#I know this is sloppy but it popped into my head and now I’m miserable

[vague-shadows]

Something I Need

So this is my first attempt to participate in a Whumptober. I'd been debating whether to bother since the last few weeks have been crazy, and I'm behind in drafting and posting. I may not catch up before the month ends, but excited to work through the prompts as much as I can.

Prompt No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” | Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

I was thinking on the prompt when "Something I Need" by OneRepublic played on my shuffling playlist, and thus we arrive at this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

Edward hears the key turn in the lock and rises with a sleepy smile to go and greet Roy.  As he gets to his feet, the world seems to lurch sideways, and he stumbles a bit, catching himself on the arm of the sofa.  He worries that he’s sloshed whiskey all over the floor but then realizes the glass tumbler in his hand is empty. Again. Whoops.

Edward hadn’t intended to get quite this drunk.  

“Ed?” Roy calls as he removes his coat and gloves at the door.  “You home?”

Ed leans heavily against the doorframe as he looks out into the hall. 

“‘Course,” he replies with a wry smile, “where else would I be?” 

He moves toward Roy, placing a hand on Roy’s chest and moving in for a lingering kiss that’s probably a little sloppy but he doubts Roy minds. Roy pulls back from the kiss, looking down at Ed as he wraps an arm around his waist. 

“I thought you might still be at the university," wasn’t the programming for the symposium scheduled to last through dinner and a reception after? I thought you’d - ”

“Left early,” Ed interjects, “fuckin’ press was circling like a bunch’f vultures. Felt like a fuckin’ bug under a microscope.”

Roy sighs, letting his head lean forward to rest on Edward's shoulder.  “I'm sorry. I know you hate it."

"'s not your fault."

"They only seem to get worse with the elections coming up.”

“Yep,” Ed agrees with an exaggerated pop of the ‘p.’  “And hell if I’m gonna do something stupid or embarrassing that fucks up this campaign for you.”

"Edward, you shouldn't have to be holed up in here being miserable. Maybe you should get out of town for a while? Take a vacation? I know you already hated being stuck in one place for so long - now you can’t even go out - I…worry,” he says with a look past Ed toward the sidebar where the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sits. 

“You’re just worried I’m gonna be able to out-drink you at the inauguration ball,” Ed teases, hoping to deflect. “Besides, you’re missing out by not enjoying all that great whiskey you hoard - this bottle is great .  Have some with me,” he says, pulling Roy by the arm as he heads back for the bottle. 

“I don’t hoard whiskey. I’m curating a collection to age and - ”

Edward isn’t deterred by Roy’s oft-repeated defense of his extensive alcohol inventory.  He tunes it out in favor of focusing on pouring the remaining amber liquid into two tumblers and offering one to Roy. 

“C’mon. Cheers,” Edward says as Roy takes the offered glass. 

“Cheers,” he replies, clicking his glass lightly against Edward’s and taking a measured sip while Edward indulges in a gulp that drains half his portion. “Edward, are you sure you’re okay? I know the stress of this election is - ”

“I’m fine , Bastard,” he interjects, “just focusing on enjoying now instead of hoarding for later. Nothing wrong with cutting loose a little bit, is there?” he reasons. “Ya only die once, right?” he adds with a grin, taking another deep drink.  

“I think the phrase is ‘you only live once,’ Edward,” Roy says, frowning, the adorable little crease in his forehead that indicates he’s thinking too hard about something appears.  

“Same difference,” Edward says with a shrug.  “Live once - die once - however you phrase it - I wanna die with you, Fuhrer Bastard.”

“Edward - ”

“Whole damn world full of people out there, but you’re the one I never could shake.”

“Ed, I think there’s something bigger we need to talk about here.”

“Nah, nothin’ to talk about,” Ed dismisses, tossing back the last of his drink.  “I tried a million times to understand the reasoning - but there’s no logic - just something about you…” 

He reaches to card his fingers through Roy’s hair.  Edward thought he was explaining that the political hellscape he signed up for is something that is worth dealing with if that’s what it takes to be with Roy. Except Roy just looks wrecked, and Edward isn’t quite sure why...but Ed must’ve fucked up what he was trying to say...but his coherency is fading fast, so he can’t fix it right now.  

“Just come to bed with me?” Ed asks - hoping maybe he hasn’t fucked anything up so badly that Roy plans to sleep in the guest room rather than with his sloppy sad-drunk fiance. “Please?” 

