#its like they looked at everything that made the first season good n removed it all. no warmth no intensity no emotion its so dead

[toastsnaffler]

finished the first ep of the bear s3. I feel like I just watched a 36 minute long m&s advert 😶‍🌫️

[thatsdemko]

something new - l.stroll

masterlist | pairing: Lance stroll x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: exploration is key to a relationship, and Fernando is a helpful hand for lances significant other.

warnings: smut (18+) + mentions of Fernando + oral (m receiving) + fingering (f receiving)

a/n: idk what it is with inexperienced reader! x Lance it is just a pair I like to write. shoutout @monzabee for being the motivation to write and being the reason I retouched this draft after MONTHS of not writing.

you were sheltered well as a child. you went to bed at 9pm, you didn’t drink, you didn’t party, and your homework was always finished before midnight. you were a good girl in your parents eyes, but something changed when you went off to college abroad.

Monaco was the home of the infamous race track, it was also well known for its parties and its celebrities who occasionally visited.

you had all plans to stay the good girl you were and keep to yourself, but those brown eyes, and devilish smile screamed to you. how could you say no to that?

however, you didn’t take things far with Lance. he knew you were rather protected from the world, and it was obvious when the first time he made a move you were shocked at everything. so Lance knew, you were far from inexperienced. you’d never once touched yourself or even explored your body in the ways he, or many women, did.

which leads you here. to asking the bold questions you would be too shy to ask Lance to now asking Fernando.

“princesa, while I do enjoy your company,” he starts rather quickly, shoving you into his drivers room so the engineers would stop from overhearing you ask about cocks, precum, and much else, “I think you should ask Lance.”

“but he’ll just laugh and tell me I’m not ready.” you pout, a rather convincing argument for the elder gentleman to begin talking.

“what do you wish to know?”

—

permanently scarred, you make your way out of Fernando’s drivers room almost thirty minutes later. every question you’ve ever had was fulfilled and weirdly enough, you wished those questions were to have stayed in your brain.

but now you know everything— well mostly everything, Fernando left you with the task of buying a vibrator and finding ways to pleasure yourself before allowing Lance to do so.

“you look,” Lance pauses, his eyes dramatically scan your body, “pale? what happened?”

“oh nothing!” Fernando intrudes carefully slipping you a piece of paper written in a horrid scribbles, but it’s merely everything you’ve talked about with bullet points on how to pleasure Lance.

the color returns to your face rather quickly and brightly, and before you could shove the paper into your jean pockets, Lance is plucking it out of your hands.

“ay, cabrón!”Fernando gently slaps the side of his teammates head, “not for you… well not yet.” Fernando smirks handing the paper back into your hands and leaving quicker than he arrived into the discussion.

“not yet?” Lance quizzes, and he looks so adorable with his eyebrows knitted close together. you’re so lucky the engineers were calling him to get ready for testing before he could dare ask a question you immediately would fold to the pressures of answering.

you quickly steal a glance at the sheet, seeing what exactly was put on there

1. relax jaw

2. wrap mouth around tip

his scribbled handwriting was barely eligible to read, but the two bullets were all that you could get yourself to read before feeling like all eyes were on you. sweat was glistening across your forehead as you fold the paper into tiny squares and decide to divert your attention on lances pre-season testing and leave this topic behind.

—

“do I have to pry it out of you?” Lance crosses the room, a giddy smile on his face as he climbs across the mattress to where you sit reading. his lips connect with yours and they trail down your neck. you feel the comfort of the paperback book swiftly removed against your thighs, his palm racking up your side, “come on tell me, what’s nando telling you?”

“Lance,” you attempt to whine, but it turns into a giggle when his facial hair tickles a sensitive spot against your neck. you end up folding, attempting to push him off your body, but you can’t help but love his lips lingering against your skin, or the warmth of his hands on your hips.

you definitely weren’t ready for sex, but you were certainly ready to dive into that list Fernando had given you. you’d wanted to see how all of it would play out based off the first two points.

“well?” he pulls away, collapsing his body beside yours, his head rests against your shoulder, “you were gone for thirty minutes and when you came back, it was like you’d seen a ghost.”

he hadn’t worried about you and Fernando being alone. if the age gap wasn’t the thing to not worry him, it was you coming back shell shocked that did.

biting your bottom lip you move to close the gap between you and Lance, delicately placing a kiss against his lips, “can I try something?” you whisper, carefully pulling away, “you can say no.” you quickly add nervously knowing Lance would turn you down anyway.

he cautiously nodded his head allowing whatever desires or wants you had take over. your acrylic nails ghost his skin as you work his shirt up off of his body revealing an area you so dreamed about.

“why’d you ever hide this from me?” you gasp practically pushing yourself off of him to stare at the beauty of his glowing golden skin and how his body curved perfectly like an hour glass.

rather than replying with words, he forces his lips against yours to get you back on track. thinking straight once again, your trail down to his pants and swiftly remove his shorts around his thighs, “can you stand up for me?”

nodding he gets up off the mattress allowing his shorts and boxers to fall into a pile beside his other dirty clothes. alas, there he is. all of him, everything Fernando ever described was right in front of you.

from his shaft to the tip, Lance was hard. you’d expected this, and climbing off the bed to your knees was the last thing he expected.

“woah,” he backs up carefully, you tilt your head upward, brows knitted in confusion, “are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“yes.”

Lance steps forward again and watches you ready yourself. you’d only read the first two points, but by relaxing your jaw and wrapping your lips around his tip, you did what you’ve only ever read in books.

“f-fuck that’s good.” Lance’s hands quickly fly into your hair, his hands are like a guide for what he wants and it’s easy to follow based on the tugging and the moans that escape his lips.

you take the chance to explore what your tongue feels like against him. it’s smooth and slick, but he tastes just as you had imagined.

you explored all sorts of things down there in the two minutes you had before Lance prepared you for his cum. you racked your teeth gently across the skin, you slurped his pre-cum, and you even had a small taste of cum before Lance drew back from you.

“where did you learn to do that?” he asks walking off to the bathroom to find a towel to clean himself.

it’d be awfully embarassing and weird to admit his name, so you simply shrug and tell him about the books you’ve been reading and how they guided you through this process.

“awfully naughty books.” he chuckles to himself throwing his boxers back on.

“how do I do that to myself?” you quickly ask halting lance in the process of re-dressing himself.

“how do you do what?” he asks playing dumb even though he knows damn well what you’re asking.

“how do I get myself to cum?”

red flushes his whole face, words fail to form at his lips as he watches you, doe-eyed and innocent. absolutely painful for his cock.

“well? tell me or I’ll ask Fernando myself—“

“this is how you do it.” he cuts you off watching a smirk lift to your lips, “when you’re alone and no one is watching, you can touch yourself in all sorts of ways you’ve desired.” he finds his answer pretty satisfying, though looking across at you, says otherwise.

your mind still races. alone? why’d you have to be alone?

“but what if I want you watching?”

you watch him bite his bottom lip, running his hand across his face, “cause then you’re just torturing me.”

“and you didn’t think that wasn’t just torture?” you ask moving across the mattress and into his lip, your legs straddling him, “you think it wasn’t pleasurable to listen to you moan, yet I couldn’t do a single thing about it?”

you can feel his heartbeat, your hand rummages across his chest, “let me,” you move off of his aching cock and swiftly remove your shirt, “show you how you make me feel.”

a soft groan escapes his lips as he takes the chance to look up at the ceiling hoping maybe god could interfere, but there’s no use. no praying could stop the twitch in his dick when he saw you were already pantyless when he turned back.

“fuck.”

a smirk seems to be your response of the day. you gracefully move your fingers down your chest that’s covered in lace and travel them all the way down to your pussy. Lance parts your thighs for him to see, “now take your finger,” he instructs, placing his cold hands against yours, and guides your index finger into your entrance, “and feel yourself.”

a soft moan escapes your lips, feeling your slick folds. he guides your finger until you can’t reach anymore and it’s his turn to take control. he slips two fingers inside you and you feel your body clench around him. he begins to pump his fingers slowly, the feeling aches, but pleasure arrives at a certain point.

“that’s your clit, baby.” he mutters and his finger does it again. he watches your back arch up, your eyes fall towards the back of your head and you can’t hold back the gasp that just keeps escaping each time he touches it.

“atta girl, let it out. come on, don’t be shy.” he encourages you, your legs visibly shake until you can’t hold it any longer and warmth exhales onto his fingers. you’re unsure if it’s normal to watch him, but he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean, “not so innocent are you now?” he smirks.

“Fernando’s a good teacher.” you sigh content with the nights work and couldn’t wait to ask more from his elder teammate.

[darksiders-junkie]

Hello! Welcome back 😊

Could I request a female reader getting stuck under the mistletoe with War at Christmas dinner and having to explain the tradition of kissing under it to the big guy?

Thank you and Merry Christmas!

Of course! I hope you enjoy this dearie! And happy holidays!

Everything about the Christmas season was great! The scenery blanketed in a fresh, crisp white. The joyous music. The beautiful blinding lights and decorations. Family and friends coming together to enjoy one another's company with eachother. The delicious foods. Watching someone open the gift you picked out from them, receiving gifts no matter how small and just knowing someone thought of you. Everything was amazing.

And it was something you truly wanted to share with the horsemen, War especially. Even if they hadn't ever celebrated or even just understood the meaning behind it! If anything, it made you want to celebrate with them more!

But the one thing you despised about Christmas currently, the one thing you had wished you never put up was the dreaded mistletoe. Why should you have put it up? It wasn't like you were dating any of the horsemen, even if you had thought of a specific younger brother in that light..

Currently being caught under it with none other the the youngest sibling, War, himself was agonizing.

His cute puppy head tilt at your odd reaction of running into you. God it was awful, you could just see yourself now. Red as Rudolph's nose, trying desperately to look at anything but the man standing before you. A fidgeting mess, and you could just hope he couldn't see you were sweating.

You just knew he needed a clue, looking up to the mistletoe praying you had mentioned it to him before. But you obviously hadn't when you could visibly see his confusion worsen. Looking to you as if you were crazy, as if saying "That is just a plant, why would you react this way over something so small and insignificant?" But he thankfully doesn't comment on that.

"Are you alright (Y/n)?" It comes out as a little grunt, but the concern is still evident.

"Y-yes, yes. Just, uh, the mistletoe and all.." As if that would explain anything to the man. Obviously he couldn't get the first hint because he didn't know anything about the tradition.

"What of it? If you're allergic to it, I can toss it away for you." He's already reaching up to get rid of the petty little thing bothering you.

You're tempted to tell him that yes, you are very allergic and want him to whip the evil little plant into the sun, but it doesn't seem fair to lie to him. You sure he'd be pretty unimpressed even from a little lie like that, and it took you so long to get him to have a normal conversation past just grunts and nods.

"No, I'm not allergic, it's apart of the holiday so please leave it up." You need to get a grip. It's just a silly little tradition, it's not like you HAVE to participate in it with him. Even if you'd really like to.

"Then what is the problem?" He's beyond confused, but he does drop his hand from the plant to leave it up.

"Just um.. just a Christmas tradition. It's nothing." You knew very well that wouldn't be the end of the conversation. War was far too curious for his own good.

"Tradition? Of what kind?" And there it is. That curiosity that most certainly killed the cat. Or more accurately you, his curiosity embarrasses you more often then it really should.

"Its just, for us humans, if you get caught under the mistletoe you have to.. Well you have to kiss the other person." Could you get more red? You probably did become more red despite the impossibility of it.

"Would that mean we have to kiss? Why? What is the meaning for it?"

You know it's just because he's curious.. but it almost feels like a rejection. You think you'll hate mistletoe forever after this.

"Well the ancient story I know was to increase the chances of.. marriage.. for a woman. And that if she wasn't kissed, she could still be single next Christmas. With each kiss a berry is removed until there are no more berries.. But uh for more modern day, it's just seen as bad luck not to kiss whomever you ran into under the mistletoe.."

War gives a little hum of acknowledgment, which just furthers your embarrassment. God is it time to go to bed and cry yet?

You keep your head hung from the embarrassment running through you, more then surprised when War lifts your head up by the chin and ducks down to give you a kiss.

It was just a little peck, so fast you barely had time to realize what was happening. Glad to the gods above that you were quick to kiss back despite not being all there before he pulled away.

He gave you a little smile, and man did you wish he always smiled. He looked pretty somehow.

"There. Now you won't have bad luck."

Well now you want to give him more kisses, as many as you could. But from the sound of it, he's doing it so you won't have bad luck, which sucks but at least kissing you wasn't so repulsive he refused to.

"Thank you.."

He just keeps surprising you when he leans down to give you one more before reaching up to tug a berry off and set it in your hand. You're so glad you bought a real mistletoe.

"And now you won't be single next Christmas, and your chances of marriage have increased."

Was he.. hinting he wanted to be with you? Or are you delusional?

"War-"

"Unless you'd prefer to be single. I.. there is no pressure." He was quick to interrupt, he smile deeming just a little.

"I.. I don't want to be single." You give him a smile. Moving to grab onto a piece of his armor, and leaning up. Glad he took the hint and leaned down to give you another kiss. Heaven, this is what it feels like.

He seemed happy when you pulled back, pushing your hair out of your face. "Its dinner time now yes? Would you like to sit? I'll make you a plate since you made dinner."

"Thank you War."

Oh you couldn't be happier, letting him wonder off to make you a plate, and moving to sit down in your spot with a big smile that more than confused the other horsemen. Whom had just shrugged it off, deaming it to just be due to the holidays.

When in reality it was all due to a silly little plant and a big hunk of muscle. Mistletoes just might be your most favorite thing of the Christmas holiday, despite hating them just moments prior.

Although you couldn't help but to feel War felt differently about them, with how heavily he avoided them with you the rest of the night. Or perhaps, he just didn't want you to get stuck under one with anyone else.

[anabdaniels]

Family reunion

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader (works for plus size reader)

Word counting: 1.7k

Rating: +18

Warning: Clothed sex, squirting, fingering.

A/N: This is the part 2 of Choosing gifts.

Main Masterlist | Cowboycember Masterlist

“Honey, calm down.” Jack said probably for the fifth time.

“I’m trying, but it’s not that simple.” You sighed while Jack parked in front of his family’s ranch.

“Darlin’ ain’t the first time you spend a day with my family.” He said while turning off the car.

“But it’s the first time I'm doing it on Christmas and after finding out that a few of your relatives don’t like me.” You raised your eyebrows, making Jack chuckle and cup your cheek with his hand.

“Just to remind you that just less than half of my relatives will be there because not even my parents like their siblings and my mother already told you that if was a choice, I’d be the one kicked out of family parties instead of you.” You couldn’t hold a quiet laugh since your mother-in-law in fact had told you that.

“Alright, you’ve made a good point here.” You finally agreed shaking your head.

As you two got out of the car, Theo, the family dog was the first one greeting you, followed by the figure of your sister-in-law, already looking excited and not thinking twice before wrapping her arms around her brother.

“Hi, little one.” Jack said while also holding Julia tight as it always happened between them.

“I was missing your old ass.” Julia said pretty sincerely, making him chuckle.

“We saw each other yesterday, Julie.”

“I don’t care. Your Mary Poppins service in my childhood is showing its consequences now.” She winked with a smile, looking very much like Jack, then letting him go and turning to you “Hi, sister.” She said already hugging you tight, making you smile widely, besides being only 15, Julia seemed to like a lot to spend time with you.

“Hi, darling.” You hugged her back, feeling Theo sniffing both of you animatedly.

Exactly as Jack had told you a hundred times, everything worked amazingly; all his uncles and aunties were amazing with you, just like his parents and cousins, you felt more at home than ever and Jack’s mother spent the whole day talking about how much she loved the necklace you gave her.

After an enjoyable cozy day, you and Jack were back home, accompanied by the tone of gifts his family had given to both of you, letting everything on the living room floor and getting comfortable on the sofa.

“I wonder if your mother had taken off the necklace.” You said with a soft chuckle taking off your shoes.

“Knowing her, I’d say that our dear Olivia will stay with it for a week.” Jack affirmed while letting his hat resting on the coffee table “But now we need to talk about your Christmas gift.” He said with an excited expression.

“Yes, we need, because I’m dying in curiosity.” You said holding your hands together.

“Gimme a second.” He walked through the hallway and entered his office. No more than two minutes later Jack was back with a box of considerable size and sat next to you. “I hope I got the best option.” He said while giving you the gift.

“Knowing your skills to choose gifts, I already know you’ve made an amazing choice.” You answered with an excited smile while carefully opening the wrapping paper, getting more curious when it revealed a white paper box with no identification and not thinking much before removing its lid, smiling widely as you saw the content of it. “There’s no way.” You said while grabbing what was inside the box, a deluxe edition set with all seasons of your favorite show ever. “Jack Daniels, you’re the best husband in this world.” You left your gift on the coffee table and leaned forward, sinking between his arms and holding him tight.

“I’m glad you liked it, honeybee.” Jack pressed a kiss on the top of your head with both arms around you.

“I loved it.” You affirmed sincerely and leaned your head back to look at him “And I should warn you to not have high expectations about your gift.”

“Just the fact that you spent time on it is more than enough to already make me happy with it.” Jack said with a warm smile, kissing your forehead.

“Very well then.” You smiled and got up, grabbing him by the hand and walking upstairs. Once in the bedroom, you made him sit on the edge of the bed. “You wait right here, ‘cause we don’t want any spoilers.” He nodded promptly despite dying out of curiosity and with what you had in mind. You walked inside the closet, feeling butterflies in your stomach with the realization of what you were about to do. Trying not to overthink it, you got dressed, took a look to make sure your hair was in place, and then took a deep breath to create the necessary courage. “Close your eyes.” You said before taking another deep breath.

“Alright.” Jack answered closing his eyes, dying in curiosity about what your plans were and completely clueless about what could it be. You walked inside the bedroom, trying to keep your composure and control your mean thoughts that insisted on telling you that you were being ridiculous doing that. Jack tilted his head slightly when he felt the familiar weight of your body on his lap and couldn’t resist his curiosity anymore, opening his eyes and smiling widely as he saw you in that black lace nightgown, looking like the best thing he had ever seen in front of his eyes.

“I tried to think about an actual good gift, but I couldn’t think of anything, so…” you got interrupted by Jack’s thumb resting on your lips.

“My love I can assure you that nothing in this world could be a better gift than my dear wife looking so beautiful.” Jack answered sincerely resting both hands on your waist, caressing the sides of your body. “Just for the record, I don’t mind getting the same gift next year.” He stated while shamelessly checking out your cleavage.

