#sam's outfit took me out

[otterlyart]

Live from London: Mighty Nien and Mighty Fine

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[mxltifxnd0m]

white collared ✮ s. winchester

summary: you can't stop staring at sam in his priest getup

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester gn afab! reader

word count: 1.1K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', no mention of pronouns besides a "good girl", cursing, making out, sam in the priest outfit (yes thats a warning), dean being a menace as per usual, implied smut, kinda edited

a/n: got inspired from a edit of priest sam i saw on my feed and i wrote most of this in class and then in the library, so enjoy :p

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

YOU WERE STARING. Scratch that. You were practically devouring Sam with your eyes as he came out of the motel bathroom, adjusting the clerical collar that was around his neck.

Your eyes followed Sam as he bustled around the motel room, barely registering that Dean had gone into the bathroom to change himself. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Sam, your mouth feeling dry as you swallowed thickly, trying to pull your gaze away from the taller Winchester. 

Christ almighty, how could someone look so good in a priest outfit?

You thought to yourself as Sam sat down at the table near the kitchenette in the room. Your eyes trailed up and down Sam’s broad figure from your spot on the bed. The black slacks were tight around his thighs, and you could only imagine how good his ass looked in those pants. 

The white clerical collar was starch white, contrasting the tanned skin at the hollow of Sam's throat. You bit your bottom lip as you saw Sam’s dexterous fingers pull at the collar, adjusting it before your eyes followed his hand as it fell back onto his thigh. 

A low chuckle coming from the man you were staring at snapped you out of your stupor, and you met Sam’s hazel eyes, filled with amusement. You could recognize the familiar look of desire that lingered in the greens and golds that colored his gaze. 

Sam’s plush lips were pulled into a sly smirk as he shook his head, a piece of his hair falling in his face as he did. “See something you like?” He asked, his tone teasing. 

You felt your cheeks fill with heat at being caught staring at Sam. But you tried playing it off, rolling your eyes as you sat up, making your way to the table he was sitting at, and resting your hip against the edge of it, looking to your left at him. Sam had to tilt his head up a bit to meet your eyes. 

It’s unfair how his height barely changes when he sits down. 

“Maybe I do.” You let your eyes trail over Sam’s body again before meeting his gaze again. 

Sam’s lips twitched before slowly rising in his seat, the chair scraping against the carpeted floor, and he leaned forward, his hands resting on the table as his face got closer to yours. Now, you had to crane your head back to make contact with his eyes. 

“This is doing something for you isn’t it?” He questioned, Sam’s head tilted slightly as the sly smirk turned into a grin. The white of his teeth almost distracted you from the devilish expression on his face as his eyes darkened and his tongue peaked out to wet his bottom lip. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to resist the urge to clench your thighs together at the lust filling his eyes as he stared at you, feeling heat pool in your core. 

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled as you broke the eye contact the two of you were sharing as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

You heard another chuckle escape Sam’s lips. You listened to some shuffling and felt one of his fingers push your jaw to look at him. Sam was standing in front of you as he took your chin in between his index finger and thumb. His lips stretched into a lewd smirk as he leaned closer to you, his cologne filling your senses as you felt his breath fan over your face. 

“Who knew that you have a thing for priests?” 

You uncrossed your arms and scoffed at him before hooking your fingers into the belt loops of his pants, pulling him closer to you. “I have a thing for you in this getup, not the other way around.” You clarified, your lips pulling into a half-smirk. 

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure?” 

“Shut up, you know how gorgeous you are.” You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s honestly unfair how good you look in anything.” 

Sam huffed a laugh through his nose. “Mhm, sure.” He rubbed his nose against yours before capturing your lips between his, pulling you into a fiery kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. You let out a low moan as you pulled him closer to you and felt his bulge grind against you. 

Sam always had this hold on you every time he placed his lips on yours. The only thing that was on your mind was always Sam. It was like there was a giant neon sign that flashed his name every time he touched you. 

Suddenly, Sam pulled himself away from you. What you didn’t realize as Sam was making out with you was that Dean had finished changing into his own priest getup and stepped out of the bathroom.

You heard him clear his throat, and you looked over at Dean. Though you would never admit it out loud or to anyone ever, Dean looked as good as Sam did in the white collar (but you had a bias towards your boyfriend because, well, he's your boyfriend).

Dean raised an eyebrow at the two of you. “You two done defiling each other?” 

“Shut up.” Sam shot a scowl at Dean's smirking face.  

“Nope." Dean said, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. "Next time don’t make out in the same room as me.” He came over to the table and smacked his hand onto Sam’s shoulder before brushing past him and left the motel room. 

You let out a small laugh as Sam’s face twisted into his bitch face before sighing. But a smile slowly appeared on his face at the sound of your laugh. 

He turned around to face you again. You looked at him with a smile. His smile got wider before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss against your lips. Sam pulled away, letting his forehead rest against yours. 

“You should probably get another room before we get back.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why?” 

The edges of Sam's' lips threatened to curl up before his face became serious.

"Because I have plans for you and I don't want to share this room with Dean."

"Oh?" A smirk grew on your face. "What kind of plans?" You asked coyly.

Sam let out a soft laugh before pulling back and cupping your face with his warm hand, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek softly.

"The kind of plans that require you to be on your knees repenting and confessing all the naughty thoughts that your mind conjured up about me ever since I came out of the bathroom."

The heat in your core grew brighter as you clenched your thighs together at the low rumble of Sam’s voice. 

“You understand?” You nodded dumbly at his words, and Sam pecked your lips. 

“Good girl.” Sam sent you another smirk before letting his hand fall from your face and exiting the room. 

You swallowed thickly as you stood frozen in your spot. “Well, fuck me.” You breathed out before leaving the room and getting another, just like Sam asked. 

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words

An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.

A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.

The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks. 

“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about. 

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation. 

“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies." 

"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.

“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.

“James? Bucky?" 

Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.

Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts. 

But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give. 

"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray. 

“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood. 

“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.

“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face. 

“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms. 

Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth. 

“No! Thumper in Bambi!" 

"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice. 

“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.

“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.

“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi." 

"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it. 

“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly. 

“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone." 

"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”

You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang. 

"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?" 

Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned. 

So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once. 

He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes. 

“Yeah it’s nice, right?” 

“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”

“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit. 

“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm. 

“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely. 

“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.” 

“Jesus. That’s…intense.” 

He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled. 

“Can I?” 

“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours. 

Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. 

“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm? 

“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!" 

Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag. 

Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him. 

You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back! 

“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?” 

He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours. 

“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying. 

“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.” 

“Oh, is it working?” 

“You have to tell me that, silly!”

“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen. 

“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine. 

A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view. 

 “I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.” 

“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly. 

Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.

“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink. 

But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes. 

“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles. 

“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.” 

“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!” 

“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?” 

Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie. 

“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?” 

Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up. 

“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve. 

“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!” 

“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist. 

“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong. 

Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours. 

“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so. 

“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away. 

“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.” 

Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised. 

“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.” 

And then you were alone. 

You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled. 

“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself. 

He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed. 

“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles. 

“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders. 

Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip. 

“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” 

You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?” 

Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet. 

“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly. 

Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves. 

“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.” 

“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.” 

“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.” 

“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move. 

“I do!”

“Tell me then.” 

His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.” 

“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.” 

“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”

“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.” 

“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.” 

“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move. 

“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you. 

He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control. 

“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.

"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together. 

You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you. 

“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.

“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful. 

He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together. 

You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe. 

Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton. 

You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady. 

“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you. 

Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided. 

You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep. 

[nena-la-fresa]

All Hallows Eve

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Flirting | Smut | Semi Public | Fingering | P in V | Halloween Frat Party | Frat Boy Josh (ish) |

Word Count: 1754

A/n: A lot more flirting than smut tbh

You were a little hesitant about wearing this outfit. You knew from the picture that the nurse costume was going to be short but you didn’t think that some of your ass was going to be sticking out. You heard a knock on your door and Sam walked in. She started to laugh at the look of worry on your face. 

“What? Is it bad?” You turned slightly to try and look at your ass in the mirror. 

She laughed again, “No you look good. You just look freaked out.” She set down her costume and started to get dressed. 

“I am freaked out. Do you see how short this is? My whole ass is about to fall out.” You pull it down a little.

“Good. Maybe Josh will finally build up the courage to ask you out.” She smirked at you. 

“Yeah sure. I genuinely don’t understand him. He flirts so much, like with almost everyone and you could never tell when it's real.” You sat down on your bed to put on your heels. 

“You know what you should totally do?” 

You looked over at her, “What?” 

“You should use those red panties you bought like a week ago. You know the lacy ones, I think that'll catch his attention. But also because those boy shorts are not it.” 

You looked down and could see in the mirror that you were still wearing your normal underwear. “I completely forgot to change them. Oh my god, it would have looked so stupid.” 

Sam had finished her makeup in the meantime while you looked through your drawer for your panties. Once you changed you made sure to put on your little nurse hat and fixed your hair before you two left. 

You could hear the music from down the street, but that was typically how it always was. And to think this was the last time you'd be going to a Halloween Frat Party. You both squeezed your way in through the door, once you did you had found Mike and the rest of the group. Josh was nowhere to be found. Not surprising since he’s usually the one hosting.

Once you guys were settled in you let Sam know you were going to leave for a second. 

