#I AM HOLDING YOU BY THE HEAD AND PUTTING IT CLOSE TO THE EYES
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“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
next
#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did.#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#pjo hoo toa#nico di angelo#will solace#nico di angelo & will solace#solangelo#established solangelo#will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone#annabeth chase#nico di angelo & annabeth chase#my writing#fic#longpost
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of injury, death, human trafficking.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: It was the final showdown! And you died.
A/N: We begin to wrap everything up :(
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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You crawled back toward consciousness with the unsettling sensation of deja vu. Bright lights, pain in your abdomen, the sound of machines incessantly beeping. You tried to pull the covers over your head, but your left arm didn’t seem to want to move.
Well, that was new, anyway.
“The fuck am I in the hospital for now?” you murmured to yourself. “One miscarriage wasn’t bad enough?”
“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” came Tony’s shocked voice from your bedside. “One fucking what now?!”
You slowly opened your eyes. “Uh… hey, Boss. How’s it going?” You glanced over at Tony; he looked terrible, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”
Tony barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You had us all scared half to death, Kiddo. Pretty sure it took ten years off my life when word came in that Carthage fucking shot you. You know, you were clinically dead for seven whole minutes?! Longest seven minutes of my life– even longer than the Seven Minutes in “Heaven” I spent with Alice Seymour in 7th grade.” Tony shivered.
You blanched. “Seven minutes? Holy shit. I’m sorry, Tony.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing; you hadn’t shot yourself, after all, but you still felt awful for making him worry.
Tony came to sit alongside you on the bed. “Hey,” he began, taking a hold of your hand, “you have nothing to be sorry for. At all. You warned us from the beginning that Carthage was rotten. We should have done a better job of protecting you from her. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”
“It’s not your fault, Boss,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “None of us could have realized how far gone she was until it was too late. Where is she, anyway? On a one-way trip to The Raft, I hope?”
Tony looked away from you, toward the door of your room. “Not necessary,” he said. “She’s dead.”
You sat up quickly, wincing in pain at the tugging in your abdomen as you did so.
“Easy there, Kiddo,” Tony said, helping you get upright. “You had major abdominal surgery just a few days ago; you’re gonna pull your stitches.”
You let go of Tony’s hand to gingerly prod at your stomach, flinching as you came into contact with the heavy gauze that concealed your incision. Looking back up at him, you asked: “What do you mean, ‘she’s dead,’ Tony? What the fuck happened?”
Tony cleared his throat and poured you a cup of water, as if needing to busy his hands while he considered how to go about saying what he had to tell you. “We pulled up in the Quinjet probably only a few moments after you were shot,” he said, handing the cup to you. You took it gratefully, not realizing until that moment how parched you’d been. “Barnes was holding you in his arms, just sobbing, and… God, Pocket, there was so much blood. We thought you were done. I’ve never– I’ve never seen him like that before. He wouldn’t let go of you. Cap and Point Break had to hold him off so we could get you into the jet’s onboard Cradle; he just didn’t want to be apart from you. Kept screaming it was all his fault, he should be the one who was dead instead of you. Can’t say that, in the moment, I disagreed. We ended up having to sedate him.”
As Tony spoke, bits and flashes of the event came back to you– Bucky offering himself to Jade in exchange for your life, seeing his lips on hers, the sensation of Jade’s bullet ripping through your flesh.
“Once we got you stable, we went back out and found Carthage’s body. I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened, because Barnes still won’t talk about it, but, well, her neck was snapped.”
You blinked in shock. He’d killed her, for you. When it mattered, when it truly, truly mattered, he’d picked you over her. “Wow,” was all you could get out.
“Yeah,” Tony agreed softly.
“Where is he, Boss?” you asked, looking up at him desperately. You needed to see Bucky right away, needed to thank him for saving your life, to apologize.
“I’ve, uh… I’ve been kind of keeping him away,” Tony admitted reluctantly.
“Why?!” you asked, hurt and shocked. “Why would you do that, Tony?”
Tony looked at you defensively. “Because he admitted what he did to you, Pocket. How he hurt you, again, and again. All of it. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to let him come near you after everything he’d done. It was his fault you were in this mess to begin with. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him. If he had stayed away from her, been faithful to you from the beginning–”
“Tony,” you interrupted, putting a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Please trust me when I tell you that the situation is a lot more complicated than it appears from the outside, okay? I’ve… I’ve seen things, things that showed me how badly she manipulated him, got into his head. I’m not saying he’s blameless,” you were quick to add when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “He’s got a lot to make up for– I know that; I’m just saying that the party who bears the most responsibility is dead. I want to see him. Please. I owe him my life.”
Tony pursed his lips as he assessed you, mulling over your words. “It’s against my better judgment,” he finally said, “but it’s your call. I’ll send him in.” He stood up, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head.
“Tony, wait!” you said, before he could go too far. “The missing women. The strip club. What happened with them?”
“You did good, Kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Once we got you outta there, we were able to retrace your location to find the Hydra base where they were keeping you and get into their files– they kept records of every woman they sold, who they sold to, and where they went. SHIELD’s already picked up several of the buyers and identified the key players based on what you’ve been able to get us. We’ve been able to recover seven of the women so far, but Nat’s optimistic we can track down even more.”
You let out a shaky exhale. Seven women, saved from trafficking, with your help. “That’s amazing, Boss,” you said.
“And as for the club, Kozlov’s been arrested on a slew of charges; don’t anticipate he’ll be breathing fresh air anytime soon. And your buddy? Dimitri? He was real happy to start cooperating with us if it meant he didn’t go down with his boss.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief, a weight being lifted off your shoulders. They weren't going to be able to hurt anyone else, you thought to yourself. You’d help make sure of that. Maybe you could make your amends to Chloe, after all.
An idea came to you then. “Boss,” you began, “how much money’s in my swear jar now?”
Tony gave you a bemused look. “Kind of a weird time to be asking about that.” He pulled up his phone and touched the screen several times before letting out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned, Pocket. You certainly have quite the potty mouth– there’s almost half a mil in there!”
“I’ve sworn half a million times in the last twenty months?” you asked, incredulous.
“Do you doubt it?” Tony answered, grinning.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you said with a smile. “Do me a favor? Take that money and divide it up among the surviving women, okay? They’re gonna need resources for a fresh start.”
“That’s real generous of you, Kiddo,” Tony said, giving you a fond smile. “I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, well, I learned from the best,” you half-shrugged, grinning back at him. “Gotta pay it forward, right?”
Tony nodded, then turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” he said. “And I’ll send in Barnes."
“Thanks, Tony.”
“Oh, and if there’s one thing this entire ordeal’s taught me,” he said as he put his hand on the doorknob, “it’s that life is short. I’m gonna ask Pep to marry me.”
“Tony!” you exclaimed, delight coursing through you. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”
Tony smiled at you. “Be flattered, kiddo. You’re number two to know.” With a wink, he was out the door.
You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. Tony Fucking Stark was finally settling down. You honestly thought you’d never live to see the day. Fuck, you almost hadn’t. You felt a dull ache in your left arm. It had been strapped down in a sling to your torso, preventing you from moving it, and you had the sinking suspicion there were probably pins holding the fracture in place. You were certainly in line for a long road to recovery.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Warm Blood
Gale / Astarion x F! Tav
(Warm Water part 3, can be read alone)
18+ miscommunication, misplaced anger, sex as a tool, yearning, confessed feelings, urgent sex, restraint, dom Gale, oral (f!), fingering (f!), masturbation (m!), marking, a little silliness
With a sanguine competitor now circling with the large druid, Gale can no longer put off his advances...
Masterlist, Prev Chapter
-
She hissed gently as he readjusted his hold. He would have to find a new vein it seemed. Even with him closing her wounds, their nightly feeding sessions left her skin tender to touch.
Her generosity staggered him. His body feeling far better in these last few weeks than it had in centuries. Lithe and strong. The bone aching cold he had resigned himself to thawed by her warm blood, her molten body pressed against his when he fed. Her rich blood nourishing him to his core.
Though, their arrangement made him uncomfortable on a fundamental level. She not only didn't gain anything in this exchange, she actively lost something. It was too unbalanced, and he'd be a fool if he thought the other shoe wasn't poised to drop. She would want something in return eventually, and there was only one thing he could offer.
Taking slow mouthfuls, he wound his hands around her waist. Kneading the flesh languidly.