“You’re way too kind with the pathetic things I do.” You said quietly, looking down.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jack grabbed your face between his hands “Don’t talk like that about such an amazing surprise and your amazing look. You’re a stunning woman and for sure the best gift I could ever receive.” Before you could form a retort, he leaned forward and kissed you, passing one arm around your body and pulling you closer, letting you feel the restrained erection inside his jeans, giving you the assurance that he meant every word he said.

Before you could realize it, Jack’s hands were all over you, groping hands full of your curves as he kissed all over your jaw, neck, and chest, inhaling deeply to enjoy the scent of your skin mixed with your perfume. Laying one hand on your hip, Jack smirked against your skin as he noticed you had nothing under the nightgown, making Jack even more turned on. With no ceremony, Jack undid his belt and zipper, freeing his throbbing cock and looking at you with a desirous gaze.

“I promise you I’ll give you all the attention you deserve later, honeybee, but I need you now.” Jack said in a hoarse voice, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, taking a moan from both of you as he rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, slowly sliding inside you.

Your hips involuntarily moved forward to meet his thrust, making you clench around him and grab the collar of his shirt tight. Heavily carried away, Jack grabbed your hips, making you move at a steady pace on his lap, giving you not much options beyond whimpering and contorting on his lap, leaning your head back with your eyes closed hard.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’m starting to love Christmas.” Jack said in a heavy breath, admiring the vision of your body bouncing so beautifully on his lap. Eager for everything he could get, Jack slid the shoulder slings of your nightgown down your arms, gently pulling the fabric of your cleavage carefully, releasing your breasts and grabbing both of them, thumbing your nipples and kissing every inch of skin around and between your breasts.

To be honest, you didn’t expect that to have such an effect on Jack, and it was ruining any self-control you could have, making you ride him intensively, sinking your hips on his lap, taking every inch of him inside you unbelievably effortlessly, as you kept your head leaned back and your fingers twisted on the collar of his shirt.

Immeasurably catch by the whole moment, Jack was aware that at every move of your hips accompanied by those sweet moans, his rationality was being thrown out of the window and he knew that holding back wouldn’t be possible for much longer, so Jack took the most reasonable decision, moving one hand to between your legs and rubbing your clit at the same time he leaned forward and kissed you, everything at once almost overwhelming you and pushing you over the edge, resulting on you whimpering against his lips and clenching unbearably much around his cock as you felt your body making his jeans wet as you sank into your orgasm. Completely mesmerized by everything going on, Jack let himself go, moving both of his hands to your back to keep your body pressed against him. He bit your lower lip softly while erratically thrusting deeply on you, strongly sinking his hands on the soft flesh of your back as he came, filling you up while letting out a hoarse groan.

Keeping you in his arms, Jack let his body collapse back on the bed, letting you rest comfortably on his chest as both of you got your breaths back. After a few moments, he caressed your hair and kissed your forehead while nestling you better in his embrace.

“Sugar, can I ask you something?” too lazy to do anything else, you simply nodded and waited for him to proceed “Don’t wanna sound like a leech, but I’d love to have the same gift for my birthday.” You couldn’t hold back a genuine laugh at his brutal honesty, shaking your head slightly and getting more cozy against him, aware that he was serious about it.

[chyberriesss]

One shot!

First love

Bill denbrough x reader

The middle of fall season, leaves that owned the color of rust and spices fell from the trees as we stared into each other's eyes.

"how are you, william?" I simply ask although he did not answer. "W-w-what are you d-dd-doing here?" "Its stan's wedding, im his friend too y'know" i chuckle at his question with such an obvious answer "well i-i-m doing good and you?" He replied at my earlier question adding such sas.

"im glad you're doing good i have to go now before bev figures out im missing, see you around bill" i say and left not wanting to hear his reply. He was my ex y'know and is still my first love, will forever be. Im glad he's doing well although it stung how it seems that hes happy without me while i suffer every night recalling what i did to him...

_____________________________________________

"What are you doing exactly?" I chuckle as his attempt at painting "i-i-m obv-v-viously p-p-aint-ting you!" I says scrunching his nose covered with different colors of paint "thats suppose to be me??? I look like THAT??" I ask in horror "AHUH! Pp-p-pretty right" he exclaimed winking at me. I laugh at his actions when he suddenly stands up and hugs me! "Bill you're getting paint all over me!" "T-thats fine a-a-n a gr-gre-great artist is never cl-clean" he smiles at me as he hugs me tighter "i wish wecould stay like this forever" i whisper as i rest my head on to his chest "me too" he says before kissing my forehead.

_____________________________________________

"where are you taking me bill???"

"j-just trust me, we're al-almost t-th-there" he chuckles as he leads me up some hill i assume? Covering my eyes with his hands.

"t-t-tada!" He removes his hands exposing a picnic set up on. A hill near the outskirts or derry maine.

"i love you" was all i said as i admire his work and efforts.

We sat down and talked about random stuff for hours while eating the sandwhiches he prepared "extra c-c-cheese like you want" he says smiling as i eat the wonky sandwhich he made.

After eating i start reading a book he prepared for me to read as he lays on my lap "you're pretty" he says out of the blue "d-dont say that" i stutter, covering my red face with the book as i look away. He chuckles "i l-l-ove y-you" he says "i love you too bill" i smile "damn, y-y-yknow one day i-i-ill say i l-l-love you without st-st-stuttering he pouts sitting up crossing his arms making me laugh at his cuteness, making him laugh as well. We laughed like fools inlove for hours.

_____________________________________________

"lets break up"

"what...?"

"look bill, i cant stay here with you and being in a relationship while being far away from each other? I cant handle that" i say staring at him, as much as it hurt, it had to be done for me, and for him.

"a-after everything? S-seriously?!? You know d-d-damn well you can handle that s-stop with t-the ex-c-cuses [name]..." Bill said with an expression too sorrowful hard to describe "i have to focus on my studies i cant abandon everything i worked hard for bill!" I shout at him. I didn't mean to.

"s-s-so you're abandoning wh-wh-what we have?"

How could i ever recover from what he said?

"...."

"answer m-m-e [name]"

"i can't let go of my dreams bill" i simply stay

"am i the easiest t-t-thing y-you could throw -a-away?" He asks me, choking on his own words, holding back his tears

"no"

He stares at me

"you're the only thing....i can throw away"

I walk away, tears going down my cheeks not stopping, how could i say that when i know its all a lie?

I stop for a second when my keys dropped from my hand

"i love you..." I heard him say, not stuttering for the first time

If i looked back i know i would run back to him and abandon my dreams, my future, i cant do that so i picked up my keys and left.

Leaving my first love standing in the rain.

Hurting him was the only way for him to move on, a person like me who prioritizes their future over the person they love doesn't deserve anyone specially bill.

This is super super!! Rushed so im really sorry if there are any grammatic errors i wrote this at 3am so yeah my mind is not working properly, anyways i hope you guys enjoyed it!!<333

[saintlike78]

Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.

(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)

By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)

Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.

The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.

Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.

Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.

James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.

Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.

As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.

“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.

Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.

“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.

Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.

“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.

You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.

Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.

When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.

“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.

“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.

“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.

“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”

“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.

You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.

“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.

“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.

“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.

Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”

With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.

You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.

“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.

A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.

James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.

Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.

Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.

Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.

Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.

Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.

You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.

You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”

“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.

“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.

You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”

“We love you too, pretty baby.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,

If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!

[writtendaydreamm]

One Rule

Daniel had one rule he followed on race weekends. No sex.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut

It was a Grand Prix weekend and the first one y/n’s been able to attend all season. While Daniel was excited to have his girlfriend cheering him on during qualifying today, he wasn’t too thrilled about what a tease she’s been as of late. She was proving to be quite the distraction. Not exactly what he needed leading up to a big race.

It was a bit out of character for y/n. She normally tried to be as unassuming as possible during race weekends. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardize Daniel’s focus or performance. She mostly stayed out of sight and out of mind allowing him to get into the right headspace. She understood being a driver’s girlfriend required sacrifice. Fortunately for her, Daniel never asked for much. He really only had one rule during race weekends. No sex.

Now, if you know Daniel, you know he’s not really a follow-the-rules type of guy. He was more of a rule-breaker if anything. So for him to even have a no-sex rule at all, meant it was something he took seriously.

This all started very early on in his career after a horrible performance during a race he happened to have sex prior to. Needless to say, that race was one of the worst he’s ever had. Whether that incident was a fluke or if the sex really did affect his performance, only God knows. Either way, since then Daniel made it a rule to never have sex before driving. Whether that be for free practice, qualifying, or the actual race.

In accordance with his no-sex rule, the couple kept it PG these past few days sharing nothing more than some chaste kisses. It was driving Y/n up the wall. This rule never really bothered her before. But it had been so long since she and Daniel got to spend any real time together. It’s probably been around a month since they last saw each other in person. Every part of her missed him. His presence. His touch.

If she weren’t so desperate for him, she’d be impressed by his willpower. If the roles were reversed she would’ve given in by now. Y/n was not making it easy for him at all. Teasing him every chance she got. But to no avail. Dan still hasn’t budged

Y/n was just about ready to accept defeat until last night when Daniel’s resolve started to show signs of wavering. In a last-ditch effort to try and turn Daniel on enough so he’d finally fuck her, y/n wore nothing more one of than his t-shirts to bed. She was hoping for the best, but not expecting much. Daniel was already settled under the covers, headphones on, and ready for bed by the time she got there. But around a few minutes after she joined him, he got up to take a shower. Odd, since he had already taken one just before bed. Then after hearing a faint but familiar grunt coming form the bathroom, it clicked. He was taking a cold shower to get rid of his boner.

So when Y/n got dressed this morning, she didn’t choose the skimpy summer outfit she was wearing by chance. It was a calculated decision. One that would hopefully break whatever was left of Daniel’s resolve so he’ll finally toss that no-sex rule out the window.

When y/n asked him to tie her top from behind, Daniel nearly lost it right then. All he wanted to do was pepper kisses all along her neck and shoulder. How he wished he could just turn her around and pepper kisses along her breasts that were supported by nothing more than this flimsy top. But remembering his rule, he took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside.

Today was qualifying and Daniel was determined to earn a starting position within the top 5. He needed to be laser-focused on driving his race car at its limit today. Getting everything he can out of it. He had half a mind to lock y/n up in his car for the rest of the day the way she was acting right now. She was being a total tease the entire drive from their hotel to the circuit. Doing all the things she knew would turn him on. Like playing with his curls. Lightly massaging that spot on the nape of his neck. Running her hands over his thighs. Hiking her already short skirt up even higher.

Daniel knew exactly what she was doing. It’s not like she was being shy or discreet at all. And as much as he wanted to give her what she wanted, to rip the delicate fabric off her and take her in the back seat of his McLaren right then and there, he couldn’t shake the thought of his no-sex rule from his mind.

Swallowing hard, Daniel used every last bit of his self-control to resist her. He was so tense, his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. Relief washed over him seeing the circuit was only a few minutes away now. He wasn’t sure how long his will would’ve lasted.

When Daniel finally parked the car, there was no denying the very visible tent that had formed in his jeans.

“Y/n,” Daniel groaned irritatedly. There were going to be cameras everywhere. There was no way he could walk out of his car like this.

She quickly feigned innocence. “What?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You know what. I can’t go out on the paddock like this right now.”

“Well all you have to do is let me help you take care of that then,” y/n pouted.

“Y/n, c’mon now. You know we can’t,” Daniel reminded her. His voice lacked any actual conviction though. “I just need a second to relax.”

Daniel closed his eyes, started to take deep breaths. In and out. In and out. It seemed to work as the tightness in his jeans started to let up.

That feeling didn’t last long though as y/n used this moment to feel him up through his jeans. Daniel’s eyes shot open as he inhaled sharply at the feeling. His hand gripped her wrist tightly but made no effort to remove her hand.

Y/n’s pussy throbbed at the feeling of how hard Daniel was for her and at how miserably he was failing to contain himself.

“The last time I fucked a girlfriend before a race I had the worst race of my life y/n,” Daniel warned her weakly.

“Well obviously, your ex wasn’t a good enough fuck,” y/n countered, her hand squeezing him through his jeans just a little. “If you won’t fuck me then at let me at least suck you off baby. How about that?”

Daniel couldn’t think straight. His mind wanted one thing, and his dick wanted something else. Her suggestion seemed like a good idea. It would be like a loophole. It wasn’t technically the same kind of sex that his rule referred to. A blowjob should be fine, right?

He took a glance around the parking lot to make sure no one was there. His McLaren was tinted pretty dark, but not dark enough to conceal them completely. A little part of him hoped someone would be outside so he had a reason to resist her. But a much larger part of him was incredibly eager to feel y/n’s lips around him.

“Fuck it,” Daniel grunted under his breath, throwing caution to the wind. He released his tight grip on her wrist and instantly took her lips in his for a hungry kiss.

Y/n smiled against his lips as she started palming him through his jeans. She pulled away, shifting in her seat to better face him. Her hands eagerly began undoing his belt and jeans.

Once she got them undone and Dan helped her pull them down mid-thigh, his dick sprang up. Wasting no time, y/n began pumping him with her hands.

Dan threw his head back in pleasure. He ran a hand through her hair, fingers lightly raking her scalp. As good as this felt right now, he knew how much better her lips would feel around him. His hand on her head began pushing her face towards his dick.

Y/n scoffed at his impatience but she figured she’d teased the poor guy long enough. Rather than fighting his hand, she allowed him to guide her head closer and closer to his dick. When she got close enough, y/n dribbled a little spit onto it.

“Fucking hell, y/n,” Daniel moaned. He may have controlled his urges for her all weekend, but it wasn’t easy. He was ready to let go and reach m the release she was about to bring him to.

When y/n finally wrapped her lips around him, he bit his lip hard to hold in another moan daring to slip out. She focused on his tip, swirling her tongue around it. Her hands pumping the rest of his dick her lips had yet to run across.

When she felt satisfied with the attention had given the tip of his dick, she released him from her mouth with a pop. The cool air from the AC still running was a stark contrast to her warm, wet mouth.

Her tongue licked a stripe from the very base of his dick, up to the tip before taking him in her mouth again. She did this a couple more times before finally sinking her mouth down on as much of his dick as she could handle. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail so as to keep it out of her way and to give him a better view.

Daniel could no longer hold in his moans when he felt her start hollowing out her cheeks adding extra suction as she bobbed her head.

“It feels so fucking good, baby.”

Y/n began moving her head up and down faster at the praise.

“Yeah baby, just like that. Just like that,” Daniel instructed her, his voice hoarse and husky. Both hands were now on her head helping to guide her up and down at the exact pace he needed. He was getting close.

Y/n took her mouth off him, needing some air. Daniel let out a low groan as he saw what a wreck she looked like. Her eyes were tearing, lipstick smudged, saliva all around her mouth. What a fucking sight. With his hand still on the back of her head, he brought her face to his for a wet, sloppy kiss. Y/n kept pumping his dick with her hand as their tongues battled for dominance.

Daniel pulled away first, missing the feeling of her lips on his dick. Y/n went right back to sucking on him bringing him closer to his peak.

With both hands holding her head steady, he started moving his hips up into her mouth. Daniel couldn’t control himself anymore. It started off slow and steady. But quickly, it grew rough and fast. Y/n gagged a few times as he hit the back of her throat. Her hands were on his thighs bracing herself as he chased his orgasm.

“I’m close y/n, I’m so close,” Daniel groaned.

His hips were unrelenting as he fucked her face. The rhythm he had going turned erratic. After a couple of firm thrusts, he reached his orgasm coming in her mouth. A satisfied moan left his lips as his hands let go of her head. Y/n tried to swallow as much of his load as she could before bobbing her head up and down his dick a few more times for good measure.

“That felt so fucking good y/n,” Daniel said still trying to catch his breath. He stroked her hair lovingly, trying to tame the mess he created.

Y/n just pecked him on the lips before plopping back into the passenger's seat. After fixing themselves up, the couple walked hand in hand towards the paddock. They shared one last kiss before Daniel went off to prepare and suit up for qualifying.

Out there on the track, he was surprisingly the most relaxed he’s been in a long time. He was in tune with his car and making better decisions on the fly. His lap times decreasing with every lap he finished. At the end of the last round of qualifying, Daniel managed to secure the third starting position for tomorrow. The best starting position he’s had with McLaren so far.

Maybe that no-sex rule was doing more harm than good.

When he entered his McLaren motorhome he was immediately greeted with a big hug from Y/n. “You did so amazing out there Danny.”

“Reckon it had a little something to do with that mouth of yours aye,” Daniel said cheekily, running his hand along her back.

Y/n slapped his chest playfully. “Well, I mean at least now you know that stupid rule of yours was just bull shit.”

“Nah I’m not so sure,” Daniel started, before shooting her a wink. “I think we need to test it out again tomorrow before my race. See how well I perform then.”

[floral-poisons]

for your love

pairing: trey clover x gn! reader word count: 723 words warning: n/a notes: i’ve been listening to måneskin continuously for the past few days. so yes this is named after a måneskin song. anyways please enjoy the first of the pining fics i’ve dedicated to writing for the 100 followers milestone! 💗 ao3 link: 🍑🍑🍑

Sore arms were not uncommon. He grew up having sore arms after all from constantly carrying large bags of flour around his family’s bakery. No sibling would be left out from helping. It was a family business. and one of the ways his family showed their love was food. Food was a beautiful love language that, honestly, deserved its own category. Food was universal. Everyone needed food and it was also a very easy way to hide from actually saying “I love you.” Expressing his emotions wasn’t foreign to him, like riddle. But considering how he was raised, it was hard to express his feelings into words.

Which is why he was busy massaging his arms actually.

“I’m a big fan of Black Forest Cake. Oh and Macarons. Turkish delight. And hand pies. Peach hand pies were my favorite. My mom always made them growing up. Remind me of home.”

That was your answer when Trey asked what your favorite dessert was. It was hard to choose! He remembered the thought running through his head upon hearing macaron. Macarons of all things!

But hand pies should be simple. Right?

Not on top of midterm exams when he was stressed and slightly sleep deprived and accidentally messing up the dough. Fresh peaches were also not in season right now so the attempted recipes didn’t exactly taste the way he wanted them too. Canned peaches were a good alternative but he found that you deserved only the best.

At least it was easier than macarons. Those were the bane of his existence (alongside pavlovas). Meringue in general was his least favorite thing to make because of the delicate balance required.

“Brown sugar. Cinnamon. Lemon zest. Lemon juice. And some corn starch.” He mixed everything in the pan and set the spatula on the side. The dough was the next thing to do. “Cold butter. And—”

“Oi! Trey! You need to help me!” Ace bursted in.

“What did you do now?” Trey glanced at the crumbs on Ace’s face. “Oh Great Seven.”

