher-- tall and sharp with a thick European accent. And now, a decade later, said psychology teacher-turned psychiatrist... just swiped right on him.

We Can Chase the Dark Together by K_R_Closson [words: 16,615] — (Fantasy)

Will tips him and Hannibal off the cliff. Instead of hitting the water, he wakes up in his bed, several years in the past. His first, and only, priority is to find Hannibal again.

We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater [words: 88,150] — (Fantasy)

Will remembers falling. He wakes up months before Jack got him to work for him. Months before he met Hannibal for the first time. Free from his past he decides to change events and meet Hannibal again.

My Only Constant Is You by TheSilverQueen [words: 25,369] — (Fantasy)

Hannibal Lecter is an immortal who can never die. Will Graham is a time traveler who can never stay in one place. Perhaps that is why they are perfect for each other.

Motinos Kalba by Lyla_Joy [words: 6,040] — (Fluff)

Five times Hannibal Lecter spoke Lithuanian on accident and one time he meant too.

You Make Me Feel (Good) by sourweather [words: 7,190] — (Fluff)

Will Graham has sensory issues. The world gets too loud, he gets overstimulated easily, but most of all he hates being touched. He never expected someone to work so hard to make him comfortable, to be so patient with him.

Pick Me Up by sourweather [words: 6,053] — (Fluff)

Will doesn't go to bars much. He doesn't end up needing a ride home much. But when he does get drunk, he always wants to ask Hannibal to pick him up.

Hard to Get by JSinister32 [words: 5,561] — (Jealousy)

Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?

Polar Opposites by Lyla_Joy [words: 19,513] — (Kidnapping)

“Says the cannibalistic serial killer who knocked me out and is now holding me hostage,” sassed Will. The Ripper didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled in the corner. “Please call me Hannibal.”

Fate Is A Keen-Eyed Hound by LydiaFearing [words: 5,890] — (Mischa)

Hannibal may be a successful, charming psychiatrist but Mischa worries that her brother is lonely so she gifts him a puppy. Hannibal reluctantly falls for his little dog but wants to get involved with time-consuming FBI work and not just anyone can be allowed to look after his pet. Luckily, Alana can recommend a boarding kennel in Wolf Trap.

The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431] — (Murder Husbands)

After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.

Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347] — (Murder Husbands)

In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

Arriving at the Crossroads by HigherMagic [words: 7,558] — (Mpreg)

"You haven't been my psychiatrist for a long time," Will echoes. "But you've been my friend. You've helped me. With…" He gestures vaguely to his head. "When my brain was on fire. On consults. When it's dark and I need a guiding light." "It pleases me very greatly to be a source of comfort and reassurance for you, Will," Hannibal says. "I have wanted to be that for you, for a long time."

The Hanged Man by justhavesex [words: 13,076] — (Mpreg)

Will Graham had never wanted children before, but he had never considered it to be a consequence of his omegan brain not finding anyone worthy, but the moment he had met Hannibal Lecter he had been filled with want. In which a dinner party one-night stand results in a pregnancy that changes Will's entire life.

I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 4,328] — (PWP)

The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude. “So, what, you’re my daddy?”

A Bad Combination In The Dark by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 1,957] — (PWP)

When a nerve wracked Will Graham accidentally cuts his hand on Dr. Lecter's letter opener, things quickly get out of control.

The Best Bait by sourweather [words: 3,327] — (PWP)

Will is a good fisherman, he knows which bait to use for his catch. Will seduces Hannibal at a party by being sexy.

Whimsy by justheretoreadhannibalfics [words: 3,001] — (School)

Doctor Hannibal Lecter is standing in as a teacher while Professor Graham is out of town on a case. The students start to kind of like him, and become very invested in his love life.

Callipygian by ProxyOne [words: 2,260] — (Season 1)

Hannibal has a lot of sketches of Will, which he normally keeps safely away. One day though, Will shows up unexpectedly and Hannibal is caught unawares, and unprepared.

L'appel Du Vide by sourweather [words: 5,413] — (Season 1)

Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.

Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal by LadyFelixTristis [words: 5,041] — (Season 1)

Ear? What ear? Will Graham doesn’t try to thwart Hannibal Lecter’s plans for him. He just does. By accident. And then on purpose.

For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212] — (Season 2)

After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace

Letters to God by CarnivalMirai [words: 4,698] — (Season 3+)

Will writes letters to Hannibal every day after his incarceration. But they never make it.

Blankets, Coffee Cups, and Christmas Morning by sourweather [words: 6,352] — (Season 3+)

Hannibal wants to enjoy the domesticity. The love, the closeness, the being Known. But something about his life with Will makes him want to lash out.

All These Fictionary Tales by ProxyOne [words: 18,492] — (Season 3+)

After the fall, Hannibal is presumed dead. Will has been declared dead. But Will isn't willing to believe that Hannibal would just abandon him like that 

Seduction by BloodunderMoonlight [words: 7,086] — (Season 3+)

“For fuck’s sake, Hannibal.” Will glared at him, brimming with wrath he had only seen behind Will’s gun. He had no doubt Will would draw out a knife from beneath the duvet or pillows, but clearly words were enough to make him gobsmacked—“Are you a fucking virgin or monk? If all these can’t get you to bed then I don’t know what can.” Hannibal stood gaping at Will.

Blood, Cedar and Dog Hair by sourweather [words: 3,351] — (Season 3+)

Something terrible happens while Hannibal is in prison. Something he never prepared for.

Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] — (Soulmates)

The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.

Karoliai by slashyrogue [words: 4,577] — (Sugar Daddy)

Will works at a jewelry store. He has worked there for three months and sold less than any other person there. His boss tells him to sell something by the end of the day or he may not have a job tomorrow. If there was one thing Will hated more than having to talk people into buying jewelry they didn’t need, it was trying to do it two days before Valentine’s Day.

[mxchellesworld]

Get with me

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; in which you get two sets of news and a happy ending 

warnings; mentions of cheating, pregnancy scares, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (im sorry lmao), praise

pt 2 of ysbuwybf

a/n; patting myself on the back for not bailing on fic requests lmaoo anyways yall were so outa pocket with ideas, all i wanna say is that i am respecting our sweet prince anderson and letting him down gently (i’m writing this before the fic so i could completely switch it up) see end notes for final thoughts :)

hope you enjoy!

*also pls don’t cheat its so icky and a horrible thing to do

***

If your suspicions were correct you were fucked. Part of you would be ecstatic no doubt about it. But if things were true then you were utterly surly fucked. 

Your period was late. 

Which meant either one; your birth control was acting up or two; you were pregnant. 

However being pregnant wasn’t a bad thing, far from it. The bad thing was that there were two candidates in the running to be the father. Your boyfriend, Agent Anderson who was nothing but a sweetheart even though he was about as exciting as a wet paper bag. 

Or Dr.Spencer Reid. Your best friend who you had also been sleeping with outside of your relationship. The best man you’d ever known who was also aching to become a father some day. 

For a week you had been avoiding both of them in the office. Unfortunately for you there were no cases. While yes a lack of serial killing was always a plus it also meant you were stuck in the same building as them for give or take eight hours a day. 

For days on end you stuck in your earbuds and kept your head down while doing paperwork trying to ignore both sets of eyes which would look over to you every once in a while. 

Were you even pregnant, was the biggest question. So you had decided that it was time to get your shit together. At lunch on Monday you had made a quick doctors appointment and went on your way. The little old nurse had told you she would call you in a few days with results. 

In that time you had gone over every possible scenario or possibility. Who would you tell first? How would you even bring it up? Would Anderson hate you for cheating? Would Spencer be upset that the baby isn’t his? It would be like another JJ situation for him. 

The thoughts plagued your mind throughout the week and the more you thought about it the more you thought about who you would have preferred to be the father of your child. Which then led to the guilt of picking and the realization that you in fact would have to break up with Anderson. 

If the child did end up being his you would have to make it work, however you knew it was time to come clean and apologize for going behind his back. He deserved to know the truth. 

Deep in your thoughts you barley heard your phone ringing. It was now Friday and you weren’t expecting any other calls besides the one from your doctor. You looked around and made sure no one was paying attention before you clicked the green button. 

“Hello?” 

You heard the voice of the nurse on the line, she sounded almost sad, “Hello am I speaking with Y/n Y/l/n?”

“Yeah this is her,” you said dryly. Your nerves were eating at you. 

“Oh sweetie I’m calling with the results of your test. It turns out that you are not pregnant at this time honey.” 

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you held in. It felt as is a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

“Oh, um thank you for informing me,” you said looking down at your nails. 

“Of course. If you have anymore questions you can call back at this number or come in and set up another appointment. Have a good rest of your day.” 

With that the line cut off and you fell back into your chair. Your hand subtly moved onto your stomach. Huh. You didn’t think that would be as hard to hear. 

“Y/n?” a voice called from behind you. 

“Oh hey Andy. Whats up?” you said putting a smile on your face. 

He combed a hand through his hair before he sat at the corner of your desk, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I think it’s best if I say it clearly and honestly.” 

Your brows furrowed. Oh shit did he already know? You had to stay calm. 

“Yeah go ahead.”

“I think we should break up. It’s not you, I think we’re just missing a spark. At first it was fun but I don’t think this is gonna work anymore.”

Pot meet kettle, you thought. 

“Plus I think Charlotte from Cyber Crimes is into me so yeah,” he trailed off. 

You bit your lip to try and hide the laugh you wanted to let out. This was an unseen turn of events. “Yeah I get it. But hey no hard feelings. Go for it with Lotte, she’s a total sweetheart.”

“Thanks Y/n/n,” he said leaning down to give you half hug then gingerly turned and walked away. 

Behind you Spencer couldn’t help but listen to the whole interaction. Once he saw Anderson reach the elevator he got up and made his way over to your desk. 

You looked up and saw the small smile on his face, “Is it party at Y/n’s desk today?” you asked causing him to giggle. 

“I think the news I just heard calls for celebration in the best way we know don’t you think,” he said looking around the bullpen nodding his head towards the hallway which was home to the spacious supply closet. 

You looked around and made sure no one was looking. Emily and JJ were gone in Garcia’s lair. Derek was gone visiting his mom and the dads of the BAU were in a meeting. 

“Lead the way doctor,” you said standing getting up form your chair. 

Once in the closet Spencer wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He sighed at the taste of your cherry chapstick. You put your hands on his face pulling him down but while you were savoring the taste of his lips your mind couldn’t help but go back. 

You could have been a mom. Spencer felt your lips slow down instead of returning the passion and stepped away. 

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said looking up at him.

He tried to hide the look of worry on his features but you could see right through him as he nodded for you to continue. 

“Well earlier this week I uh was supposed to start my period but I didn’t,”

“Y/n-” he tried to cut you off but you put your hand up for him to let you finish. 

“I went to the doctors and got a test done. Before Anderson came over I got the call and I’m not. Which is good right? It saved everyone a world of hurt and drama. I don’t know I just thought you should know.” 

“Did you wanna be?”

“What?”

“Pregnant,” he said gripping your hips and pulling you closer. 

You felt your cheeks get hot at what he was insinuating, “Well- I- yeah. I mean yeah, yes.”

With that he brought his lips back down to yours. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. One of his hands slid to the back of your skirt and pulled down the zipper. You let it slide down your legs and stepped out of it. 

You sat on the table in the room, pushing off the bottles of cleaner. Spencer stepped into the space between your legs, his fingers reaching for your panties and tugging them down your legs. 

“I can’t believe I get this tight little pussy all to myself now,” he said biting marks onto your neck. You mewled tilting your head to the side and pulling on his tie. 

“Spencer please. I need you so bad,” you whined out. 