It had baffled him when she had politely turned him down at the tiefling party. She was so handsy and touch driven, he was sure seducing her would have been rather easy. Though, there was still time. As far as he could tell she wasn't tied to anyone yet, though there were several circling already.
He slid the movements of his mouth from purely practical to sensual. Kissing and suckling gently as he drank.
She hummed, stroking his hair through her fingers.
Finding that encouraging, he slid one hand around her hip. The other rising to her ribcage, heading north.
She froze then. "Astarion, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" He purred, licking her wound closed with far more tongue than needed. Dragging a flat line up her neck. "Tasting you, darling."
"Why?" Her tone genuinely curious.
He scoffed, pulling back. "What do you mean why? You're beautiful."
"I am, but that doesn't answer my question."
Gods she was aggravating. Heat rose to his neck, her blood fueling the rush.
"Is it so unbelievable that I would want you? You must know your company is highly sought after." He tried for more compliments to loosen her up. But no dice.
"Huh, interesting." She narrowed her eyes slightly at him, lips pursing in thought. "So it's out of obligation."
He threw his hands up, eyes rising to the roof of his tent. His frustration breaking his mask.
"Of course it's out of obligation!"
Far too late, he realized what he said. Eyes lowering to hers slowly. Anxiety throttling his spine.
She only tilted her head at him slightly.
"It's okay. You don't have to, Astarion." She held her hand palm up. "Are you still hungry?"
He blinked at her. Anger flaring through him again. Though for what he couldn't pinpoint.
"So I just drink you dry every night, and you get nothing in return?" He retorted.
"How do you figure I get nothing out of this?" She asked in that aggravating curious tone, not matching his anger at all.
"Gods, don't give me that." His voice rose, standing and starting to pace. "That's not how the world works! There is give and take, and all I've done is take!"
She watched him continue to tirade quietly, appearing to just be listening. Somehow, that made him more heated.
Soon he slowed, his rant winding down. She watched patiently, open and waiting for him.
"Are you ready to hear what I think?" The question genuine and not rhetorical.
He huffed, breath still hard from his efforts.
"Fine. What?" He sniped, aware that he was being childish but too wound up to stop.
"I think you and I have a lot more in common than you realize, and I think I understand more than you give me credit for."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. "When all you get from people is pain, that's what you come to find in them. Even when it's not there. And when you don't get it, it's frightening. Yes?"
The air vanished from his lungs. Her eyebrows raised slightly, seeing that she had gotten through to him.
"In the Underdark, the only hand that reached for you was painful." She pulled up her sleeve, the tapestry of scars criss-crossing her dark skin revealed to him. "So that's what you naturally associate touch with. Anger. Fear of the flesh is survival."
She smoothed her fingers in a self soothing arc across the deep tissue. "You think I seek out touch because I'm naive, or even easy."
She looked up at him, those topaz eyes cutting straight through him. "But I know pain, Astarion. Intimately. I understand deeply why you have come to where you are, why you need to push others away. It's safe that way, yeah?"
He could only nod.
"You're right. It is safer." She conceded, smiling. Pulling her sleeve down. "Can't fault you for that. But I'm greedy, I want more than just safe. And touch is so much more than pain when you let it be."
His jaw clenched, biting back the lump that had risen in his throat. Wanting to retort, but finding no words that could validate him.
His hand shot forward, pulling her into him. Her soft lips sliding against his. Pulsing out his frustration into her plush mouth, needing so much more than he had taken.
She kissed him back tenderly, saying her piece. Not falling into his angry pit for a moment. Her soft touch in clear defiance to his inciting.
He pulled away, hearing footsteps approaching.
"Everything alright? I heard shouting." Gale lifted the flap of his tent. Making eye contact with her punctured throat with clear distaste.
"It's okay, thank you for checking." She responded warmly.
Astarion glared at him over her shoulder, the wizard giving him an equally leveling look.
"I think we could use some space, actually." She said impartially, turning to him. "Are you okay to stop for the night? I could give you a few bottles."
He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I think I can manage not withering away without this copious doting, darling."
She patted his arm, nodding. "I'll bring the bottles."
"Has anyone ever told you you're infuriating?"
She only smiled at him, turning to take Gale's upturned hand. Rising out of his tent. The flap falling closed on him alone again.
He flopped face down, groaning.
-
After she quietly dropped off two bottles of blood at the entertance to the crimson tent, Gale took her small warm hand in his. Leading her to the view overlooking the edge of the city. They were so close, the precipice at their fingertips.
She sighed wistfully, pulling him to sit with her on the grass.
"Baldur's Gate." She mused dreamily. "I wonder if it's as awful as I've heard."
He barked out a laugh. "Oh, I'm sure it's just atrocious. We're sure to hate it."
She laughed too, then gave a little thoughtful wince. "Ooh, Halsin is definitely going to hate it."
He was sure the druid was a fine person, but given his leanings, Gale was less concerned.
"Well, he can always stay outside. Who knows how much room our new camp will have anyway..."
She rolled her eyes at him, knocking her knee against his.
He caught her knee in his hand before she could pull it back. Rubbing his thumb in slow circles.
She slid up flush to him easily, leaning her head into the curve his shoulder.
"How are you feeling?" She whispered, the backs of her knuckles gently knocking on his chest.
"Ah, that." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed at her concern. "Oh, you know. Heartache is nothing new to me."
She leaned her head back and sighed dramatically at his joke, the edge of a smile on her lips.
"Just awful. I'm never asking again." She shook her head in solemn jest.
"Oh, please do. The healing touch of your disdain is tantamount to mending my heart."
He paused then, nerves fraying. The smell of his lavender in her hair bolstering him in a soft smile.
"I have been meaning to speak to you. About matters of the heart."
She turned to him, topaz eyes bright in the moonlight. Thick spirals of dark hair cascading down her back. Gods, she was so beautiful it made him dizzy.
He turned his gaze to the ground, picking up a smooth stone and turning it over in his palm. Having something to touch always helped him think.
"I've come to fancy you. Quite a lot. Though this is not the proper way I would have preferred to court you. In the dirt and blood." He sighed, wishing things were different.
"You must know you're... you're very special to me. I hope I'm special to you too, but if I'm misguided just say the word and I'll back off."
The words tumbled out of him, a vexing blush rising to his cheeks. Feeling like a school boy confessing a crush.
Her body shifted, standing on knees. In one fluid motion she hooked her leg around and straddled his lap. Bringing his eyes to hers in a hand tenderly cupping his face.
His breath was entirely taken, dropping the stone he had been holding with a soft thunk.
"Took you long enough." She teased, her dimpled smile making his heart rush.
"I fancy you too, Gale. And I'd like to show you that, if you'll let me." She hushed, her body heat radiating into his torso.
He could only nod, all blood rushing away from unimportant higher functions. Hands gripping her wide hips in a groan, the sensation far better than he ever could have imagined.
Her hands wound into his hair, pushing a heady kiss into him with a little whimper.
His eyes rolled up into his lids, just the kiss sending him under. Hand rising to the small of her back. Her lips pulsing into his with slick need. Tongue dancing along the seam of his lips in question.
He opened happily, a hungry moan leaving him when their tongues twisted. Both hands palming her ass greedily. The ample globes of flesh kneading in his fingers, her smothered mewl sending impossibly more blood to his already straining cock.
All of her touch spun around him in a lustful haze, far too much and not nearly enough.
He pulled his shirt over his head in a whip, only leaving her lips for a single moment. Her hands finding his trousers, palming him over his sleep pants.
"Fuck," He hissed, it felt too good already. Precum pooling far too soon for his liking. His body touch starved and hungrier than it had any right to be. Trying to force the tunnel vision of promised release open again.
He pushed forward, twisting her down onto her back. His hands rising under her sleep shirt to caress the unbearably soft curve of her waist.
"By the Weave..." He muttered, her body far too intoxicating. Cock throbbing insistently.
He felt completely lost, head nothing but liquid desire. Leaning down to kiss sloppily along her waist. Pushing her shirt up to her clavicle.
She squirmed under him, breath fast pants. Pulling his hair back in a fist, watching him with lust blown eyes and kiss swollen lips.
Gods, how was he already close. He couldn't be this down bad, could he?
Oh who was he kidding, of course he was.
He pulled her bralette down, her breasts springing free. A growl vibrated in his chest at the sight, gripping the front of the band, pulling it down onto her ribs.
He pulled back to slip her leggings off of her, revealing her arching hips, hip bones sliding underneath. Thighs wide and plush, dipping into her hips. Her legs falling back open, the curve of her ass teasing under her. Slick pooling from her gleaming cunt.