“I accidentally ate the strawberry tart meant for tomorrow’s unbirthday—”

“Crap! I forgot about tomorrow’s unbirthday party!” Trey exclaimed. “Well good thing I’m in the kitchen. Can you run to Mr. S’s shop and get the ingredients?” With a wave of his magic pen, a list appeared in Ace’s hands.

“Yeah...sure...” Trey could hear him mutter under his breath. “Riddle’s going to kill me again!”

“You have to stop eating the tarts we leave out.” Trey removed the pan of peach filling from the stove, letting it cool on the side while making the dough before letting it rest. Now he would have to deal with the strawberry tart.

After about an hour, you walked in, carrying a bag full of the ingredients Trey had asked Ace to buy. You were happily chatting about something (it was really you bragging about your high score on your most recent midterm). “Oh Trey! What are those?” You exclaimed.

Trey could feel his cheeks go red as you approached his side quickly. “Oh they’re, uh, peach hand pies.”

“Really? They look delicious!” They were steaming hot, straight from the oven. “Smell delicious too. Can I have one?”

“Yeah sure. Be careful though because it’s hot.” Trey picks up a small plate and uses a spatula to scoop up a pie and place it on the plate. It did smell very good to him.

“Oh! Hot!”

“Be careful!”

“I’m fine. I’ve eaten things hotter than this.” You did not hesitate to bite into it. The balance of sweetness with the hint of lemon, the slight crisp of the peaches, and the crispy but soft dough was nothing like you’ve ever tasted. Nothing tasted better than your mother’s peach hand pies. But Trey’s came in as a close second. “Trey! This is amazing!”

“Is it?” He smiles.

“Yeah! You need to try it.” You look up at him. “Are you okay? Did you eat today?”

His mother always asked him that question when checking in on him. “I, uh...Don’t think I did.”

“Well then you should eat one of the hand pies you made. They’re really good and you deserve a treat.” Your smile was bright. And you were happy. If only you realized that most guys wouldn’t go through the same turmoil Trey did to make you happy.

[alreadyblondenow]

Hold it all together

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?”

Pairing: Johnny x female!reader, childhood best friends to lovers

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

WC: 1,970k

Warnings: mentions of exchanging nudes, a lot kissing, unorotected sex, mentions of condoms, its just soft sex guys hahha mentiins of dreamies being the reader’s brothers.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. To the

Happy, excited, and sleepless. Today is the first day of Johnny’s spring break and he has been waiting for this day, the moment freshman year started... because this is the only time he can go home and finally see you again.

Johnny has been your childhood best friend and you two are basically inseparable. Well, except when he needed to leave for college. Of course you’re devastated the whole summer just before Johnny leaves. And it was that season, you both admitted your feelings for each other. Feelings that has been bottled up for too long finally and suddenly bursted out during a friendly kiss that turned into a passionate one which led to a slow and intimate sex the night before he left.

It has been almost half a year when that fateful night happened, but everything feels so fresh for him still. After what happened between you and Johnny, your relationship with each other did not progressed to something even more serious. Although you exchange nudes from time to time, FaceTime until the morning and say ‘i miss you’ to each other together with other sweet words.

And that is why Johnny is driving his way home to you with a bouquet of flowers on the front seat of his car, fighting through his sleepiness and keeping himself awake until he reaches your house to surprise you.

When he finally arrived first thing in the morning, he met your mom first and told you that he’s here to surprise you. “She’s still sleeping, but you can wake her up if you want to. She misses you so bad,” your mom said to Johnny. He then made this way to your room with the flowers in his hand and entered quietly, careful not to disturb your sleep. He placed the flowers on your bedside table near a photo he took for you and smiled in awe because you always cherish everything he gave you.

Feeling so sleepy and tired from the long drive, he removed his shoes and joined you under the covers. Slinging his arm around your waist and finally waking you up with soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m home,” he whispered softly. You rolled to face him, surprised but you’re both so sleepy to show it so you returned his hug and hugged him tightly. The moment you laid eyes on him, his eyes were already closed, comfortable and more than happy that he can feel your presence.

And as you both sleep together in your small bed, well, small because Johnny is a big person, you bask in his warmth and meet him in your dreams. Not wasting any second without each other.

“You must be really tired” you said when he finally woke up, raking his soft hair away from his face.

He nodded and smiled at you. Finally. He thought. “What time is it?”

“Almost afternoon. But no one cares,” you said and came closer to him, finally kissing those lips you missed so much. He rolled on top of you, putting his whole weight on you while kissing you breathlessly on the lips, neck and chest. His hands were perfectly placed on your waist, his thumb is drawing small circles on your skin and as if he’s asking permission to lift your shirt and see you without your clothes on.

He pulled away to remove his thick hoodie and plain white shirt, leaving him only with his denim pants. You noticed his body changed a lot, sure the nude photos he sends were great and it makes you miss him more, but seeing Johnny again in between your legs without a shirt on and looking hot as fuck just makes you crave for him. “This is so much better than the photos you send me,”

He let out a satisfied smile and started to unbutton his denim pants and remove it in front of you. You on the other hand, removed your pajama and welcomed him in your arms again. Kissing him deeper than ever and making him touch your boobs and squeeze them, which makes you automatically part your lips and want for more.

“Have you been fucking different girls from different sororities?” You joked in between kissing him and palming his clothed cock.

“Wouldn’t even dare. How can I even think of fucking other girls, knowing that this pussy is waiting for me?” he knew you were only joking and put his thumb on your clothed pussy. Teasing you with the right amount of pressure, careful not to make you cum so early.

“How about you? Have you been seeing other guys?” you smiled and removed your shirt, throwing it somewhere and finally exposing yourself to him. He then kissed every inch of you, hands freely roam around your body, and even tickling you from time to time.

“How can I even try seeing other guys, when I already have who I want?”

You didn’t see but Johnny smiled because of your answer while he’s placing butterfly kisses all the way down your body. Kissing you lovingly and showing you how much he misses you.

After the innocent kisses, you feel him reach for your panties and hook his fingers on the garter, slowly pulling it down while he kisses your inner thighs. Preparing you to what comes next and spreading your legs a little too harsh than expected that you yelped and your body was dragged on the mattress.

“Oops. Sorry, got carried away,” he sweetly apologized to you, kissing you on the cheek before he proceeds again.

That sudden harsh movement was the real Johnny in bed. You’ve only had sex with him once, now is only the second time. But word is, Johnny fucks hard in bed. Everyone knows that because he slept with a handful of girls during high school and you’re just this supportive friend that listens to him talk about a great night or a great fuck the other night.

“Hey,” Johnny snapped his fingers and went on top of you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles before he makes you embrace him. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. I’m just swimming in my thoughts. Uhm, what did you said again?”

“I asked if you want to use a condom”

“Uh. I don’t have one... do you-“

“Nope,” he said with a smirk. You suddenly remember that he loves fucking raw but what you don’t know is, you’re the first person he ever fucked raw. “Just tell me if it hurts. Again. Okay?”

He said, and you nod. Lining his cock on your entrance while he kisses your neck and kissing your boobs as he pushes in slowly. Tighter and tighter, your grip on his shoulders becomes. The familiar stretch of Johnny’s cock just makes your eyes shut and take him whole. Savouring every thrust he gives you, feeling every inch of cock inside you. It’s so big, you tell to yourself.

“Sorry, it’s bigger now because I’m so horny and I haven’t had sex since our last” he explained with ragged breaths near your ear.

“It’s okay,” is all you can manage to say.

He fucked you slow and deep or fast and sloppy. Either way it felt good and it surprised you how long you lasted this time.

Then suddenly he pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he changes his position. Having a better view of your bouncing boobs and fucked expression that never fails to turn him on. “Fuck Y/n,” he whined and reached for your boobs as he moves slower. Matching your moans and groans because he’s so close too. He then closes the space between you two and kissed you on the lips again like you’re about to disappear any second. Holding on to your body so tight that you’re sure it’s going to leave marks. Then suddenly your eyes rolled back and you’re breathing heavily and moaning a little too loud but no one will hear. Your orgasm completely washed you away and its all thanks to Johnny.

You smiled at him and reached for kisses to calm both of you down. “Was it a good one?” He was talking about the orgasm.

“The. Best.” You said in between kissing. “Did you come inside me?” He shook his head no. “Good. I’m not on the pill,”

“Kind of made a mess tho,” he looked to the direction of where he shoot his cum and it was on your lower abdomen and bed sheets. It was thick. His cum was so thick and many, that he was already embarrassed.

“Is it obvious that i missed you?” He asked. Kissing you on your forehead sincerely before he proceeds to clean his mess up.

“I think I need to shower,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll cover for you,”

While you were busy cleaning yourself, Johnny made himself decent again and decided to go downstairs to greet Mark and Jeno, your brothers. And eventually have breakfast with them.

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?” He casually asked them and stuffed sausage in his mouth.

“Heck yeah that’s what I’m talking about man! Yo, just dont hurt her” Mark exclaimed in excitement thens suddenly turned serious.

“I won’t,” Johnny answered.

“And don’t make her miss you too much because you know we cant trust long distance relationship these days,” Jeno added.

Johnny agrees and said, “I will visit her every month”

“Don’t get her pregnant. I mean yet- get her pregnant when it’s the righ time- you get what i mean” Mark awkwardly added.

“O...kay. I’ll use condoms from now on. Anything else?”

“Dude just make her happy like you always do,”

“I will” Johnny said with a proud smile.

“Aren’t you boys should be cleaning the pool?” And the two boys immediately scrammed and quickly did their chores. Leaving you and Johnny in the kitchen with the food. Pinching Johnny’s cheek because now that you can see him clearly, you see a lot of changes.

“Only you can do that to me” he said then caught your hand and intertwined it with yours, he has become bold you notice. He pulled you closer to him while he finishes his juice, but the atmosphere is hetting a little stuffy and awkward so you tried having a conversation.

“Do you want to shower? I still have some of your clothes” you offered.

“Mhmm. Keep those, I have stuff in my car”

You nod and suddenly it was silent.

“Hey y/n, I was thinking of making it official between us. I mean if you want to. I just think that we’ve been flirting with each other for some time now and wed make a pretty good team,”

“ I thought you’d never ask. Took you longer than expected tho,” you put another sausage in his mouth ”The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.”

“Im just scared to fuck it up,” he sighed in relief “thank you for loving me back. I promise to take care of you 5000 more times than before”

“I’ll do the same... and wow you just asked me to be your girlfriend in the middle of our kitchen. How romantic.” He smiled handsomely then suddenly remembered one last thing.

“Oh by the way we uhm we need to start using condoms. I promised mark,”

“What-“

“I know right. Fucking you raw is good but your brother said to not get you pregnant”

“Ugh mark...” you moved your chair and hugged him tightly feeling him kiss the top of your head and cheek nonstop while you continue to eat.

The day may have started filthily, but it ended with a decently soft kiss on your temple from your best friend now boyfriend.

[obsessive-ego]

Late night chats

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Beej chats with you when he knows you're not listening

Fluff, pining

It was a long rough week, you were absolutely exhausted, you could barely stand, your knees wobbled as you finally arrived home, everyday this week has been hell between work using you to cover everyone and do everything, and personal family drama you had to attend too, you were glad to finally be home, safe, quiet, where nothing was expected of you, you could finally recharge.

Kicking your shoes off and tossing your bag and jacket aside to deal with later.

As you shamble to your bedroom, eager to swap your work clothes to something less constricting, you tap away on your phone, ordering dinner, you were too tired to cook anyway.

In your bedroom, you were quick to ditch your uniform in replacement for an over sized shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

Removing your bra felt like a weight has been lifted, as you slip on your pajamas you felt 100 pounds lighter, you flop down on your bed, barely clinging to being awake, as you were about to doze off, your phone blares to life with its loud ringtone, you groan in frustration, you force your body to get up and dig for your phone in your pants pocket, you miss the call by a second, before you could check who it was it buzzes again, you nearly drop the phone, startled, you fumble with the gadget, quickly answering the call, assuming it was your incompetent coworkers needing a question asked.

"What are you wearing?~"

You frown, knowing that voice anywhere

"Beetlejuice-"

"Oh baby, you will be wearing me by the time I'm done with you~" he moans

You scowl at this joke, too tired to really deal with his sense of humor, yes the ghoul could easily make you laugh with their lewd jokes, but honestly you were so tired nothing else really mattered.

"What-"

"So we gonna hook up? Or are you standing me up?"

"What?"

"Y/n what day is it?"

You're silent for longer then youd like to admit, beetlejuice starts before you could respond

"Friday, movie night, so, let's hear that magic b word sweetheart~" he chimes in a sing song tone.

As tired as you were, I guess a chill movie night would be fine, if you doze off during you could survive the teasing, wouldnt be the first time.

"Hello? Sugar? I'm not hearing my name come from that pretty little mouth of yours~"

You snap back, guess you zoned out longer then you thought, you utter a quick sorry, and shuffle to the living room.

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice"

Your apartment goes dark, you sigh, the ghoul had a thing for making an entrance

"HONEY IM HOME" the ghoul shouts, within seconds you are hoisted up from behind in a tight bear hug, Beetlejuice's head resting on you shoulder "babes I missed ya, you're such a mean little thing forgetting about our movie night, or were you just playing hard to get~" he purrs that last part.

Clearly embarrassed you try your best to squirm out of your predicament, the demon only cackles at your actions

"Keep wiggling like that sugar and your gonna give me a-"

The ghoul was interrupted by a knocking at your door, his eyes light up, before you could get a word in, you are dragged along to the front door

"Its showtime"

...

It was amazing how you were still able to order take out with all the nonsense beetlejuice did to the delivery guys, but it just goes to show that it's all about money, and let's be honest, nobody is gonna believe them, yeah sure, a zombie looking guy took the pizza and then turned into a pile of snakes.

...

Movie night was the same as always, Beej successfully snuggling up close with an arm around your shoulder, ever since the change of seasons he found you no longer took the lead on getting up close and personal, meaning he had to take initiative, not that he minded, since regardless of the temperature, you didnt mind him cuddling up, which was nice, you were so warm to the touch, he adored it.

Movie night was always a blast with the demon, yes you've seen this horror films 100 times, but watching them with Beej always made them more lively, his enthusiasm was so contagious. But as much fun as the evening together was you were officially out of energy, you tired in vain to keep awake, last movie night you dozed off midway through you delt with merciless teasing for a week, but all your effort was for not as you felt yourself slip into dreamland.

"Alright Doll what's up next in our-" the demon finally noticed you were out, he frowns, yeah it was cute, and sexy when you fell asleep on him, but it was really becoming kind of a pain on how hard you worked and how much it drained you, breathers are delicate, and besides he wanted to spend some real legit alone time with you.

The demon snaps his fingers and the two of you reappear in your bedroom, you being tucked into your bed, beej floats up beside you in a lounging position.

The ghoul stares at you, watching you naturally settle into a deep sleep, once a few moments have past and beetlejuice was sure you were out cold, he leans back placing his hands behind his head and let's out a deep sigh.

"Ya know doll, the other week I was in the netherworld for business, bumped into an old pal, buddy was going on and on about this demon he was banging, and boy, the look on his face when I told him I was banging a hot little breather, man, fucker was jealous, I mean we arent technically banging, yet." He whispered

This was a habit of Bj's chatting to you when you were asleep, he didnt need to sleep, so this was a nice way to pass the time.

"I showed him that photo of us lyds took, ya know the one, you were sitting on the couch playing with you phone and I had my head on your lap? Yeah, I keep it in my wallet, hell, it's the only thing in there" he snickers

You mumble something unintelligible, Beej hums in response

"Of course not sugar, I dont keep condoms in there, i prefer to go raw, demons cant get breathers pregnant anyways, wink wink"

The ghoul sighs reclining back and putting his hands behind his head

"Ya know, while I was down there, I had to file some paperwork with my Mom, the bitch she is, was going on and on about how I need to stop screwing around with breathers, she just doesnt get me, you know how it is"

You grumble in response

"Oh, yeah I know I told ya a sandworm ate her, shes back, it's a long story" he huffs with a scowl.

"Yeah she was saying how theres no point of me tricking another breather for a green card to live again, and I should leave you alone, fuck her, ya know, I dont need to trick ya for a green card, i know you're head over heels for me babes, and once you finally admit you love me and we fuck around for a bit, then I'll pop the question." He trails off looking in your direction, your were laying on your side facing the demon, as if you were awake listening to his every word, the demon sighs, staring at you sleeping form, god slash satan  he had no idea what he did to deserve you, his sweet caring breather. He could always come back to you, you were all his, you just didnt know it yet, and that was fine, for now, soon he'll get you to confess your undying love.

"What would I do without our little chats" he sighs, his eyes fixated on you, a purple hue begins to creep into his hair, he sighs again

"The only time I can be honest with ya huh babes?"

You mumble in response

"Its not like I dont WANT to be honest with ya, its just, come on, you gonna believe me? A demon from hell falling head over heels for a sweet little breather? I can barely believe it" he stares at you, his hair now completely purple.

"You know I love ya right?" The confidence in his voice fading, the question sounding more desperate then anything, as if the ghoul needed you to know or hed die again.

"...beee" you sigh

Beetlejuice perks up at the sound of your voice "bee?" Were you dreaming of him? The ghoul could just melt at the thought

"...beetlejuice"

You were

The purple in the demon's hair began to mix with hints of pink, his little breather was dreaming of him, the ghoul leans into you, his face inches from yours, studying your face in hopes to crack the mystery of what kind of dream you were having

"...beetlejuice" Again you mumble his name in your sleep

"Do you dream about me often babes? Ya know I dream of you~" he chuckles

"Beetle-"

Before you could finish the b word the demon shakes you awake

"Fuck" you say with a start "beetlejuice what are you doing" you grumble less then thrilled to be woken like this

"You were about to say the b word 3 times babes, had to put a stop to it" he chuckles sheepishly "you were babbling my name away in your sleep, guess you missed me huh?" His nervousness turned into a more confident jab

"I was? I-" you babble

"If you REALLY miss me baby cakes I could slip into bed with ya? Keep ya company" he leans in inches from your face, a moment passes and beetlejuice can see the hesitation in your face, yes he's snuck into bed with you multiple times, but he always left before you noticed.

"I wont do anything creepy" he begs grasping your hand as if to reassure you

"....okay" you whisper

The ghoul's eyes light up at your response in a flash he sheds his suit, leaving only a pair of boxers and slides under the covers next to you, the ghoul is over come by the warmth beneath the covers, and quickly latches on to your even warmer body.

"Good night Bee" you sigh "I'll try not to say your name 3 times"

"Night sugar♡" he cuddles into your chest making you the bigger spoon, though you were the smaller out of the two of you.