“Hey I’m gonna get a drink, did you want anything?” 

She shook her head, “No I'm good for now thank you. But come right back, I don't want you getting lost.”

You nodded your way and pushed your way through the crowded hallways. Thankfully the kitchen was less crowded, you got yourself a cup and started to mix yourself a drink. You could feel someone stand next to you. You looked to your left and saw a guy smirking at you. 

“How come I haven’t seen you before? This your first year here?” He bites his lip and looks at you up and down. 

“You must've not been looking hard.” You finished your drink before putting it to your lips.

“Nah I think with that ass I think I would have noticed.” He tried moving closer but stepped back a bit. 

You felt hands on your waist and a body pressing against you. “Hey babe. What'd ya make me?”

You lightly rolled your eyes judging by his voice, he took the cup from your hand and drank it. You watched as the guy stayed put but continued to glare at Josh. He set the drink down, “Hey babe was this guy bothering you?”

He turned you around so that he could look at you. “Josh, it's fine.” You put a hand on his chest.

“See man she said it’s fine. So how about you get going.” 

Josh looked back at the guy, “Look man, you’re being kind of a buzzkill. I’m tryin to bone my girl so how about you leave?” 

The guy scoffs, grabbing his drink to leave. 

“So I'm your girl now?” you roll your eyes looking back at him. 

You watch his eyes leave your lips to look further down. How could he not when your breasts were pressing up against his chest. 

“Hey big boy.” You put a finger under his chin, “My eyes are up here.” 

“No, I know.” He smirked at you, his hands were now on either side of you. 

You scoffed at him, “Okay, so are you going to remake my drink or should I call that guy back over?” 

“I’ll make it. Don’t get your panties in a twist. Speaking of which, lace looks good on you.” He winked at you before letting you go. 

“Oh you were looking?” You propped yourself up on the counter waiting for him. 

“I don’t have to look hard, princess.” He motioned down to your half open legs that exposed the lace more. 

Even if you tried teasing him it always backfires. He’d always find a way to make you nervous. 

“Oh maybe I’ll just open them more if that's the case.” You started to open your legs more but were stopped by his hands on your thighs and him now in between your legs. 

“What’s wrong babe?” You tried to get back at him for using that word, “You trying to stop potential candidates?” 

He scoffed, “No I just don’t want you to look like an easy target.”

“Oh so you think I look easy. Okay.” You crossed your arms and nodded your head. 

“I just don’t like how they were looking at you.” You felt his tone become serious. 

It felt off, so you tried changing the conversation. “So what are you supposed to be? A handyman?” You trailed your hand across his chest. 

“You can’t tell?” He spins around to show himself off. 

You shook your head and laughed a little, “Not a clue. But now that I’m looking at you. You look good. Very fuckable.” 

Josh froze for a moment, he positioned himself back in between your legs. His hands resting on your thighs. His hands left a burning sensation, your breath hitched when you felt them glide against your skin. 

“Oh yeah?” 

You tried speaking but nothing came out, all you could do was nod. 

Your breaths were deep, his hand made its way to your cunt. He let his thumb rub against your cunt feeling how wet you were. He pulled your panties to the side before he started to ran his fingers across your lips. He watched as you leaned your head back, your soft neck exposed. 

He pushed his fingers inside, he could feel you clenching around him. He leans forward, kissing your neck slowly. The heat of his breath against your neck sent chills against your spine. 

He sucked against your neck just as his pace began to pick up. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out felt good but it wasn't enough. It felt like something was missing. You wanted to be full. You needed to be full. 

“Josh.” you moaned in his ear, “I need you in me. Please.” 

Josh wasted no time unzipping his costume, he pulled you to the edge of the counter. You watched as he spit on his dick, his precum and spit mixing together as he pumped himself. He positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed himself in, groaning at your warmth. 

You could feel him bottom out, you wrapped your legs around his waist. You watched his dick moving in and out of you. Even over all the music and the chatting behind the kitchen door you could hear the sound of your wet cunt. You knew he heard it too judging by the way his pace had picked up. 

His thrust became more erratic. His eyes shifted between your mouth and your stuffed cunt. 

“Fuck.” You heard him whisper. You heard his breathing getting deeper. 

He lifted you up from the counter, he turned you around and bent you over. With his hands on your waist he pushed himself back in, this time he hit all the best spots. You could feel him pounding into you harder. 

For him his view was everything, your hair bouncing, your dress fitting you just right, the way your dress was creeping up all the way, your panties to the side, and the way your ass bounced with every thrust he made. 

“Fuck you’re so hot.” 

“Fuck Josh.” 

His thrust became more erratic, more desperate. He could feel you getting closer, your cunt sucking him in and tightening. It was enough to get cum in you. And god did he want to cum in you. He’s been dreaming about this for years. Fucking you, watching you beg for his cock, before for him to fuck you, to cum in you. He wished he could watch his cum drip out of you. 

But what he didn’t wish for were his friends walking in. 

“God Y/n what’s taking you so long?”

“Are you sure she's even in here?” 

The door was flung open. Chris and Sam came bursting in, and now regretting checking up on your two. 

“Oh my god!” Sam quickly turned around, she started giggling at the sight though. She knew she was going to comment later about how the panties idea worked. 

Hearing the door swing open Josh looked in the direction, “Oh shit.” He quickly pulled out and put his dick away, covering you in the process. 

Sam had noticed that Chris hadn’t turned around yet, so she scolded him, “Chris.” 

“What?” He looked at her as she motioned to turn around. He finally did. 

Just as Josh put himself away he helped you pull your dress back down to his original place. 

Sam cleared her through, “Are you two both decent now?” You could hear her smirk. 

“Yeah.” You could feel the heat creep up on your cheeks. 

You watched as Sam and Chris were smirking at the both of you. 

“And here I was worried about you. I’m sure you’re not thirsty anymore huh.” 

“Sam!” You could feel Josh looking at you, you just knew he was smiling. You turned around, feeling slightly embarrassed you slightly looked at him. 

You watched him smirk at you. You could see that there was no regret on his face. “I’ll um. I’ll see you later.”

 He took your appearance in again, he thought you looked even better after sex. 

“Alright. I’ll find you.”

You smiled at him, “Okay, don’t look too hard.”

You watched as he looked you up and down, “Oh I will.”

[lonelysheepling]

Recently read @queenofthequillandink ’s DPxDC crossover fic Unearthed, Reborn

I got inspired to draw character sheets for Danny, Sam, Jason, and Jazz’s vigilante personas. Here’s a link to the author’s drawings of their outfits (these were a vital reference for me when doing this so thank you so much for sharing them Quill) More commentary (like 7+ paragraphs plus 2 images) about this project and the designs below the “keep reading” line.

None of these thoughts I have for each character are in order, but I have a lot of commentary for these since this project was a lot more conceptual than my normal work. I also just like talking about my art/design process. If you ever find yourself wondering at some point why an element from the original design wasn’t included, the answer is that the removal was completely intentional and part of my grandmaster vision for this work and wasn’t because I just forgot about it entirely during the design process.

————————————————————————

Aconite (Sam)

This was the first one I sketched out, I wasn’t even sure at the time if I was going to fully commit to drawing all of them. I thought that Sam was gonna be the hardest since her description was way longer than the others, but then bird boy beat her out. I took a lot of creative liberties with her design, the bag was added bc I couldn’t figure out how to add pockets to the skirt. I was trying to avoid a joker color scheme so I had a lot of ref images that I got by searching like “purple green aesthetic” on Pinterest. The dark purple and dark forest/blueish green won out in the end. I desaturated a lot of my colors for her just to get as far away from the neon Gotham rogue aesthetic. I also added the bdsm harness over the armor to add more punk elements to her design, I know that in real life that would be very uncomfortable to wear over scalemail armor but sometimes we take creative liberties when they look sick as fuck. Also, I didn’t realize until I went to look for a reference for aconite flowers that aconite is wolfsbane! That was neat to learn! Also, the font I used for Aconite is called “zai Art School Calendar 1931”, I’ve used this a few times for other projects, it’s one of my favorite fonts. The ‘zai’ fonts the creator has are all very good.

Shade (Danny)

There wasn't much to add to this page. His outfit is pretty simple (besides the patterning). I wasn’t sure how to pull of an optical illusion pattern but I was reminded how I sometimes get an eyestrain induced headache when looking at someone wearing a patterned shirt with really thin stripes so I just leaned into the idea of a small/detailed hard lined pattern. I originally made 5 separate patterns for him and then turned them into stamp brushes in procreate. I only ended up using three of them, the one on the chest, the one on the legs, and the one on his hand. But, I imagine the patterns fade and shift when he moves, sort of like a lenticular print. I gave him constellation freckles and stylized the hair’s fade into white. The hair was inspired by how time-woods draws Martin Blackwood’s hair (linked: time-woods’s fanart of Martin Blackwood). Also put way too much effort into the teeth on the mask. I just like the chunky teeth design. Oh yeah and the font I used for him is called “Typewriter_Condensed_Demi”

Erinys (Jason)

Repeatedly ran into the issue of not having enough canvas space bc of my fervent need to thoroughly document and plan out how the wings worked. I also reversed the colors for the bodysuit & armor so the under layer was black while the armor plates were red. I only realized afterwards that I may have been inspired by the red centipedes in Rain World (linked: gif of the red centipede, don’t click the link if you’re unsettled/afraid of bugs/insects), artists subconsciously draw inspiration from other artists all the time though so I’m not like upset about it. I stand by it because it looks sick as hell. Also leaned into the magpie theming for the wings. I think the vigilante form was supposed to be reverse magpie coloring? I can’t remember, but I stuck with normal magpie coloring. The anatomy of how the wings connected to the collarbone was inspired by JayEaton’s Magpie Bridge Project. Reference image link. Link to the article the image is from. I didn’t draw the wing armor because I couldn’t figure out how to would work with the wing anatomy and I ran out of canvas space. Finally, the font used for him is “DIN Condensed” this is a default font, I would’ve used something more punk but I needed the text to be legible.