"Oh, come on..." He huffed, just the sight stroking down his cock in a rush. "That's not fair."
"You're one to talk. Why do you look like that wizard?" She scoffed. "All those muscles, for what? Seducing poor quivering maidens in the grass..."
"Oh, we'll get to the quivering." He smiled dangerously, leaning down to lick a stripe up her hip bone.
She whined, arching her hips up more into his mouth. The heat coming off of her cunt soaking his clavicle.
Gods below and above spare him.
Trailing his mouth down, his cock twitched in anticipation. His practiced mouth about to be seated where it longed to be. Where it belonged.
He breathed in a deep pull of her, nose nuzzling into her curls. Gods, she was divine. Her sweet musk making his mouth salivate. Truly he had been deprived before this moment.
Her hips starting rolling impatiently, and he pushed a forceful hand flat to her lower belly in response. No, he was going to savor this.
She moaned under his hold, bringing a smile to his lips. So she liked it like that...
He breathed a warm wave of air on her cunt, watching it twitch in what he knew was a clench in a devious smile.
"You bastard..." She groaned, the need apparent in her voice sending a shiver down his back.
"Language..." He chuckled. The lack of touch making her writhe deliciously under his hold.
"I'll show you language." She scoffed.
Grabbing both sides of his face she pulled his eyes up to hers.
"Bite me, choke me. Hold me down and spit in my mouth. Tongue fuck me like a whore, wizard."
His pelvis clenched, eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Hand clawing into her thigh.
"Oh Gods." He groaned, finally diving on her cunt.
He lapped his tongue in undulating waves, slurping her clit into his lips.
"Fuck!" She cried out, gripping his hair hard in her fist.
He suckled down hard, suctioning his lips around the bundle. Tongue pulsing wet curved pulls. Hands keeping her thighs forced open as they tried to clamp shut around his head.
Her high keening whines melded beautifully with the slurping sounds of his hungry mouth.
Her hips bucked helplessly against his hands, ribs arching up. Only the underside of her jaw visible above him.
He smiled into her cunt, releasing one thigh and pushing his forearm into the apex of her thighs. A bar holding her open still, his two fingers sliding slowly into her. Humming into her clit in pleasure, fingers spreading eagerly into the velvet slick pouring up into his palm.
Her head shot up, staring down at him almost in disbelief. Hand bracing her at her side.
When he began strong and slow thrusts of his fingers, her head fell back sharply. Voice only mewling calls. Thoroughly tamed, warm and pliant under his devotion.
He knew this was as close to the heavens as he had ever gotten. Harnessing all of his senses to bottle this into his everlasting memory. Though he imagined it would be very hard to forget.
He curved his fingers up, stroking that ridged bump in hard thrusts. Clamping down on her clit again, lapping his tongue in hollow pulls, like slurping soup.
"Oh Gods," She whined.
He groaned hot into her, chasing her hips up as they tried to squirm away. Free hand grabbing her waist and pulling her back down hard. He was not even close to done.
Fingers arcing into her in vicious thrusts, unrestrained. He wrenched his head quickly side to side, sucking down in popping wet pulses of his lips.
She cried out, her pelvis tremoring hard. Unable to hold her thighs open anymore as they arched up and clenched down around his head. Muffling around his ears. Cunt clenching in hard flutters around his fingers. He looked up, drinking in her arching ribcage and scrambling hands. A strike of fluid striking his jaw. Sending his eyes up into his skull.
His hips fucked into the ground, unable to still them any longer. Removing his fingers to slurp her cum into his mouth uninhibited. Pushing out of her in creamy pulses. Greedily lapping all he could catch, rubbing into her clit to encourage more.
She let out indignant pleading whines, but he wasn't done yet. His cunt slicked fingers gripping around his cock. Drinking her cum as he fucked into his fist.
Only two or three thrusts and he was gone, wrenching ropes up his belly. Pelvis clenching in vicious pulses, shooting pleasure through his body in teeth gritting waves. The endless ache behind his navel firing out in tortuous strikes. Hand bracing next to her hip in the dirt desperately.
His mouth slowed then stopped, panting hard into her thigh. Resting his head into the seam of her hip, thoroughly spent.
"That good huh?" She teased, her own breath telling of equal pleasure.
Head still down, he held his finger up in a signal to give him a minute.
She giggled, thoroughly pleased. "My, my, Gale at a loss for words. Wait until camp hears about this..."
He looked up, glaring at her in jest. "Don't you dare."
She smiled wide. "Hmm, I dont know... It's a pretty monumental thing to go unnoted. It would be a shame to keep to myself."
He trailed up her body, balancing on elbows above her. She gave him a pout, eyes wide in mock pleading.
"How else is everyone suppose to know I'm yours?"
His cock stirred again, huffing out a groan.
"Tav, you're killing me." He admonished. She only bit her lip in a smile at him.
"Well, if you don't want me telling everyone, you better leave your mark on me." She purred, turning her chin up. Eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Oh, that I can do." He smiled, angling his head down to her neck. Pulling the soft flesh between his teeth.
She laughed then moaned, that little whimper he was already addicted to in her throat again.
Oh, it was hopeless. They were going to be here all night.
~
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~
#back once again with dom gale propaganda and ill never be sorry#gale x tav#astarion x tav#gale smut#bg3 smut#screenshots by @cybersdead and @dailygale#lyrics from: gods country - ethel cain
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adam x dom!reader where he makes a sexist, misogynistic comment about you so you have to teach him a lesson and decided to make him suck your strap and maybe he cums from it? untouched and truly pathetic
A/n thanks for the request lovely! I hope you enjoyy sorry it took a little while!
Warnings: dubious consent but only lightly - she’s quite forceful but he does agree to it. Slapping, strap sucking (obviously), adam is a dick at the start, let me know if i missed anything!!
“Look it’s just a fact, and I should know as the original dick.” He winks, “Women are naturally submissive. That’s how God made them.” I snort at his incredibly stupid logic.
“Remind me again why your first wife left you?” I sneer at him, watching as he now breaks eye contact and stutters over his words searching for a response. Ever since he came to hell he’s been acting like an entitled brat and I’ve had enough. I’ve made more entitled men than him apologise for their ignorance and Adam is not going to be an exception.
That same day Charlie treats everyone at the hotel to a night out, letting me and angel dust take the lead to take care of everyone since we know the scene a bit better than… well… all of them. Angel enlists Husks’ help in watching over Nifty and I take care of Adam. Which makes my plans a lot easier.
I have a couple shots, letting myself loosen up a little, I watch Adam do the same. I don’t drink much though, and don’t let Adam either, not wanting to be too out of it tonight. For once I let Adam flirt with me, biting my tongue and holding back the roll of my eyes as he spouts nonsense.
I start getting flirtatious back, even a little touchy, and I have to admit to myself that I am enjoying it. After a little while of back and forth I indicate towards the sex room, not waiting for an answer, and pick up my bag before walking into the room. I hear him flail behind me to keep up, almost like a puppy.
He shuts the door and before he has time to make any stupid remarks (which I can see on his even more stupid face that he’s about to) I reach into my bag and pull out my strap on, effectively stopping any movement from him. His mouth is agape for a moment but he seems to try and form some words as his mouth opens and closes periodically. “I would prefer if you’d stay silent.” I say, as calm and cooly as I can. He seems to listen because his mouth clamps shut and he nods. Maybe this would be easier than I thought. “Good.” I say.
I place my bag down, leaving just the strap on in my hands now, investigating it as if I hadn’t seen it many times before. “I’ve made a decision.” I decide to start with, barely grabbing his attention away from the silicone cock in my hand. “You need to be taught a lesson.” His head shoots up to look at me dead in the eyes, though I’m not sure whether he looks more scared or aroused. “Ever since you came here you’ve been acting like a teenage boy and treating me, and everyone else here like shit. I won’t put up with it.” I watch his throat bob and a sick pleasure courses through me. “I’ve taken it upon myself to show you how things work around here, and how things are going to work here,” I indicate towards the two of us, “from now on.”
His face looks completely flushed, and I don’t have to look for long to see how hard he is under his clothes. I scoff and walk towards him, “How does that sound whore?” I whisper cruelly up at him, watching as he nods enthusiastically without hesitation, almost as if he’s lost his own sense of self-control. “Use your words.” I say sternly.
“Please.” He breathes out pathetically, making me smirk as he shudders.