He stepped away and hastily started on undoing his pants, “What do you want baby? Is it for me to fuck you? Or is that not enough? Do you need me to fill you up with my cum? Want me to put a baby in you?” 

You moaned at his lewd words and quickly nodded your head. Your hand flew down to your pussy, you were practically dripping onto the table and he had barley touched you. 

“Please doctor I need you so bad.” 

Spencer quickly stepped into the space again and took both of your hands in one of his large ones, “I own this pussy. I always have, you don’t get to touch without my permission,” he gritted out. 

With his free hand he tugged on his cock before aligning it with your leaking slit. The both of you sighed as he pushed in inch by inch. Your head feel back with your mouth open in a perfect O shape. 

After a second of letting you adjust Spencer started with rough thrusts. You could feel your hair start sticking on your forehead from the heat of the room. Spencer’s lips were inches from yours, sharing the same breath. 

“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up so good. Let everyone here know you’re mine.”

All you could do was nod and moan in approval. His grip on you was deadly but it was just adding onto the immense pleasure you were feeling. The way he was repeatedly hitting your gpot had your vision blurry with stars. You could also feel him pulsing inside you knowing he was close to his peak. 

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart. So perfect around my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, “I want you to cum in me Spence. I need to feel it,” you mewled into his lips. 

This motivated him to start drilling into you. At this point you were panting, aching to feel the sweet release. His hand dipped down to rub on your clit, he groaned at the slippery mess where you both met. 

“Oh god Spence!” 

A high pitched moan escaped your lips as he added on the extra pleasure. Soon enough you were squeeing around him, ready to milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it baby. Keep doing that. I’m gonna stuff you with my cum y/n/n fuck,” he said drawing out the last syllable as he exploded inside you. 

He stayed inside as you both caught your breathes, slowly thrusting trying to fill you to the brim. 

He pulled out and looked for a roll of paper towels for you to clean up. Once that was done you helped each other tame your hair and outfits as you always did, with quiet and loving gazes. 

“Do you think that one did the job?” you said with a smirk. 

“Well statistically the pill contraceptive has a 7% failure rate so with my calculations there is a chance,” he said while smoothing down your hair. 

“Thanks genius,” you said lightly punching his arm, “Lets get out of here. Together.” 

“Together,” he said slinging an arm around your shoulders. 

a/n; so guys what do we think. im not gonna lie i kinda hate it but i think it was a good ending for everyone. kinda feel bad anderson didn’t get the whole truth but the cheating is OVER! also what did we think of what pregnancy scare?? let me know lovies!!!

[bi-bard]

Life on Stage - Sam Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Life On Stage

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Requested: by an anonymous reader

Word Count: 1,139 words

Warning(s): mentions of John Winchester

Summary: (Pre-Show) Sam wanted to be normal, so he decided to audition for a play at one of the many high schools he went to. Through that, he found someone to help him... truly help him.

Author's Note: I remember this distinctly because why did they just casually mention that Sam was a part of theatre and then just never talk about it again? I like to think it was his attempt to rebel and live a "normal life" before he could actually leave his dad.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

---------------------------------------

I took a deep breath before walking over to Sam, the boy who had been cast opposite me in Our Town. He seemed sweet, a little closed off, but sweet nonetheless.

"Umm, hi," I said awkwardly.

Yeah, 16, not a great age for my self-esteem so it's not easy for me to talk to someone that I perceived as cute.

"Hi," he smiled at me, making my heart beat out of my chest.

"I just... Sorry... I thought I'd properly introduce myself since we're gonna be seeing each other a lot," I explained. "Plus, I know you're new so it'd probably be nice to have a friend... or just someone to talk to, y'know?"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied. "Well, I'm Sam."

"(Y/n)," I grinned, shaking his hand. "So, I don't know if you're busy or not but there's this diner that a lot of kids hang out at. Do you wanna go? We can talk about the school or the show or... anything?"

Jesus Christ, I'm an absolute mess. He probably was scared of me.

"Sure," he nodded. "That sounds great."

"Cool," I said. It was a Friday, so that's why I was offering it. "Umm... wanna go now?"

"I was hoping," he replied.

"Right, right, duh," I chuckled. I turned around, leading him out of the auditorium and through the halls. I felt like an absolute idiot.

We walked through the front door. There was an impala waiting there, rock music blaring from its speakers. I looked over when I heard Sam sigh.

"My brother," he explained quickly. "Just... Give a second and then we can go."

He jogged over to the car, leaning into the passenger window to talk to his brother. After a minute, he took a few steps back and his brother drove off.

"Sorry, had to tell him he didn't need to drive me home," he said. I nodded, saying that it was okay. "Where's your car?"

"Oh, I don't drive to school," I shrugged. "Everything is pretty close by."

Sam nodded.

"Come on," I said before starting the walk to the diner.

We spent the afternoon in a booth together. We ate and talked. He told me about how his family moved around a lot, how his brother and dad weren't excited about his role in the play, and how his mom died when he was just a baby.

I shared my family's story with him. The same small town my whole life, my dream to pursue acting, and always feeling the need to be the top in class so I could live up to my parents' standards.

After our afternoon together, Sam offered to walk me home.

As we walked down the road, still talking about anything and everything, I slowly reached over and brushed my hand against his. When he didn't pull away, I intertwined our fingers completely.

We looked at each other before both blushing and looking away.

We got to my gate and I went to walk inside, saying a quick goodbye. I stopped a few steps from my gate. He hadn't gotten far.

"Sam," I called, walking back over.

He looked back at me, meeting me at the gate.

I leaned up and pressed my lips to his gently. He slowly kissed me back, touching my waist gently. It was like he was scared I would break. Like he was scared he was going to break me.

I pulled away after a minute and basically whispered against his lips, "Break a leg at rehearsal tomorrow."

Sam chuckled, looking away and blushing, "You too."

I walked away again, turning back to wave at him before I went inside. I looked out my living room window, chuckling at the sight of Sam silently celebrating outside my gate.

--time skip--

"I don't think they're gonna come," Sam muttered.

Over the rest of rehearsals, Sam and I had a classic high school romance. Innocent and sweet and a dream come true. I tried to encourage him, slowly getting him to open up to me and tried to tell him that his dad and brother might come to the show.

I wanted to believe that they'd care about something Sam thought was important. Dean seemed to care so much for his brother, I was sure he'd care.

"It's okay," I wrapped my arms around him. "I'll treat you to dinner after the show, okay? Somewhere nice. My parents have a reservation and are already set on meeting you anyway."

"Okay," Sam nodded. He kissed my head. "We need to get ready."

I nodded, kissing his cheek, "Break a leg."

"Break a leg," he replied.

After the show, Sam was about to go get as cleaned up as possible. Stage make-up was impossible to get off on the first night but he was gonna try.

"(Y/n)," he said, causing me to stop before I went to change. He pointed at the bouquet sitting on his table. "You didn't have to do that."

I looked at them. It wasn't a super small bouquet but they didn't look store-bought. They looked like the flowers were from someone's garden and then tied together with string. I smiled.

"Sam, those aren't the ones I bought," I said. "I bought some. My parents were gonna give them to you. Those aren't them."

"What," he asked.

I walked over, there was a slip of paper in the string, "Sam."

He grabbed the note, "Good job tonight, Sammy. Probably will get you an Oscar. - Dean."

I wrapped my arms around him. He looked so happy knowing that his brother had been there for him.

"I told you he'd show," I mumbled. He chuckled. I looked up, seeing tears in his eyes. "Sam?"

"I... I didn't think he cared," he said. "It's just... It's nice to know that there are other things on his mind than the family business."

I leaned up, kissing his cheek, "Maybe if you can find him, we can drag him to dinner with my parents."

"I'll... I'll try."

"Okay."

I finished getting changed and cleaned up. I walked out to see my parents waiting for me. I saw Sam in the corner, holding the flowers his brother had gotten. His brother was standing in front of him.

Finally, I saw both of them start walking back. I happily waved at Sam.

"So, is your brother joining us," my mom asked Sam.

"If you'll let me," Dean replied. My parents nodded.

"Thank you," Sam said to his brother.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dean tried to shrug off the whole event, but you could the genuine smile on his face.

He was happy that Sam was happy... even if their dad didn't have the nerve to be there.

In a matter of minutes, I grew to admire Dean's protectiveness over his brother... and he seemed to admire my commitment to his brother.

---------------------------------------

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[themarvellouswriter]

FIX ME UP

OMEGA! BUCKY BARNES X ALPHA! READER

Summary: The cute EMT has a very snarky personality and the pretty trauma surgeon isn’t a fan.

Genres: Slight smut, fluff and slight angst. Mostly fluff though.

Words: 2.6k

Notes: This is actually my first A/B/O fic.

Warnings: 16+, Dub con, Non con if you squint. But everyone ends up happy I promise. Not beta read yet, will do it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, 20:37

“Doctor L/N! This is the last one. 30 year old beta male. Broken arm and concussion. BP is slightly elevated. O2 levels normal.”

“Thanks Sam. Please take him to med bay 5 and have Doctor Feldman to give him a full check up,” you call out from where you’re examining another patient, a fifteen year old female omega. She’s looking up at you in awe.

“What?” You give her a small smile as you finish looking over her reports.

“Nothing, its just that you’re an alpha and you’re so much in control when nobody lets unmated alphas near newly minted omegas.”

You laugh. “I have more self control than all the people in this entire building. And I don’t get that affected by omega scents. So, there’s that.”

You close the folder. “Well, good news. I’ll draw up a rough schedule of your medicine and you’ll be as good as new in a few weeks.” She smiles up at you. “Thank you doctor. Nobody took me seriously when I told them I wanted to be an omega athlete. They’re always telling me that its for betas and alphas. I hate it when people say that.”

“You know, I used to hate it when people used to tell me that I couldn’t be an surgeon because I was an alpha. Look who’s laughing now. Never let people tell you what you can and can’t do.” She nods determinedly as you take your leave.

You step outside for a breath of fresh air. Your thirty hour shift is about to be over in about an hour and you couldn’t wait to get home and prepare for your upcoming rut. You had been on your feet for what felt like days and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep for hours.

You spy a haphazardly parked EMT van. Curious you make your way over, wrapping your white coat closer to your body. “Sam? Is this one yours?” You say yanking open the front side door of the ambulance. There is a figure slumped over the steering wheel, breathing heavily. Long dark hair falling over their face. You sniff. “Barnes?” The person in question turns slightly. “Ugh. Of all the people to find me here. It had to be you.” You roll your eyes at his irritated voice. “If its that much of a problem how about I walk away like I never saw you?” You move to close the door. “Wait, no. Stop. I need my meds. I ran out. And Sam left so can you please…?” Your doctor side took over, ignoring the previous and very mutual hostility between the two of you. 

You pull him back to the seat. His face is flushed and he’s sweating profusely. You take a deep breath, making him flinch slightly. “So, you’re an omega. Should’ve figured. I’m assuming you ran out of suppressants and now you’re about to go into heat?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Alright smarty pants, can I get them? Or do you need my doctor’s note?” Your mouth twitches, fighting a smirk. “How about I do you one better?”

You unclip his seat belt and rest your hand on his waist. He stares at you mouth ajar. “What’re -” “Relax, I’m not going to hate fuck you in an ambulance. I’m taking you to the Omega Ward. You’ll be safe there.” He looks taken aback, opening his mouth to protest. “Be quiet and get out.” He shakily climbs out, legs nearly giving away as his feet touch the ground. You catch him in your arms, alpha strength making you lift him up with ease. He’s trembling in your arms, eyes clouding as his body approaches the initial stages of going into heat. He buries his face into your neck. “I still hate you but you smell so good.” You snort as you carry him inside bridal style. “Dumbass.”