Insight (Jazz)

I did Jazz after I’d already finished the initial trio, so I had to switch to a new canvas for her bc I’d hit the layer limit multiple times on the previous one. I really do love doing that spiked under-eyelash thing with characters. Don’t know when that started. Anyway, I added the shoulder pads to her outfit to help break up the empty space. The golden eyes were a nice accent color since her design is very overwhelmingly green. Honestly the braid hairstyle and gold eyes really do obscure her identity, multiple times when drawing her I was worried that she didn’t really resemble Jazz enough. There wasn’t a drawing from the author for her so I only had the text description to go off of. I just realized that she sort of reminds me of a forest ranger and I don’t know what to do with that realization. I copy/pasted my drawing of her eyes when gold and recolored them to match her normal eye color. There were two layers for that, a hue shift and a hard light layer to emphasize the shadows.

Here’s what it looks like without the hue shift: 

It looks really cool and I’m 100% that color combo in another drawing down the line. Oh yeah and the font used for this sheet was “Euphemia UCAS”. It comes with Apple’s operating system, I use it as a neutral default text most of the time bc it’s nicer than helvetica but not overly fancy like Times New Roman—and why am I talking about fonts. ——————————————————————— Anyway, this project was very fun to work on. The alt text for this was its own endeavor, hope the folks using screen-readers don’t mind 4-5 paragraphs of description text. Also, I cannot remember for the life of me if Dani got a costume description, but if she does I’ll make sure to update this image set with a sheet for her. And to the author, QueenOfTheQuill, if you’re reading this message that I’ve left at the very bottom of this post below a read more line, thank you for the fic. It’s very good and I’m glad I caught it during my slow decent into DPxDC brainrot. I love the interactions between Jason and Tim, it’s nice seeing a revived Jason that’s not bogged down by pit rage. They definitely seem like they could’ve been good friends if not for the unfortunate circumstances that led them to meet in canon. Also, I’m sure Jazz will love interacting with Batman and Nightwing. So much psychological & childhood trauma to unpack with them. Feel free to use/share these images if you so desire and thanks again for your work.

[magical-reid]

Unspoken Truths

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (One use of Y/N)

Setting: Modern MCU timeline, Avengers Tower.

Word Count: 1K

Prompt: 46: “Why are you staring at me?” “Because I think you’re beautiful.”

Summary: In the quiet early hours at Avengers Tower, you’re caught off guard when Bucky Barnes, unexpectedly complimenting your natural beauty, makes you question your insecurities. His sincere words begin to dissolve your self-doubt, leaving you feeling seen and appreciated, just as you are.

It was still early in the morning when you stumbled into the kitchen of Avengers Tower, eyes barely open, a yawn escaping your lips. You were dressed in oversized shorts and a baggy shirt, your messy hair in a loose knot on top of your head. The lack of makeup and the sleepiness in your eyes made you feel more self-conscious than you’d like to admit, but it didn’t stop you from heading straight for the coffee machine.

You hadn’t expected to be greeted by anyone at this hour. Most of the Avengers were early risers, but you knew they all had their routines, and this was your time to just exist in peace before the chaos of the day began. You filled your mug with the dark liquid and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the kitchen island as you waited for the caffeine to kick in. The quiet hum of the Tower was comforting.

You weren’t expecting someone else to be there at this hour. But then you heard it: a low voice coming from the doorway.

"Morning."

You blinked in surprise, glancing over to see Bucky standing in the doorway, his hair a little unkempt, and wearing a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. He was one of the few people who could make a casual outfit look effortlessly good, and you tried not to notice the way his gaze lingered on you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, slightly caught off guard by his presence. You shifted uncomfortably, adjusting your posture and looking back down at your coffee. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of your appearance, but there was something about Bucky’s quiet intensity that made you feel… exposed.

You could feel him staring at you, his gaze heavy on the back of your neck. His presence was always intimidating, but it felt different now—more personal, more lingering. You shifted awkwardly, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Why are you staring at me?” you asked, trying to mask the insecurity creeping into your voice. Your hands wrapped around your mug a little tighter as you took a small sip, avoiding his eyes.

Bucky’s gaze never wavered. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, still as quiet as ever. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t look away.

“Because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words hit you like a jolt of electricity, leaving you stunned and unsure of how to respond. Your heart raced a little, caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. No one had ever said anything like that to you, especially not when you felt like you were looking at your least polished self. You opened your mouth, trying to form words, but nothing came out. It felt as if the air between you had suddenly thickened, the distance between the two of you narrowing in a way that made everything else fade away.

Bucky, noticing your hesitation, seemed to soften, his smile lingering. He took a step forward, though he kept a comfortable distance, and you could feel his eyes tracing your features.

Before you could say anything, there was a sound from behind him. The rest of the team had entered the kitchen, Sam, Steve, and Natasha, all talking among themselves. It was a little distracting, and the sudden noise helped you regain some composure. You pulled your gaze away from Bucky and tried to act casual, but your heart was still pounding in your chest.

“Morning, guys,” you muttered, focusing on stirring your coffee.

“Look who’s up early,” Sam teased, throwing a playful wink in your direction. You gave him a tight smile, still feeling a little awkward, but grateful for the distraction.

“Coffee, huh?” Natasha asked, nodding at your mug. “Good idea.”

Steve, meanwhile, was exchanging a few words with Bucky, but the older soldier was unusually quiet. You noticed him glance at you again when Sam and Natasha started talking about something else. It was subtle, but his attention was unmistakable, and it made you fidget in your seat.

You tried to shake it off, but every time Bucky looked at you, the small flutter in your chest returned.

As the conversation continued around you, you found yourself caught between trying to remain calm and trying not to overthink what Bucky had said. His words echoed in your mind, and despite your usual self-assurance, the insecurity gnawed at you. How could he think you were beautiful? You weren’t even dressed up, and your hair was a mess. It felt like a compliment that was too big, too out of reach, for someone like you.

Finally, after a few more quiet moments, Bucky took a deep breath and seemed to step closer to you, his voice low and steady.

“Hey,” he said, making sure you looked up at him. “I meant it.”

You blinked, still caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts. “What?”

“That I think you’re beautiful,” Bucky said again, his tone firm, but this time there was no teasing, no hesitation. Just sincerity. “Even like this. Especially like this.”

His words hit you harder than the first time, and your chest tightened. It was one thing for him to say it, but another to actually believe it. You felt your face flush, unsure of how to respond, but you didn’t have to. Bucky, as quiet as ever, seemed content to simply stand there, waiting for you to take in what he had said.

The rest of the team continued their conversation, but it was like a distant hum now. Everything faded in the background except for Bucky’s steady gaze and his soft, honest words.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling your insecurities start to melt away just a little bit. “I… I needed to hear that.”

Bucky’s smile was small but genuine, and this time when he spoke, there was a softness to his voice that you hadn’t heard before. “You don’t need to hear it from anyone else, (Y/N).”

And for the first time that morning, the weight of your self-consciousness felt just a little bit lighter.

[shazzbaa]

(audio from portal 2!) This is how that dream conversation went right????? au where everythings the same but poor edward is from the west country,

ANYWAY LMAO HI I've been learning animation just to make this!! FOR SOME REASON!!! IT TOOK TWO WEEKS TO ANIMATE. this quote was my IMMEDIATE thought as soon as Poor Edward said "I've had to make ALL the sacrifices for this marriage!" so i just needed to bring it into being outside of my brain. tbh IM PRETTY PROUD OF IT...... anyway sweet dreams samuel!!

[video transcript] [Poor Edward, from below, gesturing with exasperation]: I've done nothing but sacrifice to get us here! And what have you sacrificed? [Cut to Samuel, feeling around him to figure out that he's in a coffin, panicking as the sides start closing in] Poor Edward: Nothing. Zero. [/end transcript]

additional notes:

thren and I both did the riot rather than burning down the orphanage, so instead of burn scars, Edward got his hands broken. He might have new skin but making a fist is still a lil lopsided,

one of the friends in our flondon group has been making an impassioned case for Edward favouring regency-era looks and I must admit ive adopted this into my belief system, so thats leaked into his outfit here. i havent been keeping sam's outfit historically accurate tho so i dont know why i think this is something i need to clarify

this animation was done in Krita, which is a free open-source program that was pretty easy to get the hang of -- Jesse J Jones and Animate with Dermot had tutorials that helped me a lot if anyone else wants to try it!

[nickistuffs]

Hello Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: This feels fated to meet again and again and again

Word Count: 18.08k

Warnings: None. just fluff and also a slow burn.

...

A ping from your email broke your concentration on work. You sighed, already assuming it was one of your manufacturers asking for yet another confirmation about a product you’d been working over for months. Without much thought, you clicked on the notification, ready to fire off a quick response.