I tell him to strip himself out of all of his clothes, which he does rapidly, as I put the strap on myself. Once he stands completely naked in front of me I look at him properly. I can feel him looking at me too. “Good. Now, you are going to get onto your fucking knees and suck my strap until I decide you’ve done enough.”
I watch as he kneels down in front of me, not allowing him to break eye contact. He shuffles forwards until he’s close to me, and I see him hesitate. “Well? What are you waiting for?” His throat bobs for a moment before he moves his head forward, taking the tip into his mouth. He sucks on it gently and looks up at me, almost like he wants me approval. I roll my eyes, “You’re pathetic. Surely you know how to suck cock properly? Or should I find some other whore who knows how to actually do it?”
That seems to spur him on as his widens his mouth to take more of it, filling his mouth. Now he’s sucking my cock like he means it. Like he’s been waiting for this. Maybe he has. I smirk as he closes his eyes and brings a hand up to rub the base of the cock that he can’t fit it into his mouth. I can see that he’s rutting against the carpet as he does, “God you like this don’t you? I bet you’ve fantasised about being used as a cockwhore every day of your pathetic life.” This only makes him moan as he ruts his hips faster, chasing a release.
He tries to take my cock further down his throat but he ends up choking on it, though that doesn’t stop him. I reach my hand forward and grab by his hair, tight. “Relax your throat.” He does, staring up at me, and I slowly push his head further into my cock, watching it go further. Tears pool out of his eyes and fuck he looks amazing like this.
I reach into my pocket with my other hand and turn the camera on. As I point the camera towards him and press record, I see his hips get faster and rougher as he looks straight at the camera. “You are going to make the best fucktoy Adam sweetie. So fucking easy, just begging to be used by me.” His eyes roll back as he desperately tries to keep sucking on my cock as his hips stutter and I can see that he’s finished.
I keep recording as I slide my cock out of his throat and kneel down to be eye level with him. He’s panting but he still meets my eyes. I bring my hand up to hold his chin gently before I let go to bring my hand to slap his cheek. Hard. “Next time, you fucking ask before you cum. You’re worthless and if you can’t even control yourself then I have no use for you.” I practically growl out at him.
“Y-yes miss.” He stutters out just barely. I stroke his cheek softly and smile at him.
“See isn’t this so much better? I much prefer you like this, and I bet all our friends back at the hotel will too.” He nods at me, his mouth gaped open as I run my hands through his hair. “Good boy.”
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messy (spencer reid)
summary: what was supposed to be a romantic date turned into a messy mix of glitter, paper, and tiredness
genre: pure fluff
cw!: unless your afraid of glitter i don’t think there are any
a/n: head over heels for this man, i need more requests!! (this was not requested i made this 5 minutes ago)
“spencer i’m not sure we’re doing this right” you giggle, waving your hand frantically in an attempt to unstick the paper glued to the palm of your hand. you can’t even recall how it got there. meanwhile, spencer had glitter on his cheekbones from trying to tuck his hair behind his ears, you were delighted to fix that reoccurring problem by putting his hair into a little ponytail.
“but they make it look so easy” he laughs, the dry glue clung onto his fingers, something that would easily set a germaphobe off. he easily bent the rules with you.
in an attempt to have a romantic date, you had bought a scrapbook kit online. to your surprise, it came with about 100 different items, ranging from colourful papers, stickers, glitter, and other nightmares hid in pretty pink plastic. it thankfully came with a little booklet of instructions. to your dismay, the instructions came in french. the only language spencer fell victim to. oh but wait! you had taken french classes in high school! yeah, you ended up using google translate.
“okay we could stick this photo here…” you held between your sticky fingers a polaroid of you kissing spencer on the cheek, while spencer looked at you with a grin. it was a fond memory of when you had gone to the pier with him and the team. one of the many group dates you had after spencer introduced you to the them.
“no. nuh uh. we are not ruining that photo by putting it into this- death trap!” he quickly warned, hissing as he tried to grab the picture, instead just getting it even more sticky. both of you were holding onto the photo, fingers stuck. you both shared a look before bursting out in laughter, as opposed to crying about the messed you had made and the state of your faces and hands.
after safely peeling the picture from both your hands, you both fell onto the couch with a sigh. curling next to spencer and resting your head on the crook of his neck, not minding the purple glitter in his hair than would later be such a pain to get out of the couch.
“i love you, even if you’re awful at scrapbooking” you gently placed a kiss to his jaw, his hand coming up to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing a soft kiss to the bridge of your nose.
“well maybe if you’d paid attention in your french classes…” you could hear the grin in his voice. you looked up at him, squinting, faking a death glare before breaking and laughing once again. you felt spencer’s laughter as you placed your head on his chest.
you sighed before closing your eyes. spencer pulled back the hair on your face, and pulled you into a more comfortable position where your neck health wouldn’t be jeopardized. he unbuttoned the sleeves of your shirt and pulled them down, knowing how uncomfortable it made you. he figured the cleaning up of everything could be done later, for now, he takes in your mesmerizing face, finding new spots and marks to adore, tracing your lips with his finger before pressing a kiss to them. whispering goodnight as he drifted off, taking a mental note to become better at scrapbooking for you.
a/n: i am going to off myself i love this man sm
#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds
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one hell of a story
For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen
Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field.
Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.
read on ao3 or under the cut
“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”
----
Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face.
“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that.
“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks.
“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!”
“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later.
“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession.
“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays.
Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?”
“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares.
Then he focuses on saving their lives.
The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction.
He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough.
All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark.
“Tommy? Can you hear me?”
“I think he’s coming to!”
“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!”
When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.
“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming.
“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—
Taylor.
He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face.
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man.
He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”
“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”
“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face.
As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger.
Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…
“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?”
Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages.
“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes.
“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear.
Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.
“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.
The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself.
“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?”
Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?”
There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!”
All of which are ignored by both of them.
Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing.
“I think I just might,” Evan agrees.
“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”
“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…”
“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?”
“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.”
“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully.
“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan?
“118.”
With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster.
“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.
“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue.
And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect.
(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”)
#bucktommy#kinley#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 on abc#bucktommyweekend#buck x tommy#tevan#i hate tagging that pls stop making me#911#911 fic#bucktommy fic#my writing
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Sugar & Violence
Podrick Payne x reader
+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl
previous chapter
Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.
CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.
Word Count: 5125
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily.
“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.
“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair.
You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.”
“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.
“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort.
“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup.
“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,
“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting
“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.”
“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”
“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.
“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.
she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.
“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it.
“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink.
Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.
It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you.
He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care.
“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive.
“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog.
It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration.
“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin
“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners.
“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?”
“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.
“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,
You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.
“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.
You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.”
As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.
“You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice.
“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry.
You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room.
“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist.
“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall.
“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly.
He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door.
He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open.
He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you.
He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was.
As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did.
As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had.
You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand.
You trailed the scar with your finger tip.
“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.
“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.
“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.
“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.
“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.
“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,
“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.
“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.
“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down
“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly
“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long.
“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.
“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.
“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“How do you think I was seducing you?”
“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.
“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…”
He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered.
“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently.
“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.
“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up.
“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.”
“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away. “How we first met, tell me that.”
“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”
“And I spit in it.”
“He deserved it.”
“I lied to him, and your lord.”
“Not to me.”
Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his.
“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering.
“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.”
He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling
“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”
Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed.
“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.
“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.
“For what?”
“I should have asked you first,”
“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently.
You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life.
You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt.
What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you.
But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how.
“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless.
“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.
“No,”
“But you said-”
“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.
“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.
“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness.
As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you.
You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him.
As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?”
He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar.
“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.
“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.
You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?”
“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic.
“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him.
“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him.
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,
He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper.
His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.
When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together.
Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him,
“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again.
One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return.
“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered
“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.”
He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion.
You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out,
“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.
“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.”
Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips.
You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back.
He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts.
You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you.
Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit.
“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes.
“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure.
his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked.
He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit.
It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said.
He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.”
you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure
He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you.
The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.
You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips.
“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control.
His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you.
“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers,
“My lady?” he said into your lips,
“Call me my name,” you said into his,
“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips.
You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,”
He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,”
You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.”
Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face.
As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect.
“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss.
As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body.
He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded.
“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you.
You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder.
You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.
The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.
All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before.
He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand.
His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles.
He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours.
“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more.
You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.
“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.”
His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you.
You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper.
“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?”
You nodded, pouting a little.
“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱
After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed.
He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed.