As you drift back into a deep sleep beetlejuice begins talking to you again

"You really know how to spoil a guy huh sugar, I guess I can wait a little longer till you say the 3 little words, as long as ya keep treating me like this♡ good night y/n, I love you"

[zealous-whispers-of-us-redux]

i will look for you in every lifetime

A/N: Happy New Year everyone!!! Thanks for being so patient with me and for 250 followers. I hope you are doing okay! I love u all and thank you so much for readin'! <3 <3

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Everything was different now that she had Bucky. There was so much talking that it made her mouth feel like dead fish disintegrating from the salt in the sea. There were smiles and kisses and hand-holding and sex (though Bucky still referred to it as 'mating'). She felt fathomless as the world opened up to her with possibilities she had long forgotten. She sang only songs of love, now, though they had the same effect on humans. Loneliness was no more because she had Bucky.

Bucky, who would soon come upon his first mating season with a mate. The water was warming and the yellow thing in the sky stayed out longer each day. Bucky was 'hungry', she could see it. Squirming around early in the morning with a red belly, always touching a part of her, never letting her out of his sight. Two months ago it would have felt smothering. Now, she couldn't imagine life any other way.

She woke to Bucky's soft noises as he rutted against her in his sleep. It was too early to wake up, though her belly rumbled with hunger. It had been a few weeks since she caught a human.

"Bucky. Sea has not anything to show more fair. Dull would he be of soul who could pass by. A sight so touching in its majesty. Our sea now doth, like a garment, wear the beauty of the morning," she sang before whispering in his ear: "It is morning."

He woke up, though with a furrowed brow like he was not ready to do such a thing. When at last he opened his eyes, she kissed his nose, making him crinkle it and snuffle.

"Good dreams?" she asked.

"Very good," he sighed, holding her tighter. "Why're you awake? 'S too early."

"Food."

"Ah, of course."

"Are you hungry?"

"I could eat, yeah." Bucky peeked an eye open. "Wan' me to come with?"

"Are you going to fall asleep and make me do all of the work?" she teased.

"Pro'bly yeah."

"Then stay here and rest."

"Mm, okay," Bucky said, already dozing. "Love you."

"Me too," she told him before turning tail and swimming off.

As soon as she left the cave, she dove into deeper waters just as she liked to do. Alcibiades, the frilled shark who had decided to make her acquaintance, joined her. Together, they set off to find food. Alcibiades found a few fish along the way, but she disregarded them. She could sense that there were humans nearby. She merely needed to position herself just so.

She headed towards the surface, cracking open her eyes underwater. She saw one pair of human legs underneath the water, but that was too easy. She continued onward, diving down into the deep, joined by Alcibiades. She began to hum to herself as she swam, feeling light and happy at the prospect of returning to Bucky with a good meal. She quickly caught a few of his favorite fish that she stuffed in the pouch she wore around her waist. Another gift from Bucky. She sang louder, letting all who would hear know that she was loved.

"'O, where are you going?" said reader to rider. 'That valley is fatal where furnaces burn. Yonder's the midden whose odors will madden. That gap is the grave where the tall return.' Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds or bends with the remover to remove. O no! it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering-"

A yell cut through the quietness of the waking sea, and she stopped swimming. It sounded like- but it could not be. Bucky was in bed sleeping. She was to bring him breakfast, and then they would go exploring. There was a second shout, this one louder but muffled as though the creature had something in its mouth. Familiarity nagged at her. But no, it could not be. He was a warrior, and she gave him a weapon. It was impossible.

Then there was a loud noise, a sort of thudding sound that shook the water, a scream of her name, and all was quiet again. Faster than ever before, she turned around, dove down into the deep, and raced for home with her heart thudding loudly in her ears.

She was not that far from home, and her fear made her quick. She swam fast, losing Alcibiades in her haste. She sent a silent apology to the shark as she arrived at her and Bucky's cave. The outside looked precisely as she'd left it, but she was not fooled easily. When she had found what she was looking for, streaks of blood in the sand, she let out a soft cry of a song. It was like following a trail of breadcrumbs. A drop of blood here, a human footprint there. The remnants of a net and Bucky's rusted knife were buried in the sand next to their sleeping area, and she screamed- a piercing sound that promised death and begged for blood. The sea went still as fish swam away from her. She screamed again, rage turning her vision red. Bucky was gone. Whatever stole him would die, simple as that. Tracking was not a problem for her. They made it easy, these villains, making Bucky bleed. She could track blood like the shark that she was, and she knew what Bucky smelled like in any situation. Though, who took him and why, she didn't know. She threw her bag into the corner of their cave. She could not be burdened while she searched. The shell that Bucky had given her all those months ago stayed around her neck. There was no way she would leave that behind.

Power coursed through her veins as she followed the scent of Bucky's blood. She was a child of Phorcys and his consort Ceto and could feel their power lending a hand. The humans thought her a monster like the Gorgons, but she was so much more than that. She was kin to Scylla and befriended Chrybadis. She had dragged men to their deaths, had emptied entire towns. She was the hidden danger that lurked in the deep. She was in love, and they took him from her.

__

The humans were fast. She despised thinking such a thing because they were humans, but they were. She had lost Bucky's scent a while ago, but she kept swimming in the same direction. The water was getting colder and colder the longer she swam, which meant they were headed north. She did not do well in colder waters. She could feel it affecting her speed. She risked moving upward from the deep just enough to stop the chattering of her teeth. Bucky's scent was completely gone now, and loss clawed at her heart. The fear of failing him almost drove her to stop, but she had hunted humans far longer than she was now. She would not stop because Bucky was counting on her. Taking a chance, she rose higher in the water, searching for any sign of Bucky or any sign of a creature who could help her. Up ahead, she spotted a pod of ten seals- selkies by the size of them. She sent a silent word of thanks to the skies above.

Selkies did not speak any language she knew, and they could be cruel when they wanted to be, but they were her best chance. They were brilliant and knew these waters better than she. She bet that they had seen the humans who took Bucky, perhaps even knew them. She decided to approach them. As she assumed, the one nearest to her startled, unused to seeing her kind so close. She sang to them gently before they could attack, soothing them without any coercion in her song. She wanted their trust and would not get it if they fell under a spell.

When finally they were calm, she showed them the mating shell that Bucky gave her. She was taken aback by how truly magnificent these creatures were. She had never been so close to them nor interacted with them. Sure, she got them to trust her by singing to them, but she had stopped minutes ago, and they had yet to attack. Their matriarch was assessing both her and the shell.

"He is mine," she said. "He was taken."

The matriarch -more human than animal, she now realized- snorted and bobbed her head, gesturing. It took her a moment to recognize that the matriarch was pointing with a flipper.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, dipping her head.

The matriarch snuffled before turning around and swimming away. The pod followed their matriarch, and she suddenly felt alone and afraid, like she was about to walk into something terrible. But she had lived and fought alone for far longer than she had Bucky. She knew what she was doing.

She kept swimming, and her determination was rewarded just five minutes later as she scented Bucky. There was no more blood, but she was so close to the surface that she could smell his skin. She risked a chance to surface to peek into the darkness above the waves. There, bobbing in the water, she saw a massive vessel. It was the biggest one she had ever seen, and it certainly had to be with the cargo it held. As she approached, she could see Bucky floating lifelessly in a container filled with seawater. He was battered and bruised, his eyes closed. The water was cloudy with debris and blood. She wanted to scream but bit her tongue as she swam down into deeper waters to form a plan.

The vessel was docked, she had noticed. There were three humans on board. There were more on the land, no doubt. She was only one siren, but it had only taken two to draw in Odysseus and his twelve men, according to legend. (It eventually changed to three, but she was disregarding that). The difficult part was she had no idea how many men were hiding in the dark, ready to spring out to aid their companions still onboard the ship. The men could have also plugged their ears as a precaution against her kind, though she knew that she was the only siren anywhere near back from where they stole Bucky, so it may have been unlikely.

She was so busy plotting that she missed the flicker of lights and the swish of a tail underneath her. Before she could even blink, she felt teeth sink into her tail. She startled and rotated quick, grappling with the creature who was gnawing on her tail without much luck. She snarled, and the other creature did too, lunging. They fought in a flurry of teeth and nails. Faster and faster, they flipped each other over, driving the other into the seabed whenever each had the upper hand. She managed to claw at the other creature's side with enough force to break the skin. She got a forehead slammed into her nose for her trouble. She cursed as she felt her nose bleeding. The other creature's eyes dilated at the sight. She turned tail and swam straight down, searching the seafloor for anything that could be used as a weapon. When at last she wrapped her hand around a rock, the other creature had stilled, head tilted in interest.

"You are a siren," it said.

She nodded, eyes narrowed because it spoke a language she understood.

"You are too?"

"I am."

"You do not look like any siren I have ever seen before," she said, grip loosening around the rock.

"Nor do you."

They sized each other up for a few moments until the additional siren broke the silence.

"What brings you to these waters?"

"The humans in the large vessel above have stolen something from me. I have come to take it back."

"They do not part with their things so easily."

She narrowed her eyes, teeth bared.

"What do you know about them?"

The other siren's gaze was piercing. "Many things. They call themselves Hydra, after-"

"The creature that Heracles murdered, yes. I am aware of the myth," she said impatiently.

"There are many of these men. Once you kill one, more appear. Hence the name. They traverse the waters around the world to find creatures to experiment on. They wish to create the perfect warrior."

"If they wanted that, they should have taken a siren," she said without thinking.

The other siren's eyes flashed.

"They have. And they tortured her until she escaped."

"I see."

"They are a formidable enemy."

"I see."

"You will need help."

"I work alone."

"That is what I believed too."

"You will help me, then," she decided.

"And what if I refuse?" the other siren asked.

"You will not. I am sure this area is not your home, but here you stay. Clearly, you are out for revenge."

They glared at each other for a while until she looked away.

"Have you sang to them?" she eventually asked.

"I cannot," said the other siren through gritted teeth. "They took that from me."

"Oh." She suddenly felt sorrow for the other siren- an emotion she had not felt until Bucky brought her back to life. "What do you call yourself?"

"Natasha," said the other. "And you?"

She said her name, and Natasha nodded once-

"What did they take from you?"

"He is a mer by the name of Bucky," she said.

"He is the one in the tank," Natasha said.

"Yes."

"They will take him on land soon. They have a hidden cave deep under the earth where they will hurt him until he submits or dies. Rescue is futile."

"But you escaped," she remarked.

Natasha nodded. "I had help. A man who decided he disagreed with what was being done to me. He is dead. They killed him for his disloyalty."

"I see."

"It is futile," Natasha said again.

"I will try anyway."

"Why?"

"Because Bucky is my mate," she said candidly. "I love him."

"What is love?" Natasha asked.

"It is remembering your name after a long time without it. It is being full even when you have not eaten. Listening to mer stories that you do not understand and letting him touch you even though you despise it. It is the gifting of shiny things. Useless trinkets, but he gives them to me because it makes him smile. It is hunting for him even though he is capable," she explained.

It took a few minutes for the other to parse through this, but Natasha was more emotionally intelligent than the average siren. Natasha nodded again.

"I will help you."

"Good, it is decided," she said. "Let us make a plan."

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Nonstop - Ch. 1

After making a name for himself as only the second rookie in the history of the sport to win the championship, Jeong Jaehyun has an insatiable thirst for victory. Written off by his detractors as a stroke of luck, he’s determined to prove them wrong, embarking on a reckless quest to win another championship, regardless of the lives he may ruin, including his own. You haven’t been a part of his life for a long time, but you’ve been the only one who could reason with him. Can you save him from himself, or is it too late?

Pairing: racer!jaehyun x ex-girlfriend!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, motoGP au, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: implied emotional manipulation, bad father-son relationship (i’m sorry mr. jeong), descriptions of racing accidents, racing injuries, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing

Chapter warnings: none

Total word count: 13.9k

Chapter word count: 1k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: i want to apologize first and foremost for how long this got, and how it may read like a k-drama at certain times. also my knowledge is mostly in F1, so if i mix up terms please forgive me. this is dedicated to all the motoGP fans out there, and everyone who responded to my informal poll, hope you all like it!

Disclaimer: i am not a medical professional or a motoGP expert, so please excuse any inconsistencies.

“That was a dangerous move and you know it!” Taeyong was furious, rounding on Jaehyun as he got off his bike, the mechanics descending upon it.

“Relax, it worked, didn’t it?” Jaehyun just smirked. He removed his helmet and shook his hair out, wanting to make sure he looked good for the victory podium.

“You can’t keep going on like this, Jaehyun,” Taeyong wouldn’t back down, grabbing Jaehyun by the shoulders to force him to look at him. “At the rate you’re going you’ll hurt yourself, and be a danger to the other riders.”

Jaehyun just removed Taeyong’s hands from his shoulders, before leveling him with a cold look. “I didn’t hire you to care about that stuff. Just do your job and I’ll do mine, which is winning.”

The mechanics surrounded him at that point, whooping and cheering, steering him towards the podium where he would celebrate his fourth straight victory that season. Taeyong stayed behind, shaking his head, filled with worry at the downward spiral his friend was going on. 

Jaehyun always had a passion for winning, a competitive streak that existed in him long before he took up racing, but the intensity had ramped up this season. After he won his first championship as a rookie last season, many chalked it up to luck, and the fact that his father owned the team and therefore he got all the advantages. He’d been determined to prove everyone wrong, becoming more aggressive in his racing style, and taking risks he’d never taken before.

Taeyong had agreed to be Jaehyun’s manager when he’d asked him, since they had been lifelong friends and Taeyong knew him best. And now, Taeyong was seeing a change in his friend that was really starting to concern him.

---

You were just getting ready for bed when your phone rang, which was odd since no one you knew would normally call at that time of night. When you looked at your phone it was an international number that you didn’t recognize, and you almost ignored it, except you were really curious as to who it could be. Cautiously, you pressed answer, and heard a voice you hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Y/N?”

“Oh my god, Taeyong!” you were filled with so many emotions at the sound of his voice, good and bad, mostly because he brought to mind your ex-boyfriend, Jaehyun.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, sorry to call so late,” he began, and his voice sounded hesitant, weary.

“It’s okay. What’s going on?” you asked, noting the anxiousness in his tone.

“I hate to bring this on you, I know you haven’t been a part of his life for a while,” he paused, and you knew exactly where this was headed.

“Is it about Jaehyun?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, but he didn’t need to say more. 

You and Jaehyun had been high school sweethearts, inseparable, until he had the opportunity to go abroad and train as a motogp racer. He’d agonized over the decision, partly because he didn’t want to leave you, but you reassured him that you’d be busy with college anyway, and that you could video call all the time and visit on breaks. You were confident that everything would work out, and in the beginning it did, but as time wore on, as college got more difficult and racing more intense, the stress of it all took its toll, and you were fighting more than anything else. You ended up being the one to break it off, and he hadn’t wanted to, you’ll never forget his face as he pleaded with you to talk it out with him, but even with your heart breaking you felt there wasn’t anything more to talk about. You hadn’t heard from him since.

Despite the pain of your breakup, you couldn’t help but follow his career, especially as his star rose. You had always been proud of him and his accomplishments, because you knew how hard he worked for them. You’d felt an insane burst of pride when he’d won his first championship as a rookie, but that turned to concern when you’d read in news stories about his change in racing style, the recklessness evident in it definitely worrisome for all involved.

“Y/N,” Taeyong continued, his voice soft, “I need you to know that you’re my last resort, I’ve tried everything to get through to him, but he just won’t listen to me. At the rate he’s going, well, I don’t need to tell you what could happen.”

You had always appreciated Taeyong’s honesty, clearly he was worried about his oldest friend. One of the things that you and Jaehyun had fought about was the dangers inherent in moto racing, an accident almost always fatal. He’d reassured you that safety was always his priority, but somewhere along the line that had been forgotten.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Taeyong,” your heart broke at the thought of Jaehyun risking his life on the track, but you didn’t know what influence you still had over him. “I doubt he’d listen to me now.”

Taeyong chuckled softly. “Y/N, we both know that you were the only person who could ever reason with him. He’d never listen to me, never listen to his parents, but you, well, you could argue that the world was flat and he’d end up agreeing with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Taeyong’s words, but you were still unconvinced. “Still, I’m not sure…”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m desperate. This is a life and death situation now. If he can’t be talked down I’m pulling him off the team, and you know he’ll be devastated if he doesn’t get to race. It’s his life.” Taeyong spoke firmly, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. “All I ask is that you try, and if it doesn’t work, then he’s off the team.”

You thought about the years he’d worked hard to get to where he was, the sacrifices he’d made. You thought about how excited he got whenever he talked about it, how his voice would get higher and his actions more animated, his eyes sparkling. You could fight for him this one last time, it was the least you could do after breaking his heart.

“Okay, I’m in.”

[literaila]

tear me apart

spencer reid x reader

request: Omg hi! Could you write a BAU x reader based on the episode 23, season 7 “hit”. Where the reader is inside the bank while the robbery happens and tries to protect Will? I’m in love with your blog and would really love to read this! ♥️

warnings: mentions of guns, mentions of blood, bullet wounds, angsty, robbery, a little bit of fluff 

oh and also I changed basically all of the plot. and skipped the second episode. its basically the same though!

It was an important day. 

The moment Y/N opened her eyes she knew that. 

She could feel it in the air, could feel it in the arm that was resting around her waist, in the warm breath on her neck, in the way she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, in the soft kisses she knew would be coming as soon as he woke up. 

It was a very important day. 

Y/N smiled and cuddled in closer to him, his warmth was intoxicating and she was always so cold. 

She loved important days. Loved how Spencer never forgot how important they were to her, loved how they both always took the days off, how they both just spent the day together because they deserved it, loved how it was always their secret little bubble that no one else was allowed in. She loved that Spencer loved them just as much as she did. She loved everything about them. 

And today was one of them. 

She could practically feel the butterflies in her stomach flying around, gliding in different directions, and moving her insides around. She wasn't particularly fond of the feeling, but it was a nice reminder of just how much Spencer affected her. 

She laid there for a long time, just listening to him breathing, feeling his chest rise and fall against her back. It was a lovely feeling. It almost made her never want to get up. 

Almost. 

When she finally felt his breathing change, when she could tell that he was about to get up when the clock struck 9:30 and like a child on Christmas that couldn't wait any longer, she jumped up out of bed, hoping that the loss of her presence would be enough to wake him up. 

She rushed to the bathroom to brush her teeth before he could catch her. If they wanted to get on with their day together, she would have to finish the few tasks she had left on her to-do list. And then she could spend all day with him. 