To your surprise, the email wasn’t from a manufacturer—it was from Sam, your old friend and occasional collaborator. His subject line read: “Job Offer You Can’t Refuse.” Intrigued, you opened the email and quickly scanned its contents.

It seemed Sam had found you a project that piqued his interest—and yours. The pay was good, the timeline was tight, and the concept sounded straightforward.

You immediately picked up your phone and called him. No need for formalities; this was Sam, after all.

“Hey, Sam,” you said as soon as he answered, skipping any pleasantries. “What’s this mysterious job offer you’re dangling in front of me?”

“Oh, that.” He sounded smug, which only made you roll your eyes. “I’m under an NDA, so I can’t say too much, but it’s a pop-up store project. The whole thing needs to be modular and removable, so it can be packed up and relocated in two months. Easy, right? You in?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m in! Sounds simple enough. Send over the contract and details, and I’ll get started.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the phone. “See you onsite, Y/N.” ...

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were ready—or so you thought.

Sam couldn’t make it and had entrusted you to lead the meeting solo, but you were used to working independently, so it wasn’t a problem. Dressed in a professional outfit that balanced comfort and confidence, you walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

As you glanced around at the product displays, your heart skipped a beat. You could already tell this was a high-profile client. Their products, branding, and visuals exuded quality and creativity.

As you tried to calm your nerves, the conference room door opened, and a group of people filed out.

A friendly woman approached you, pulling you back to reality.

“Hello, are you Ms. Y/N L/N?”

“Yes,” you replied with a polite smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I have a meeting with your visual merchandising manager.”

“Perfect, you’re our two o’clock appointment. Please come in.”

You stepped inside the sleek, minimalistic conference room and began setting up.

“Our lead designer just stepped out for a quick break,” the woman explained, handing you a water bottle. “They’ll be back in ten minutes and a few other designers. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait? Coffee?”

“Water is fine. Thank you,” you replied.

You opened your laptop, pulled up your notes and sketches, and jotted down a few ideas in your journal. You were mid-thought when the door opened behind you.

You turned, ready to greet whoever entered, but the words caught in your throat.

It was him. Harry Styles.

...

You both stared at each other, completely stunned. Of all the people you could run into at this meeting, it had to be him. You hadn’t seen Harry since your last encounter at Felice’s Café.

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, your mind scrambling to process his presence. He looked just as effortlessly charming as you remembered, his warm green eyes flickering with recognition and surprise.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, his voice smooth but slightly uncertain.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. I’m the owner of the company. Nice to meet you…?”

It took you a second to respond, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you as well.”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. You scrambled to your feet, standing taller than you’d expected, and reached out to shake his hand.

Your hands met, and you shook it—a bit too long, you thought as the realization hit. The warmth of his hand lingered, making you feel like time had momentarily stopped again.

You quickly dropped your hand and clasped it behind your back, your face heating up.

For a split second, an awkward silence filled the room. Harry seemed like he was about to say something, his lips parting as if to speak—

But just then, the door opened, and a small group of people filed into the room, shattering the quiet bubble you’d both been trapped in.

“Ah, great,” said a cheerful man from the group, clapping his hands together as he approached. “Harry, you’re here. And this must be Ms. L/N!”

The moment was gone. Harry straightened, his expression shifting seamlessly to one of polite professionalism, though you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he glanced back at you.

You offered a polite nod to the newcomers, forcing yourself to focus as introductions were made. Yet, as the meeting began, you couldn’t help but feel like something important had been left unsaid.

And judging by the way Harry occasionally glanced your way, he felt the same.

...

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself quietly observing you. Initially, he’d assumed you might be shy or reserved—perhaps because of the nervous energy that had lingered when you first met. But as you delved into your presentation, he realized just how wrong he was.

The confidence with which you spoke captivated the room. Your tone was steady yet approachable, and your words were carefully chosen to articulate your vision. You presented your design concepts with precision, highlighting the intricate details and practical functionality behind each element.

Harry leaned forward slightly in his chair, his interest piqued. The way you seamlessly balanced creativity with logic was impressive. He could tell how much thought you’d put into this project—every choice seemed deliberate, every detail purposeful.

What surprised him most, however, was your ability to command the room. You weren’t just presenting; you were selling the design, painting a picture of how the concept would come to life. And the team was eating it up.

He stole a glance around the room. His team, typically quick to interject or challenge ideas, sat quietly, nodding along with your points. Even he couldn’t help but admire the way you navigated through the questions and feedback with such ease.

When you paused for questions, Harry cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the room.

“I really appreciate the thought you’ve put into the design—it’s incredibly well-considered. I do have a question, though,” he said, his tone genuinely curious. “You mentioned incorporating natural textures into the layout. Can you elaborate on how those elements will remain modular while still maintaining their aesthetic appeal?”

You turned to him, locking eyes for a brief moment. His question wasn’t just thoughtful—it showed that he’d been paying close attention to your presentation.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” you began, your voice steady. “That’s a great question. For the natural textures, such as reclaimed wood and stone-inspired finishes, I’ve ensured that they’re lightweight and easily removable. The modular framework uses a system of interchangeable panels, so the aesthetic can be retained without compromising functionality.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed. “That makes sense. And it aligns well with what we’re trying to achieve here—something unique, but also adaptable. Nicely done.”

You gave him a polite smile, though inside, his compliment sent a ripple of pride through you.

As the meeting continued, Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to the passion and expertise you brought to your work. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself—so composed and articulate, yet with a spark of creativity that set you apart.

And as the session wrapped up, he found himself wondering if this serendipitous reunion might be more than just a chance encounter.

As handshakes and congratulations were exchanged, the manager gave a final nod of approval, and Harry himself followed suit, offering his praise for your presentation. It had been a resounding success.

With most of the team filing out of the room, the buzz of conversation slowly faded, leaving you alone at the conference table, still stuffing your things into your bag. You were on a high from the meeting—everything had gone so smoothly, but the exhaustion from a long day was beginning to catch up.

Suddenly, you heard a soft cough. Looking up, you were surprised to see Harry still standing near the door.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, startled. “Are there any more questions you need from me, Mr. Styles?” You quickly adjusted your posture, feeling a bit flustered.

Harry smiled, the easy warmth you remembered from your past encounter resurfacing. “You can call me Harry,” he replied with a casual, almost reassuring tone. “I’m not too big on formalities. Can I call you Y/N?”

“That’s alright with me,” you answered with a smile, pleased by the friendly tone of the conversation. It felt much more natural now that the formality had faded.

A beat of silence passed before Harry spoke again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity. “So, how long have you been eating breakfast at Feli’s Café?”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Oh, I’ve been going there for a while now. I usually grab a matcha latte and sometimes a sandwich. Feli’s a good friend of mine—she’s the one who got me hooked on her menu.”

Good thing I found your journal, your presentation was fantastic. Harry complimented.

Thank you again for giving it back. and sorry I was on a time crunch that I didn't introduce myself.

Harry chuckled softly, his expression warm.

You felt a sudden shift in the air between you two, the unspoken moment starting to surface. But before either of you could delve deeper into the conversation, a voice from the hallway interrupted the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the manager popped his head back in, looking around. “But I just wanted to confirm we’re all set for the next steps, Y/N? Can we count on you for the design rollout next week?”

You gave a nod, quickly snapping back into professional mode. “Yes, everything is in order. I'll start on the proper revisions needed for the plans."

“Perfect,” the manager smiled, satisfied. “Thanks again for your excellent work today.”

As he left the room, you turned back to Harry, who was still standing near the door, clearly reluctant to leave just yet.

“I guess I should let you get back to your day,” you said, trying to break the lingering tension. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

...

It had been a month since you completed your work for Pleasing. You scrolled through their Instagram, admiring how your designs brought their brand to life. Seeing people lining up to buy their high-quality products filled you with a deep sense of pride.

You’d only seen Harry a handful of times during the project, but he always seemed busy, caught up in meetings or surrounded by other people.

Sighing loudly, you collapsed onto your bed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over you. You had plans to join an art market this month, where you’d sell your prints, stickers, and other handmade knickknacks. It was something to look forward to, at least.

“Will we ever meet again?” you murmured to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, what are the chances?” You already knew the answer before you even finished the thought. Harry was probably the busiest person you’d ever met, and you were just a nobody in his world.

Your heart felt heavy as you grappled with the cold, hard reality—he might have only been a fleeting moment in your life, a beautiful memory to cherish but not something meant to last. ...

A month had passed, and Harry still hadn’t been able to properly speak with you. He had been trying—desperately, in fact. He’d gone to the café where you first met, hoping to run into you again, but you never showed up, or you came at different times. He even tried catching you after work, but you were always whisked away to other locations or surrounded by people.

In a final act of determination, Harry had even approached HR for your contact information, but they refused to give it to him. Frustrated and defeated, he began to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As he walked home one evening, his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster advertising an upcoming art market at the same location he frequented. He stared at it for a moment, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest before he brushed it off with a sigh. Maybe it was time to give up. Maybe it was never destined to happen.

But something about the poster lingered in his mind—a quiet, persistent thought that made him decide, almost on impulse, to go to the market anyway. Perhaps, by some happy chance, fate would intervene.

You were busy setting up your booth in the bustling market, carefully adjusting misaligned prints and rearranging trinkets to create the perfect display. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, the atmosphere lively as other artists greeted passersby and showcased their work.