He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’
“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly.
“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?”
“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle.
“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly,
He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
When you woke up, you were alone.
You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties.
Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself.
When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes.
“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze.
“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,
“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back.
“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.”
You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table.
“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,
You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."
“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?”
“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.”
Podrick held back a smile at your strength.
“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.
“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut.
Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.
Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again.
“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded
“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.
Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes.
“You told them?” You asked with venom.
“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear.
It made you smile.
“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.
“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him
“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.
“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.”
“I don’t think it could.”
It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.
You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.
NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!
TAG LIST:
@ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart
#podrick#podrick payne#podrick x reader#podrick x you#podrick x y/n#podrick payne x reader#podrick payne x you#podrick payne x y/n#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones#got fanfic#got fic#got#podrick headcanons#smut#got smut#got x reader#bronn#ser bronn of the blackwater#tyrion lannister#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire
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steve finding out reader is expecting twins and being utterly panicked, like he needs to go see robin and eddie to talk him down because he is freaking out
Ahhhhhh I love this!!! (you know the TikTok sound 'oh my goodness I love this questiionnnnn, I think-' yeah thats me right now).
857 words cw: swearing, loser!Steve trying to get his groove back,
An ice pack was pressed to his head, Robin's chipped nail polish covered fingers holding it in place. She was mumbling something, freaking out as she stumbled over her panic, 'maybe we should call 911'.
Eddie was laughing, cold beer in one hand as he took in the sight before him. Robin taking deep breaths to calm herself down, interchangeably pressing the ice to herself and Steve, while he groaned every time it was taken away from him. A dark bruise was forming on his forehead from where he passed out in your living room.
"Isn't this the shit you've always been talking about?" Eddie asked, taking a swig of his drink.
Steve closed his eyes, a deep breath leaving him. Robin yelped, shaking his shoulder.
"Stay awake, Steve!" She hurried, squatting in front of him. Steve peeked open an eye, rolling it at her.
"I'm fine, Robin," he said, wincing at the pressure he was feeling. "Yes and no, yes because I love her and I want a soccer team-"
"Damn army at that."
"Eddie. Please," He continued, taking the pack from Robin's fingers. "I'm just going to be fucking terrible at it."
"Steve, those damn kids love you," she supplied, taking his wrist in her hand, presumably to check his vitals. "You run your own babysitting service practically, and you're amazing at it, hey, you might get your ass kicked every now and then, but they're all alive."
"Not helping," he winced, snatching his wrist from her. Eddie leaned forward in his chair, handing a lit cigarette towards the younger man. Steve would normally complain about him smoking indoors, but for right now, it was everything he needed.
"She's right, Steve," he said, watching as Steve took a long drag, shoulders relaxing at the hit. "Those kids will swear up and down that you're the best god damn thing to happen to them, whether you like it or not. You're made for this."
Steve shook his head, coughing as the hit went down the wrong pipe. "No, no, no. Man, I couldn't even get into college, and here I am, working at a movie store, with twins! Twins! Two babies! On their way!"
Eddie laughed at his urgency, reclining as he looked up at the ceiling of the Harrington home. He took a look around, humming as he found it spacious.
"I think a crib will fit perfectly right there," he pointed towards a corner, closing one eye as he envisioned it. Steve whined, sinking into the couch even further.
"My dad's going to kill me," he muttered, putting the palms of his hands over his eyes. He was never a religious man, but in this moment, he felt God in his presence. "Fuck, what if I'm like my dad? I'm going to be so shit at this, she's gonna leave me. Oh my God, I'm going to be a single dad."
"Steve!" Robin grabbed his shoulders, shaking them as he lolled his head to look at her. "Snap out of it, okay?"
Steve nodded, his bottom lip jutting out as he moped. His eyes were wide, watering slightly as he envisioned the next few months, no years, decades of his life changing.
"You're going to be the best god damn dad out there, alright? You may be a Harrington, but you're not gonna be like him," Robin held eye contact, sincere as she pressed a hand to his chest. "She loves you. You love her. The two of you are like a match made in heaven."
Eddie hummed in agreement, turning so his feet hung off the side of the lounge chair. "Or hell, if you want to look at it like that."
Robin cut him a look, gaze firm.
"Okay fine, you're made for each other, alright? There couldn't be a better duo than the two of you, and you'd need to be completely senseless to not see that," he reached out, fingers spread as he expected the cigarette back. "Trust me when I say, I think you're going to be perfect at this. You may think it's the wrong timing, but I mean, it happened for a reason."
Steve nodded, looking in between the two of them. He began to feel hopeful, figuring his two friends wouldn't lead him astray when it came to this.
"What if I am bad at it though? Even if I try?" His voice was small, fear etched into it. Robin placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly.
"No one's good at it, especially for the first time. What matters is trying and just being there," she said, patting at him. "Now get the hell up. Give her a call, apologize for being terrible and leaving her at her house, and make it work, Harrington."
Steve looked towards Eddie, who smiled and nodded as he agreed. Slowly standing up, he felt less shaky in his movements, redeveloping the muscle he felt he had lost earlier.
Eddie gave a toothy grin as Steve crossed the room, giddy in his steps as he made his way towards the house phone. "Just wrap it up next time, Harrington."
"Eddie!"
Masterlist! Inbox and requests are open! <3
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It’s been a bit since I wrote about feral!Bucky but I genuinely cannot put into words how much Steve (and me) loves him
Bucky now associates physical touch with pain, with torture. He hides from visitors, scampers away from touch, and never lets anyone get close to him. Nevertheless, Steve wakes up from a nap one day with Bucky curled into his side, and Steve is pretty sure that if he could, Bucky would be purring like a kitten.
“Bucky?” Steve asks tentatively, trying not to spook him. Bucky doesn’t seem to be upset by Steve sudden consciousness, instead just making a small noise and wrapping his arms around Steve’s chest possessively. He mumbles something that sounds like “Stevie”.
“You alright, angel?” Steve asks with a grin, confused but pleased with the change in Bucky’s demeanor. He knew Bucky had always been closer with Steve, trusting him more than others, but this was still new territory. He slides his arms around Bucky, which causes Bucky to make a happy noise that Steve hasn’t heard in years.
————
Also, maybe Bucky’s a bit territorial now that he’s been given more freedom. The poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself. However, after consulting a bunch of psychiatrists and Dr. Banner, Steve knows what he needs to do. He empties out an old walk in closet, and fits it with as many soft things as he can find. He buys as many plushies as he can afford, and stuffs the closet with them. He remembers how much Bucky hates harsh lights now and decides to buy those pretty string lights that Peter has in his room at the tower. He shows it to Bucky when it’s finished and they’ve both had a good day.
“It’s all your own space, Buck. I’m never going to come in here without your permission. I swear it.” Steve says, holding Bucky’s hand, which lately Bucky won’t let go of.
“It’s… mine?” Bucky says, slowly, tentatively. He’s scared that all of this will be taken away.
“Yeah, Buck. Yours.” Steve says, as comforting and securely as I can, trying to make his confidence transfer to Bucky.
Steve is tackled in a hug, and there are tears wetting his shirt. He hugs Bucky back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Thank you.” The whisper is so soft, so small, that it’s almost imperceptible. But Steve hears it. He’ll always hear Bucky.
————
Then, of course, there’s the moment when Steve’s telling Bucky about life back in Brooklyn, a topic that Bucky is very interested in. He’s going on about something that they did to piss off Becca (“we were teenagers, Buck. The best entertainment we had was making that poor girl mad.”) when Bucky stops him.
“I remember.”
Steve drops the pencil he’s holding. “You… You do?” There’s so much hope in his voice. There’s unshed tears in Bucky’s eyes, and a small smile on his face.
“Yes. Rebecca. My Becca.” Bucky’s smile gets bigger, as does Steve. Steve rushes to his side, hugging him. Bucky’s crying, and Steve’s not far behind him. Bucky laughs, and it is the best goddamn sound Steve Rogers has ever heard. “She was so mad. I can’t believe we did that.” He giggles, and it makes Steve feel like maybe everything will be okay.
previous feral!Bucky
Me too! I am such a fucking sucker for feral Bucky
I am beside myself thinking about Bucky being so touch adverse only for Steve to wake up and find him tucked into his side 😫 and there's something so special, too, about Bucky having moments in recovery where he's so suddenly more himself. It makes it so much more painful to see the rapid realignment. It's as if he's found two loose ends and knotted them together as quickly as his fingers would allow to ensure that he doesn't misplace them again. Gah! It's so just 🤌🏻ouch🤌🏻
Oh my god!! The territorial thing, yes! I've had this in my notes for actual years, waiting for me to come back to it and do something with it:
Sometimes, during Bucky's recovery, he latches onto things with this ferocity, holding until his fingers hurt, distraught when he accidentally breaks it, if the object of desire is fragile, claiming "mine." He won't let anyone touch it, not unless it's over his dead body. Steve has genuinely never been so distraught and proud of someone for grabbing a mug and declaring it as their own. Bucky deserves to have his own things.