All eyes are on you as you walk in, your archenemy Barnes tucked in your arms. People literally stopping in their tracks to look at you.

“Has nobody ever seen an omega in heat? In a hospital of all places? I mean is it really that weird?” Your voice is sharp and cuts across the room like a knife. “Get back to work.” Doctors Feldman and Pravesh, your friends from the ER, give you a surprised look as you walk past them. You mouth ‘I’ll explain later’ at them, as you make your way to the lift.

Barnes looks up at you, eyes wide, pupils blown. The pretty blue of his eyes almost black now. You swallow as his rich, dark extremely familiar omega scent invades your senses.

“Thank you.”

“Its my duty.”

“Not everyone would do it. Especially if they hate the person in question.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You open your mouth to object but are cut off as the lift open and a wayward hand makes it way towards Barnes. You take a quick step back. Another alpha stares at you, eyes filled with lust. His eyes move to the body in your arms. You feel him shift closer to you, fear mixing in his scent. You growl threateningly at the stranger who immediately runs out of the lift at the sound. You enter and use your elbow to hit the button to the basement where Omega Ward is.

Barnes looks up at you with glassy eyes and rubs his nose against the underside of your jaw. “That’s ticklish and wildly inappropriate Barnes.” “Bucky.” “What?” “Call me Bucky.” You clench your jaw as the top of his head moves along your neck. “Bucky. Stop. You’re going to be nesting in a very safe space soon. You won’t need an alpha.” “Say it again.” “Say what?” “Say my name.” You finally look down at him, dark hair spread across your shoulder, eyes glittering in the dim light. “Bucky.” You whisper in his ear. The omega throws his head back and lets out the most sinful moan you’ve ever heard. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself and hoist him upright. Cradling him tightly you nearly run out of the lift as it opens.

You stop at the reception and check him in. One of the sweet smelling beta nurses leads you to a small room and you deposit Barnes, Bucky, on the bed and then dump a pile of blankets on top of him. “Nic will be taking care of you, for as long as you need. You guys are friends, right?” His gaze moves to the blonde nurse who just walked in to join you. “Hey, Buck. You tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you. Anything at all.” He gives you a sad look as you turn away.

You give her a slight nod and walk out, shutting the door behind you. “You smell like him now,” Nic says from behind you. “Don’t remind me.” You sigh and go back to your floor, still about 40 minutes before you’re done with your shift. Conrad Hawkins, your best friend since high school, meets you as you step out. “So, Barnes, huh?” You roll your eyes. “Like the other betas here, who actually listen to me, why don’t you?” “Just saying. You hate him and you carried him to the OW. When there was a perfectly good gurney here.” He tilts his head towards the ER. “Oh my gawd, stop. I am an alpha taking advantage of an omega in heat. I think I scented him.” He snorts with laughter. “You think. When you growled at the guy in the lift, the entire floor heard it. And the dude pissed himself.” You grin. “Nice,” you nod appreciatively.

“I would love to continue this riveting dicussion about Barnes’ heat and Y/N’s idiocy but we have a surgery to get to,” Mina Okafor seems to pop out of nowhere and drags you away with Conrad still laughing behind you. “I don’t have any. My shift is about to get over.” “Too bad. Its a whipple and Doctor Austin wants you there.” You sigh for what feels like the millionth time that day. “There is somebody out there who hates me.” “One thing’s for sure.” “What?” “Its definitely not Barnes. You stink of him.” You give her an exasperated shove as you both begin your preparations for the surgery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday, 7:45

You dragged yourself out of the OR, pulling off the bloodstained garments off and throwing them away. You made your way to the Omega Ward to check up on Bucky Barnes. It felt weird to call him Bucky, you guys weren’t exactly enemies but had never gotten along for some reason. He was excellent when it came to disguising himself as an ordinary beta. But he wasn’t ordinary at all. And you knew it, felt it deep inside when you looked at him. Something special and so inherently Bucky about him. Even though the both of you never got along and rarely agreed on things, you couldn’t deny the feeling of protectiveness that rose within you when you saw him. With his soft brown hair and big blue eyes, the toothy smile, the razor sharp wit and general overall perfection it was impossible to not fall in love with him. You froze in your tracks at the sudden thought, stopping right outside the Ward. In love with Bucky Barnes? The salty EMT with whom you liked to butt heads? Thinking about all your encounters only added fuel to the fire that you loved him. And given the way he was looking at you with those soft, lust lidded, ocean coloured eyes and practically breathing in your scent, you were mostly sure he felt the same way.

You gave Nic a small grin, walking past her and pushing open the door of Bucky’s room only to be greeted with the overwhelming smell of an Omega in heat, strong enough to make even your knees weak. Taking in a deep breath, you walked inside to give his vitals a quick once over. He was huddled in a corner, tee shirt drenched with sweat and face flushed, eyes tightly shut, softly moaning your name as his hand pumped his length and brought him closer to the edge. Your eyes went wide as you saw him climax to the sound of your name, grateful that the rooms in the Omega Ward were soundproof. He hadn’t realised that you were in the room yet, you felt a bit relieved, inwardly knowing that his heat was distracting him from everything else around him. You finally knelt beside him, cupping his face in your hands, making him open his eyes and look at you. You gave him a genuine smile, brushing the sweat off his brow. His dazed expression slowly morphs into one of panic and absolute mortification.

“Oh my god, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know that you want me to help you through your heat.”

“This is humiliating.”

“Not really. I just had an epiphany and given the way you’re reacting to me touching you, I think you did too.”

“I’ve been in love with you the second I saw you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise that I love you sooner, it would’ve saved us a bunch of heats and ruts spent alone.”

“Agreed. Now are you going to keep talking or take me back to your place before the next wave of my heat sets in?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in your place?”

“I want you to consume me. And your place, with all that is you is the best place for you to take me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I trust you.”

“Is that the heat talking?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. My place it is.”

You don’t even remember how you brought Bucky back to your place, swaddled in blankets and smelling so absolutely divine. You tucked him in bed, feeling the first onset of your rut come on as you tinkered in the kitchen, making sure you had enough for the next few days and joining him as fast as you could. You curled your fingers in his soft hair before pulling him into a deep kiss and straddling him. His hands were placed firmly on your hips, holding you so close and you felt a rush of delight at having him so close to you. He was nearly intoxicated by your presence, breathless as he pulled your shirt off hands touching everywhere. Feeling a soft laugh bubble up you grinned at him. “So perfect.” The tips of his ears turned scarlet at your words, making you coo softly and pinch his cheeks before kissing him again. Your rut was making you more sensitive to his touch and it felt so good. For a moment you just wanted to soak in everything but there would be time for that later. Right now, Bucky was the priority.

Pushing him back in bed and pulling off his uniform was easy. Taking the entirety of his massive length in your mouth was not. So you started slow, all the while maintaining eye contact as you teasingly, tantalizingly began to suck him off. His hands found their way to your hair, harshly tugging the roots, begging you to go faster and the moans escaping his perfect mouth were nearly a sensory overload. And he felt so good, so perfect and pliant under you. Achingly beautiful and you had no idea how you’d managed to leave him alone for so long. He was now only all yours and you weren’t going to let anyone near him. You were an alpha and nobody was going to even look at what was yours. He came shortly, much sooner than you’d anticipated as you licked your lips before trailing warm kisses up his chest, ignoring the exhaustion that was threatening to overwhelm your body. You sank your teeth into his neck, his warm blood filling your mouth and spilling down his chest as you marked him as yours. He looked at you wide eyed and you felt horror set in as you realised what you’d done, backing away.

“You marked me as your mate.”

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You look so beautiful and perfect and my rut is going to set in anytime-” You babbled away, frantically waving your hands.

“I’m not complaining. And why is my mate now so far away? I need my alpha.”

You stared at him in disbelief before throwing yourself at him and holding him tightly.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just waiting for you to have your way with me.” He admits, slightly shy now.

“And I will because I love you so much.”

“I love you too Y/N. You’re the best alpha I could ever ask for.”

You don’t say anything, finally letting the exhaustion set in knowing there would be enough time to talk things out later, now that you both belonged to each other forever. And sleeping in his arms felt like heaven. It would feel even better when you both were fully ready to take things as they come. Before you finally drifted off you felt him smile against your skin and could almost see your co – workers’ smug faces when you both showed up freshly mated and smelling like each other and looking like young idiots in love. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

[freckledoriya]

“flowers” deku x reader fic

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none, just some fluff!

On your first day working at the agency office, your manager made sure to tell you some words of advice: “don’t fall for the heroes.” But it was too late. Before she got the chance to tell you that, Izuku Midoriya held the door for you, and as soon as you saw those green eyes, freckles, and smile-- the game was over. 

Working at the agency that represented the number one hero had its perks: recognition, a nice paycheck, good workplace, but your favorite was being able to watch Deku go in and out of the office throughout the week. You always made sure to catch his eye and give him a quick wave hello. When you first started this routine, it took Izuku a couple weeks before he began to stop turning pink and almost tripping over himself when he saw you greeting him. Part of you wanted to take his flustered disposition as flattery, but your coworkers quickly stopped that train in its tracks.

“He’s like that with every girl,” they informed you. 

It hurt to feel what little hope you had that the hero was into you be stomped out like a small fire. Still, it didn’t change the way his smile never failed to make your heart soar. Your small talk conversations about the weather were always the highlight of your week, and you consistently caught yourself daydreaming about what it would feel like to run your hands through his green curls. Every time you saw him being assigned to a particularly vicious villain, you never slept well-- always tossing and turning, worrying about not being able to hear his infectious laugh ever again. You had it bad for the number one hero, Izuku Midoriya.

But you knew it was hopeless. That title of being number one hero would get stuck in your head like a bad pop song. You couldn’t help but compare the successful, strong, attractive hero to you: a rather plain-looking office worker who could barely afford her studio apartment. It didn’t help that your quirk of being able to grow tiny flowers out of the palm of your hand proved to be anything but useful. In what reality would a guy like Izuku be interested in someone like you?

You ponder this most of your Friday, putting you in a funk and distracting you from the work you were assigned. Once 5:00pm rolls around, you’re already on your way out, coming to terms with the fact that once again, your unrequited feelings toward Deku resulted in another day of self-hatred. Because you were so wrapped up in these feelings and thoughts, it takes you till 9:00pm to realize that you left your laptop at the office.

You’re already situated in your sweatpants, so the prospect of going back to the office doesn’t have much appeal. But the lack of work you got accomplished today meant that it would have to be made up during the weekend, so you really had no other choice but to grab your keys and head back into the city. 

When you enter the office, you immediately see a light on and hear someone rummaging around in the cabinets. You cover your mouth with your hand and hide behind the corner, trying to regulate your breathing. There’s been a particularly violent villain on the loose in this part of the city, and you know your useless quirk would never stand a chance against him. As you pull out your phone to call the police, you hear a familiar voice from inside curse as things topple from the top of the shelves. 

“Hello?” you say out loud and turn the corner. You instantly spot Izuku trying to balance on one leg as he attempts to clean and wrap up a nasty wound on his right leg. But right when he hears you call out, he instantly falls over, prompting you to swiftly run over to him to help him back to his feet.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you stutter, feeling awful that you caught the injured hero off-guard, causing him to stumble.

“Oh, it-it’s okay!” he tries to respond back cheerfully, fighting against the pang in his leg. “Not your fault! I shouldn’t be in here anyway.”

“You can’t even bandage yourself right now,” you comment, looking at him struggling. “Here, let me help you.”

You wrap your arms around his body to help lead him over to a chair. The second your hand touches him you hear his breath get caught in his throat, seemingly overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so close.

He’s like that with every girl, you remind yourself. 