“Your paintings are just lovely, dear,” an elderly woman remarked, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to one of your pieces.

“They really are,” her partner chimed in with a warm smile. “We could hang one in the hallway, couldn’t we?”

“Excuse me, miss,” another potential buyer interjected, holding up one of your prints. “How much is this?”

“For the A4 size, it’s 25 pounds,” you replied with a friendly smile.

More people began to gather, drawn by the charm of your artwork. You did your best to keep up, answering questions, wrapping purchases, and making small talk with the growing crowd. It was a whirlwind, but you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride seeing so many people appreciating your work.

...

Walking through the bustling market, Harry wandered past the stalls he always loved to visit. He admired the fresh vegetables and fruits, browsed through racks of thrifted clothes, and flipped through stacks of vinyl records that always piqued his interest. But today, something different caught his attention—a special event featuring local artists who had been invited to showcase and sell their work.

As he turned toward the next stall, his eyes landed on something—or rather, someone.

It was you.

There you stood in front of your stall, surrounded by your artwork, speaking to customers with an energy that radiated warmth and passion. The light in your eyes, the way you animatedly gestured while describing your creations, the genuine smile that lit up your face—it was everything he remembered and more.

For a moment, Harry froze, rooted in place as he took it all in. You looked so at home in your element, effortlessly captivating the people around you. His heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. But before doubt could creep in, before he could second-guess himself, he moved.

Harry started walking toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but there was only one clear thought that anchored him: now or never.

This was his chance to finally talk to you—to close the distance that had been lingering between you both for far too long. He wasn’t going to let it slip away again.

...

It has been a good day so far. People were buying your prints, admiring your stickers, and complimenting your craftsmanship. You smiled to yourself, feeling content with the steady stream of visitors who appreciated your work.

Just as you reached for your water bottle, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hello, again, Y/N.”

You froze, the cap of your bottle slipping through your fingers. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

There he was—Harry. Standing there amidst the sea of market-goers, looking as effortlessly charming as ever in a white T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses perched on his curls. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as your eyes met.

“Harry?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it was you,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over your stall, taking in the vibrant prints and trinkets on display. “This is all yours?”

You nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, just a little side project I do. How…how did you find me here?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was just wandering around, and there you were. Funny how the universe works, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, funny.”

He looked around at your stall again, picking up one of your prints—a delicate watercolor of flowers intertwined with abstract shapes. “This is beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the compliment.

“Do you take commissions?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intensely focused on you.

“Sometimes,” you said, tilting your head. “Why? Are you looking for something specific?”

“I might be,” he replied cryptically, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Before you could press him further, he added, “But first, do you have a break coming up? I was thinking I could buy you a coffee.”

Your breath caught at his unexpected offer. “A coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’ve been on my mind lately, Y/N. Thought maybe this time we could actually catch up without a room full of people or work deadlines in the way.”

Your pulse quickened as you tried to process his words. Was he really asking you out, or was this just Harry being Harry—charming and polite?

“Well,” you started, glancing at your stall. “I do have a little time before the market closes…”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wait for you to pack up, or we can just grab something nearby. Whatever works for you.”

As he spoke, the faint hum of the market seemed to fade into the background. For the first time in weeks, the heavy feeling in your chest lifted just a little. Maybe this wasn’t just a fleeting moment after all.

...

Okay, this is actually too long I’ll make it into two parts. Give you guys some suspense. Thank you for reading everyone! ☺️

[radiance1]

Danny is so, oh so very tired about the amount of marriage proposals that popped up in front of him. Not even a day past his announcement as Crown prince either.

He's thankful that neither of his four parents are pushing him towards accepting it, but it's everyone (besides his friends of course) else who either try and subtly suggest it or outright asks him if he's chosen a spouse yet.

He's only 14! He doesn't need a spouse! And they were probably far older than him too!

Even Vlad of all people took some kind of pity on him and just decided to be a normal (for a billionaire) guy who isn't trying to kill his dad.

...However, that doesn't mean he wants him to seduce him either!

(Danny: Stop trying to seduce my dad you low-budget vampire!

Vlad, calmly sipping tea: No.)

If he wasn't majorly burnt out from the number of proposals he has to sort through, he would most definitely throw him far across town, away from his dad and mom.

He needed to find a way to stop all of these letters that just keep coming, and fast. He doesn't know how much longer he could take of reading fancy script over and over and over again, his eyes already hurt enough.

He tried to ask his Father for help, his only response was to choose a consort that he saw fit to stand alongside him. Then he had to flee before he gushed about his pops.

He asked his pops, who only said that the answer would come to him in time. Which was of no help whatsoever.

He asked his mom, she at least tried to help somewhat. Giving him some equipment to ward off any ghost who would try and forcibly take him as a consort, which had a low chance of happening considering his strength, but he was happy about it regardless.

He then finally asked his dad, after making sure that vampiric leech isn't near any of his human parents. Surprisingly, he had a pretty good idea of what to do.

He was a halfa, wasn't he? Why limit himself to just ghosts? Surely, due to his half-human status he could choose someone near his age among humanity.

Well, not in those exact words, but it was a great idea regardless! Plus, they never did specify if he had to choose a ghost consort anyways.

Now he just had to decide who to pick, really. His two best friends are out of the option, they're close, but not in that sort of way. Plus, Sam is busy with Undergrowth and Tucker bonding with Technus who was apparently apart of his family tree somewhere along the line.

Then, when he was sorting through the letters and was sure his eyes were about to bleed from reading so many fancy words, he felt it. A tug in his chest, gently urging him somewhere, and you know what, it's way better than what he was doing now, so he answered.

He felt the clothes he was swearing in that moment fade into away into the outfit he wore for his coronation. A suit, a crown made of the coldest ice from the Far Frozen, a cape made from the stars along with various little knickknacks made from various gems and a veil hung over his face.

He looked pretty good, if he says so himself. Though he didn't and still doesn't know the purpose of the veil.

He appeared in what looked like an event for a high society party, most likely filled with various rich people. He floated up and quickly looked over the people and released a sigh of relief that Vlad wasn't here, say what you will, but he doesn't fancy meeting with someone who's actively trying to seduce his dad.

He folded his arms behind his back, trying to imitate the imposing figure of his father from his place in the air, looking down at the cultists(?) below who summoned him.

"Who dares summon me." He stated, rule number one, statements hold power, questions do not. The cultist below fell to his knees, either out of devotion or fear, he didn't know.

"Oh, Prince of the infinite, we called you today for the sole purpose of serving this world to one of your standing, please let us be your servants and spare us when you plunge the world into ruin!" Ah, devotion, then. His eyes bore into the woman (from the sound of her voice) below, his silence working well to unnerve her and the other guests.

"Hm." The reward was already stated, but he neither wants too nor will take over the world. "Denied." It was short, swift, and to the point in his books, he thinks he's doing well acting out Pariah Dark!

"B-but my liege, the king-"

"What the king has been known for in the past, has nothing to do with me. You dare to assume something about me, lowly human." The human below him was actually fully blown shivering, now, slamming her head down onto the floor and shouting out a number of apologies.

Rule number two, do not take back requests you have already denied.

Ok, now he feels bad, that probably hurt a lot. But he's already come this far so-

"Is that the only reason you have called me, or do you require something else. Much of my time is not something you can afford." The woman was most undoubtedly about to say something, probably more apologies, or maybe something else, but the sounds of fighting reached the room and the doors slammed opened, the body of a cultist(?) flying through the air and the appearance of what were most likely heroes.

"Well?" He let that question slide, the cold around the room descending around the woman below as a bunch of other cultists tried to fight off the heroes.

The woman seemed hysterical with worry, most likely not wanting to go to jail, perhaps. She quickly took her head off the floor and tried to stand up, almost falling back to the ground but managing to find her footing. "M-my liege, please help us!"

He tilted his head. "And as to what, would you give me?"

"The sacrifice, yes! The sacrifice!" The woman quickly pointed below him, and only then, did Danny realize there was a boy bound below him, only to be met with a glare.

Danny hummed. Yes. That will do. "It shall be done."

Danny waved his hand, ice sprouting from the ground to force the heroes and cultists apart and then blasting a hole through the nearby wall and to the outside, a path of ice leading down to the ground. "Go." He commanded, the woman nodding her head quickly and calling to the others and disappearing outside, he then blocked off the hole with ice.

He then slowly floated downwards, besides the bound human, ignoring the shattering of ice and footfalls of no doubt the heroes trying to stop him from what he was doing. He leaned over the boy- about his age- and asked one question.

"Do you wish to become my consort?"

[fashionteahouse]

Heyy I hope you’re still taking requests, I want to ask if you can do a Paul Lahote x Reader when during a bonfire, a girl starts flirting with Paul, and the reader sees. Instead of getting mad, the reader gets really touchy and possessive with Paul right in front of the girl, and the rest of the pack is just watching and laughing maybe?

yes yes i’m still taking requests 🙂‍↕️💜 hope you enjoy :)

fine whine - paul x reader

You toss a soda can into the beach’s dispose bin. The night was young and people were dancing to the musical waves that filled the ambiance as the ocean waves formed.

This bonfire wasn’t too intimate so people were still able to come if they wanted a good time. Many only came because they found out that the quileute boys were in attendance. It was plainly obvious with their outfit choices, the way that they laughed extra hard at jokes that were seriously not that funny, and used any excuse to touch them.