Same wavelength, lmao
That's so fucking sweet, though! I love the idea of Bucky having his own space. (And I love the idea of Peter's room in the tower having fairy lights. Fuck yeah.)
Ah! That last part is the fucking best. Steve will never be as eager to be interrupted as he is when he's in the middle of a story, and Bucky stops him because he remembers. He doesn't need to tell him again, he remembers. Steve could fucking kiss him. Steve will kiss him. Steve will pick him up and spin him around, clutching his waist all the while, a huge grin on his face.
In conclusion:
Thank you so, so much for this!!
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yandere (chiropractor) x !fem reader
vernorexia(n.) – a romantic mood inspired by warm weather and early springtime - /vern-oh-rex-eyuh/
it was a glum day today; dewy rain drops and mushy leaves scattered around your neighbourhood. and, to make it even worse, you had an appointment today, a chiropractic consultation with a doctor whom you did not know.
but it was okay, right? it was just a crack of the bones, to make your aching body feel better.
10 23 am
you arrive at the clinic, turning your windshield wipers off and parking your car. the clinic has a mahogany wood outside, and it was easy on the eyes. you realize you are being soaked in rain, and run inside the small building. a gust of lavender and vanilla enters your nostrils, its aromatic smell pleasing all your senses. you walk up to the receptionist. “hello, I’m here for an appointment with erm..” you don’t know his name. “doctor hart? I’ve got your file right here. ms. y/n l/n? he’s the only chiropractor here today, no one works on sundays.” the receptionist smiles, she was a pregnant, red head woman with a rather thin physique, her name plate read ‘kacie barlowe, receptionist’.
“that.. would be me. thank you.” you say, and take a seat in a waiting chair. “he will be with you briefly.” she mutters, clicking away on her keyboard, eyes glued on her computer screen.
the clinic had a birch wood finish, and plenty of plants in the waiting area, which was pleasant. you twiddle with your thumbs, glancing at the receptionist who took a sip of her drink occasionally.
“y/n l/n?” the chiropractor says in a deep, yet calm voice, his body half in the doorway and half in the corridor. you look down, and grab your things as you follow dr. hart into the office. “right this way,” he says. you make it there in a quick 30 seconds, and he closes the door right behind you.
“well hello there,” he says, grabbing a clipboard and gathering his tools. “If you may not already know, I’m Doctor Hart. I’ll be fixing you up today! So, before we get started I’m going to need a little information. Any sore spots? Previous surgeries?” He asks, looking up at you. His voice is soothing, like honey to your ears. And boy, is he cute. His green eyes stares into your e/c ones, his gaze lingering for a little too long. “um, my back has really been bothering me, so has my neck. as for surgeries, none.” You reply. You answer any other questions that he asks you, and he gets you to lay on the bed.
“Alright then, let’s get started, shall we?” He grabs an adjuster, and places it on your shoulder. It makes a slight ‘crack’ sound, and you feel like your shoulder has been put back in a place you didn’t know existed. You grunt softly, but stay still nonetheless. he does this again with your back, and your neck before he uses his hands to relax your muscles. “Let’s get your trigger points active,” he says, and he starts moving his hands all over your back, neck and even your legs. it feels like a new experience, a piece of heaven.
After a half an hour, the treatment is done. He places some sort of a lotion and spreads it out on your neck. It smells, again, like lavender. What is up with this place and lavender? you think.
“and..you’re done.” Dr hart says, grinning softly. he helps you off of the bed. “my body feels like jelly..” you mutter under your breath, struggling to keep your balance. “that’s alright, it’s normal. if you’d like.. you could just stay here for a bit. I need to grab the print out of your body analysis, anyways.” he says, before leaving the room. “oh- okay?” You say, sitting in a chair next to his desk. he was an organized individual, despite all of the neon yellow post-it notes that practically covered his bulletin board. at his desk, is a picture frame of him that looks like he’s at his graduation, holding his doctorate. In another frame, there is a woman he has his arm wrapped around. She’s blonde, like him, with a pink polo and brown eyes. she was outstandingly pretty. well, to be fair, he was a fairly good looking guy himself, so no surprise there. perhaps it’s his wife?
just then, dr hart walks in with the report. He cocks a blonde eyebrow, but hands it to you anyways in a disturbed manner. did he catch you checking out his pictures? you grab your bag. “uh, thank you, dr hart. have a great rest of your day—“ you say. “Sorry, I think you’ve forgotten something.” He says. It’s a hat, but it’s not yours. He grabs your wrist and injects a vein with a syringe filled with a yellow hued liquid inside. You start to feel drowsy. “doctor..?” You mumble, before blacking out completely. All you can hear now is dr hart’s shuffling as he stares into your soul, your heart beating in your chest.
will you continue? find the next part in my account ;)
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Hii, could I request a nsfw headcanos with Leviathan, Lucifer and Beelzebub. How would these kings react when they're doing the 👉👌 with MC and suddenly, somebody interrupts them.
Asldhfkld I just really love your writing to this fandom 💖💖
Yes!! Thank you so much thank you for adopting me into your fandom I am just a lonely writer looking for a home 🥺
Whb kings
Leviathan, Lucifer, Beelzebub
Reaction to demons walking in on them and Mc
Nsfw
Leviathan
Using his cum as lube, He grabs over your legs, holding you in half. Climbing on top of you, He presses his whole body down onto yours, Your legs over his shoulders as he begins to pound hard, deeper mercifully. His whole coffin begins to creek as the sound of his balls slapping against your skin fills the room. And even then, the sound of the door opening cuts through like a hot knife through butter. He slams his cock deep inside, holding it there. His grip on your hips tightens, digging his fingers into your skin. Leviathan flips you onto your stomach pressing your head against the pillow blocking your vision the same time smothering you.
He growls at whatever idiot that decided now was the time to bother him. He didn't even get to see who it was.
"Hang!" He shouts. The door immediately shuts probably the rope taking the demon with it.
They could hang there choking till he's done for all he cares. No one gets to see you sweaty messy and filled.
Lucifer
His hips slowly grind into you. He holds you close to his body, his lips gently kissing every inch of your neck. He goes slow at first making sure his hands touch and feel every inch of your body, He wants to make sure his cock memorizes every squeeze and pulse. And he needs you to feel every vein and curve has he tries to get to know more of your insides. Trying to find every spot that makes you curl your toes, that makes you moan his name. His tongue slides into your mouth when he begins to speed up his hands lifting you with ease as he uses you like a toy, space begins to quicken when he feels you clench.
He buried his nose into your neck His teeth was just about the sink into your skin until.
The door opens, and Lucifer's eyes widen using the blankets he covers his and your body. He lets out an animalistic hiss, His eyes going black, his Little tufts of bloodied feathers ruffling. If the demon valued their life, they would leave the room.
Beelzebub
Making you scream and cry out his name, his harsh pace of his hips smacking against yours does not falter even as he hears the door open.
It was Bael, with paperwork in hand, about ready to yell at his king for yet again skipping out on work. Beel only smirked at his new audience member manhandling your body till you laid against his chest as he thrust up into you, showing his noble all that you have to offer. Bael stops in place from the scene before him. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed, and his pants tightened.
With you still rising and whimpering his name Beel gave the demon in front of him a shit eating grin.
"as you can see I'm very busy, but I suppose I don't mind putting on a show~"
#whb beelzebub#whb mc#whb#whb x reader#what in hell is bad#whb leviathan#whb lucifer#smut#whb smut#whb headcanons#whb fanfic
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YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter eight)
Main Navigation || Series Masterlist
Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.
Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader
Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.
Warnings — None.
YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE SMALLEST OF GIFTS
Time seems to slow to a crawl in the steel cocoon of the elevator, but Steve finds a sense of tranquility as he keeps vigil over your sleep.
He’d been through wars, seen the best and worst of humanity, yet nothing’s prepared him for the quiet upheaval that came with caring for someone in such a simple and unguarded way.