“Why are you here? you ask, looking at the gaping cut on his lower calf. “Shouldn’t you get a doctor to patch you up?” 

Izuku furrows his brow. “I’m the number one hero, I can handle this myself.”

You instantly regret ever opening your mouth, fearing that you may have just offended the man you’ve been pinning after for what seems like forever. 

“O-oh, I’m so so sorry. I mean, of course you can handle it,” you stutter, desperately trying to salvage what little coworker rapport you had with him. 

Deku looks impossibly upset once he hears you apologize. “No, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” He sighs and takes a seat. “I just mean… I should be able to handle anything. I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Hearing this confession seemingly tears your chest open. For the first time, you’re looking at the number one hero Deku and not seeing the untouchable God-like human that the media, your coworkers, and even you have made him out to be. In front of you, you see someone who is being suffocated by all the pressure and expectations. He thinks that he needs to be nothing short of perfect in order to matter. You were used to that feeling as well.

“You can’t be perfect all the time, Izuku,” you say, inadvertently lowering your voice to almost a whisper. 

He looks at you in shock. “You… you know my name?!”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, and all the nerves you were feeling pour out of you. Why was this famous pro-hero that you worked with surprised that you knew his name? Was he really that humble?

“Of course I know your name! I do work here with you after all.”

Izuku looks disappointed once you say that last part. “Oh. Right. Of course.”

He’s like that with every girl. The line repeats every time you think you get a glimpse that he may be interested in you. You try to shake your head clear as you kneel next to him to wrap his leg.

“You do as much as you can, and that’s what matters,” you say. “You help so many people every day and never give up. Being the symbol of peace isn’t about being perfect. It’s about standing up for what’s right and being the best version of yourself.”

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. Every fiber of your being just wants to reach out and touch his cheek, kiss him until he sees how incredible he already is. But you know better. The number one hero with an everyday office worker? It would never happen. 

You sigh sadly. “At least you get to make a difference with your power. I’m jealous of that.”

“You don’t have a quirk?” Izuku asks, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

Letting out a breath, you open your palm. “No, I have one. It’s just not particularly useful in any way.”

Focusing all your energy into your hand, you use your power to create a small flower right in the center of your palm. You pluck it out and hand it to the hero next to you, prompting his cheeks to turn pink. 

“I can only create little ones like that, and it takes a lot of energy,” you say as Deku carefully examines the flower you gave him. “When I was little I thought that it would grow and evolve into something big and cool, like I would be able to create vines that could wrap up a villain, but... it never changed.”

You run your fingers across your open palm, trying to shift your focus to keeping the tears that were forming from falling. You had come to terms with your quirk a while back, but sitting next to probably one of the most powerful men in the world made you feel like dust. 

“I had to start working at this agency just to feel like I was somehow a hero. But I know I’m actually pretty insignificant, especially when compared to you.”

Izuku quickly grabs your open hand before you get the chance to close it. You’re shocked at this uncharacteristically forward gesture, but allow him to stare intently at your palm before shifting his eyes up to you. 

“There’s no person, quirk or not, that’s insignificant… especially not you.” 

His words wash over you like a refreshing wave of cool water on the hottest day of the year. You didn’t know how parched you were for validation until you were given it, shown so much acceptance from your long-time crush. It was overwhelming, and for the life of you, you couldn’t find the right words to say in response, expecting to wake up from this dream at any moment.

A beat of silence passes, and suddenly Izuku holds out the flower you gave to him. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Now you’re sure you’re dreaming.

His face turns an inhuman shade of red and the hand holding the flower out to you starts to shake. “I, uh, know we’ve never talked that much besides the usual office small talk but I’ve always kind of liked you and have been wanting to ask you out for a while now but of course I didn’t know you were interested, well, I guess I still don’t know if you’re interested but for some reason this seemed like the right time to ask, well in retrospect I’m not sure anymore and I-”

You cut off his muttering with a kiss, feeling his body reflexively tense before completely melting into your touch. 

If you really are dreaming, then you pray to every god in existence that you’ll never awaken. 

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Trying To Balance With A Part Of Yourself Missing

Summary: Thor bargains with Odin on Loki's sentence, and he wins. Loki is moved with the Avengers to fix his past mistakes. But Odin's term changes everything, and Loki's foe is not their mistakes, but their self-image.

Warnings: each chapter has individual, the work in general is pretty dark

Notes: When a dialogue of Loki is in bold, he is speaking English. And when a line is in italics without a dialogue, it's an intrusive thought.

Chapter 5: The Doctor

Chapter summary: Banner takes Loki for the tests.

Warnings: Language, gender dysphoria, gender dysmorphia, internalized racism, intrusive thoughts, needles, blood, medical themes, mentions of child neglect [not on screen], mentions of self harm [not on screen]

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

This time, Friday wakes them up, reminding them of the appointment with Banner. Loki groans and drags himself out of the bed and into the bathroom, it's better to get rid of that smell, at least for as long as it can hold.

At least Loki doesn't have to look at their body as they wash themselves, an advantage of blindness they didn't think of until now. Still, being forced to touch all the time is unpleasant and uncomfortable to no end. And trying to wash his hair without scratching his hands on the horns or his claws scratching his scalp is a task unimaginably difficult.

Loki now understands why Jötnar run around naked, wearing a shirt with these horns is almost impossible. But, they must hide the chest plate, at least from everyone but Thor. And Banner, after the examination. And, shit, he probably has to take breakfast with them…

They sigh and glance at the mirror, only to make sure they don't look so much for a mess. His appearance is acceptable, so he takes the now charged earpiece and walks away, wearing it as Friday starts instructing.

A hand touches their shoulder, making them flinch away. Thor, the owner of the hand, mutters something, probably an apology, but he can't hear it thanks to Friday. They take a breath out and smile at Thor, muttering a good morning. Thankfully, Friday stops talking.

"How are you feeling? You look…" Thor trails off, trying to appear as polite as possible.

"F-f-feverish? It's fi-fine, just-just a b-bad day," he brushes off, suddenly glad that he doesn't need Friday's translations.

"But, you're ill," Thor argues, making Loki sigh.

"I'm not-not, it's a bad d-day," they answer.

"Loki, you can't fool me. You're unwell, why don't you admit it?" he groans. Truth be told, Loki rarely admits any weakness with ease. As long as one can walk, there's no need for whining, Odin had said countless times and Loki never stopped obeying.

"I d-d-do. It's a b-bad da-day," he speaks slowly and as clearly as possible.

"Loki, you're having a fever. It's not just a bad day, and you are allowed to admit that you're ill. Please," Thor begs, actually begs. If Loki wasn't so pissed off, they'd be touched.

He pulls Thor closer, mostly to maintain some secrecy. "I am on m-m-my pe-pe-period," they hiss, watching as Thor's last brain cell comes to life.

"Oh… well, this explains the irritability of yours, brother. You know your patience always runs low these days," Thor nods, all matter-of-factly. Loki has to take deep breaths and remind themselves again and again that murder is a convicted crime, and they should not get locked up in a Midgardian prison. Or any prison, anytime soon.

Luckily, Thor remains silent after that. The only one who breaks the silence is Friday, reminding Loki that he can't eat before a blood test, or the results will not be accurate. Fine, they didn't really feel hungry anyway.

Perhaps, if you skip today's food entirely, you'll lose that disgusting bloating of yours. He tries hard to not grimace at the thought. No, they have to remind themselves, it will leave after a few days, it always does. Just do the damn tests and then eat, it's not that hard.

When they reach the kitchen, Loki can feel eyes on him and a mix of confusion and irritation in the air. Alright, just stay quiet and it will pass.

Wanda mutters a good morning, her magic swirling around her like some form of shield or blanket. Loki repeats the wish, forcing a smile. They don’t know which is worse, the jealousy building up or the guilt over the last time they listened to that feeling.

Thor helps him find a chair in the bright chaos, and even pulls it. For fucks sake, they're not unable to sit on a fucking chair! He tries to prove it by being the one who adjusts it on the table.

"Morning, dude. How're you feeling?" a man asks, Wilson. Just by his voice, he sounds kind, less judgemental.

"Fine, thank you for asking," they answer, plastering another fake smile (one of the best skills being a prince has given them).

Still, Wanda is seeing through it and attempts to find out, by using a simple mind invading spell. One that makes the base of Loki's skull feel ablaze. As loud as he can, he thinks of the word stop, making Wanda pause and retreat, her curiosity replaced with shame.

Then, a conversation occurs. Loki doesn't want to take part, but the combination of the voices and Friday's translations is overwhelming, making his head pound. Friday catches the message and stops translating, but the voices are still too fucking loud. Loki sighs and decides to just take a sip of water, and see if it'll help, but it turns to ice before it touches their lips. But fuck, he's thirsty and in pain.

A hand touches their shoulder, and they jump up, turning around to see a short person dressed in purple. "Are you ready for the tests?" He asks, Banner. Loki nods and gets up, pardoning himself before walking away.

"Are you okay?" he asks, making Loki groan.

"Wh-wh-wh-why does e-e-everyone ask me-me if I'm okay? I'm f-f-fine!" they snap, stopping only after feeling Banner freeze.

"I asked because you looked like you were about to start crying over there. No offence, they can be loud sometimes, but you didn't seem like you were taking it well," he answers, half expecting his skull to be crushed. But Loki is just ashamed he didn't hide the pain better.

"N-n-n-none t-taken. Noise is not exactly we-we-we-welcome, and I used to to-to-tone it down w-w-with spells. Now, I c-c-c-can't," they explain, just beginning to collect themselves.

"You know, you can ask Friday to deafen, if you use the earpieces. It helps," he suggests. Loki nods, happy with the silence that they fall into. At least Banner doesn't feel like he has to talk all the time, even though he's nervous. He's still afraid of him, even though it's not necessary any more.

The lab is a fucking bright room, Loki has to cover their eyes and let Banner navigate them, after lowering the lights.

During the examination, Loki comes to realize that Asgard and Midgard are opposite when it comes to healing. First, Banner promises secrecy, any information stays private until Loki asks for a leak, or in a life or death situation. And then, he just asks about everything and listens to the answer. No doubt, no comments and no painful examinations with leeches or smelly potions that make people’s skin pink. Well, the examination on light sensitivity was painful, and Loki swears to piss on the grave of whoever thought a flashlight in the eyes is a good idea, but the rest were fine.

When he was young, Odin would not easily believe Loki, no matter what. The times when they were forced in hunts that were leaving them in the healing wing for weeks or feasts until they faint on their plate due to fever are uncountable. The show would usually begin with Loki faking the illness because he’s lazy, come to its climax when Loki would be deemed delicate and weak while being tossed in the healing wing and the parade of hypocrisy would end after Loki returns to his chamber only to be forgotten there. Loki learned two lessons from this. One, if they can stand up, they're not ill, and they shouldn't bother other people with whining. And two, if he's truly ill, it's wiser to deal with it on his own than let others draw conclusions.

The change feels so odd, yet it’s so welcome.

Until the time for the blood test.

"Just follow my instructions, I'll make it as painless as I can," he promises, and then instructs Loki to lift their sleeve and show the armpit, the non-dominant one. Loki doesn't show his nervousness, and tries to appear as cold as possible when he reveals the hand, and everything he's done to it. Banner doesn't comment and doesn't show pity, but his skin grows just green enough for Loki's eyes to notice.

The other instructions were easy. Clench the fist, breathe in, breathe out and relax the hand. Banner is surprised to say the least when he sees the tube filling with blue liquid instead of red, but doesn't comment.

Do you think he could bleed you dry and be done with this shit show? Loki hitches a breath and clinches their stomach, stopping when the sound of something breaking and a hot pain blooms in their arm. Did he freeze the tube and break the needle?