At first, you were looking for Leah, you wanted to dance with her. Your eyes rake the environment to find the short haired woman but your eyes landed on someone that you haven’t seen before.

She was standing right next to Paul as he was trying to get a drink. She touched his arm and ran her fingers down with an unopened can in her other hand. He looked at his arm and over at her confused. She’s smiling extra hard and says something. You can tell she asked him to help her open his drink because she showed him her fresh nails and he took the can and halfheartedly open it.

You tried not to pay attention to it, but you were dying to keep an eye on this chick.

You did dance with Leah but you spot the same person in the proximity of Paul. You discreetly dance closer to where they are. You disguise it well and you’re able to hear a bit of what’s being said.

“I heard you’re a great dancer. You trying to dance with me?” you heard the girl say.

“Mmm not right now.” Paul says dismissively and starts to look around the beach.

She comes closer and bats her eyelashes at him, “This beach is beautiful. You think this would be a good place to..you know?” she giggles.

Paul looks at her, “To what?”

“You know,” she says moving even closer to him and runs her fingers through his hair, “have sex on the beach.”

Paul clears his throat and leans his head back to stop the touching. The girl didn’t get the memo.

You decide to come behind him and make your appearance seen from hugging him from behind. Paul seen what the girl was enviously looking at and he sees you and smile. Mostly relief.

“Hey baby.” you smile to him, you barely used the word but when you did use it, you knew you were always going to get a positive reaction.

He pulls you from behind him so you can face him and you had him whipped just as you thought you would. An ear to ear grin and him pulling you close to him to nip your neck softly. With Paul swaying you in his arms, Quil walks past and says, “Oh get a room you two.” This causes chuckles from others to creep in. The girl looking at you with such bitterness.

People are starting to have a seat at the logs, surrounding the fire. Paul is seated talking with Sam and you’re walking with Leah, taking your time. You spot the same girl from earlier, sporting a smile while walking towards him and eyeing the empty spot next to him. You start to walk faster, Leah notices and she’s rolling her eyes and laughing a bit. She doesn’t judge you too hard because she would’ve done the same.

You’re faster than the girl and plop down with entitlement. She’s standing in front of you in shock. She really thought she was able to score the seat.

You wrap your arm around him and place kisses on the area of his neck. You run your fingers through his hair, savoring the feeling, also showing off that you can touch his soft hair and she can’t.

She had no choice but to sit on a log across from you two. You take your time, cooing at Paul. He’s taking it all in, very satisfied with the extra attention you’re giving to him, completely oblivious to the girl who’s jealous of you two.

You decide to take it a bit further and snake your way onto his lap. You move back and your arm is still wrapped around him, you get very comfortable. The dirty looks from the girl really makes it all worth it.

“Just one day. One day without you two acting like you’re in a porno.” Embry says, which makes the circle belly laugh. They know it’s true. The display of possession was very possessive.

The girl gets up as the laughs have no plans on seeming to die down and removes herself from the picture.

[theglamorousferal]

Sorry if you already answered this but I can't stop thinking about DPxDC Samantha al Ghul and I just! Would love to hear your thoughts. Please tell me everything about this AU because I love it so much!

I mostly just have notes on it so far, I haven’t really come up with a plot quite yet, but here’s what I have so far!

Sam is the older twin, born 13 minutes before Damian.

While Damian was more skilled with the sword, Sam's skill lay in long range and poisons. She likes blow darts and meteor hammer, but when they learned guns, she excelled.

She spent a lot of time with the poison master learning about the different plants in the garden. This is where she gets her love of plants. She becomes a poison specialist.

They got separated on a mission at age 8 somewhere in North America when she let go of his hand and fell to a river below so he could pull himself up and survive.

Damian kept trying to get missions nearby to try and find her body, but was unsuccessful.

She got swept downstream and wandered onto a beach on a lake by a lake house that the Manson's were staying at.

They took her in and she went along with whatever they wanted because that's what you did in the League to escape punishment, especially if you weren't the heir.

Pamela was happy to have a little girl she could dress up and seemed to have impeccable manners.

Eventually she realized when they went to the Mason's home in Amity Park, that she had more freedom, that she wouldn't be punished for speaking up and wanting things for herself.

Sam became more comfortable asking for things from the Manson adults. She adored Ida, she was a wonderful adopted grandparent, much better than her bio one. Jeremy found out about her interest in plants and for her 10th birthday gifted her the greenhouse.

One day at after that birthday, she took off with her allowance that she had been hoarding and went to thrift and craft stores and locked herself in her room and figured out a wardrobe that she felt suited her.

Pamela was ecstatic that little Samikins was interested in fashion and helped her find ethically sourced outfits that she could wear to galas. She thought that all these dark clothes was just a phase and so allowed it, but became shocked to realize that it's just how she was going to be.

That school year, she met Danny and Tucker when she started at Casper Middle School. They ended up assigned together on an English assignment. They meet at Tucker's house to work on it and Sam ends up leading the group and they become close.

When Danny becomes Phantom, she trains him as best she can without revealing that she was raised by assassins. The boys don't really ask questions, they just think of Sam as tough and that she probably got into fights before she met them.

That's about all I've got for now. Again, I have ideas, but not really a plot to go with it. Feel free to take and run with it!

[fatbiatchforever]

Lies (Pt. 2)

Just wanna quickly say thanks to everyone who liked the previous one and all the support. Hope you guys like this one and feel better lol.

Taglist: @sapphirebarnes @mrsnikstan

"Bucky?"

You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the light seeping in from the hallway and let out a yawn.

Bucky smirked as he leaned against the door frame. "Someone's excited to see me."

"No, no, I am." You pulled on his wrist and opened the door wider to let him in. You chuckled as you turned back, noticing Bucky's eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "First time in your own home?"

Bucky's tense face softened into a shy smile. "Just missed the place."

You closed the distance between, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips softly against his. "Not me?"

Bucky's hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. His breath was warm against your face. "I could show you how much I missed you."

Leo's barks startled you, causing you to jump out of Bucky's hold. By the looks of it, Bucky was just as taken aback.

You walked over to your dog to soothe him. "Leo, it's okay, it's Buck." But Leo wasn’t having it; he lunged toward Bucky, his barking getting louder by the second. It stopped only when Bucky pushed him down and muffled his mouth.

"BUCKY!" you screamed, immediately trying to push him away from Leo. But what were you against a super soldier? Especially when Bucky’s eyes had that eerie focus that scared you. Leo's whimpers filled the apartment, along with your pleas. "Bucky, please, stop, you're hurting him."

As though Bucky snapped out of a trance, he stepped back, walking away from you and your dog. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that."

You gently lifted Leo's face, searching for any scratches or injuries that Bucky's metal arm might have caused. Leo got up and hid behind you, his whimpers breaking your heart. "Why would you do that, Bucky?"

Bucky gulped and looked down. "His barks were ringing in my ears."

You took a deep breath, balling your shaking hands into fists. "I don’t know, Leo never acts this way. He's always so happy to see you."

You noticed Leo walking to the side of the couch, where he usually hid when Bucky wanted to take him out for morning walks.

"You still shouldn't have done that," you hissed at Bucky.

Bucky nodded before walking to your room and closing the door behind him.

---

It had been a few days since Bucky returned. He seemed fine after a shower, almost like the incident had never happened. Leo stayed away from Bucky every chance he got, even though Bucky tried everything to get closer to him.

Still, it was so unlike him in every way. He was always quiet, but since he’d been back, he’d been even more silent. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him, he seemed frustrated, but the moment he noticed your gaze, his eyes would light up and his lips would curve into a smile. His usual kisses and lingering looks felt heavier than usual. 

You wanted to chalk it up to the aftereffects of a tough mission and him trying to hide it from you, but you needed to know what was going on. So you went to your main source.

"Sam!"

You hugged him, then stepped back to look at his outfit. "Why are you in a suit? I'm not pitching you another Captain America Lube Line."

Sam sighed. "And thank God for that. I need to be at an event in an hour, and they said I needed to look smart. When do I not look smart?"

"Uhm, probably when you agreed to a Captain America Lube Line. There were just so many options."

"I didn’t agree to it; my assistant did. How many times do I have to say it before you guys believe me?"

You laughed. "Thanks for coming."

Sam straightened up in his chair. "Of course. Why your office, though?"

"Only place I don’t have to worry about Cap fans or Bucky. Would’ve called, but I know better than to ask about missions over the phone."

"What did he do?"

You sighed. "Nothing, really. He had a freak-out with Leo, but after that, he's been fine. It's probably nothing, and I'm worried for no reason, but..."

"If he’s not okay, he’ll try his best to hide it from you," Sam interrupted.

You nodded.

"The mission was good. Everything went well, and he seemed fine."

You let out a shaky breath. "Okay. I was afraid you’d say that."

Concern etched onto Sam’s face. "Afraid?"

You looked up at him. "I know he looks fine and is acting fine too, but something feels off, Sam. It’s just frustrating that I can’t figure it out. It’s frustrating that Bucky seems to be putting on a show."

"Did you talk to him?"

You scoffed. "Obviously, but he said he’s fine. Everything’s good. He lost his house keys too."

"Y/N—"

"Sam, I know it could happen to anyone, but Bucky knows where his spare key is. When I asked him about the keys, he didn’t even mention thinking about getting the spare one."