He hasn’t told Roy, but the nightmares that all-too-often plague his dreams have taken on a new theme these past few weeks.  Almost every night, Roy gets assassinated in Ed’s nightmares - snipers, rogue alchemists, poison, bombs - it seems his mind has an ample supply of ammunition to ensure all the worst-case scenarios play out in gruesome detail.  The only thing keeping Ed sane is the ability to wake up and see that Roy is safely asleep in bed beside him.  

Just a few more months until the election… he reminds himself as if it’s a comfort.

But a voice that sounds too much like Truth always intrudes with the counter-thought: maybe just a few more months until the election, but what then, little alchemist? You’ll still be as much an intruder in the political world as you were in mine. Won’t you ever learn better than to tread where you don’t belong?

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #safety net #fullmetal alchemist #fic #drinking to cope #depression #royed #beka writes

[thememerman]

Yk the more I think about it the more I doubt that Obi-Wan ever even found out about the chips. He immediately cut himself off entirely and lived on Tattooine, a place that probably saw very little Imperial activity; how could Obi-Wan know anything about the chips? Maybe Bail told him eventually, but it took a lot of time for even the clones themselves to know that they had chips; I doubt he found out for a while. In addition to losing Anakin and being betrayed by him in just about every worst way possible, did he wonder if Cody somehow hated him too? The two people he trusted with his life more times than anyone else aside from Qui-Gon both tried to kill him on the same day and he probably never even truly knew why.

#I know this is sloppy but it popped into my head and now I’m miserable #star wars #the clone wars #animated star wars #clone troopers #captain rex #the bad batch #cody and obi wan #you know obi blames himself #anakin and obi wan #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #revenge of the sith

[writtendaydreamm]

One Rule

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

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She quickly feigned innocence. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It feels so fucking good, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfiction

[otptings]

Accidental Voyeurism

⌦Idol: Wayv

⌦requested: yessss Hiii! I’m not sure if you’ve done this before, but can i get a WayV reaction where they’re getting heated up with their s/o but then another member walks in? Thank you!

⌦word count: 1.7k+

⌦genre: nsfw (18+) (not each one is sexual thought)

⌦warning: unprotected sex, accidental voyeurism, exhibitionsim (Yangyang, Hendery), choking (Lucas)

⌦synopsis: member walking in during intimate times

⌦a/n: listen, I know hendery's is long, but in my defense I wrote exhibitionism, so I had to have exhibitionism. also have y'all seen the video of YangYang pulling his jacket down and body rolling completely unprompted? cause that now lives rent free in my head. if you liked this reaction requests are open for NCT, SVT, Enhypen and Treasure. please like, reblog, or donate to my Ko-Fi or cash app in my bio. thank you 💞

Kun

Face - mind - body practically red

He’s embarrassed

Would instantly stop

Apologize to you, and the unfortunate member that walked in

Sexy mode? Completely gone

Would take a year for this man to feel comfortable enough to have sex in the dorms again

“My baby’s so loud. Want everyone to hear huh?” Kun’s teasing tone was deadly, especially while he was two fingers in your cunt, fingers massaging your walls. Your grip on Kun’s wrist was tight, biting your lip to hide your moans.

“Kun.” All you could do was whimper at his palm rubbing over your clit, thighs shaking from trying to prevent them from closing around his wrist in fear he’ll pull away. “Please.”

“Begging already? We just started.” Your next moan was swallowed by Kun, his lips covering yours. There was no way for you to kiss him back, too overwhelmed. Kun’s teasing words in your ears were enough for neither of you to hear the door open, Winwin gasping was all it took for you two to pull apart. Kun didn’t move, covering your exposed cunt and yelling out a ‘sorry’ as Winwin slammed the door behind him.

“Should’ve locked the fucking door.”

Ten

Would not give one fuck

He’d stop out of respect for you

Instantly annoyed by the member

Would make that member’s life miserable for a week as pay back

He’d still be ready to go

But would stop if you were embarrassed

“So good for me.” Ten’s grip on your hair tightened while guiding you up and down his cock. Looking up through your lashes you keened at the sight of Ten throwing his head back, hickey’s lining his chest.  Knowing that you were the reason why Ten was moaning loudly. “Close baby.” Ten softly thrust up into your mouth, groaning as you ran your tongue under the head of his cock, tracing the veins.