Banner fetches something from a table and grabs Loki's hand, muttering something about getting the needle out. Loki hisses from the pain, and manages to freeze Banner's glove, but he still covers their hand with gauzes. The white starts turning blue and freezing in some parts, Banner is about to do something about it but Loki hums a no.

"Do you want to try again?" he asks, Loki could feel how he was expecting a negative answer. But he nods a yes and covers his right hand, so he’ll uncover the left one and clench. This time, they don't dare looking at the needle and mentally play some random songs for a distraction. Banner tells him to clench again, and then gives him some cotton to press in the hole before he vanishes behind some machine.

"What were you humming?" Banner asks, making Loki's face go ablaze.

"I… em… a song," they mutter, and mentally berate themselves for the lack of words. Banner laughs, but not out of malice. And he hands over a paper box and a bag. Loki stares at him and tilts his head, but Banner tries to brush it off as "something that's always done when someone gets a blood test". As if Loki is also a fool, apart from blind.

They're about to get dismissed and leave when Friday tell them via the earpiece that Banner will ask questions when he sees the test results. Loki sighs, it's better to be the one who tells him, right?

"Ba-banner, about th-th-the te-te-te-test, y-you may so-see some… abnormalities in th-th-the tests. It's n-normal, yet-yet-yet uncomfortable," they trail off, feeling confusion on Banner's side instead of clarity.

"Would you mind being more specific? I need to know what to ignore,"

"Hormonal, m-mostly… on, em…" he groans in frustration, feeling like an absolute fool, "on me-me-menstruation hormones… and y-y-yes, I kn-know wh-what it implies. B-but, d-don't tell anyone, only Th-th-th-thor knows," they get it out, waiting for a myriad of feeling emit from Banner. But he just makes a small oh sound and hands over another paper package.

"I guess you'll find them easier than tampons. If you finish them, just come to me. Don't try to steal Nat's, you'll be disappointed, and possibly earn a chinned tooth," he smiles, but Loki can sense the warmth from saying Romanov's name. Love, he concludes, what a complication when towards your co-worker, from what he's heard.

"W-w-w-we're done?" they raise an eyebrow and look down at Banner, glad he doesn't look afraid. Interesting, just enough inspection, and he isn't afraid any more. What a gullible scientist.

"Friday will find anything we missed, and she can help Tony make you some glasses, if you decide you want them, or inspect the brain damage from the other guy," he answers. Loki nods and is about to turn around, before thinking twice about the answer he got.

"W-w-wait, wh-wh-wh-what brain d-damage?" they blink. Apart from the nightmares, thoughts, flashbacks, headaches and general fuckery, his brain works perfectly. Well, perfectly might be an exaggeration, but the Hulk hasn’t done anything.

"You're telling me you walked around with a dead ear since the Attack and didn't notice?" Banner is now the one to raise an eyebrow.

"I w-w-was in so-so-solitary c-c-confinement until y-y-yesterday. Not much to h-h-h-hear," they explain. But… he should have heard Thor coming today in the corridor…

"Yeah, your left ear is dead, or the nerves getting messages from there to your brain. You can thank the other guy, and there's nothing to be done," he isn't exactly mild on announcing another damage on this throughout fucked up body, but it doesn't exactly matter. So, they just nod and go back to hiding under their sheets, but this time they make Friday play some music, just to cover up the silence.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying

[elisaphoenix13]

Once Upon A Summer (Ch.6)

Peter was content to sit on the wet sand and build sand castles. Or more like sand piles since beach toys we're not on Friday's "necessary supplies for temporary toddlers". Which was fine. Stephen offered to take a gateway to the store to buy some if it was necessary, but so far, it seemed it wasn't. While he built sandcastles, they relaxed in the cabana with one eye on Peter at all times. Two if they counted the one eye from both of them.

"Pete, you don't go any closer to the water." Tony calls out and gets an affirmative from the toddler. When he looks over at the sorcerer sitting on one of the cabana beds, he chuckles when he finds him applying sunscreen. "Got enough there?"

Stephen huffs. "Probably not. Even under here, the sun will find me and burn me if I'm not careful."

"Burn like a lobster?" Tony asks.

"Not everyone is blessed with skin that welcomes UV rays. I'm sure if you sit out in the sun unprotected, you just get a nice tan." Stephen says as he holds the sunscreen out to Tony. "Could you help me with my back?"

"You'll take any excuse to have me touch you won't you? You really just have to ask~" Tony smirks and Stephen chucks the sunscreen at him before he can grab it.

Tony chuckles as he bends over to pick it up, then sits near Stephen to help apply the cream to his back. The sorcerer took the responsibility of watching Peter in the meantime, giving Tony time to appreciate the skin under his hands. To appreciate Stephen in general. Over the past few days, Tony started to notice little things about him, but the biggest of them all was the loneliness he seemed to catch in Stephen's eyes. Just yesterday, Tony asked him if he was the only one that was living in the Sanctum but the sorcerer had told him that there was another man there. Who was currently watching the Sanctum until this mishap with Peter was resolved.

Something told Tony that this other sorcerer wasn't the greatest company...at least in the way of conversation. When Tony saw him at the beginning of this whole ordeal, Stephen had been terse and closed off. But over the past few days, his stress was starting to melt away and Tony was seeing the doctor relaxed and (hopefully) even enjoying himself. Even with their situation.

"Hey Doc." Tony starts.

"Hmm?"

"You're welcome to come here or to the tower even after the kid is back to normal." He says. "I'll tell Friday to give you clearance."

Stephen looks over at him. "...why?"

Tony finishes applying the sunscreen and closes the cap. "I'll admit that having you around has been a breath of fresh air. It's fun when someone can actually quip back...and...you also look like you could use the company. Or a periodic trip to the beach."

"You realize I can go anywhere in the world I want?" Stephen points out and Tony sighs.

"It was just an offer."

He wouldn't admit how disheartening it was to be brushed off like that, but it was probably just karma. Tony wasn't innocent of doing that to other people from time to time. He just didn't understand why Stephen and his well being was getting under his skin like this. Sure the younger man was very nice to look at, and Tony did enjoy their banter and his one sided flirting-

Wait.

Was Tony…? Nope. Impossible.

"Thank you." Stephen suddenly says quietly, pulling Tony from his thoughts. "Maybe I will."

There was that butterfly feeling. His chest fluttered and Tony couldn't help but smile. Maybe this was what he thought it was after all? He'd heard people explain the feeling...but he was just flirting with Stephen to get a rise out of him and because it was fun.

...right?

He honestly didn't know anymore. It started out that way at least. Stephen was more than nice to look out so his flirting was actually a little genuine, but it felt different from how he flirted with others. He actually wanted to do anything he could to keep Stephen happy, and he had been pleasantly surprised when the sorcerer accepted his invitation to take a small vacation in his rebuilt Malibu mansion. This domestic environment they had was...Tony couldn't even explain it. But he knew he liked it. He knew that he wouldn't complain if it lasted forever.

"Daddy! Look!" Peter calls out and Tony looks over at his sandcastle with a grin. It was more of a pile of sand but the toddler looked pleased with his work and Tony wasn't going to ruin that for him.

"Look at that Pete! How about we find some shells to decorate it?" He says as he gets up from the cabana bed he's sitting on to walk over to the boy.

"Shells?" Peter asks curiously with a cute tilt to his head.

"Yup. Come on." Tony holds out his hand and helps Peter to his feet.

The two spend the next ten minutes looking for the perfect shells to decorate Peter's sand pile and the boy even picks some to take home. Tony couldn't say no when he saw the pure delight on his kid's face so each hand held shells for either the sandcastle or to take home. Watching Peter decide what to do with the newest shell he found was adorable. He'd pick up a shell, turn to Tony, then look between each of his hands before making his decision and carefully placing it.

"Alright buddy. I don't think I can hold anymore. How about we go decorate your castle then go eat?" Tony suggests.

"Kay!" Peter scurries back to his sandcastle and takes a shell one at a time from Tony's hand after the man sits down, decorating his sandpile just the way he wanted. "All done!" He says after a little bit with a big smile.

"Looks great Pete."

"How about some lunch?" Stephen calls from the cabana.

"Turkey sammich!" Peter giggles and gets up to run over to the cabana, leaving Tony to get up with one of his hands still full of shells and brush himself off.

As Tony walked over to join them, he watched as Stephen got Peter settled at the low table with his sandwich, cut up into triangles as requested, and a juice box. Well he tried with the juice box anyway. The sorcerer's hands shook a little too much for him to put the straw in so Tony silently took the juice after setting the shells aside safely. Fortunately, Stephen nodded in acceptance and didn't take offense to the help Tony offered. Either he knew Tony was just trying to help, or he knew it was important to get the toddler his juice. Maybe both.

"Thank you." Peter says politely when Tony hands him his juice box and takes a sip before putting it down to bite into his sandwich.

"You're welcome. Did you say thank you to Mom?" Tony asks, ignoring Stephen's sigh.

Peter's eyes widen and he looks at Stephen. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome." The sorcerer chuckles.

"Thanks for making lunch." Tony says as he takes his tuna sandwich from Stephen.

"Don't get used to it."

Tony laughs. "It was nice while it lasted I guess. Maybe I'll make you and Peter my mom's lasagna."

"You cook?" Stephen asks in surprise as he and Tony join Peter at the table.

"Every once in a blue moon. I'm honestly only good with pasta, sauce, and sandwiches." Tony admits. "And whatever I can nuke in the microwave. What about you?"

"Quite well actually. Just don't ask me to make anything too extravagant."

"No beef wellington. Noted."

Stephen chuckles and they enjoy their lunch while enjoying the warm weather, the gentle breeze, and the sounds of the waves crashing. Peter was too busy eating to fill the remaining silence with his usual chatter, but Tony took that as a win. Toddlers were notorious for picking at their food and talking a mile a minute. Peter finished his food without a fuss and even let Tony wipe his face and hands with a napkin before he got too sticky from the juice.

"Play?" Peter asks.

"For a little while longer. Then we'll go back home and wash your shells, okay?" Tony says. "Stay where we can see you and stay away from the water until one of us can take you."

"Kay!" Peter wanders away and Stephen pops the last of his own sandwich in his mouth and gets up to clean their mess.

"Either we're lucky or he's always been a good kid." The sorcerer says.

Tony shrugs. "Honestly? I wouldn't question it if May told me he was an angel from the moment he was born. Peter is a good kid. He has gotten into trouble once or twice recently but he meant well."

Trouble that Tony was pretty sure shaved ten years off of his life. The whole ordeal with Vulture? Peter ended up telling him what had happened and Tony felt sick to his stomach when he got to the part where Vulture dropped an entire building on Peter. Who even does that? Dropping a building on a kid has to weigh on one's mind, especially if you're a parent yourself (according to what Peter told him). What made it even worse was that Peter was in his sweatsuit and completely unprotected because Tony had taken away his suit. He still felt guilty for that. He took away his kid's suit and Peter still put himself into danger just to keep the villain of the week from stealing extremely expensive and dangerous equipment.

Peter had a good heart. The kid was completely selfless and was always looking out for others…

When May died, he had said that Tony didn't need to worry about him. That he would be okay.

Tony knew better. He knew Peter well enough that he knew the kid was terrified and on the brink of a meltdown. His eyes always betrayed how he was feeling and they were what made the engineer pull him into a hug. It was an attempt to comfort the teen, his kid, and Tony made sure to tell Peter that he wasn't abandoning him. Even Tony had to admit to himself that he would go through hell and high water to see Peter happy and safe.

"He has a certain charm." Stephen says.

Tony barks out an abrupt laugh. "That's for sure. He's like a golden retriever puppy. Cute and excitable. Can't sit still and always seems to be around. When you meet him at his proper age, you'll want to pet his head."