With just him. 

The butterflies fluttered around her stomach some more. 

She was standing in front of the mirror, still brushing her teeth when Spencer walked into their bathroom. His eyes were still tired, and he was still slouched from sleep. But he was smiling. Y/N grinned and pretended not to notice him in the mirror. 

His eyes were soft as he leaned against the wall, he knew she knew he was there, but it was nice to stare at her. Just a moment with no interrupts. A moment meant just for staring. 

She turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. Her lips were turned up in a half-smile. Spencer raised his hands innocently and smiled back at her. 

“Good morning,” he said as he walked over to her, decreasing the amount of space between them significantly, and resting his hands around her waist. She tried to talk with toothpaste still in her mouth but, eventually sighed and gave up, and turned away from him and his warmth while he laughed at her. 

When she turned around she felt amazed by the smile on his face. It was one she didn't get to see often, one he kept hidden away for days just like this. She briefly thought that it was her favorite smile of his. 

She moved her hands up and intertwined them around his neck. She felt him pull her in, could feel his smile against her back. It was contagious. 

They stood there for a minute, holding each other and smiling. 

And then Y/N untangled her hands from around him and walked out of the bathroom. She laughed as he protested, hurrying into their closet so she could get dressed. 

Spencer, already knowing what she was doing, whined “Why are you getting dressed?” as he watched her grab a shirt from off its hanger. 

She looked over to him and gave him a teasing smile. “I have an errand to run,” she answered, moving to get some jeans. 

Spencer grabbed her wrist before she could reach them. “Don't you know what day it is?” he asked with a pout, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

“Of course I know what day it is.” she snorted, gently removing herself from his grasp as she continued to get dressed. 

“Then why are you leaving?” 

“Because I have to get something done,” she said as if it was that simple as if he would just nod and send her off. 

“Y/N…” he whined, moving in front of her so she couldn't walk away from him. 

“Spencer, it'll only take an hour,” she said softly, reaching up on her tiptoes to peck him on the forehead, and then moving past him towards the door. 

He followed after her as she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her bag. He was giving her a death stare as she continued to get ready to get out of the door. It was an important day. She shouldn't leave. 

“Spencer” she laughed looking up at him and grabbing his face between her hands softly. “We have the rest of the day. I’ll be back.” 

He just frowned at her, not saying anything, upset at her actions. 

She tried not to grin at him. 

Y/N pulled him closer and pecked his lips, once, twice, three times, and then he was pulling her in closer, removing the distance between them and glued their lips together. They stood in their doorway, and Spencer refused to let her go, refused to let her leave on a day like this one, refused to let her leave. Even when she tried to pull away he kept her stuck to him. 

Though it wasn't as if she was using all of her strength, her efforts to break away from him were futile as they both knew neither of them wanted to let go. 

Eventually, she built up enough resolve to actually pull herself away from him. 

She couldn't stop the smile from taking over her face. “I’ll be back sweetheart,” she said sweetly, and while Spencer tried not to, her smile was too infectious not to smile back. 

She kissed him one more time. Just for a moment. 

“Happy Anniversary,” she whispered against his lips. 

And then she was walking out the door before Spencer could protest. 

***

Spencer woke up to the sound of gunshots. 

Y/N had been gone a while. 

When she had left, he let the disappointment boil in his stomach, let himself be upset for a moment, before he thought of her words, of her soft kisses, of the way she was holding him only a couple of minutes ago. He thought about her for a moment, and his disappointment faded into anticipation. He couldn't wait to spend the day with her. 

But it was agony to wait. 

So, he had decided to try to go back to sleep, although he wasn't tired, and he was wide awake, sleeping would be a good way to pass the time. So he walked himself back to bed lazily, and while he’d been doubting that he’d actually be able to go back to bed, he’d fallen asleep much quicker than expected. 

And then he was startled awake by the loud bolt in his air. 

Immediately he looked up, his instincts kicking in, his eyes bolted around the room, trying to find the source of the loud noise. And after a moment of searching, he looked down at his bedside table and saw it was just his phone buzzing. 

Not gunshots. 

While he was relieved, his face turned sour when he saw the same on his phone. JJ. JJ meant that something was going on. JJ meant that there was a case, meant that Spencer wasn't going to get his perfect day with Y/N, that he wasn't going to get any time to himself on his day off. It meant that they had to go into work. 

He sighed and answered the call. 

“Hey Spencer, we’ve got a bank robbery. Hotch wants us to come in.” JJ listed off quickly, ignoring the fact that Spencer hadn't even greeted her. 

“A bank robbery? Why are we-” 

“I’ll send you the address.” She said, and with a click of the phone, JJ was gone. 

And Spencer had work. On their anniversary. 

It was their anniversary. It was the anniversary. It was the anniversary of the day they’d first met, of the day they’d both caught each other's eye.

It had been three years. 

Not long enough. 

The memory, that seemed so far away, still hadn't faded. Spencer could still smell the warm vanilla scent in the air, could still feel the cold air brushing against his neck, could still feel the rumbling of the voices around him. He could pinpoint everything that had happened, could remember exactly how it was. They’d met at a farmers market. A place that was completely unrelated to work, a place where they’d both seen each other for the first time, a place where they’d thought they’d never see each other again. 

Spencer could still see the light in her eyes, could still see the innocent way she walked around, looking for something. He thought about what she had told him a year after that day, a year later when they’d met officially through work, and had developed a fondness for each other. She told him that he’d seemed brighter than everyone else, that she’d watched him for a while before she left, that she was trying to commit him to memory so she wouldn't forget the light coming off of him. She’d told him that on their first anniversary. 

The memories that Spencer held of Y/N would never fade. 

And it was only their third anniversary, it was only three years together. 

Spencer smiled slightly. Let himself dream of her for a moment, dream of the day they could’ve had together. He let himself drift off for just a minute. 

And then he was back in reality. 

And there was a bank he had to get to. 

He pretended he didn't still hear the ringing of a gunshot in the air. 

There was no gunshot. 

***

Colonial Liberty Bank. 

Three robbers, one murder, lots of hostages. 

Seven bank robberies in seven months. 

Spencer was the first one on the scene, his teammates quickly followed, JJ being the last one there. As soon as he saw her run into Will’s arm, and rush to ask him if he was okay, Spencer understood why she had been so rushed on the phone, and why it was important that they were there. 

The robbers had killed 7 people before this robbery but had always been classified as robbers before murderers. Now, it was clear that there was something else going on. 

“No one kills 7 people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer noted as Hotch explained the circumstances. 

There were two men and a woman, they were being called the “Face Cards”, and no one knew what they were willing to risk to get out. 

There were too many hostages. 

Will explained what had happened when he and his partner had responded to the call when they’d showed up and tried to come up with a plan to get inside the building without anyone getting hurt when his partner had died from a bullet in the head. He explained how they were just getting out, how if he’d been a minute later they would’ve been gone. He told them about the man he had shot. 

There wasn't enough information yet. 

Y/N still hadn't shown up. No one had pointed it out yet, but Spencer had noticed. He wondered where she had gone, how far away she was, how soon she would be there. 

He chose not to say anything. She would be there soon. She was probably five minutes away. Probably. 

Working outside gave the robbers an advantage. Working outside meant that Garica had limited resources, that more people could get hurt, that they had to make do with what they could bring to the scene. 

The team walked into the truck Garcia was working out of, it held screens displaying the surveillance cameras in the bank. All of them watched as the female looked around, scoured around every part of the bank. They could all see the two males on the floor, one of them hunched over, holding his chest. That must have been the one that had gotten shot. 

It was strange that they hadn't cut the videos. It meant that there was something they wanted the police to see. None of them could figure out what. 

“They’re overconfident. Arrogant, even.” JJ said. 

“The face card masks add to their narcissism. Their personas are the royalty of poker.” Spencer listed off, as he messed with his phone, texting Y/N again, hoping she would answer this time. 

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss look at past robberies, that's going to be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to. Dave, I want you to hand negotiations. And Morgan, strategize tactical options with the MPD.” Hotch reported back to them, they all gave one last look to the cameras, checked to make sure nothing else had happened, and then they walked away, ready to get to work. 

Spencer walked out of the truck with his head held down, staring at his phone, typing incessantly. When he knocked into another body he looked up startled, his eyes struggled on the figure beside him. 

“Chief Strauss,” he said, clearing his throat, and continued walking away. 

There was nothing he could do until he got back to the BAU, and while he had the time he was going to find out where Y/N was. 

Before he got into the car, he heard a voice say his name behind him. 

“Hey, Kid!” Morgan shouted, stopping Spencer before he could leave. Spencer looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “Have you seen Y/N?” Morgan asked, finally noticing that she wasn't there with them. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at his phone. He hoped he would see the three little dots, see her typing, just so she could tell him that she was stuck in traffic, that her car had broken down, just so she could tell him there was a reason she wasn't there. 

He frowned and looked back at Derek, his eyes squinting at the sun. “No, I haven't heard from her.” 

Derek looked at him doubtfully and noticed the way Spencer's eyes were worried, frightened at the prospect that she wasn't with him. “I’m sure she's fine kid.” Derek reminded him, not wanting Spencer to be distracted while they were working. 

Spencer nodded. Derek was probably right. She was fine. She was fine. He nodded once more than got in the car. 

She was fine. She would be there soon. 

**

“I’ll be right back.” the King whispered quietly. “Who the hell is this?” he answered, picking up the phone. 

Her heart was beating too loudly. 

“My name is David Rossi. I’m with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?” There was a slight murmur of the phone. But she couldn't hear what they were saying. 

“Alright. I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.” The King answered, waving his gun around angrily. 

She looked over to see the Queen purse her lips, her eyes suddenly getting hard. Her body language was much more closed off than the other two. 

High demands, she thought. 

“Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we’ll give you all the medical help you need.” 

The other man on the floor coughed, blood escaping from his lips. She knew that if they didn't send in help soon he would die, and there was a chance the rest of them would too. 

She looked at the faces around her, all of them panicked and shocked. Some of them seemed as if they were in denial as if they couldn't believe something like this was actually happening to them. The most present feeling in the room though was tension. She could feel it between every emotional tie that laid between the hostages, she could feel it in their petrified faces, in the way the Queen was pacing the room, in the way the King didn't seem to notice.  

There were children in the room, she knew that even their innocence wouldn't save them. 

The King suddenly started laughing. “I can't do that. I need the leverage,” he said, a threatening tone to his voice. 

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I’ll see what I can do.” the voice on the phone had gotten louder, and while she still couldn't make out the words, she knew that they were probably demanding for the women and children to be sent out. That was what her team would ask for. 

The King looked directly at her in disbelief. And while she knew that he didn't know, that he had no clue, she was still scared that something was going to happen. She didn't want him to look at her. 

“He's trying to negotiate.” The king said, now looking at the queen. 

“Negotiate?” she said in disgust. She noted how the Queen's stance hadn't changed even when the King was talking to her. She noted how there didn't seem to be a connection between them. “We’re not playing games.” 

She didn't like the tone in the Queen's voice. She didn't like the way she was looking around the room. She didn't know what to do. 

She watched as the Queen forcibly moved a little girl away from her father. She listened to the little girl begging, to her Father pleading with the Queen. 

She could feel her blood rushing, could feel her head clouding with rage, could feel herself reaching for a gun she hadn't brought with her. She shouldn't need her gun. 

What could she do? 

“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.” 

She looked around at all the people, looked at the King, feeling desperate, hoping that he would disagree with the Queen, that he had some morals, and had some sense of humanity. But all she was met with was a King who was nodding his head, holding up the phone so that the person on the other line could hear. 

No no no. 

“Do that and you get nothing.”

No no no. 

And there was nothing she could do. She only listened as the Father begged the Queen to trade himself for his daughter, only listened as there was a gunshot. 

A cry of a little girl. 

“You better send in some help, or more people are going to die.”

**

“Sir I found a thing. See, I took height and weight measurements and I crossed them with known related offenders who specialize in bank jobs-” 

“Show me.” Hotch interrupted, too busy to try to understand anything Garcia was saying. 

“Yes. These are brothers, Chris and Oliver Stratton. They are petty thieves from Philly, turned bank robbers in New Jersey.” Garcia said, her typing insistently in the background. “They were put into jail for two years after an attempted heist went sour, and they were released two months before the first Face Card robbery, and their measurements are a match.” 

Strauss suddenly spoke up, watching Garcia look through their files. “Why didn't the NCIC database connect them?” 

“Because the brothers have never used a third partner, and shooting people is not part of their M.O.” 

“Looks like they were not very successful criminals,” Hotch said.

“Maybe adding a woman to their team improved their game.” 

And then suddenly Garcia gasped. 

She stopped typing. Both Hotch and Strauss looked over to her, confused. 

“S-sir?” she stumbled out, her mouth going numb. 

And she was staring at the screen, staring at the girl on the screen, at the girl she knew so very well. 

They were all staring at her. 

**

“Reid?” Emily asked for the third time, trying to get Spencer out of his daydream. 

He wasn't paying attention. 

She still hadn't answered. She still hadn't even read his text messages. This wasn't like her. This wasn't something she would do. 

Where was she? 

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat and shook his head. Morgan said she was fine. She was fine. He had a job to do. “The women chose a different type of victim each time. It's not just the security guard. It's been a mother, a manager, and a young child-” 

**

“You can't tell Reid.” Derek insisted. 

“Morgan-” 

“No. He was freaked out earlier. He can't know about this right now, not when he's trying to help Emily and JJ.” He continued. Spencer couldn't know. If he didn't, there would be nothing he could do. 

“We can't just keep it a secret,” Hotch said sternly. 

“Hotch. He can't know.” 

**

They still hadn't sent in a medic. It was going to be too late. 

She didn't want to think about what would happen if it was too late. Without the Jack, there was no telling what the King would do. 

Olly. She committed his name to memory. It might help later. 

The Queen was still pacing, still waving her gun at every person, still trying to scare all of them even though there wasn't any chance of any of them trying to escape. The Queen looked more and more irritated by the minute. 

She hoped the Queen wouldn't shoot someone again. She hoped they would send in a Medic. 

The phone started ringing. 

“Why hasn't anyone come in yet?” The King said desperately, but he didn't sound angry this time, he just sounded like he wanted to get the Jack out of there. She wondered why they were so close, what was so special about their relationship? 

“We’re sending in the Medic now Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.” 

“Hurry.” The King said, slamming the phone back down. “They know our names.” the King announced to the Queen, calmer than she would’ve expected. 

She wondered when they were going to make her go stand with the rest of the people, why they hadn't forced her off of the ground, why she was still allowed to sit. She wondered if they knew who she was. 

She told herself not to think about it. 

The Queen took her mask off, set it down on a counter close by. She tried to commit the Queens features to memory. “Not all our names.” The Queen said arrogantly, moving a couple of steps forward. 

She wondered what the Queen was doing. Why she was so confident in herself. She watched her put on lipstick, it looked like she was performing a show. 

She looked up and saw the cameras. 

There were cameras. 

The cameras were still on. 

If the camera were still on that meant someone knew she was there. That meant someone was watching. Someone was watching them. 

Why did they leave the cameras on? 

She hadn't been paying enough attention to see the medic walk in. 

But she did start paying attention when the King started yelling. 

“No! No! No!” he said as the Jack started choking. “Get over here!” The King pointed his gun at the medic, and stood up, as to make himself seem taller. 

She had a bad feeling in her stomach, had a bad feeling filling her chest. This wasn't good. Something was wrong. 

She watched as the medic started performing CPR, watched as he pumped the Jack’s chest, but she knew that he was dead, and so did the medic. She watched as the medic leaned down to listen to the Jack's breath, but she saw how he paused. 

Like he was being told what to do. 

And the King saw it too. 

And then there were more gunshots. 

**

“No, I just want you to buy us a little time. Don't be quite so efficient.” Hotch said. He needed time. They all needed time. She needed time. 

“Whatever you’re gonna do, do it fast,” Strauss said and walked away. 

Hotch sighed in relief. Just some time. 

“Alright, reasoning with them is still our best option.” He told Rossi, ignoring the panic in his chest, in the thought of keeping secrets, of one of his agents still in there. 

“That’ll be difficult, Chris just lost his brother and murdered someone in retaliation. We’re dealing with two killers now.” 

It wasn't as if they hadn't dealt with situations like this before. They had. They did it practically every day of their lives. But what could they do with her in there, how could they send an order they knew could end lives when she was in there? 

How could they not tell Spencer? 

**

The next phone call was different. 

Things were already so tense. The King and Queen seemed to be fighting each other, proving to the other that they were in charge. And the Jack was dead. The King was upset and threatened to kill everyone. 

They wanted a way out, they wanted to leave the country. They’d told that to the negotiators. 

She knew it wouldn't be long until they got their wish. 

Her instincts were telling her that she couldn't let them go, that they deserved to rot in jail, that they didn't deserve to leave the country. 

But the other part of her. 

The part that was being kept hostage. 

That part was begging the police to let them go, to get them out of there so that no one else got hurt. So she could stop feeling so helpless, so alone, so cold, in a bank she wished she’d never gone to. It was begging them to get her out of there, get her home, get her warm. She didn't want to feel guilty for the lives that had been lost anymore. She wanted to go home. 

It wouldn't be long. 

But the phone call was different. 

She couldn't hear anything the negotiator was saying, could barely hear the King talking, but she knew that he was upset. She knew that the negotiator was saying something the King didn't like. 

“You’re lying.” the King said suddenly, turning around to look at the Queen, his face was confused, and for a moment she felt bad for him. 

She shouldn't. He’d murdered that man. 

“Did you call the police?” he asked, nodding at the Queen. His body was tense, but his face didn't look threatening. 

The Queen giggled. It was the first time she’d heard her laugh. It sounded wrong. 

“Is that what they’re telling you?” the Queen asked, and she could see her body language change, she was tenser like she was trying to hide something. 

She was trying to hide something. 

“Of course not. What do you think? They’re trying to turn us against one another.”

“Why would you even do that? Olly’s dead because of that.” The King looked disgusted. He looked like he’d given up. There was no power in his voice, no anger in his body. He looked exhausted. 

“I wouldn't. I’m trapped here too.” the Queen said, stepping toward the King, insistent. 

And then the King changed. 

“Are you lying to me?” he accused, suddenly angry, suddenly full of emotion. His muscles were tense as he raised his gun to point it at her. 

The Queen didn't back down. “We’ve come too far for you to start doubting me now. Lost too much.” she took a step forward. “Hey,” she said, her voice softer, more like a girl now. “Hey..” she said again, pointing the gun away from her chest and moving toward the king. “Don't let them tear us apart. Right as we’re about to win,” she whispered, running her hands over his face. “If you do that, Olly’s death won't mean anything.” 