Before you could spiral further, Sam stopped you. "He probably forgot about it. All of us forget things, that’s normal. Bucky does have hard times after missions. It could be that, or he’ll end up telling you what’s wrong in a day or two. You’ve just got to let him come to you."

You nodded. "Yeah, you’re right."

Sam sighed. "Listen, if you’re worried, I’ll talk to him tomorrow, see if anything seems weird to me."

You smiled. "Thank you, really."

"Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me for. I need to leave to look 'smart.'"

You laughed. "I’m sure you can pull it off."

"If you need me, you know you can—"

"Yep, yep, I know."

---

"Y/N?"

You turned to the voice at the door and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing?"

You wiped your hands on the side of your apron and walked toward him. "I made dinner for us. Thought I'd surprise you with a home date."

You laughed at Bucky's confused look before guiding him to his chair.

"I know things have been weird since you came back. I just want us to forget about the weirdness and go back to the way things were."

Bucky smiled before he pulled you to sit on his lap. "I want that too. I love you." Just as he leaned in for a kiss, you pulled away. "Sorry, the steak’s going to burn."

You rushed back to the stove and plated everything. Bucky opened a bottle of wine as you placed the plates on the table and sat across from him.

"This looks amazing, sweetheart," Bucky praised.

"Dig in!"

You watched as Bucky took his first bite and sighed in delight. "Mmm, so good."

You laughed. "You're so silly."

You both ate in silence, exchanging shy smiles each time one of you caught the other staring.

"You know, you still haven’t told me any stories from the mission. You always love telling me about them." You pouted.

Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours. "I'm sorry, must have slipped my mind. The mission was good. I got all the intel I needed. Hydra was a bitch as usual, surprise, surprise."

You laughed when Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Do you remember me talking about Triple S?" Bucky asked.

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, they’re trying to do something with the super soldier serum again."

You nodded and finished your glass of wine. "Want more?" you asked as you got up to get another bottle. "Nah, I’m fine."

You retrieved another bottle from the fridge and opened it. "You're a good Bucky."

Bucky laughed. "A good Bucky? You're already slurring your words, sweetheart. Should you be drinking more?"

You shook your head and pointed at him. "No, I meant what I said. You look just like him."

The drop in his expression sent a chill down your spine.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about." The change in his tone was alarming, but you knew you were getting close, so you prodded further.

You laughed. "I know Bucky better than I’ve known anyone my whole life. And if you really were him, you’d know that Bucky would never share mission details with me. Or call me sweetheart."

Your heart pounded as the man stood up, slamming his fists on the table, his eyes burning with anger.

"A plus on the looks, but you’re nothing like my Bucky."

He lunged toward you, his metal fingers wrapping around your neck. "What did you do?" The man who looked just like your husband asked, his tone so low it was easily masked under your heavy breaths. "Tell me where he is."

He laughed as he increased the pressure around your neck. "I know there are people coming, Y/N. Call. Them. Off."

"Tell me where Bucky is," you choked out, your fingers gripping his wrist, trying to focus on your breathing.

"You’re forgetting that I can snap your neck right now." He increased the pressure and pushed you up before slamming you into the wall. You shrieked in pain, feeling the blood trickling down your face. "Even if they find him, he’ll come back to find his wife long gone. Do you want that? Do you want your husband to find you torn apart limb for limb, huh?"

Before you could reply, you heard a crash, and you fell to the floor. You slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, barely able to see as blood clouded your vision, and all the noise around you made you dizzier.

Your body felt weak, your head pounding with pain. You struggled to keep your eyes open. You heard Sam’s voice. You heard him calling your name as if he were miles away, but you could see bits of him in your blurred vision.

Before you slipped into unconsciousness, all you could manage to say was, "We have to find Bucky."

[mxltifxnd0m]

all maroon ∗∗ s. winchester

summary: your day was long but at least sam's here to make you feel better

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, stanford sam winchester x gn afab! reader

word count: 2.7K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', mentions of periods, no mention of gender besides reader having a menstrual cycle, fluff, kissing, making out, kinda edited

a/n: this was purely a self indulgent fic from the shit show of a day i had yesterday and i wish it had turned out to be like this instead of what actually happened, title is a lyric from flume by bon iver

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

From the moment you woke up, you knew today was going to be a rough one. First, you had gotten your period as soon as you woke up to your alarm, and it leaked through your underwear, and your sheets were stained with your blood. You cursed under your breath and swiftly tore off your sheets and threw them in the washer before you quickly grabbed new underwear and the outfit that you had picked out the night before and took a quick shower. 

After you were showered and changed, you maybe had fifteen to twenty minutes to make your breakfast and pack lunch and dinner before you had to leave your apartment to find adequate parking and before your class started.

You lived about fifteen minutes away from Stanford since you couldn’t afford housing after your first year there and found an affordable apartment for yourself. Your mom and dad helped pay half of your rent while you worked on campus to help pay for the rest of the rent. You were at Stanford on a scholarship that covered tuition. You had financial aid to cover the rest, like books, school supplies, and groceries, and you put the rest of that money into your savings account. 

You left your apartment on time, but as soon as you hit the freeway, there was traffic that seemed to stretch on for miles. Apparently, there was construction being done in one of the lanes, and you spent thirty minutes in traffic before you made it to the parking lot with only minutes to spare before your class started. You lucked out on finding a parking spot quickly, and you all but sprinted to your class. It didn’t help that today was your busiest day, having two classes before your shift at the library and then one last class that went until nine o’clock at night. 

You were grateful that you had some gaps in between your classes, so you had time to eat lunch and do homework. But today, it seemed like God hated you because you didn’t have enough time to eat lunch since you had to type up a paper that you forgot you had assigned for the class you had tomorrow. You barely finished the paper before you were off to your next class. Once your second class was over, you made your way to the library for your shift, and you scarfed down your lunch, which was just a plain sandwich you had made that morning before you left. 

It felt like you couldn’t catch a break. It didn’t help that today was also the day that your boyfriend was busy with class, so you wouldn’t be able to see him until you were done with your shift. Even then, you would see him for a few minutes before you were whisked away to warm up your dinner and him to his dorm, where he’d study for the rest of the night. 

You were lucky that your shift today was slow, and you didn’t have much to do besides sit at the front desk and help students who needed assistance. Time flew by faster than you could even imagine as you were working on some homework from another class when someone rang the little bell at the front desk, making you look up from your laptop. 

Sam was looking as cute as ever, grinning at you as he gripped one of the straps on his shoulder. “Hey, I was wondering if you could help me look for something?” He said, a playful glint in his eyes. 

Sam’s smile was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Yeah, what were you looking for exactly?” You smirked, deciding to play along with him. 

Sam leaned down and rested his elbows on the tall check-in desk, getting to your eye level on the tall chair you were sitting on. “Yeah, I need help finding a way out of your eyes.” A cheeky smile grew on his face as he spoke. 

You pursed your lips before snorting loudly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you laughed, trying to keep down the noise in the quiet atmosphere of the library. You saw a slight red hue begin to grow on Sam’s cheeks as he snickered alongside you. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” You told him after you calmed down.

“Yeah, well I’m your dork.” 

You nodded. “That you are.” You leaned over the desk and pinched his cheek like a grandmother would her grandchild. “A really adorable one at that.” You cooed out before laughing lightly when he swatted your hand away and rubbed his reddened cheek. 

“I told you to stop doing that,” Sam grumbled out, acting like he was irked by it, but you could see a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Awe, but it’s so cute seeing you all flustered.” You pouted before planting a quick kiss on the cheek you just pinched. “All better now?” 

Sam ducked his head down as a bashful smile grew on his face. You grinned at his shyness; you found it so endearing even after the two of you had been dating for a couple of months. 

“So, you’re here early.” You say as you sit back in your chair. 

Sam looked back at you and swiped the hairs that were falling into his eyes. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you before your shift ended.” 

“Well,” You glanced down at the watch Sam was wearing. “My shift is officially over now. But what’s up?” You asked him as you started to clean up the front desk of some of the homework you were working on. 

“I just wanted to know if you’re going back to your parents for the weekend?” 

You shook your head as you zipped up your backpack. “No, I’m swamped with homework and studying, so I told them that I’d visit next weekend.” Even if you were craving a home-cooked meal from your mom and wanted to see your parents, you needed to finish the work that your professors had assigned. 

You slung your backpack over your shoulders and rounded the desk to stand in front of Sam. You took a glance at the clock hanging on the nearby wall and winced. 

“I hate to cut this short, but I have to go and warm up my food if I want to eat before my last class.” You internally groaned at the thought of being stuck in a two-and-a-half-hour lecture. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but you had pushed up on your toes and pecked Sam’s lips before leaving him, clocking out, and leaving the library. What you didn’t see as you left was Sam shaking his head and smiling to himself as he went further into the library to study for a bit before heading back to his dorm. 

After speeding into the dining hall to warm up the leftovers you had from last night in the microwaves, you sat down at a table to eat but also worked on your homework. You were periodically looking at the time on your laptop to make sure you had enough time to eat and make it to your class fifteen minutes before it started. Once you had finished your dinner and most of the homework you were working on, you made your way to your next class. 

It was a short walk from the dining hall to the classroom where the lecture was being held. You went into the room, and it was empty. You felt your eyebrows furrow. There are usually some people in here already. You thought to yourself as you decided to leave the classroom.