"I believe you." Stephen chuckles. "You better go let the puppy play in the water though. He's been looking at it since before lunch."

"Alright, alright."

Tony gets up and walks over to Peter who was drawing pictures in the wet sand with a stick, and offers to let him play in the water. Peter agrees immediately and takes his hand, and they spend the next hour jumping over the waves as they roll in and splashing around on the shore. One of the waves did catch Peter and knocked him down, but Tony swiftly pulled him up to his feet again, made sure he was okay, and they went back to playing. The engineer eventually found himself chasing Peter along the shore, threatening the boy with clawed hands and listening to Peter shriek as he ran away laughing.

Tony loved it. He liked hearing Peter laugh because the poor kid had enough bad things happen in his life. It always blew his mind how Peter managed to keep his pure heart and kindness when he was dealt such a crappy hand. Tony vowed to keep the smile on his face however he could.

Even chasing his toddler form around the beach and eventually catching him and scooping him up.

"Gotcha!" Tony exclaims and Peter giggles. "How does going home and washing your shells sound? Dad's pooped."

"Mama too?" Peter asks as he wraps his arms and legs around the engineer.

"Yeah. Mom, too." Tony confirms.

"Okay Daddy."

Tony smiles when Peter lays his head on his shoulder and the man walks over to the cabana. "Ready to head back?"

"Yeah." Stephen grabs the cooler and follows Tony to the path that would take them back to the mansion.

Two minutes into their five minute walk, Peter fell asleep against Tony's shoulder and Stephen quietly informed him of it. So the new plan was to clean the boy up and tuck him into bed. Which, of course, went well enough. Stephen helped Tony rinse Peter free of sand when they got back to the mansion, and while the engineer got him into a diaper, Stephen went into the bedroom to get his bed ready. Peter was barely conscious throughout the whole ordeal and dropped back off into sleep once Tony carried him to bed and tucked him in. Tony laid a gentle kiss on his forehead as Stephen left the room, and when he followed to join the sorcerer, he found the younger man looking at his shoulders and then rolled his eyes.

"You didn't put sunscreen on." Stephen says.

Tony looks at his shoulders and winces when he finds patches of angry red. He didn't even want to imagine what his back looked like. "Yikes."

"Come on. I'll help you put some aloe on it." Stephen says and walks downstairs to grab the aloe gel.

He was certainly two steps ahead because Tony didn't have any of that either. Stephen must have ordered it with the other beach stuff.

"Thanks, Doc." Tony says as he sits at the kitchen table and Stephen walks up behind him.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not right now. I'm sure it will soon now that I'm aware of it." Tony snorts.

Stephen nods and begins the task of applying the aloe gel to the affected areas of Tony's upper body and the man sighs. The gel was cool and soothing, and he definitely enjoyed having it applied by Stephen. He was already content enough to close his eyes and hum contently...but not enough to make the sorcerer uncomfortable. Though he was sure Stephen was aware how much of an effect aloe had on sunburns and wouldn't have judged him.

Unless Tony was openly moaning. That was over the line and inappropriate and he wouldn't. At least not when he wasn't in a relationship. If they were, that was a different story.

Tony's cell suddenly breaks the content atmosphere and he huffs before reaching over to grab it from the other side of the table. "Yeah?" He answers once he brings the phone up to his ear.

"Tony, I've got the results for the...test." Bruce says and Tony straightens.

"Already?"

"Is that Bruce?" Stephen asks as he finishes and walks away to put the aloe in the fridge.

"Yeah." Tony nods when Stephen turns to look at him. "So is Strange living up to his name or-"

"It's a match, Tony." Bruce interrupts.

Tony chokes and his eyes widen. For once he was at a loss for words and his tongue felt heavy. He barely heard Bruce's next words because he was pretty sure he stopped breathing.

"You're Peter's biological father."

[ineloqueent]

time enough

Gwilym Lee x Reader

synopsis: you’re stressed and Gwil’s busy, but he’s always got time for you.

warnings: descriptions of anxiety, mentions and description of a panic attack

word count: 1.5k

see the moodboard here!

⭒

It had been a rough morning.

Scratch that.

A rough day. A rough week? Month? Year?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going well.

You were studying ceaselessly, because attempting to get a doctorate in history was not what one would call “a walk in the park.” In fact, it was quite the opposite. You felt as though you were running down a steep, steep slope, at the end of which lay a cold, dark lake, which you would have no choice but to swim across in order to climb the mountain on the other side, atop which the Ph.D. was being held captive by a dragon, like some fairytale princess.

Indeed, your Ph.D. seemed like a fairytale, because how you were ever going to finish earning it was beyond you. You’d been at this for years and years already, and it seemed as though there was no end in sight. However much you loved history and that which you were studying in particular, the process of getting such an advanced degree was an arduous one, and some days, you thought you’d never make it.

For instance, today, one week before the final exam of your entire university career, the sky was falling down upon you.

It was Friday, and you’d been studying for this exam since four Fridays ago, and you were going around in circles. It seemed impossible to memorise all of those people, and all of those dates, all of those fucking movements, though you were sure they’d been in your head before.

You needed to get out of your apartment. You’d opened the window, but the air had remained stuffy, and the sun which beat down heavily was of no help. You were tired, running on a combination of caffeine and nervous energy, your hands growing shakier by the minute.

The pen fell from your grip as you stood up, knocking your chair to the ground in your hurry.

Out, out, out, get out. The room was too small, the walls were up against you, and you were finding it difficult to breathe.

You threw on your shoes and fumbled for your house key, stumbling out the door and only just remembering to close it behind you, let alone lock it.

You needed to get this off of your mind, this endless loop of studying and writing papers and reading papers, and there was only one person capable of helping you.

You knew where the shoot was, and it wouldn’t take you long to get there by car, but you wanted— needed—  fresh air, and didn’t trust yourself to drive with your quivering hands, so you began to run.

You nearly got into a road accident numerous times, and angry shouts followed you everywhere you went, but you could only hear the wind rushing in your ears and the hard concrete beneath your shoes.

You ran all the way to set, and when you got there, you faced the inevitable obstacle of a barricade and the security guard reluctant to let you in. But then you spotted Gwilym.

For a moment, you held your breath, your knuckles turning white as they gripped the barricade.

You didn’t want to trouble him. And he was very obviously busy, going over the delivery of a particular line with his co-star, prior to the shoot which awaited them on the footpath by the road, where the cameras were stationed.

But then for what reason had you come all this way?

By no small amount of courage, you called out to Gwil.

He spun at the sound of your voice, just as an assistant touched his arm to get his attention concerning the start of the shoot.

Your stomach dropped to your toes. He hadn’t seen you.

There were tears in your eyes now, and you couldn’t stop them, couldn’t even wipe them away for your shaking hands, your shaky breaths.

He hadn’t seen you, and he was going to leave and you were going to stay here behind the barricade, tearful and panicky and embarrassed and ashamed.

There was commotion over by the camera crew, but then one voice, assured, firm, clear, cut through.

“If you’ll excuse me, please, that’s my girlfriend you’ve barred from the premises.”

You were sinking to the ground by the barricade, your chest contracting, your skin cold and clammy, and then Gwil was jumping the barricade and kneeling on the ground beside you.

“Gwil, we need to—”

He raised a hand, and the gesture silenced the assistant. It wasn’t an impolite gesture, simply one which asked respect of the recipient, and for Gwil’s reputation of going out of his way to help others, the assistant nodded and walked away.

You were dimly aware of Gwil’s fingers curling around your own. He didn’t get in your face, but he also didn’t shy away, frightened by the panic which wracked your body.

“Hey, love?”

You turned your head to find him looking at you, all soft eyes and even breaths, and there was a calmness in just looking at him.

“You’re going to be alright. This’ll be over in a little bit, and then we can talk and go anywhere and do anything you like, yes?”

He was being so gentle, so kind, and the ghost of a smile touched his lips when you nodded in response to his askance, so much that you almost nodded again, just to see him smile fully.

But your vision still blurred at the edges— green and purple and black— and you remembered, all of those people, and all of those dates, all of those fucking movements, all of those things you were never going to remember, and you gasped as the intake of air constricted your lungs.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe with me.”

His thumb traced a gentle line at the base of your palm, and then he began to count slowly.

“One, you— the only one who matters right now. Two, how many days it took me to fall in love with you. Three, the number of drinks I had before I mustered the confidence to talk to you. Four, how many times I tried to talk to you on the same night before I gave up. Five, the number of weeks I thought about asking you out before I actually did it.

“Six, the hour I arrived to pick you up that first time. Seven, the time I was actually supposed to pick you up, but I’d forgotten about daylight savings. Eight, the number of constellations I memorised to try and impress you on that first date. Nine, the number of constellations I forgot how to identify, but you looked so happy staring up at the stars, so I pretended I knew them.

“And, because I can’t count, ten million billion trillion, how many times I will tell you I love you, if it makes you even half as happy as the first time I told you.”

That soft smile had reappeared on his face, and the colours were returning to the world.

You noticed that Gwil had sat down beside you, not minding his costume, or the fact that the ground would dirty it beyond all repair.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? This Ph.D. thing… I could never do it. But you…” Gwil exhaled, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, as though he truly could not believe how you managed. There was a great, unspoken respect in his words, and his confidence in you was far lovelier than anything else you had ever been given. “You work yourself too hard, beautiful. Breaks are good. We all need breaks.”

With a tenderness, he smoothed the hair from your forehead, and your breathing began to return to normal.

“Do you…” your voice hitched on the words, and Gwil was passing you a bottle of water he’d conjured from god knew where. You sipped a little, then handed it back to him.

“Slowly,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“Don’t you need a break from me, sometimes?”

His brow furrowed, but you kept talking.

“I mean, I turn up out of nowhere, and I— I— I ruin your day, the shoot, the—”

“Shh, love,” he touched your hand. “Breathe in and out. Slowly.” He then shook his head again. “You could turn up out of nowhere any day of the week, and I’d be over the moon to see you. And you haven’t ruined my day or the shoot or anything. I’m only sorry I wasn’t at home with you today.”

“But you’re busy and I—”

“I’ve got time enough, and all the time in the world for you.” He canted his head slightly, looking at you. “I think I should tell you, you are my world, and taking a break from the world would mean giving up on life, and while you’re here, there is no thought further from my mind.”

There were tears in your eyes again. But these were not tears of panic, of fear. Your heart swelled with happiness, with hope.

He kissed your hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, and held onto him until the light faded from the sky.

[jpegjade]

Take Care - Spencer

diana has made an appearance for something! i have rewritten this 3 times and i feel like this time is the one. 

Request: I’ve never seen this story anywhere written but like Spencer x reader where the reader is a caretaker of Diana’s and Diana is always talking about Reid and reading y/n the letters he sends and Diana always talks about how good spencer + the reader would be together and then they meet and fall in love ugh 🥺

Warnings: none that i can think of. 

_______________________

“You look bright today, Diana.” You said, bringing her mail for the day. 

“I’m getting a letter from Spencer today.” She said, opening the letter for the day. 

“Yeah, that’s great!” You said, handing out the other residents letters from their loved ones. 

Diana was the only one who got something everyday because her son was some kind of big shot fbi guy, according to her, so he was able to tell her all this cool stuff. She reads the letters to you very formally, as you were letting her believe she was still a professor and she was just holding office hours. That always made her happy, when you played into the delusion. You weren’t on her detailed staff so you didn’t know everything but you knew enough. 

One day, a letter came in the mail, addressed to you. Your relatives didn’t write letters so you didn’t know who it could be from until you opened it. 