The King paused, stumbling over his words, staring at the Queen. 

She’d tricked him. 

“Enough. I’m done talking to you. I want to talk to someone who won't jerk me around, face to face.” the King said into the phone. 

“No more Feds.” the Queen confirmed. 

“I want to talk to the cop that shot my brother.” The King turned away from the Queen, suddenly angry again. 

He hung up the phone.

**

It was minutes later. Another man had died. 

The King was furious. He was going to kill someone else every minute the cop didn't come in. 

He was going to kill someone else. 

She had to do something. 

He was walking around. He was looking for the next victim. 

She couldn't breathe. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how she could stop him and stop the Queen. She knew it wouldn't matter to the Queen if he was dead. She didn't know what to do. 

He walked around, his legs were right next to where she was sitting down. 

“Nah… Nah… Nah…” he said looking at all the terrified people that were standing there. 

He was pacing back and forth, walking past her, walking past her. 

She could feel the panic rise up her throat, could feel the bile that came with it. 

She didn't know what to do. 

He stopped in front of her. 

She was the next victim. 

**

The team watched as he pulled another girl up. They watched while Will got ready to go in, got ready to go save them. JJ was standing next to him, looking terrified, begging him not to go in. She couldn't lose him, she didn't care about anything else, she wasn't going to lose him. It was too dangerous, it was much too dangerous, she wouldn't let him. 

They watched as the King grabbed a girl by her collar, forcing her to stand up. 

Their hearts stopped. 

“Hotch,” Spencer said. He said, and he wasn't breathing anymore. He dropped his phone and he wasn't breathing. 

She was in there. She was on the screen. She was standing there with the King right in front of his eyes. 

Y/N was there. She was there. The King was going to kill her, she was going to die, she was going to be dead. 

No. 

“That's Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice shaking, his hands struggling to move, struggling to get a hold on his body. She was in there, he’d been calling her this whole time, and she’d been in there with them. She was in there. He couldn't breathe. 

“We have to get her out. Hotch!” He said turning around to face his boss, “We have to get her out of there! We can't just- just- leave her.” 

Hotch was looking at the boy in front of him. He had a crazed look in his eyes, a frightening stance to his body, he was looking at the boy and he wished he had told Spencer earlier. 

“Kid, we can't go in there. Everyone will die.” Morgan said, grabbing Spencer's shoulder, trying to keep him from freaking out, taking over for Hotch who didn't know what to do. 

No one had told him. Everyone else had known. No one looked surprised. No one had told him. 

He looked back to the screen, looked back to see the girl he loved at the hands of a murderer, looked to see her face which was terrified, her body which seemed to be crumbling. She was grabbing onto her chest like she was trying to keep herself together. She was in there with him, she was going to die. 

“I’m going in.” He said, and he moved past all the people, all his teammates who were all staring at him. 

“Reid,” Hotch said, following after him. 

“I have to get her. I can't just let her die.” 

“Reid,” Hotch said again, more sternly this time. 

“No! No!” he said, throwing his hands up as to keep Hotch away. “I will not let her die! She cant die Hotch she can't die she cant.” He said. 

And as Hotch held him back with the help of Derek, JJ was struggling in Rossi’s arms. She was screaming and crying and Spencer couldn't pay attention to her. He couldn't feel anything but the panic in his chest, but the anger that was boiling in his stomach. He could feel himself tearing apart, his body was made of nothing but paper without her, he needed to get her, he just needed to go get her, she needed him, he needed to go get her. 

He couldn't watch her die. 

He couldn't. 

He didn't notice JJ screaming. Didn't notice Will walking in, didn't notice anything.

He was tearing in half. 

She was in there. 

**

She struggled in his arms. She struggled to try to get away, to get herself another chance, to figure out a way to live. 

He was dragging her towards the phone.

“Pick it up.” He said and pushed her towards it. 

Her hands were shaking, her heart was pounding, and she had no idea how she had managed to keep the bile in her mouth. She should’ve puked by now. 

She shook her head. She wasn't going to submit to him. 

“Pick it up!” 

And she did this time. She didn't want anyone else to die. She was smarter than this. She was. 

“Tell him your name.” 

“It's Y/N,” she whispered. 

And she wasn't prepared for the voice to be so familiar. 

“Y/N. We’re coming. You’ll be fine kiddo.” Rossi said, wincing at the sound of her voice. She sounded so small, so unlike the girl he knew. 

“Rossi?” she whispered again, this time with surprise. 

“We’ve got you, kid,” he said. 

She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, and she didn't want to hope, she didn't want to let herself hope for anything, because she knew how these things usually turned out. She knew she had a limited amount of time before he would shoot her. 

But her family was there. 

Her family.

“Tell Spencer I love him,” she whispered to Rossi, a shiver running through her bones. She was so cold. She was too cold. She didn't know how a person could be this cold. 

She whispered out her last words knowing that her time was up. Knowing that this was it. These were the last words she needed to say. 

For him. 

The King raised his gun up, ready to shoot her, and she was wincing, ready to hear the gun go off, ready to delve into darkness. She was going to die ice cold. She was freezing. Maybe it would be quick. 

And he was about to shoot. 

When the Queen said, “look.” 

Will was walking in. Will was walking into the bank. Will was here. He had shot the King's brother. Will. 

“Let these people go,” Will said to the King, giving a side glance to Y/N.

She wasn't dead yet. She hadn't died just then. Will was here. 

How could she still be alive? How could she still breathe in air, how was she still alive, how wasn't her time up. 

Her time was supposed to be up. She should’ve been dead. She was so cold. 

Will. 

She knew the King planned to kill him. She knew what was coming. How could she help?

The King let three hostages go, a mother and two children. Relief flooded through Y/N’s body. At least three lives wouldn't be lost today. Three lives that Will had just saved. How to save him?

“Hey. What's your name?” The King asked Will, stepping towards him. Y/N watched as the Queen started to take something out of her bag. 

“William Lamontagne Jr. MPD.” Will said, and his eyes looked terrified, his face was sullen, and he looked defeated. He looked ready to give up. Y/N thought about Henry, she thought about his son, about his girlfriend that was outside, she thought about all the people that were depending on him, she thought and she thought. 

And she looked to the King, she saw his finger flex over the trigger of his gun. 

She thought one more time. 

And she jumped in front of Will. 

There were two shots. One for Y/N. One for Will. 

The cameras went out. 

**

Spencer wasn't thinking.

He couldn't think anymore. 

He felt like he had died. Died with her. 

“Did you see where they were shot?” JJ asked, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes red. She was doing more than Spencer. She wanted to know if they had a chance if they had made it. “Are they alive or dead Garcia?” 

Spencer already knew the answer. 

How could he not?

He was two different parts, he’d been torn apart, he was alive but he wasn't breathing, he wasn't thinking, he was alive but there was nothing, nothing he could think nothing he could feel. He was alive, but he wasn't. He was gone. He had left. He didn't know where he was. 

If she was alive he wouldn't feel like this. 

He knew she was dead. 

He couldn't think. 

“Will was wearing a vest. He might be okay.” Emily said, trying to reassure JJ, trying to do anything for her friend. 

Y/N hadn't been wearing a vest. 

“Might be.” JJ laughed without humor, she looked down and shook her head. How could this have happened to her? How could this have happened to Will?

Rossi walked into the room, he looked at all of his teammates, most of them looked miserable. He tried to ignore that. “They’re not answering,” he said, joining the group. 

JJ stood up suddenly. 

“All right, we need to get inside,” she said, moving to walk out the door. 

“JJ, it's too risky,” Derek said, grabbing her arm to stop her. He wasn't going to let another one of his friends go in there and get hurt. It wasn't worth it. “We don't have eyes in there anymore,” he said. 

“Aaron…” she said brokenly, desperately. She had to go in. She had to. 

Spencer, who hadn't been paying attention, had barely been breathing, suddenly stood up, and moved towards the door. “I’m going to get her,” he said, almost as if he hadn't seen what had just happened. His voice broke as he said it, clogged with the tears that he wasn't letting escape his eyes. “I’m going to get her.” he repeated as if they hadn't heard him the first time. 

Derek stopped Spencer, tried to get his friend to look at him, but Spencer wasn't paying attention. He couldn't feel anything. 

Hotch looked at him, and then looked back at JJ who still had her eyes on Hotch. 

“Let's go in,” he said. He had to do it for his family. 

**

Will was down on the ground. He’d been shot in the chest. Y/N was luckier. 

She’d been shot in the leg. Another man, one of the hostages that were still left over, had ordered a worker of the bank to hold pressure on Will’s injury. 

She’d been so much more fortunate than Will. 

The hostage that had helped Will, was now talking to her, helping her tie a tourniquet on her leg to stop the blood. 

“Are you a Medic?” she breathed out, as the pain in her leg paralyzed her body. She winced and opened her eyes to look at him. 

“A former United States Marine.”

It was then that Will woke up. 

He locked eyes with her, didn't say a word, he looked around and started to get up. She didn't understand what he was doing, she didn't understand why he was moving, she didn't know what was going on. 

There was something wrong with her head. Her eyes were watering and her ears were ringing. 

She couldn't hear anything. 

But she watched as Will went up to the King, watched as he started talking to him, she could tell that he was in pain, that his chest was burning, but he was still there talking to the King. She didn't know where the Queen went. 

She watched as Will explained something to him, watched as they walked away. 

Her ears were still ringing, still keeping her hostage to the ground, moving the pain up her body as her eyes went blurry. She didn't know what was so wrong with her, and she didn't know why it was getting hard to breathe. 

“Where are they going?” she stumbled out, she could barely hear herself, but she knew something was going on. 

The man next to her was explaining something and was telling her something, but her eyes were so tired, and the ringing was so loud. When the Marine next to her finally discovered that she couldn't hear him, could barely see him, he motioned to the other hostages. 

And then she was being picked up. Her eyes were burning, and her head was being stabbed by a hundred needles as she felt the person carrying her walk. She couldn't hear anything, but she trusted that she would be fine. She was going to be fine. 

The ringing was so loud. 

She was whining, and the Marine carrying her was trying to ask her questions, hoping she would be able to hear him. 

But the ringing was so loud. 

She was about to sleep about to let herself sleep when she saw something. 

She felt herself being passed over to someone new. 

“Spencer” she breathed out, opening her eyes slightly. 

And then the ringing was too much, and she fainted. 

***

Spencer couldn't believe the relief in his chest. He was amazed by the feeling that had flooded his body at just the sight of her, at the air that had filled his lungs, at the feeling in his brain that made everything else seem okay. 

She was alive. 

They were in the hospital now. She had taken a bullet to the leg, had a concussion, and was bruised up in multiple places. 

But she hadn't died. 

Spencer couldn't stop smiling. 

He was sitting next to her hospital bed, and he wasn't really thinking, still couldn't really believe anything. He was just listening to her heartbeat. Listening to the constant beeping of the monitor next to her. 

Her heart was beating. 

She was alive. 

Spencer felt himself get stitched up with every beep that went by, with every reminder that she was still right next to him. 

He thought about her eyes, and her smile, and her expression. He thought about the way she had smiled at him earlier that morning, before everything, thought about the kiss she had given him right before she left. He wondered if he would still feel that happy when she woke up. 

People kept coming into the room to update him on the case, told him that it had taken more work to find them after the bank had exploded, told him that Will had survived, that Emily had saved his life. 

And while he was relieved, glad that Will was okay, that no one else had died, nothing could match the feeling he felt just holding the hand of the girl he loved. 

He felt selfish but at that moment, he didn't care about anything but her, didn't care about anything except the heartbeat that still surrounded his world. He couldn't survive without her, he couldn't think about anything but her. 

He patiently waited for her to wake up. 

It took 12 hours, 12 hours of sitting next to her, sitting and watching people walk in and out of the room, 12 hours of listening to her heartbeat from the monitor, 12 hours just right next to her. 

And eventually, her eyes opened. 

And Spencer didn't say anything, he let her wake up on her own accord, let her eyes adjust to the room, let her take a moment to think about where she was. He couldn't imagine the pain she was in at that moment. 

He waited patiently for her to look at him. 

And like always, her eyes were drawn to him, her mind was pulled to his, and it only took her ten seconds to look over and see Spencer. 

And despite the pain, despite the burning of her leg, the distant ringing in the background, despite everything she had been through, she smiled at him. 

“Happy Anniversary.” she coughed out, her voice raw. 

Spencer shook his head, amused at her, dazed by the sound of her voice. It was his favorite sound in the world. 

He got up to go get her some water, not wanting her to strain the voice he was so fond of. 

“You’re alive,” he whispered when she grabbed the cup from him. He whispered it as if he still couldn't believe it, even after listening to her heartbeat, watching her for 12 hours, even after hearing her voice, he still couldn't believe it. 

She sipped the water and watched his eyes, they looked exhausted, he looked exhausted, but she could see a light in them. A light she could always see in him. She smiled at that. He was still the same person she had seen three years ago. He was the man she loved. She was still alive. 

“I promised I would be back didn't I?” she whispered, trying to get him to her look at her. 

And he did, and suddenly he was moving toward her. 

He took her face in his hands, carefully so he wouldn't hurt her, and he kissed her. He felt a different kind of relief fill his body, he felt her melt into him, felt her lips strain against his. It was so much different now, so much different after he had almost lost her, it was so different but so so perfect. 

She smiled against his lips, and like always he couldn't resist smiling back. 

He pulled back, a smile still stuck to his face, and kept his hands on the side of her face. He was in love with the smile on her face. 

“Y/N,” he whispered seriously, looking from her lips to her eyes. 

“Yes?” she whispered back. 

“You feel his girl in between my hands?” he asked, and she nodded her head in his hands, confused at his words, pouting in concentration. He smiled at her and pecked her lips to remove the pout. “I can't live without her,” he said, now desperate for her to understand. “So I need you to take care of her okay?” 

And she laughed, tears running down her face. 

They’d almost lost each other. 

He was so warm. 

She smiled.

my masterlist here

thank you so much for reading.

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter One: The Season Begins

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Despondency, depressive undertones, death of a parent, grief, unsolicited advances, age old sexism, strained parent relationship, nosy neighbors, food, lmk if I missed any pls!

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: And here we go! The first chapter! Welcome & thank you for tuning in, it means the world, truly! As I mentioned before, this story may not be the best for some, so please heed the warnings & proceed with caution. The sadness will not consistently be in each chapter, that much I promise, but we have to get through it right away so we can understand our dear Reader’s mindset as of right now. NO EZRA YET, SORRY! And like I said before, this is probably not totally historically accurate, so take everything with a grain of salt pleeease. Other than that, enjoy!

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

~APRIL FIFTEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Your eyes flutter open on instinct as the sun rises against the pale blue of the sky, its ochre rays peering from behind the grassy hills and across the wheat fields while waking the birds. They start their day with a song, shaking their feathers and stretching their wings as they merrily fly through the air in search of their morning meal. The hens that found solace in their coops from the stark chill of night chatter amongst themselves as they roam around their pen and the lone rooster releases its shrill call, a signal for the day to begin. Beat you again, you think.

The sun rises a little higher now, the bright of day in full effect as it fills your room with its intense luminosity. You lie in bed a moment longer, watching the dust mites float through the air and dance in front of your nose with each exhale of breath you release. Signs of life all around you, from the dew drops that formed on your window in the early morning to the muscles within your very skin twitching as you climb out of bed. Every little thing teasing and taunting you of significance, of meaning just on the horizon, yet so far out of your reach.

This is your life. Each and every morning, day, and night is as repetitive as the last. Wake up before the rooster crows and stare into the minute cracks rippling through the ceiling, envious of the pollen that manages to escape through and longing for you to shrink microscopic enough to hide away as well. Fill your basin with cold water you had gathered the night before to wash yourself quickly before your father wakes. Clothe yourself in your underdress, long sleeved, blue work dress layered on top with the sleeves rolled up, an apron cinched at your waist, and dirty and worn, black boots laced up tight enough to prevent you from minding the ache they feel as the day progresses.

You look at your reflection in the hazy mirror as you braid your hair; the drabness of the glass only accentuates exactly how you perceive yourself. The girl staring back at you was but a shell of the one you knew before. Before, when you still had ambitions that would have led you far from this town. To a place you could live anew. Now, just an empty being as one day fades into the next. Eyes that no longer gleam, hair that no longer shines, skin that no longer glows.

You had given up long ago of any hope and dream of something more, surrendering to the bleakness and repetitiveness of this life when your mother passed. A promise on her death bed to help care for your father any way he needs. And this is what he needs. You, here on the farm, helping tend to the chickens and the cows and the small shop he owned in town. The one your mother ran that was unceremoniously thrust onto your lap. The organ within your chest beats solely to pump the blood through your veins and keep you breathing, if only for the promise you made to your mother.

You fasten the gold chain around your neck, a locket with a faded photograph of your mother hidden within hanging to your breast. You tuck it into your blouse to keep her close to your heart and head down the ladder, stepping lightly as to not awaken Pa any earlier than necessary. Your Pa, an old man now with hair white as snow, only having turned the shade since Ma left.

Wrinkles crease deeper into his skin and the bags under his eyes droop slightly to his cheeks now on his once chiseled face. His strength has dwindled within the last year, and with no other siblings to share the burden of the farm, you knew you could not leave your Pa to deal with it by himself. So your own dreams and goals were swiftly thrown into the dirt to be rained on and turned to mush, impossible to be picked up again.

As you finish grounding the coffee beans and throw them into the pot of already boiling water resting on the range, Pa begins to stir and soon after wakes up, the aroma of caffeine acting as his own signal to wake. Leaving the house to give your father privacy to dress, you head to the hen coop to gather a few eggs for breakfast.

You take a deep breath of the crisp morning air, the smell of apple trees at the front of the house, then the smell of grass with fresh dew, to the smell of hay and chicken feed as you get closer to the pen they are corralled in. As you head back into the house, Pa is already seated at the small, round table with his tin of coffee.

“Good morning, Pa,” you greet softly.

“Good morning daughter. Thank you for the coffee.”

“Grace to our health, Pa,” you say, as you always do when he gives you his thanks.

Financially, you and Pa were well off enough; you still couldn’t afford luxuries like sugar, but you were able to live comfortably with only the necessities and the occasional new pair of boots. You were grateful to have the farm and the shop, both reliable sources of income for your small family, and you were blessed that Pa was still able to work the fields, but you know as time passes and his joints weaken, you would then need to take over the labor. There was truly no path for you to leave this life.

The older women around town had begun to whisper about you, not necessarily trying to keep their gossip from reaching your ears. They were just as bad as the hens that cluck around their pen all day. A never ending chatter of you being stuck in the house or the farm or the shop, working as an old maid for the rest of your life.