A flash of white caught your eye as the door to the classroom closed, and there was a notice that today’s class was canceled. You let out a sigh of relief, but you could feel irritation brewing in your chest as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.  

The urge to let out a frustrated scream was at an all-time high, but you managed to turn away from the sheet of paper that seemed to mock you and left the building. The cool September air hit your heated cheeks as you walked through the quad, trying to tamp down the irrational emotions that were bubbling up to the surface. 

As much as you liked that class was canceled, you were mentally prepared to be in the room for a good two hours. Getting that heads up fifteen minutes before class was supposed to start was just the cherry on top of your already long day. You had a feeling that if you checked your student email, your professor would have emailed the entire class to say that it was canceled. If you were going to be honest, you just wanted to be put out of your misery. 

You were so out of it as you walked through the quad, and your feet led you to Sam’s dorm building. You were able to slip in with no problem, as someone had held the door open for you as they left and made your way to Sam’s room.

You tiredly knocked on the door. It swung open, and you didn’t even bother greeting your boyfriend as you brushed past him and into his room. You slung off your backpack, landing haphazardly on the ground with a quiet thud. You kicked your shoes off before launching your tired body face-first onto his bed. 

You felt the bed dip as Sam sat on it and placed his hand on your head. “Uhh, not that I’m not happy that you’re here, but I thought you had class right now.” 

You groaned loudly into his pillow, the noise muffled by the fabric, and you sat up on his bed, his hand falling from your head as you moved. You adjusted yourself so you were sitting in the middle of his bed with your knees pulled to your chest as you looked at your slightly confused boyfriend. 

“It got canceled.” You grumbled out as you picked at the hole in your jeans. 

“Hence why you’re here?” Sam moved his hand from the bed and wrapped it around your ankle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the exposed skin. 

You nodded, and Sam hummed in response. “Long day?” He asked as he looked you over, seeing how exhausted you were. 

“You don’t even know half of it.” You huffed out before falling sideways on his bed, your head hitting his pillow. 

Sam frowned. He didn’t like seeing you upset. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I think if I talk about my day, I’ll need you to shoot me point blank.” 

Sam’s eyebrows raised high as he looked at you surprised. “Uh, I’m not going to do that. But talking about it might make you feel better.” 

You shook your head as you reached for his wrist and tugged him towards you. “I don’t wanna. Just want to cuddle right now.” 

Sam huffed a laugh through his nose as a small smile grew on his face. He let you tug him closer and climbed on the bed. Sam settled on the bed next to you as you kicked your feet out from their curled position and shuffled closer to him. Your legs intertwined with his as he wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Lift your head for me.” Sam murmured to you. 

You did as he said, and he wrapped his other around your head, cushioning it as you laid on his bicep and his hand rested on your back. Once you both were settled, you let out a contented sigh as you stared at Sam’s hazel eyes. Your face was so close to his that you felt his breath fan over your face. 

“Did I interrupt your studying?” You asked him with a quiet voice, realizing that you very much could have distracted him because of your moody attitude. 

He shook his head. “No, I had just finished when you came in.” Sam gave you a half smile before tipping his chin up to kiss your forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your day?” He muttered against your skin. 

“No, I’d much rather hear about yours.” 

Sam pulled back slightly and raised an eyebrow at you. “You sure?” 

You nodded. You felt marginally better from when you came in as you were in Sam’s arms. 

Sam’s expression was one of ‘okay then’ before he jumped into talking about his day, and you listened to your boyfriend with a slight smile on your face. You snuggled deep into his embrace and eventually moved your head to rest in the crook of his neck. 

“Are you still listening?” Sam asked as he felt you smile against his neck. 

“Mhm. Just keep talking.” 

Sam let out a small chuckle at your antics and continued to talk about what he had seen while walking to his last class of the day. You breathed in Sam’s comforting scent; the notes of citrus, mint, mahogany, and something that was just distinctly Sam filled your senses, and you could feel the tenseness leave your body. 

Sam was still talking, but you weren’t exactly listening, and you couldn’t resist kissing the small freckle on his neck. He suddenly stopped talking as you planted soft kisses on the warm skin of his neck. Sam let out a soft noise as you nipped at his pulse point, moved his hand that was on your back to your neck, and pulled away from you slightly. 

“What are you doing?” You could see the corners of Sam’s lips twitching as he asked you the question. 

“Kissing your neck.” You stated it as if it was obvious because it was. 

“What happened to listening to my day?”

“Can’t I multitask?” 

Sam laughed at the serious face you made as you said it, and you couldn’t help but break your serious facade and laugh along with him. Your foul mood was finally melting away. 

Sam rested his forehead against yours as he calmed down, staring deep into your eyes. “I love you.” He said softly. 

You couldn’t help the tender smile stretching across your lips. “I love you too.” 

Sam grinned before kissing you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into the warm feeling of Sam’s soft lips against yours. The hand that was on your neck had moved to cup your cheek, and his arm tightened around your waist as he deepened the kiss. The world faded around you as you got lost in Sam as he moved his lips against yours. Sam managed to push you on your back as he was slotted in between your legs. Your hands found themselves in his hair as the soft kiss turned into a passionate makeout. 

Sam consumed your senses as his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and you let him in with a little fight as his tongue played and swirled with yours. A slight noise that was akin to a whine left your lips as his lips left yours. Sam didn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours, but you realized that you were out of breath, and the two of you were panting against each other’s lips.

A blissful smile was on Sam’s face as he hovered over you. His lips were slightly swollen and slick with spit from the two of you kissing, and you couldn’t help but kiss him softly. Sam smiled against you before melting into your kiss. The kiss didn’t last long as you pulled away, Sam chasing your lips for a moment, making you let out a little giggle. Sam’s eyes were alight with joy as he heard your laugh. 

Sam couldn’t hold back and planted soft kisses on your forehead, nose, and cheeks before giving you a sweet but chaste kiss on your lips and pulling away from you. You all but sunk into the affection that Sam was showering you in, but then you started to pout when he moved from on top of you to next to you and pulled you into his side. 

He kissed your temple before the two of you settled in comfortable silence, content with just being by each other’s sides. You had no clue how long you guys stayed like that until you dozed off in Sam’s arms. The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was Sam's lips on your cheek and wrapping his arms tighter around you. 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

It Takes A Village

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Included characters: Sam, Rowena, Gabriel, Crowley, and Cas

Synopsis: you’re turning nine, and the whole gang has rolled up to celebrate

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, it’s super short

When Dean went to visit Lisa on Ben’s birthday, there were a lot of things he didn’t expect to happen. First of all, he didn’t expect she’d have a son. Second, he certainly didn’t expect that son to (quite possibly) be his. And third, he definitely didn’t expect to make another child. But that’s what happened, and here he is nine years later with a little girl that’s growing up way too fast.

“When did you get so big?” Dean surprises himself by speaking out loud what he’d been thinking. You turn in surprise, your brow arching.

“Dad? You’re not gonna get all weird on me, are you?”

Dean rolls his eyes, trying to wave off his moment of nostalgia.

“What? No, of course not. No, it’s just…I mean, it feels like you were turning one yesterday and now you’re—“

“Oh for heavens’ sake, Dean, leave the girl alone. She’s turning nine, not ninety.” The Scottish accent proceeded the red head of a certain witch as she entered the bunker.

“Auntie Row!” You yell, running to the witch and hugging her despite her protests that you would “wrinkle her outfit”.

“Yes yes, hello sweet thing,” Rowena greeted. “Happy Birthday.”

“Did someone have a birthday today?” Several eyes rolled at the introduction of a certain archangel. “Oh, that’s right, my favorite Winchester!”

“Uncle Gabe!” You greeted the archangel just as eagerly as you had the witch, only Gabriel returned your hug without complaint.

“Hey, gummy bear! You having a good birthday?” At your eager nod, he continued, “Well, it’s going to be even better now, because the real party is here!”

“Is that what you’re calling yourself now?” Castiel scoffed as he entered the room bearing an armload of presents. “And since when did I become the gift-bearer?”

“Since none of us wanted to carry in our things,” Rowena stated. “So thank you for volunteering.”

Cas grumbled something about not volunteering, and you giggled.

“Thanks, Uncle Cas!” You said.

“Now now, he’s not the only one helping out here. I mean, what’s a party without the cake?”

“Uncle Crowley!” Sam took the cake from Crowley’s hands just in time for you to slam into him. Crowley staggered for a moment before hugging you back, trying not to look too pleased at your warm greeting—he had a reputation to keep, after all.

“Hello, little demon,” Crowley greeted, and for once Dean bit his tongue—he’d already told Crowley a million times not to call his daughter a demon, but he didn’t want to start a fight on your birthday. “You didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

“Of course not,” you assured him. “Can we have cake now?”

“Cake before presents?” Rowena asked. “Now sweet thing, don’t you want to see what you’ve got?”

“Hey, if she wants cake it’s fine by me,” Dean spoke up, eyeing the mountain of frosting in front of him.

One wave of Crowley’s hand had the lights out, and a wave of Rowena’s had the candles on your cake lit.

As Dean sang, he looked around at the strange group singing with him. Somehow along the way, he had found coparents in his brother, an archangel, the king of hell, a fallen angel, and a witch.

It was an unusual crew to be sure, but he knew that everyone around him would do anything to protect his baby girl.

He could think of a million safer worlds for you to grow up in, but he knew that you wouldn’t pick a single one over this family.

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