“Dear y/n, 

My name is Spencer Reid. I am Diana Reid’s son. I assume she has told you about me as she mentions how cute you and I would be together when I actually have the chance to talk to her on rare occasions. She speaks highly of your service to her. I wanted to thank you for that. I can not do so in person at the moment but I figured a letter is a personal way to thank someone for their service.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

Standing in the lobby, you read the letter a couple of times. What in the world? Why would he thank you? Why you? You must not have been special. He must have hand written a letter to all of the people who help his mom. But… You’re the one person who hangs out with his mom and isn’t on the official staff list assigned to her. You were obviously perplexed but you figured that you should write one back. 

You got out a piece of paper and started writing. Then scratching out. Then writing again. Then scratching out again. Finally, you got something solid and closed the envelope, dropping it in the building’s outgoing mailbox. 

You pushed it to the back of your mind and moved on with your day. You couldn’t wait to hear about Spencer’s “adventures,” as Diana calls them. Sure, they weren’t the most interesting things but he told her secrets that no one else knew. It was like you were in on something special without prying. 

Diana read you her letter and then you got her up and moving for lunch. After that, your morning shift was over and it was time for you to return home. You bid Diana goodbye for the day, although she wasn’t going to recognize that you were leaving. She had been in a weird space lately so it was harder for her to really know what was happening. 

Life went on, going through the motions of bringing Diana her mail of the day for a few days in a row. As suspected, she was the only one with mail today until you saw your name in the same handwriting as the last one. As you rushed to open it, something fell out. A piece of paper labeled, “read me to diana.” 

“Dear y/n, 

Yes, I am an FBI profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit (or BAU). Yes, I know you aren’t in my mother’s healthcare worker detail but I also know that you spend time with her every day. I may not see my mother but I might stop by every now and then to check in on her, even if she doesn’t know I’m there. And if she doesn’t know, you don’t know. But I know you. I know you were nervous to write to me, your handwriting was shaky and wouldn’t stay on a line. The way you gripped the pen was probably tighter than normal. You slant down, meaning something is weighing on you, but not low enough that you aren’t on a relatively straight line. I suspect you’re a little younger than me, based on the way you dot your i’s and cross your double t’s. It suggests that you still believe in impossible things. And of course, you’re curious because you asked me to profile your handwriting. I’ve also seen you before so I know we’re about the same age and yes, you are very cute. My mother is a schizophrenic but she’s not completely delusional. 

How did the letter reading go? 

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

How had you never seen him? How did you never see him, as long as his mother has been here. Maybe you did see him but he was unremarkable? Diana was hardly unremarkable so her son must be of similar construct, right? 

You thought about this before you wrote him back. It was a quick message, nothing too intricate. You were a little bit more careful about how you held the pen, since he knew you were nervous last time. You wrote to him about how the letter reading went: she loved the poem. You guessed that Spencer would know that but sent it anyway to make her happy. But that still doesn’t answer the question, “why you?” 

Another few days passed but you couldn’t stop thinking of Spencer. You tried looking him up on the internet and found out he was just as brilliant as his mother. That was a plus. Negative was he was not on any social media unless it was an article about him. Eventually you gave up and just went back to trying to imagine him in your head. Was he tall? Was he short? What did he like to do in his free time? He has seen you but you haven’t seen him… That wasn’t fair. 

When you opened his next letter, you were sitting outside in the grass, across from Diana sitting on the bench. She was having a particularly tough day so she wasn’t up to reading you her letter. You told her you would still keep her company until your shift ended and she seemed to like that. 

“Dear y/n, 

You ask a lot of questions. Are you sure you’re not profiling me? And yes, I have witnessed your connection with my mother before but you wouldn’t recognize me in a crowd. I’m average, nothing special. You care for her in a way I never could… That’s why I wrote to you. I’ll see you on Friday.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

You didn’t think about how you interacted with Diana that made a difference. You just thought about why Spencer would want to talk to you… He said Friday. Which was today. Today was Friday… He could be anywhere! You had to find him and get some questions answered up close. 

You looked for anyone who might look remotely like Diana, frantically searching while looking nonchalant. Of course, he knows what you look like so you can’t seem desperate and like you’ve lost it. You also didn’t want to worry any of the residents. 

“Excuse me.” You said, trying to get past a guy who was standing in the doorway. He turned slightly and looked at you. He had a sad smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. He looked like someone who didn’t fit into the sea of people visiting their family members. Fridays were busier than the rest of the week so he could be anyone but you had a hunch by the way the guy was staring in the direction where Diana was sitting. 

“Spencer W. Reid?” You said, watching the sad smile get a little bigger. 

“You figured me out? How did you do it?” He said, scooting over so he wasn’t standing directly next to you. 

You didn’t take that as an offensive action. His mom did the same thing. They both had a thing about people touching them. 

“You were standoff-ish. And you’re dressed like you’re important.” You said, confidently. 

You had been googling what a profiler was and how to do it since the second letter. You thought it was the coolest job in the world but you liked where you were at, caring for people close to home. 

“So you profiled me.” Spencer turned towards you a little more.

“Yes, Dr. Reid, I did.” You triumphantly put your hands on your hips. 

“I never told you I was a doctor.” He said, knowing your nonchalant facade was going to fall apart that minute. 

“Well… Okay, I googled you.” You sighed. 

“The internet has its uses... “ He said, looking over at his mom again. 

He looked like he was getting cold feet of some sort. You saw him moving a little bit more and his eyes becoming a little flighty. 

“Do you want to step outside, into the lobby?” You asked, to which he nodded. He almost looked relieved not to be forced to go over there. 

“You don’t have to go over there. I don’t have to tell her you were here.” You said, sitting on the opposite side of the lobby bench to you. 

“No, she should know I came for her birthday.” He said, looking down at his hands. 

It wasn’t very often that the visitors got anything special on their birthdays. Unless their family did something within set guidelines, there was no celebration that happened here because it could set off one of the other residents in the facility. 

“That’s sweet. She would enjoy that.” You said smiling a little bit. 

“She’ll get her wish.” He said, wanting to chuckle. 

“And what’s that?” You wondered what he could possibly be talking about. 

“Seeing us together. I mentioned it in a letter previously, that she occasionally mentions that you and I would look cute together.” He said, finally looking up at you. 

“Oh, yeah. She has said that I needed to meet you once or twice before. We talk about you a lot. I feel like I know you.” You said, breaking eye contact. You were embarrassed that you told him that you talk about him when this is the first time you’ve ever met him. 

“Well, I don’t know much about you.” He paused. “Do you think you would want to tell me more?” 

“Oh well sure. Where do you want to start? My whole backstory is wild.” You looked up at him. 

It took a second for you to recognize what he was saying. 

“oh , you mean. Yes, that would be fun.” You said, attempting to remain calm. You just scored yourself a date and you didn’t do anything but write letters. Maybe you should be a pen-pal more often.

[ladyreapermc]

KEANU MASTER LIST

KEANU REEVES - One Shots

Netflix and Chill: Keanu picks you up for your date

Cuddle Session: On a rainy Saturday morning, you spend the morning in bed with your boyfriend.

Solace: after an anxiety attack, Keanu is there to comfort you.

Random Meetings: you meet Keanu at an after-party.

Vintage: you take care of a tired and sore Keanu

By the Poolside (smut): Keanu finds you taking some time off by the pool

Cherry Cola Milkshake (smutish): Keanu tries out your favorite dessert

Think Twice(smut): you’re making a new rom-com with Keanu and your ex-boyfriend. Jealousy ensues.

Smell of your Skin(smut): Keanu’s coming home after being away for a press tour.

Kiss me thru the phone (smut): You’re away from home for work. Phone sex happens.

Graham Norton: based off Keanu’s first appearance in Graham Norton and the ‘I never’ bit.

Together: Keanu finds out about the reader’s depression and bulimia and comfort her.

Misbehaving (smut): you meet Keanu in a party and the two of you end up having public sex.

Leave your lover (smut): You’ve been friends for 15 years. Then one rainy night changes everything

Listen: you tell Keanu about a traumatic event that happened five years ago

Reunion: Keanu is your date for your high school reunion

Like Lust (smut): AU set on mid-nineties where Point Break bombed on the box offices and Keanu quit acting to become a musician. You meet him at a gig.

Just a trim: Keanu’s beard is a little out of control so you take matters into your own hands.

Punishment (smut): Teasers get punished. That’s the rule. And you teased him all through his show.

Tropical rain (smut): your vacation with Keanu on a tropical beach isn’t going as expected.

Maple Syrup (smut): Strangely enough, Keanu might be the one Canadian you know who doesn’t like maple syrup, but you are working on changing that.

About that Bass: seeing Keanu playing the bass is one of the hottest things you’ve witnessed.

What kind of man (smut): Tom was kind and funny and sweet. He was perfect for you. But he wasn’t what you wanted.

Play to win (smut): you make a bet with Keanu. Whover loses has to get naked. The only problem? You had no clue on how to play pool.

Helping Hand (smut): You’re horny, Keanu is away, so you take matters in your own hands.

KEANU REEVES - SERIES

This isn’t a rom-com (Keanu x OFC) (smut) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensue (completed)

A Wish Your Heart Makes 1 2 3: Cinderella AU. During a masquerade ball, you end up kissing and falling in love with Keanu. Only one small problem, he’s your boss and you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place (completed)

Catching Feelings (Keanu x OFC) (smut) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to Hollywood trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget her ex. Neither of them is expecting to fall in love and all the problems it brings. (completed)

Thank you kindly Sir (smut): AU Keanu is a mechanic that helps you out when you’re out of luck Part 1 | Part 2 

Always the Quiet Ones series 

Always the Quiet Ones (smut): you’re a housekeeper in a hotel who gets seduced by one of the most important guests of the hotel.

The Proposal (smut): Follow up for Always the Quiet Ones. After a month away, Mr. Reeves is back and he has a proposal for you.

Dark Paradise (smut): AU! With their ‘arrangement’ in place, reader and Keanu go apartment hunting. Part of the Always the quiet ones universe.

Without you (smut): Keanu is gone and you have to deal with his absence and fixing your brandnew apartment on your own.

KEANU REEVES - DRABBLES

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30| 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 |

JACK TRAVEN - One Shots

At the amusement park: your first date with Jack at the amusement park

Stimulus Equivalence (smut): Jack distracts you while you’re trying to explain him a concept

Line of Sight (smut): you’re a sharpshooter for the LA SWAT when you meet Traven at a hostage situation

Come and See me (smut): after a bad day at work, reader asks Jack to come over for a booty call. Things don’t go exactly as planned.

Touch Too Much (smut): Jack has you tied and blindfolded and he likes to tease

Hanging by a Moment: For a long time you had a crush on Jack and before you could do anything about it, he met Annie. Now, two years later, maybe you two have a second chance.

JACK TRAVEN - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

JOHNNY UTAH - One Shots 

Partners: There’s a stakeout and you’re stuck with Johnny Utah for a partner. You hate him. Kinda.

Surf Lessons: Johnny wants to teach you how to surf. You know it’s a bad idea.

Hatef—k (smut): Johnny is your partner and you hate him until a pencil skirt changes everything.

Closing Time (smut): You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy times happen.

JOHNNY UTAH - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 |

JOHN CONSTANTINE - One shots

Tremors: Summary: you comfort Constantine in his time of need

Movie Nights: Constantine takes you to the movies

Hell ain’t a bad place to be (smutish): Constantine meets Satan. They are not what he was expecting

Removing Temptation: you try to help John quit smoking. He’s not all that happy with that.

Toxic (smut): you’re about to get married when you get a visit from Constantine

JOHN CONSTANTINE - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

JOHN WICK - One Shots

Meet Cute (John x OFC): Lilah finally gets to meet the tall, dark and handsome man she had been lowkey crushing on for the last four months when his dog gets loose and comes to play with her

Safe and Sound: John comes home from a mission and needs a back rub.