You’re still fairly young, just over two decades of life in you; sure, the girls you once played in the streams with as children were all married women now and on their third, fourth, fifth child, but you didn’t feel the desire to find a husband just to bend to the simple mold of life this society has cast. If you were to still have any control of your life, it would, at the least, be that.

You crack the eggs into the beaten and tired pan over the range, letting them cook to completion before removing and plating them, along with a roll of bread and the butter you had just churned the day prior. You walk over to Pa and place his portion down before working on your own. Pa sends up a quick prayer and starts to eat. His prayers turned to letters to Ma, but he never failed to speak them before every meal or before bed, sometimes even when a sudden abundance of eggs were laid or vegetables had sprouted during the night.

“The season is nigh for corn and potatoes,” Pa mumbles and you feel your heart sink to your feet.

You had forgotten about the season, when Ma and Pa would work the fields together endlessly, sweating through their work attire to be washed every evening. You still feel the creak in your elbows to this day. It is the busiest season, bringing in the most coinage for the year, but now that it was only you two, you worry about juggling between the shop and the farm.

“Pa, how will we manage?” You voice your concern. Pa takes a deep breath.

“You will hang a notice in the shop when you go today,” he says matter of factly. “Ask Mr. Williams if you are able to hang one on his window at the post as well.”

“And what shall it say?”

“‘Seasonal laborer wanted – will provide lodging with pay’.”

“Where will he stay?” You inquire.

“The barn; we will provide him blankets and he will be free to use our wash basins when needed and we will offer him meals.”

“It will be a lot of money expended, Pa; will we be all right?” You ask as you sit at the table with your plate and coffee tin.

“We will make do, daughter,” he says, the finality in his voice signaling for this conversation to cease. “We will not be able to pay handsomely or feed him much, but we require the extra hand if we are to pass the season.”

“Yes, Pa.”

You lower your head and eat your eggs in silence. You don’t pray anymore, not necessarily feeling the need since your Ma was taken, as well as your aspirations. Pa finishes his coffee, leaving the dishes in the wash basin and grabbing his hat, walking outside into the fields to begin preparations for the season. You sigh; the tears that have long hidden in your ducts refuse to spill out to bless you with relief.

The last time you properly cried was for Ma; every day you feel them there, the pressure building in the corners of your eyes, but nothing ever falls. A mind trick, you suppose, to force you to focus on the more important things. You don’t have the time to spare to release them; your mind and body are now slaves to the farm and the shop.

After your breakfast, you walk to the wash basin with your dishes, hand pumping the water from the pipe just off the side and using the homemade lye soap you learned to make from your mother. Once the dishes are washed, dried, and put away, you walk over to the black safe in the corner of the room, turning the dial to its correct numbers and pulling out the metal lockbox from the inside.

It carried within it the sales ledger for the shop and the velvet bag for the coins. Pa empties the bag every day as he looks over the ledger, placing the coins into another metal box that only he has the key to. He gives you coin anytime you ask, as long as it is needed for the shop or food for the house and, occasionally, on special days.

You pick it up and take it with you to the front door, pulling your bonnet and fabric bag from the hook they hung on. You stick the lockbox inside your bag, as well as the key assigned to it, and head outside. Pa is already far into the fields, hacking away at the dirt and smoothing it out for the new growth. You don’t bother saying goodbye; he knows where you’ll be. Where you’ll always be.

Living alone with Pa became quite challenging, you were disheartened to learn. You’ve always had a loving bond with him since you were a child; maybe he expected the same from you as he did from Ma, but he still managed to make his lessons on the farm enjoyable, doting upon you as any loving father would. Now? The anguish you both have felt since losing the feathery soft and caring love of your mother strained the relationship between you two.

What was once a thick belt of leather that connected you now pulled further and further apart until it became as frail as rubber, threatening to snap at a moment’s notice. You love your Pa; of course you do, and you know he loves you too. If only you could grieve together.

Upon entering the town, the people are going about their normal routines. The baker stacking the fresh loaves of bread in his window, the shoe shiners along the streets working tediously on men’s boots, the hens clucking – the older women gossiping away passionately about whomever they desire. As long as it isn’t you today.

You reach the shop, key in hand as you unlock the brass keyhole and turn the knob, the small bell dinging above you as you enter. You flip the sign in the window from the side that reads ‘Closed’ to the side that reads ‘Open’ and you pull back the shut curtains, allowing the light of day to flow into the small room.

Heading back to behind the counter, you remove the lockbox from your bag and set it on the shelf underneath in its usual resting place. You barely have a moment to remove your bonnet when the bell dings and you look up to greet the person who has walked in. Wonderful.

“Hello, my sweet,” the man husks and you find it difficult to choke back the bile rising in your throat.

“Hello Silas,” you say flatly. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Darlin’, you know exactly how you may be of service to me.”

Silas Taylor, a boorish man of thirty-eight years, has desperately been attempting to attract your affection for the past two years. He had the decency to respect you and Pa after your mother passed, halting his advances for all of one week. Considering his age, he did not show any signs of maturing, both in his looks and his brain. One might even label him handsome, were he not such a crude and overbearing personality.

Ma and Pa had bid you to consider his proposal, but in time came to understand he was not the best man you could have as a husband. Pa despises Silas, has even told him so to his face, yet it did not cause Silas to stray from pursuing you. Disrespectful, despicable, a generally awful person, Silas is.

Why he had you locked on to his sights, you weren’t sure. You never gave him the opportunity to court; staying cordial as to not make an outright enemy of him, yes, but never once have you made it apparent you enjoyed his attention. Nevertheless, he continued.

“Silas, please. I must ask you to leave my shop if you are not interested in a purchase,” you implore, hoping he will understand your position and take his leave.

“But, little one, I am very interested in a purchase. What must I do to make you my wife?” He grins, as charming as the manure out in the fields. In a flash, your vision goes red as you replay his statement in your mind.

“I am not for sale, Silas. That is the most offensive remark you have said to me yet,” you declare harshly, the acidic bile in your stomach turning into a burning rage.

“There must be something that can be done, my sweet. You name it; the most lavish jewels and dresses your pretty, little mind can dream of,” he presses on with a smile only found on masks to scare the children with.

‘Pretty’ and ‘little’, amongst his unwelcome endearments, are the words to send your mind into a downward spiral to declarations that you’d rather not say unless you were alone, lest he take offense and decide to wreak havoc on you and Pa. You put your foot down and grab his arm roughly, pulling him with you to the front door. He only laughs at the scene unfolding, rather pleased with himself that he’s ruffled your feathers so.

“Silas, I am no longer asking. Please leave,” you say as plainly as you can, doing your best to keep the tremble of anger out of your voice.

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles satirically. “Until our next meeting, my love.”

He pulls your hand to his lips, his strength surpassing yours and his thick, wiry mustache rubs harshly against the tender skin of your hand. You furl your lip and flare your nostrils, unable to contain the look of disgust on your face as he glares at you perversely with his black eyes. You tug your hand away and the bristly hair under his villainous nose scrapes you with the motion.

You stand with your jaw clenched and hands balled up in tight fists at your sides, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palm as you watch him walk away, leaving puffs of dirt trailing behind with each cocksure step he takes. If you were to only be allowed one person to despise in your lifetime, it would be Silas Taylor.

“Dear, are you well?”

A gentle, aged voice calls out to you from behind. You whip around quickly, your skirts twirling as you face the elderly woman that has hailed you.

“Mrs. Williams,” you greet, willing your fury from the unpleasant interaction to rest for the time being.

“Was that Silas Taylor you were speaking with?” She asks.

“Yes,” you exhale. “Yes, it was.”

“He’s a quite handsome lad, dear. It is known all over town how you have bewitched him. Why do you not accept his proposal?”

Adelaide Williams; the sweetest among the hens, but still a hen nonetheless. You sigh deeply to yourself, deciding not to engage in the conversation with the one woman who treats you with any shred of respect and kindness, even if her ideals still match those with the others in town.

“Mrs. Williams, while I have you in my presence, may I ask a favor?” You appeal.

“Why, of course, my dear!” She smiles, all thoughts of your personal affairs exiting her imagination.

“Do you suppose it would be alright to leave a notice at the post office? We are asking for help on the farm for the season.”

“Yes, dear, it’s quite alright,” she smiles, her wrinkly skin creasing along her cheeks and eyes.

“Thank you; will you wait a moment while I draft it?”

She nods and follows you inside the shop, slow in her old age. You quickly grab a sheet of paper and a fountain pen, inscribing the words your Pa informed you to write in large enough letters.

“I imagine this season will be most difficult without your mother. I am so very sorry, dear,” Mrs. Williams says as you write and your hand quakes slightly at her comment. “How have you and your father been managing?” Cluck, cluck, cluck.

“Not without difficulty, Mrs. Williams, but we manage nonetheless,” you say courteously, not wanting to relay any information that could be the next piece of news to travel through the grapevine. You finish the notice and hand it to her.

“Shall I direct him here or to the farm?” She inquires as she reads the note, perhaps looking for anything contradicting what you already stated would be written.

“The farm, more suitably, so he can speak directly to my father,” you reply. “Many thanks to you and Mr. Williams,” you end with a sweet smile.

“No thanks are required, my dear. Anything to help you and your father. Your mother was a wonderful being. I was proud to have known her.”

Another quake. You nod politely, letting her hold your forearm as you walk to the front door. The bell dings as it opens and you watch her while she walks down the wooden pathway to the post office. Once you’re sure she’s well on her way, you turn back inside and draft another notice for the shop window before you begin arranging the merchandise for the day, taking inventory of goods that are depleting, and checking order forms belonging to families around town for produce off your farm.

A most provincial and forlorn life, indeed, that you will have to bear until the end of your time here on Earth.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

[hey-there-love]

Apologize

Summary: Friday nights don’t have to be lame when Katsuki Bakugo is involved.

Content Warnings: Aged up, NSFW, 18+, Fem oral receiving, penetration, slight anal play, slight dacryphilia, slight spit play, choking, AU, Adult Language, Enter at your own risk.

WC: 3.1K

It was a boring Friday night alone. You were lost in one of your many textbooks studying for a big test on Monday when your phone notified that you had a snapchat. Assuming it was from your roommate Mina, who should have been busy with work, you grabbed your phone.

It was from Katsuki Bakugo. You rolled your eyes and threw your phone onto the pillow. Bakugo was your on and off again friend with benefits. On and off meaning you saw him when it was convenient to Bakugo and Bakugo only. Sadly, you came back each time because you genuinely liked the guy...

Plus it was the best sex of your life.

It was an unfortunate situation to say the least. In the moment when you were with him you were satisfied, but as you got back home you craved more. You were both alike in many ways. Rough around the edges, but soft once you opened up. Goal oriented, focused on your schooling and your futures. A fucked up sense of humor that matched toe to toe. You both came to a mutual agreement that you were meant to be friends early on, but lately you longed for more.

The thing about your situationship with Bakugo was on the rocks since he canceled on you a few nights ago to go out with his friends. Granted you didn’t owe each other anything, but canceling last minute really pissed you off.

After a few minutes of pondering about the Snapchat, you went against your better judgement and opened it.

Bakugo: What are you doing?

You sucked your teeth and debated on messaging him back. Tentatively you set your phone down, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine and leaving him on read. You stuck your nose back in your textbook. About 10 minutes of note taking had passed and your phone had went off again. You glared and looked at the message.

Bakugo: Don’t ignore me shitty woman.

Your body fluttered. The part of your body that did was undetermined though. You scraped your brain of something wity to say back.

Y/N: What do you need? You’re interrupting my hot date.

He responded instantly, almost as if he was awaiting your response.

Bakugo: An actual date or your hand because you know I’m better than both.

You swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of your throat. He wasn’t exactly wrong. Bakugo was far more experienced in the handiwork than you were, but that’s exactly what a vibrator was for. You snapped a picture of the textbook in your lap and captioned it.

Y/N: His name is Pearson’s Guide to Anatomy and we’re madly in love.

At this point you gave up on studying because you were clearly distracted and laid down. Your message sat on delivered for a few minutes before he finally opened it. This time it was a picture. You looked at instantly. He snapped a picture of his roommate Kirishima grinning in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand.

Bakugo: Come eat and before you say no it wasn’t a question.

You fought the battle inside your brain. You were still pretty upset with him, but you hadn’t ate since breakfast so you were hungry. Plus...sex of course. You opted to send him a short message.

Y/N : Gimme 30 minutes asshole.

Bakugo replied with the thumbs up emoji and sent you into action. You had just taken a shower and thankfully something told you to shave your legs. You brushed your teeth quickly and brushed your hair back into a tight pony tail. Everything you needed was already in your purse. A toothbrush, a pair of underwear, deodorant, a few condoms, a charger, and body spray. ( AN: I always recommend keeping a mini spendanight bag in your purse just in case :) )

You spent a few minutes deciding what to wear before putting on a black lace bra and matching underwear. You opted for a pair of black sweats and long sleeve shirt. It was a little chilly out so you threw on a hoodie. Deciding you were finally ready you sent a message to Mina, alerting her of your absence.

Mina: Wear protection! ;) I get off at 2 if you need a ride home.

You laughed at your best friend’s response and began the short walk to Bakugo’s. There was a little bit of day light left so it was easy to navigate through his neighborhood.

Pretty soon you were standing in front of his building. You pressed the buzzer. Kirishima’s sing song voice sounded through the speaker. “Whooooo is it?” Clearly he knew it was you.

“Kiri let me in! I’m freaking freezing.” You whinned.

“That’s not the passworddddd.” He chided, laughing.

“Let her in dumbass.” You heard Bakugo growling in the background.

“Hey!” Kirishima cried and the door buzzed. You rode the elevator up to the third floor. You rasped on the front door. It was opened abruptly by Kirishima who rubbed the back of his head cautiously.

“Let me guess, he smacked you didn’t he?” You pondered and gave him a side hug.

“Yeah and it wasn’t very manly of him either.” He sighed and hugged you back.

“Keep it up and I’ll do it again, Shitty Hair.” Bakugo called from the kitchen. You shook your head and ruffled his hair.

Kirishima grinned and whispered in your ear, “I’m glad your here, he’s been in a mood all day.” You blushed majorly and looked down as he trailed off into the kitchen. It wasn’t a secret to your friend group what you and Bakugo were. Kirishima and Mina had walked in on you two multiple times, but it still wasn’t embarrassing.

You removed your shoes and padded into the kitchen. The aroma of deliciousness hit your nose instantly. Your stomach grumbled. “See I knew you were hungry.” Bakugo said finishing up the stir fry.

Your wrapped your arms around his waist tightly and laid your head on his back. “Shut up and feed me.” You mumbled.

“You want dinner or desert first?” He replied and rubbed your arm as he mixed up the food in the pan.

“Who said you were getting desert?”

“Please guys! Not infront of the stir fry! It’s innocent!” Kirishima groaned and shoved you two out of the way deciding it was done.

You both shot him a glare as he happily loaded his plate up with food. Bakugo fixed your plate and handed it to you. The three of you sat down on the couch in front of the tv. Kirishima put on a series he just started. You began to chatter about the show in between bites. Pretty soon you were done eating and he gave you a synopsis. Bakugo took your plates to the kitchen.

“Hold on wait, so wait. If he’s an international criminal why did he just turn himself in like that to help the agent?” You questioned, clearly enthralled by the show.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out! There’s literally 7 seasons of this! I need answers.” Kirishima agreed.

“Bro what if that’s his like secretly his daughter? Like it makes sense why he’s so connected to her and protects her.” You said excitedly, slapping his leg.

“Dude. That actually makes hella sense.” He replied. Bakugo quietly sat down next to you and began to stroke your lower back, signaling it was time to retreat to his bedroom. You looked up at him with pleading eyes to finish the episode. He rolled his eyes and moved his hand to the back of the couch.

Pretty soon the credits rolled at the end of the episode. “I’m going to bed.” Bakugo announced and stood up.

“Ugh, lame.” Kirishima huffed. Bakugo walked into his bedroom without a word, leaving you two on the couch. You both looked at each other and shrugged.

“I’m definitely going to start watching whenever I get home. Text me about it tomorrow yeah?” You asked making your way to the room.

“For sure!” He called after you as you shut the door. You set your bag down next to the bed and sat down to check your phone. You heard the sink running and then the bathroom door opened revealing a shirtless Bakugo. Grey sweatpants hung off of his hips.

You licked your lips slightly as he turned off the lights and slinked to the bed. A candle faintly flicked in the corner, giving a slight orange glow to the room. “Damn that was like pulling teeth, Y/N” he said and laid down next to you.

“What? You weren’t interested in the show? It was good.” You replied, feeling your pulse quicken as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“I’ve been interested in something else for the past hour.” Bakugo sighed and wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

“And what would that be exactly?” You questioned and leaned back into the pillows. He quickly moved ontop of you and hovered over your lips.

“Getting inbetween your thighs.” He whispered. You sucked in a breath before his lips landed on yours. It was slow at first. Sweet closed mouth kisses turned into a passionate tongues mingling together. One of your hands began to run its way through his hair while the other traced the expanse of his bare back.

He groaned into your mouth and you pulled his hair lightly. His hand caressed up your neck until it grabbed your jaw holding you in place. Bakugo began to slowly grind against your sweet spot. Causing you to grow wetter than you already were. His freehand began to explore your body, running along your stomach and up to your bra.

Moans escaped as he began to stroke your nipple through the fabric. He lifted you up from the bed and removed your hoodie and shirt in a swift motion, throwing it somewhere off the bed. You weren’t too concerned at the moment of the location. The hand that gripped your jaw made its way down to your neck as he delicately squeezed the side of your throat.

He kissed down your neck until he made it to the area were your breast pooled ontop of your bra. He began to suck on the revealed flesh before pulling it down to free them. “You’ve got such nice tits, babygirl.” Bakugo growled and took a nipple into his mouth.

You mewled at the praise. He began to nip and suck at it, making sure to tweak and pinch the other in the same fashion. You bucked your hips to meet his, adding more friction to the equation. A few moments passed before he began trail down to the hem of your sweatpants.

Bakugo worked diligently sliding them down your legs before laying in between your thighs. You locked eyes as he started to speak, completely in a trance. “Allow me to formally apologize for canceling on you before.” You nodded slowly. He smiled devilishly and kissed your inner thighs.

The teasing was unreal. It made you so hot that you knew your panties were soaked. He planted a light kiss to your clothed clit. Using his index finger he stroked your pussy vertically with the tip. “You smell so good, Y/N. I can’t wait to taste you.” Bakugo growled. He pulled your panties to the side and slipped the finger in. You instantly clenched around him as he began to pump the tip teasingly.