There’s a promise forming within him, unspoken but resolute, vowing to bridge the gap between your brief encounter here and the uncertain expanse of the real world beyond. Even he, in his infinite attempts at denial, knows he needs to find a way to make this connection endure, to weave the thread of this shared experience into the fabric of your everyday lives.
But life, much like you, has a way of surprising him when he least expected it.
With a soft sigh, you stir in his arms, your body shifting ever so slightly as consciousness begins to seep back into your features. Your eyelids flutter, revealing sleepy eyes that blink up at him, still hazy from dreams.
A smile spreads across Steve’s face, one that reaches deep into his eyes, crinkling their corners with genuine delight.
“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, the affection in his voice wrapped in a playful tease. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
Your eyes go wide with shock, and just as you’re about to leap back in surprise, his arm tightens around you, the motion almost instinctual.
Something shifts inside him then, like the tectonic plates of his very soul rearranging themselves to accommodate the seismic event that is you.
He pictures you waking just like this in a bedroom with linen sheets, the sun streaming in through a nearby window, looking up at him with a sleepy smile.
He imagines introducing you to the Avengers, his friends, all the banter and jokes at his expense, and the looks of surprise when they would see this unassuming woman who’s captured his attention.
It’s not lost on him, the absurdity of contemplating a future with someone he’s only known a few hours, but he can’t seem to shake the feeling that there’s significance in this chance encounter.
Warmth seems to grow with each passing minute with the fantasy, feeding a fire that sparks unexpectedly in his heart.
Suddenly, thoughts of the world outside that demands Captain America disappear, the weight of his shield feels distant, and he begins to truly appreciate a very peculiar kind of magic at play.
“Steve?” You whisper, your breath fanning across his cheek. He only holds you tighter in response, moving achingly slow as he places his chin on top of your head, allowing you to find purchase against his chest.
He closes his eyes, his lungs seem unable to draw in enough breath, no matter how deeply he breathes.
Because, for the first time in years, Steve dreams for something beyond a hero’s call—a shared future, unpredictable and thrilling in moments of vulnerability and laughter.
“Never thought I’d get cozy with Steve Rogers in an elevator,” you mumble, heart in your throat.
You shift, your leg brushing against his as you settle further into his chest. The contact is electric, sparking a connection that surges through your veins, setting every nerve ending on alert.
At any other time, in any other place, you might have straightened up, put distance between you out of respect for personal boundaries. But here, the rules of engagement seem rewritten by an unseen hand.
“Am I heavy?” You ask, though what you really want to ask is whether he can feel the racing of your heart, or if he knows just how much this moment means to you.
“Not even a little,” he assures, his tone light. “Are you comfortable?”
“Never better,” you whisper, watching the fabric of his t-shirt ripple under your breath. “You make a surprisingly good pillow, Rogers.”
“Happy to be of service,” he pulls back just a little, so that you can stare into his handsome face. The close quarters strip away his larger-than-life persona, leaving behind just a man—Steve, who is so much more than just a caricature of red, white, and blue.
It’s a peculiar thing, you muse, how a simple twist of fate can pivot your entire existence. A malfunctioning elevator has become a crucible, forging a bond that feels almost as strong as vibranium, yet as delicate as the silence that envelopes you.
Your heart swells with a mixture of joy and uncertainty in his arms. You wonder if you’re just running on borrowed time, if this newfound intimacy is just a result of adrenaline and forced proximity, that maybe the doors would open eventually and reality would come flooding back in.
But you cling to hope that this is just the beginning. Steve gives you a small smile in the darkness, the weight of his arm around your waist reassuring as you realize you don’t just want more moments like these; you need them.
Taking advantage of your closeness, you carefully study his face: the slope of his nose, the spots of freckles that you hadn’t noticed before, and the curve of his lips, like a cartographer charting out the contours of newly discovered land.
For now, you allow yourself the luxury of believing it’s possible—that someone as magnificent and lovely as Steve Rogers could feel for you even a fraction of what you feel right now.
“Steve?” You say his name again, your voice barely audible, a whisper against the quiet thrumming of the lift.
“Yes?” And when he says yours in return, you fall in love a little with the way it sounds.
“Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“That… we’ll go get your coffee after this,” you lean back against his shoulder, keeping your voice light, but there’s a seriousness in your tone that you can’t hide. “I need to make sure you’re not just a figment of my caffeine-deprived imagination.”
“Cross my heart.”
« Chapter 7 || Chapter 9 »
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#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers series#steve rogers fluff#summer’s fics
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Okay I usually hate trying to design characters but I’m having so much fun figuring John out so here’s yet another John concept design idea for you
The ALT text won’t work, so I’m gonna put the image ID here <3333
Image ID: This is my second time rewriting this so sorry it’s an… iffy description. Anyhow, John is portrayed as a fog-shrouded, shadowy figure under a large, ripped-up, yellow cloak. Dark fog seeps from the rips in the bottom of the fabric, twisting and turning. The darkness holds up a human-like Silhouette, with the addition of two upward-turning horns on the upper right side of where his head would be. The left side of his face is covered by a white, mostly-featureless mask, save for sharp, sun ray-like spikes protruding from the lower side of it. The mask’s eye is open, but any eye-like feature cannot be seen behind it, while on the revealed part of his face, a small, somehow even-darker-then-the-darkness orb lays where an eye would be thought to be. Above his head, a large, yellow halo floats at a slight angle, with a four-sided star shape in the front of it, and with it’s sides separating into two “paths” before meeting once more. Next to this sketch, Yellow is drawn much the same, except his features are opposite. His mask covers the right side of his face, rather than his left, it’s spikes are on the upper half of the side of it, and it’s eye is closed. His “horns” of sorts lay on the bottom left side of his face, not the right, and are facing downwards, rather than upwards. His halo is a solid line, with thorn-like spikes adorning its hoop. Above these drawings are some partial, kinda-old notes on past designs, one saying, “more intimidating to me, like John” (talking about the previous design idea), and “fuck Yellow”. We ignore this last one, as I am a changed person.
#ignore the notes at the top I negate them and I care for Yellow deeply#also ig this is kinda a yellow design too but I don’t think it fits#oh can you tell my yellow pen was being weird#it didn’t want to portray dark god fragment :((#malevolent spoilers#malevolent spoilers?#john malevolent#john doe malevolent#malevolent john#malevolent yellow#yellow malevolent#the king in yellow#malevolent the king in yellow#malevolent design concepts#my art#uhhhhh insert more impressive tags here#Arthur’s going to be such a pain to design#he better not take 9 redesigns like Jon (tma ofc) did#if he does I will implode
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Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter Sixteen (Ao3 Azriel x Elain)
I cannot believe there are only four chapters left! I am a mess. If you need to catch up on the fic, you can find your chapter on the master list here. Link to the new chapter will be below!
There is not too much more to say today, other than I hope my Tumblr babes catch the note at the end of the chapter. Here is a sneak peek, our girl Elain went THRU it!!
Preview:
Azriel
It had been three days. Three days and Elain showed no signs of waking.
Azriel sat beside her bed at the river house, morning until night. He only ate or drank when Nesta or Feyre brought him food and water and demanded he take a few sips and nibbles for sustenance.
If he felt himself falling asleep, his body responded with lurching panic. Fear that Elain would slip away in the night, and he wouldn’t be there for her when it happened.
Cassian granted him a few hours of rest the previous night after he had quietly slipped into the room with a roll of blades in need of sharpening and polishing.
“Care to join me?” Cassian asked, offering him one of the blades along with a small vial of oil and a whetstone.
Azriel could only shake his head, too exhausted to even answer. He didn’t have the energy to polish a blade, though he knew his brother only intended to help him keep his mind focused on a task while they waited for Elain to wake up.
“That’s alright,” Cassian shrugged. He looked to Elain, eyes pained, then back to Azriel. “I’ll keep an eye on her if you want to close your eyes for a few minutes.”
Azriel hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but the flick of those blades gliding along the stone was like a lullaby. He clasped Elain’s hand, using his arm as a pillow on the bed and closed his eyes.
When he woke a few hours later, Cassian was still alert in his chair, eyes fixed on them and watching intently for any disturbances, Azriel’s heart clenched.
“Thank you,” he croaked.
Cassian only nodded and rolled his shoulders. “I needed to catch up on those blades, anyway.”
Azriel eyed the freshly polished blades on the roll and knew Cassian had been done with the work a long time ago, but he made no mention of it.