Too Sober, Enough Sass: you meet a tall, dark and handsome stranger who saves your life

Blood in the Cut (smut): follow up to too sober, enough sass. You find John Wick in your apartment, hurt and in need of a place to stay

Empty Chair (smut): John is tied to a chair. You have all the control

Dark of the matinee (smut): John takes you to the movies, but he can only focus on you.

Salute: you catch John signing and dancing (sort of) to your favorite song

Sick day: John gets sick and you take care of him

Kisses in the dark: John returns home late at night after a job and tries not to wake you.

Ballerina: Jardani helps a ballerina in the Ruska Roma.

Blurry Lines (smut): Wick is after a guy who sometimes work for you and that puts you under his radar so you run. Not fast enough though.

My Boy Builds Coffins (smut): Follow up to this drabble. You and John get some unwanted visitors during sex.

Friday Night:  t’s been a long week, but fortunately John is there to make it better

JOHN WICK - Series

Sympathy for the Devil (smut) 1 2 3 4: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a  night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal (completed).

BROOKLYN BABY SERIES

Brooklyn Baby (smut): AU. John knew he was going to regret letting his daughter Daisy throw her 21st birthday party in his house. He just didn’t know how much.

A little loss of innocence (smut): AU. After your encounter with Mr. Wick during Daisy’s birthday, you can’t stop thinking about him and decide to pay him a visit.

Insatiable Craving (smut): AU. Visiting Daisy’s dorm, John runs into Y/N instead and they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Make it Hurt (Smut): AU Bee visits John and finds a very different man than she has grown used to. A very good kind of different in her opinion.

Play with Fire (Smut): AU. When Daisy shows up unannounced, John has to find a way to play it cool while Bee is being a tease

JOHN WICK - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

Other characters - One shots

Your racing heart (Julian x Reader): after fainting, you’re taken to the hospital and Julian is your doctor.

In your Arms (Julian x Reader): Julian comforts the reader after they lose a patient

I’ll Wait (Julian x Reader): Follow up to Your racing heart. You ran into Julian again at a coffee shop when he’s awkwardly talking to his ex. You pretend to be his girlfriend to give a hand.

Domestic (Julian x Reader): based on this anon request - Can i request a Dr. Julian Mercer x reader domestic fluff????

Boy for Rent (Scott x Reader): Scott asks you to stay after a night of work

Trade mistakes (Dr. Beck x Reader) (smut): You’re a call girl and Dr. Beck is your client. You shouldn’t be getting this close to him, but it’s impossible not to.

Treat me like your boyfriend (Matt x Reader): when Matt asked you to tutor him, you weren’t aware of the mess you were about to step in.

Sweep Escape (Kai x Reader) (smut): you meet Kai in the slave ship. He’s a fighter, you’re a healer. Both against your will. Being together is a solace against the horrors of the world.

Closer (Donaka Mark; August x Reader) (smut): you and August go undercover to dig information on a Donaka Mark, but get caught and end up in a very unsual situation.

Other characters - Drabbles

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7| 8 |

[unholyhelbig]

[A/N: I finally updated "Dead Ivy" after a good year. Here is Chapter one if you haven't checked it out yet!]

Beca could feel the soil beneath her fingertips. It was soft, freshly overturned, and in a way, comforting. She was careful not to let her knees touch the ground- not privy to the dark stains that would splay against the fabric. The tree stood tall above her, stretching its large oak branches towards the pluming blue sky. A nice summer breeze tussled her hair, and she was sure that if she breathed in, she would smell freshly cut grass and chlorine from the neighbor’s pool.

The treehouse had long since been torn down to make room for her mother’s garden. Something that stood at the end of the fenced in yard. For a while, she grew tomatoes and zucchini. Beca could still remember the first red bulb that poked its head from the dirt. They made a salad from store-bought spinach and divided up the little thing, no bigger than a golf ball. It was still the best tomato that Beca had ever had.

She sighed at the hand that squeezed her shoulder gently. Her father smelled of aftershave and bourbon. His tie wasn’t fastened all the way to his white button down, and he had strung his suit jacket over his arm. He held a sad look that was shielded by the sun as Beca squinted at him. She pulled herself to her feet, feeling the age of her aching bones as she stepped back from the large oak tree and stared up at the branches.

“Do you remember when I fell out of this tree and broke my arm?” She asked.

Her fathers’ eyes crinkled at the memory as he gave her a sad smile. She had needed him to run beside her when he first took the training wheels off her bike. She had needed him when she learned how to drive and took out the Johnson’s mailbox. But when she dropped from a higher spot in the oak tree and felt something audibly snap, it was her mother that came to the rescue.

She had been clipping up sheets to the clothesline, claiming that the summer air was always better for stuff like that. A beautiful woman that would beam endlessly and cradle Beca in her arms with her stormy eyes and eerie calm. Beca needed that right now. Needed it to get through the handshakes and the hugs. The baked goods and casseroles that people deemed necessary when something like this happened.

“I do.” He chuckled wearily, “I got a call at work that something had happened. You scared the hell out of me that day, kid.”

Beca snorted at the nickname. She and her father had gotten along significantly better since she moved out on her own- took up a place and a prominent career across the country in Los Angeles of all places. She had, of course, taken time off work to come back for the funeral. To pull into the sleepy little Georgia town with a giant oak tree that shook in the summer breeze. She squinted at the bark, at the carving so crudely made by a grooved pocket knife.

C + B FOREVER & EVER

The second half was etched in different handwriting, something more elegant and thought out. It was funny, really. When they were kids, it was easier to think about the future in terms of relationships. Of course, they would always be with one another- they wouldn’t fathom being apart. But then college. Careers. Plane rides. Marriage, kids, and divorces. All inevitable. All anything but forever.

“She still lives around here, you know? Owns a little café in the far side of town.”

“That so?”

He grunted and sniffed away any feeling that still leaked in his voice. No one would question them for standing out here- but they still felt obligated to go back inside the old farm style house with the wrap around porch and the honeysuckle bushes. Beca didn’t know how he could still live here. “Yeah. You should pay her a visit while you’re here. I bet she’d like that.”

Beca simply nodded and let the tips of her fingers trace of the words that had been weathered over time, but they were still there. They had stood the test of time, unlike her treehouse. Unlike the little plants of tomatoes and zucchini that had rotted away to decaying vines that stretched like deadened ivy up the side of the fence.

“Right. Well, we should probably go back inside. The quicker we talk to everyone, the quicker they can go home and mourn their memories.”

It was a grim thing to say, but it was the truth, so her father let the words die in the air before sliding on the suit jacket to cover up the sweat stains against his dress shirt. She let her hand fall and looped it around his arm like he was escorting her down the carpeted floor of a chapel on her wedding day. Instead of white, she dawned black, though. And so, did he.

She thought that drinking and sadness walked hand and hand. It was why the only two bars in town did so well on any given night, and if things were bad, any given day. The other place, the snake eye, had karaoke on Friday nights and Beca didn’t think she was well equipped to listen to TLC, so she chose The Red Sun instead.

There were repurposed Christmas lights strung against the bottom of the counter, hot to the touch. A low rock ballad cracked over the loudspeaker. She wasn’t sure if the jukebox that changed light settings every few beats actually had a purpose or if it just ate up quarters. Either way, Beca Mitchell was in her own world.

She tilted her head back and let the bourbon burn on the way down. A nice and subtle sting that washed the taste of stale crackers out of her mouth. It was the only thing in her stomach- despite the spread that was now packed with tin foil in the fridge. Her father was drinking too, she was sure, at home in his study. The house was too quiet for her, though.

Beca felt a twinge of guilt in her gut.

She had ignored the last call from her brother. She was in the middle of the meeting, and at the time, the buzzing of her phone sounded louder than anything else in the world. She flushed instantly and clicked the side of the device before staring back down at her notes and sunk further into her seat.

He had died the next day, she had forgotten to call him back. A car accident and a drunk driver. Which, she supposed, defeated the purpose of being here- in this stupid some-hazy bar with nothing but time on her hands. She considered switching her flight to something earlier. But then reconsidered as quickly as the thought entered her mind. Her father needed her, at least for now.

“Beca Mitchell?” The voice startled her, it broke through the garbled focus of the next song. She blinked a few times and turned her head to the side. Stacie Conrad. She looked older, wiser even, but maybe that was the glasses. The smile on her face aged her, but in the best way. Still impossibly attractive, and confident, it seems. “Is that really you?”

“As I live and breathe.”

She winced at her use of words, but Stacie didn’t seem to notice as she quickly wrapped her in an awkward hug, Beca still half-sitting on a bar stool. Still, she craved the embrace and hugged back naturally.

“God, how are you?” She pulled away, “That’s a stupid question… I mean, as well as you can be, I hope.”

Before Beca could answer she lifted her hand in the air and signaled the bartender, the woman busied herself with preparing Stacie’s usual and pouring another sour edge of bourbon into Beca’s glass. She wasn’t sure if she would drink it or not, but she appreciated the sentiment behind it. Stacie settled into the seat next to her.

“I’m doing fine,” She finally managed, earning a detrimental look. “As well as I can be.”

The bartender set two glasses in front of them and Beca wrinkled her nose at it before focusing her attention on Stacie, the way her own drink looked like radioactive fluid. It was always the fruity things that packed the most punch. Not the gritty glass that she would be nursing for the rest of their conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear about him, you know.” Stacie finally said after a beat of silence.

Beca simply nodded. She was numb to the situation at this point. Her whole body felt like a lead pipe. She and Jason didn’t get along too well. He traveled the world and she resented him for that. But they played nice during the holidays and smiled for family pictures. He got divorced young, married even younger. It still ached her whole entire being.

“You and most of the town,” Beca chuckled dryly, begging for a change of subject. “I haven’t seen you in what? Eleven years?”

“Twelve. God, we’re old.”

She was thankful that her high school friend could take a keenly dropped hint. The two of them encircled the same click during those years. It was better than giving in to the southern tenacity of it all. They would smoke behind the bleachers and drink if they were feeling lucky. They usually were.

Beca caught a glimpse at the wedding band that took over Stacie’s finger. It was simple, not overstated with large diamonds. A simple one that was surrounded by two smaller stones. She smiled “You’re married now?”

She took another gulp of her fruity drink and hummed in response, instinctively twirling it around her ring finger. She got a goofy grin on her face and twirled slightly to make eye contact with Beca. Sure, she had seen the social media posts. The cute announcements and the picturesque scenes.

“Happily, at that, we invited you to the wedding, you know?”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“S’alright,” Stacie said with a beaming smile “Rose loves the panini press.”

Beca scoffed and picked up her glass, chancing a sip of the molten liquid. It hissed as she swallowed, and she blinked away the residual prick of pain that collected behind her eyes. Stacie glanced behind her at the group of girls that she had come in with- doctors like her, she supposed. They all had that tired professional look that the woman beside her carried.

“Listen, uh, how long are you in town? I’d love a chance to catch up in a setting with better lighting.”

“A couple of weeks, at most. We have to settle his estate.” She grimaced at the technical term. “I’ll be around.”

“We’ll catch up, promise?”

She gave Beca a squeeze on her shoulder and a sympathetic smile, but she didn’t say it again and Beca was thankful for that. She watched as Stacie went to the four other colleges that were in her inner circle. They all asked questions and cast wary looks her way- she lifted the glass and gave a smile before turning back to the bartender. She was cleaning out a glass and eyeing her.

“Promise,” Beca mumbled, tipping her head back the rest of the way, finishing the glass of bourbon she hadn’t even ordered.