You were a mess. The strokes were torchous, your mind swirled. “Look at you, grabbing my fucking finger and it’s barely even there.” You loved how vocal he was. He slowly pulled his digit out before entering it again, this time deeper inside you. Your juices cascaded down his hand.

“Shit.” Bakugo cursed and tore your underwear off. You were much too distracted to even worry about your thong being shredded. He added a second finger into the mix. He curled them up inside you, finding the spongy spot that sent you crazy.

Removing his fingers he held them up to the light, entranced by the stringy substance that coated them. “Open your mouth.” He demanded. You did as you were told, no questions asked. Bakugo inserted the two into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around and inbetween then, collecting your slick. He groaned as you sucked and bit down.

His mouth attacked your clit promptly. It was a relief you craved. There was no kitten licks about it. His tongue did figure 8’s around your cunt. You were a moaning mess, saying his name without a care in the world that Kirishima could hear you. Then he did something foreign that you never experienced before. His tongue trailed down your pussy until it found your tight, puckered hole.

You weren’t quite sure what was going on, but in the moment it didn’t matter. Bakugo had your trust completely and he knew it. He didn’t go too far though, just kissing and licking it slightly before focusing his attention back on your throbbing pussy. He plunged the two fingers into your hole again, but this time he fucked it.

The lewd sounds that came from your cunt were enough to make you blush. His free hand flew up to your pelvis and began to gently press down causing pressure. “You hear how loud your cunt is babygirl? You sound like your enjoying it.” Bakugo called. He bit down harshly on your thigh.

“Please Bakugo, please fuck me.” You begged, wrapping your leg around his shoulder.

“That’s not what you should call me Y/N. What’s my name?” He slowed down his pumps, but kept the pressure, making the pleasure the same level of intensity as before.

“Katsuki please!” You cried out. He grinned as you.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I’m not done apologizing yet.” You threw your head back against the pillows as his mouth attacked you once more. His pace began to speed up again. You felt his fingers scissoring inside of you. Your release barreled towards you.

“I’m about to cum.” You whimpered, pushing his head closer to your cunt. His fingers pumped faster than before, hitting your g-spot every time. Your orgasm washed over you promptly as you moaned his name. Your once rigid body melted against the bed. You felt Bakugo climb up your body.

He grabbed your face and made you open your mouth. He spit the saliva and cum mixed fluid into your mouth before running his hand over your breasts again. You were putty and under his mercy.

“Still want me to fuck your brains out?” Bakugo questioned as he stroked himself through his sweats.

“Please.” You breathed out. He chuckled and stood up, removing his pants. His dick sprang free and slapped against his stomach. Precum pooled around the tip. He pulled a condom out of the drawer on the bed side table.

He noticed you staring at him, “See something you like?” Bakugo questioned as he rolled the condom onto his cock. You nodded sheepishly and spread your legs. He shook his head and then nestled inbetween your legs again as he kissed your lips sweetly. He began to rub the tip against your sensitivity, making you jump at the sensation.

“I’ll go slow this time, I promise.” Bakugo kissed your forehead and gently pressed into you, giving you inch by inch. You both hissed until he sank himself fully in your heat. “Shit, you’re always so tight for me baby.” He moaned rested his head on yours.

He began to thrust slowly allowing you to adjust to the pain. Bakugo was not small in the slightest, so you were grateful at the pace he set. He buried his head into your shoulder as profanities escaped his lips. “Fuck, Katsuki. You fill me up so good.” You moaned, scratching his back lightly.

This encouraged him to increase his speed, grinding his hips into yours until he filled you to the hilt. “You are mine. You’ll always fucking be mine Y/N.” He growled, nipping at your collarbone. The declaration made your heart soar, but it also gave you a sinking feeling in the back of your mind.

Bakugo threw your legs over his shoulders as he drilled deep into you. You felt tears prick in your eyes at the sensation as another orgasm began to build. He grasped your face, “Look me in the eyes when you cum because I know you’re close.” You nodded quickly. Tears flowed freely as your mouth hung open. The next orgasm hit you like a brick wall. You were pretty sure you screamed his name that time, but you couldn’t be too sure.

Once your body calmed down Bakugo pulled out, flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass into the air. He slammed back into you. You attempted to jerk forward, but he gripped your hips tight. A loud smack landing against your ass for trying to run away.

You felt his warm saliva drip down to your puckered hole before he used his thumb to swirl it around. Unintentionally, you jerked again. He paused his actions. “You trust me right?” Bakugo panted and rubbed your cheek delicately.

“Yes, of course.” You whinned at the loss of rhythm. Another slap landed on you cheek.

“Okay, run away again,” he stated, “I’m fucking your ass.” That caused you to remain absolutely still. Granted after the experience before you didn’t mind the thought of it, but you we’re too spent for that tonight and you knew Katsuki Bakugo would make good on his promise. He began fucking you again, this time not as rough. He repeated his actions from earlier and teased your ass again before gently pressing his thumb in your tight rear.

You were grateful that you could shove your head into the pillow because the noises that came from you would have woken up the whole building. You mentally reminded yourself to apologize to Kirishima tomorrow. “Shit, I’m really fucking close babygirl.”

“Please Katsuki, please come inside of me.” You moaned, egging him on. That was all it took. His once steady, prominent strokes turned into sloppy thrusts as he filled the condom. Once he steadied, he removed himself as you collapsed. Bakugo rolled the condom off and threw it into the trash before falling in next to you.

You were both panting messes. Once you caught your breath you glanced over at him. “Apology accepted.”

“Shut up, shitty woman.” Bakugo laughed and kissed you cheek.

[watermelonlipstick]

The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

This is a request for anon, who asked: 

i don’t know if your requests are open, but if they are, could you do one where the reader has tattoos that dean doesn’t know about and then he sees them when he has to stitch them up after a hunt? (maybe like season 1 or 2 dean) thank you!!!

And then wrote to me privately that they have a dragon tattoo on one shoulder.

It was a lot of fun to write; tons of opportunities to slip in some good classic rock references! I miss in the super early seasons when Sam and Dean seemed to rag on each other pretty much constantly. I hope this is what you were thinking of!

Title: The Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 2589 

Summary: Dean is surprised to discover the reader has tattoos.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence/mention of blood, swearing, fluff!!

           Sam moves to the middle of the front bench to shuck off his coat as Dean is getting out of the car, and gives it to you with a long arm over the leather. “Can you hand me that blue jacket?”

           You have to over-rotate to use your other hand to grab it, keeping your grip tight on your own shirt in the most bastardized version of a sling. Sam, of course, notices.

           “You think it’s broken or dislocated?”

           A hard chuckle blows out of your nose. “Really hope it’s just dislocated, I’ll tell you that.”

           He gives you a sympathetic smile as he throws on the blue jacket and zips it all the way up to his neck. It looks like he’s covering something up and naturally, he is, thin hoodie and t shirt underneath drenched with enough werewolf blood that it’s clinging to his chest almost pornographically. But his face is untouched and he has use of both his arms which is more than can be said for you or Werewolf Shiner Winchester, making him the only reasonable choice to send for gauze and ACE bandages at the closest pharmacy.

           Dean stops his grimace-covered stretching just outside the car and opens your door with an outstretched hand as Sam slides into the driver’s seat. “You coming?”

           Taking his hand with your good one, you let Dean close the door behind you without any of the normal grumbling about treating you like you’re made of porcelain, in an effort to keep your face neutral around the jolts of pain through your shoulder. Sam pulls out of the motel parking lot ultra-gently like it’s his first day with a learner’s permit the way he does when he knows Dean is watching. It makes you smile to yourself as exhaust dissipates across the cracked blacktop.

           Crossing the asphalt with tired strides Dean opens the motel door for you too, and you walk in before him. “Is that yours?” he asks, dropping his coat on the cheap couch and wincing through the removal of his flannel. In the light of the room you’re better able to see his black eye and realize it’s going to take weeks for that to go away, not relishing another inevitable conversation about makeup to sell a G-man cover story. It makes it so much easier for the families of victims to believe you’re legit when none of you look like you’ve been in a bar fight, but getting Dean to believe cover-up is in the name of the greater good is an uphill battle on the best of days.

           “Is what mine?”

           “The blood you’re covered in like nacho cheese. Dude, if that’s all over the car—”

           He deserves credit for trying not to smile as you try to look over your shoulder like a puppy chasing its tail, but he does guide you over to the mirror on the wall to see. He’s right, blood has seeped all down your coat, sticky and shiny like syrup. It’s far too wet to be from near 30 minutes ago when you got in the car. “Fuck, I really like this jacket.”

           “You have like 5 just like it taking up space in my trunk; you’ll live. Here, take that off, I’ll stitch you up.” Dean starts rifling through his bag for supplies, rolling some kinks out of his neck.

           “It doesn’t even hurt, I just need you to pop my shoulder back in so I can take a shower.”

           “I don’t give a shit what hurts, slugger. You’re going to pass out in the tub if you keep up the stuck pig act.”

           You roll your eyes and reluctantly try to slide your arms out of the jacket, wincing when you jostle the dislocated arm. Dean takes the sopping coat from you and tosses it into the kitchenette sink from where he stands, the concern coloring his face when you look back at him not reassuring you at all. He puts the floss-threaded needle he’d had in his hand between his teeth and starts pulling on your collar.

           “Shoulder first,” you insist, done wiggling and writhing out of clothes before your shoulder is where it belongs.

           Dean’s mouth tightens into a firm line but he backs up to give himself enough room to shove, an exasperated hand beckoning you. “Okay, you ready?” he says around the needle, looking like a farmer field medic with a piece of hay.

           “Yeah just let me—FUCK,” you grunt when he catches you off guard without any preamble, clutching at the shoulder for a moment until you could take a deep breath. You do a test rotation and are happy at the relative lack of pain, trying not to be frustrated that Dean didn’t warn you so you wouldn’t tense up.

           “Shirt off.” Dean’s tone is firm and precise, no room for discussion, as he gets out a lighter and watches intently to heat up the needle.

           “Wow, you sure know how to make someone feel special,” you hum, feeling much looser without the shooting pain from your shoulder. The buttons of the flannel come undone relatively easy, but the fabric makes a sickly wet thwack as you snap it down to rest around your elbows.

           From his spot at your side, you see Dean’s face contort in surprise and watch as he reflexively reaches out a thumb to rub the skin of your shoulder.

           “Ow, what the hell?” you flinch.

           “Has this always been here?” he asks, partly amazed but mostly incredulous as his eyes trace the inky lines of the dragons where they wind around your skin.

           “I wasn’t born with them if that’s what you mean.” You can tell he’s truly shocked because he doesn’t even react to the jab, just hovers a gentle fingertip over the tattoo. “Earth to Dean? I thought you were all scared about me bleeding out.”

           He gulps and clears his throat before covering with a smile that’s a combination of cheeky and shy. “Right, yeah, sorry. Just didn’t realize I was in the presence of The Tattooed Wonder.”

           “Hardly, I only have a few. Now start stitching before I change my mind and wait for Sam; his are way neater than yours anyway.”

           “Few? Where are the other ones? Girls on the back of your leg that hula when you walk?”

           “Nice try.”

           He bites his lip before shifting the strap of your tank top off and sponging the back of your shoulder with a wet towel. When he unceremoniously pours a slug of whiskey over the wound you feel it for the first time and hiss, adrenaline and distraction of the joint pain worn off.

           “Sorry,” he murmurs, already dragging floss tight on a stitch with his teeth and moving on to the next as quickly as he can, half-humming that old Queen song, “gonna get me on the track, got a dragon on my back.”

           You weren’t lying earlier when you’d said that Sam’s stitches were usually cleaner, but Dean is being very careful in a way he usually isn’t—Chicks dig scars, Sammy! Stopped the bleeding, didn’t it?—and you tip your head back to check his work. The extra time he’s taking is to match up the back of one of the dragons, ripped open by a werewolf claw and currently held together by the delicate pinch of Dean’s index and thumb.

           It’s tough, but you manage to grab the reins on a smirk. Dean doesn’t notice, too focused on trying to keep the damage to your tattoo at a minimum. The gesture and the concentration are impossibly sweet, even though you’d long accepted that ink injury was inevitable with your lifestyle.

           When he’s done, callused fingertips tugging the last knot in place, Dean grabs the whiskey again. “Hold still,” he breathes, close enough you can feel it dance across the skin of your neck, and you hope he can’t see the goosebumps trailing down your arms like ivy. “That should do it. You can grab the first shower, but it’s big enough that some gauze on top for a few days wouldn’t hurt.”

           “Thanks,” you answer, startled and annoyed at your own voice when it creaks a touch. The flannel feels gross and heavy with blood, so you pull your arms out entirely and reach to drop it in the wastebasket.

           “I can deal with that if you want,” he offers, ruffling the velvet-short hair at the back of his neck. “The coat too. Not the first time getting blood out of clothes.”

           “Oh, okay. Uh, thanks. That would be really nice.”

           Dean only meets your eyes for the most fleeting moment when he takes it before biting his lip again and nodding to himself. You get to your feet and gingerly slip the displaced straps back over your shoulder, feeling the shift in energy in the room and not knowing what to do with it. Settling for a jocular little punch to Dean’s bicep, you grin at him. “Thanks for putting me back together, doc.”

           Sam comes back a couple minutes after you’ve closed the bathroom door with a translucent plastic bag full of first aid supplies. “In the shower?”

           Dean looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch and hands Sam the beer he’d already gotten out of the fridge in anticipation, his leg bouncing rapidly. “Yeah. They have everything?”

           His younger brother nods and accepts the bottle, taking a sip before laying out his haul on the coffee table and tossing the bag. “You okay?”

           He glances up with a quirked eyebrow. “Just tired, man.”

           Sam waits a silent beat, giving Dean a chance to spill whatever it is.

           “Did you, ah—did you know Y/N’s all inked up like a friggin’ sailor?”

           Sam chuckles and runs his tongue over his teeth. “A sailor? Y/N’s only got a few tattoos, dude.”

           “You knew?”

           “Of course I knew, some people like to learn things about their friends. That’s why you’re acting weird?”

           Dean scowls over the glass lip of his beer before taking a long pull. “Not acting weird, sue me for being surprised we’re working with the goddamn Hunter With The Dragon Tattoo.” His voice is low and surly like a kid on the edge of a tantrum even he knows isn’t worth it.

           “Y/N can do whatever they want, Dean. It doesn’t matter if you like the tattoos, you’re not their dad.” Sam’s barely keeping the giggle out of his voice, enjoying Dean’s frustration the way only a little brother could.

           “No, I don’t—it’s not that I don’t like them,” Dean stammers, the end of the statement fading off as a flush starts rising in his cheeks. He knows he’s said too much and Sam jumps on it.

           “Wait—you do like them, don’t you?” He crashes onto the couch, long limbs just enough in Dean’s space to be irritating. “I bet you loooooove knowing about those tattoos—I bet you’re dying to see them.”

           “Shut the fuck up,” Dean growls, kicking Sam in the thigh with a socked foot. Sam blocks him and starts laughing hard enough it makes him rattle all over like he’s on a rickety rollercoaster. When he finally catches his breath Dean is still pouting to whatever syndicated sitcom he’d thrown on. Over the tinny TV speakers they hear the shower turn off.

           “You know, if you’re feeling shy I could say something for you.” Sam’s grin is ten steps past cheeky, firmly planted in devilish, and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively over top of dimples perfectly sliced into his cheeks.

           Dean’s eyes widen like a cartoon and his voice is a gravelly hiss as he grabs a tight handful of Sam’s t-shirt, now crisp with dried blood. “Sam, I fucking swear to God—” but the threat is ineffectual, sheepish panic clear as anything on his face. The glint in Sam’s eye brightens and he twists out of his brother’s grip before he can react, crossing the room in a few huge steps so he’s nearly face to face with you when you open the bathroom door, Dean leaping off of the couch to chase him and slamming into Sam’s back when he stops short.

           “Whoa, Jesus—you scared the shit out of me,” you breathe, one hand on top of your fresh t-shirt to still your racing heartbeat, fistful of dirty laundry in the other.

           “Just need that second shower, didn’t mean to freak you out!” Sam smiles, warm and light and genuine. “Thanks! Gauze is on the table if you want it.” he says as he slips past you with a friendly and familiar kiss on the cheek, wink that you can’t see to Dean over your shoulder as he closes the bathroom door fast enough that the mirror next to the frame barely even steams.

           “Hey, could you—” you start.

           “Hey, do you—” Dean says at the exact same time. You both chuckle, and you can’t tell if you’re annoyed or not that the little charge in the room didn’t dissolve while the dried blood on you had rinsed down the shower drain. Dean holds up an open palm to indicate that you should go first.

           “Could you cover those stitches for me? The skin is kind of catching on my shirt.”

           “Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

           Shaking your hair loose and hanging the towel it was in on the back of a kitchenette chair, you sit on the edge of the bed to tug the collar of your t-shirt as far onto your shoulder as you can. Dean snatches some medical tape and a couple 4x4s from the table and sits down next to you, the heat coming off of him soothing the chill of the few remaining drops of water cooling on your skin. “I’m gonna need more slack than that,” he says, trying to be matter-of-fact but not quite covering the gooey softness around the edges that are making his voice more sultry than gruff. You try to pull harder on the collar but it’s already digging into your neck. The hand holding the gauze floats down to Dean’s lap while he rubs his jaw with the other. “Do you—could you just take it off?”

           You roll your eyes at him.

           “Or live with it, see if I care.” He holds your gaze, and that stubbornness you recognize.

           Reluctantly, you move your arm inside the shirt and slip it out from under the bottom hem, squirming in a way that covers your chest while exposing your shoulder. When he sweeps the shirt back you reflexively jolt away from him like you’ve been shocked. “Not being fresh, just don’t want to tape it in,” he murmurs.

           “I noticed you put the lines together really straight; thanks for that.”

           “Only took an extra second.” He rips another piece of tape off a roll with his teeth and is being so deliberate that now you’re sure he’s stalling for another few seconds to keep touching you but you don’t care; the feeling of his fingertips on your skin is tender and delicious.

           “If I knew you were going to be that careful, I would’ve been letting you do my stitches this whole time.”

           “Guess I’m just a regular damn seamstress,” he smiles, finally smoothing the last tape and only surreptitiously glancing out of the corner of his eye as you tuck your arm back into its sleeve. “So seriously, what’re the other tattoos?”

           “I’m sure you’ll see them soon enough,” you whisper as you stand up, committing to memory the way it makes Dean’s pupils flare as you ease under the scratchy motel sheets on the opposite bed.

-

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