Cassian walked up to him and gripped his shoulder tightly. “You once told me I would know,” he tapped at his chest, “right here. I would know.” Azriel’s throat tightened unbearably. “You would know too, Az. If Elain wasn’t still with us, you would know. Give her time.”
Azriel tried to blink back the burn in his eyes, tried to hold on to his brother’s words as he looked towards Elain, so pale and still on the bed. Her neck and hands bandaged from the burns she suffered in the duel.
You can go mad or perish.
He had done this. He gave her his power without testing it first, without getting a sense of how it felt or what the limitations were. He gave and gave until Elain removed Beron’s head from his body, put on a massive display of power in front of the leaders of the courts, then hit the ground with a sickening thud that he felt rattle his very core.
Her burns were healing. Madja had said that was a good sign that whatever was happening beneath her skin was likely also making progress. Still, it wasn’t fast enough. If she woke up soon, she’d likely still experience some pain.
If Elain wasn’t still with us, you would know. Give her time.
He released a heavy breath and waited.
Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!
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🩵“got me hangin from the ceilin”🩵
pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
summary: Red Hood and you have been flirty rivals. You make a mess and he’s there to clean it up and put you away, nothing more to it. At least that’s what you both think.
tropes: secret identity, rivals to lovers, superhero AU, hero x villian
warnings: might be ooc, I just got into dc lol
“Seriously darlin? Do I need to be upside down~?” Red Hood chuckled. Although you couldn’t see his face you could tell he was smirking to himself.
“Yeah, I like you better like this.” You smile as he tilts his head to the side.
“Well I don’t, too scared to look me in the eye darlin?” He said leaning closer making you gently hold his mask.
“I am right now aren’t I~?” You mutter closing the gap between you and his mask, a quick breath being taken as an inch of air was shared between the two of you.
“What’s your plan y/v/n? Tryna sweet talk me?” You quickly lift his mask to be met with his lips just stopping before you can see his eyes.
“Don’t you fuckin dare y/v/n.” He growled. You roll your eyes and looked at his face examining every painful scar scattered on his skin. You rub your hand over every small scratch and scar registering nothing but silence and the tension. Jason’s breath halted but continued as your soft thumb grazed against his rough skin like it was fragile.
“I wonder if you’re as hot as you sound Red~” you hummed subconsciously licking your lips. A bright red flushed his features getting a sweet chuckle from you. Under his mask Jason was conflicted. Risk his identity or.. stop this right now. He didn’t wanna stop. He loved the feeling of your hands and the way your voice swayed him. A warm feeling he loved always overcame his body.
“So what now darlin, gonna expose me to the world?” He growled attempting to escape his restraints. You chuckle and tilt his head back staring at his lips.
“Oh no.. I would never, just let me get one before leave.” You mutter, your left hand held his helmet so you couldn’t see his whole face while the other rubbed from behind his ear to his shoulder. Every second your hand explored his muscles if felt as if it set sparks aflame. He wanted you so bad right now.
“And what do you want before you leave?” He asked sarcastically before you finally closed the gap between the two of you. His lips stayed still for a minute before relaxing and becoming more in sync. You slowly parted leaving little room between the two of you.
“Let me down and I’ll-“ he’s stopped by the sound of the Batmobile roaring through the streets. Specifically the one they are on. You slide his mask up and back away slowly admiring your work with an almost teasing smile on your face.
“Not happening tonight but~ I enjoyed that, we should do it more often Red~” you hum with a wink before sliding out the window and to your escape.
Moments later the door busts down revealing the bat himself.
“Jason what happened-“ he asked as Jason sat silently avoiding the bats eyes.
“She uh.. she got away.” Jason huffed as Batman cuts the wire holding him up causing him to fall. Jason composes himself and stands up before fixing his mask all the way.
“We just found a lead on who she is and who she’s working for.” Batman reveals walking out of the empty apartment. Red hood silently follows listening but also thinking.
Did you mean what you said?
“So what really happened?” Dick asked leaning in the doorway of his room with Tim behind him.
“I told you what happened-“ Jason started before being interrupted by Dick.
“Not all of it. You were barely responsive during the meeting.” Dick said with a smirk.
“She didn’t do anything did she?” Tim asked. Jason held his mask and stared at it reminiscing about the way your hands explored him, cradled his face as if porcelain.
“..we kissed.” Jason muttered aggravated and blushing.
“I’m sorry what did you say~?” Dick said putting a hand to his ear. Jason sighed and asked for his door to be closed. Tim closes it as Dick’s eyebrow raises.
“We kissed.. and I liked it.” Jason sighed tossing his helmet on his bed.
“You what?! Do you know what Bruce would think-“ Tim started for Dick to laugh.
“So what, you two are an item now?” Dick crosses his arms and Jason’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought.
“No.. I just have this feeling..” Jason sighs. Is he in love with you? You two couldn’t be together but he wanted you so bad. You were nothing but temptation and you have him around your finger. What he doesn’t know is that you felt it too.
Authors notes: yall I’ve been playin Arkham Knight and although I hate the controls it got me really into DC. I do have other fanfictions coming out but I may add DC to the Masterlist 👀
#Spotify#jason todd#jason todd x reader#fanfic#x reader#dcu#dc universe#red hood#red hood x y/n#batman#dc fanfic#mxrtixnzwrld
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Scott Street
Parings: Poe Dameron x Reader
Poe stands in front of you, looking everywhere but your eyes. Your jaw clenches. A part of you wants him to be a man and look you in the eyes. Another part of you gets it entirely.
He had known from the first day you arrived--a wild glint in your eyes and a thirst to prove yourself--that you wouldn't settle. But god, he had hoped you'd settle for him. He had prayed he'd be enough. So here he stands now, a foot away from you yet unreachable.
"Poe." It was stern, like he expected. "Poe?" This one was soft, which is unexpected. Unexpected enough that he finally meets your eye.
And here you are, breaking his fucking heart--tearing it out of his chest, holding it carelessly as it bleeds in your hands. And he wasn't even asking you to stay.
"Poe. Please. Say something," you sound desperate. You've never felt like this before--not with him, at least. The two of you had always seen eye to eye. Had always understood each other without words. That's how he knows you're not coming back, even if you promise. But you think that if he asked, you'd stay.
"I'm happy for you. If this is what you want, then I am so incredibly happy for you." His voice is so genuine, it makes your heart clench and twist uncomfortably. "I think you deserve the universe, you know that. So go get it." He just smiled that Poe Dameron smile. If you knew him any less, you would think he doesn't even care.
But you knew him better than he knew himself most days.
You put your hand on his arm. It's tense. "I'll stay if you ask me to."
He knows you would. He also knows you would silently resent him for it. He shakes his head slightly. His firm chin waivers, and he becomes very interested in his shoes. "You know I'd never ask you to do that."
You nod. You do know. You know him better than you know yourself. He thinks he knows you better than he knows himself, but then again he doesn't understand why. Why you're leaving him. Why he's never the first choice. Why he's not enough. Why you won't come back. He just knows you won't. He's not sure if it's thrill, or the need to prove yourself, or the fear of being in one place for too long. He has no clue why staying with him is never enough. There's always some other thrill. Some other reason you can't just be with him.
But the pilot in him understands as no one else does. Because how is he any different? He flies around into dangerous, uncharted territory. The need to prove himself is in his blood as it is yours. But I'd come back to you, he thinks.
He clears his throat, the chain around his neck branding his skin. He was going to give you that ring, now he fears he'll never get to. But he's a realistic man. He knows the ring has belonged to you since you challenged him in the X-wings on your first day. He knows it'll belong to you long after you're gone, just as it did long before you came. So, with shaking hands, he lifts the necklace over his head and places it in your hand, cupping his around yours.
His heart pangs. This may be the last time he feels your hands.
You stare up at him, shock painting your features. "Poe..." You're at a loss of words. You feel like you've only said his name throughout the entire exchange because you just don't quite know what else to say. "This is your mother's. I can't-"
His warm hand is still on yours and your chest still leaps like its the first time he's ever touched you. Like you haven't explored each other's bodies and mapped every surface. "And now it's yours. Don't be a stranger." It's said jokingly but you can hear the desperation. He'd recognize you blind, and now he fears it's his last chance to stare into your eyes.
He places a kiss on your forehead, and you close your eyes on instinct. When you open them, you only see his retreating figure.
Bile builds in your throat. What had you expected? I expected him to ask me to stay, you think. I would've stayed if he asked.
Ring clenched in your fist, you turn to your X-wing and climb into the cock pit.
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