“Hey Ten did you see Lou-” The door burst open, revealing Hendery standing in the door frame, mouth open at the sight of you going down on Ten. You pulled off, cringing at the obscene pop while Ten tossed a blanket over both of you.

“Get out.” Hendery squeaked out a sorry before slamming the door shut, his footsteps retreating down the hallway. Ten groaned, running his hands down his face, his cock was still hard and now throbbing because of the unintentional edging.

“Are you okay baby?”

WinWin

Same as Kun

Bright red, and embarrassed

Instantly turned off, dick on soft

He’d be more scarred than the member that walked in

“We’re gonna be late for practice, hurry u-” Yep, that’s you. You’re probably remembering how you ended up here.

Truly it’s not your fault. How were you ever supposed to say no to him asking for a quickie? Especially in his sleeveless top and sweatpants that made him look delectable. By the time he pressed you against his room door and placed sloppy kisses along your neck you were putty in his hands. It took all of 5 minutes for your pants to be discarded, you’d later see they were hanging off his desk chair, and your hands carding through his hair, sighing as his tongue flicked over your clit.

“Sicheng, please.” Sicheng may be shy everywhere else, but never in the bedroom. Now, as he looked up at you from his spot between his legs, smirking as your arousal covered his chin you wondered how you ever thought he was innocent.

He was about to return to his task right as the door knob twisted, and Xiao halted at the scene in front of him, words dying out as his cheeks grew bright red.

“Sorry.” You would’ve found the scene funny, Xiao’s voice cracking before slamming the door shut, but Sicheng seemed to be stuck.

“Sicheng?”

“I can never face him again.”

Lucas 

Would not care

Not all

No embarrassment

Would shoo them out

His only waver would be to ask if you were okay

Then he’d thrust right back into you if you were okay

Free time with Lucas is something that is rarely gifted, so every second you can get alone is cherished. This was supposed to be a simple movie night with the rest of the boys, celebrating their successful comeback and the return of WinWin and Lucas to Korea. Fortunately Lucas had different plans when he led you into the room, pulling you to straddle his lap as he dropped onto his bed. This was a pleasant surprise.

“I’ve missed you.” Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him into a kiss, which Lucas took no time to deepen by licking at the seams of your lip. Pulling away Lucas only chuckled at your already fucked out expression.

“Show me how much.” You took no time to slide off the bed, seating yourself in between his legs. Lifting his hips up Lucas helped you push down his sweatpants, releasing his pretty cock. Swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock you sighed at the taste of his pre cum, you hadn’t realized just how severely you missed the feel of his cock on your tongue until you took him as deep as you could.

It wasn’t until you reached the base, taking breaths through your nose that the door burst open, causing Lucas to accidentally thrust deeper into your throat making you choke. Pulling off you were too focused on the tears running down your face as you coughed to realize that it was Hendery in the doorway.

“Just wanted to say the movie started.” Hendery awkwardly laughed before racing out of the room, leaving Lucas to make sure you were okay after choking on his cock.

Xiaojun

Would be super embarrassed

Maybe not as red as Kun and Winwin

Wouldn’t stop though

I mean, his dick would still be hard so why stop?

He’d have post nut clarity that when all of the embarrassment hits

“It is okay Xiao.” Biting your lip you tried to hide your laughs. Xiao needed you to comfort him, but the situation was terribly funny.

“It’s not. I won’t be able to look at them again.” His voice was muffled from the pillow, and you knew that if you could see his face an embarrassed flushed would be present.

“It wasn’t that bad. Remember when you walked in on Lucas?”  That was one for the books.

“That doesn’t mean he had to walk in on me.” At his whining you couldn’t help but laugh, a loud guffaw that only made Xiao more flustered. “Leave me alone.” Xiao jokingly pushed you away from him, causing you to fall  down on the bed beside him, still giggling.

“Come on. The post nut clarity was that strong? You didn’t even stop.” Xiao couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I swear you went faster after Lucas walked in.”

“My dick was still hard, it’s not my fault.”

Hendery

If you dated Hendery you’d probably be a crackhead like him

Both of you would laugh over it

Prolly jokingly call out sorry for the poor member

But definitely continue

Exhibitionism kink? Either one or both of you got hornier from it

You thought the dorm was empty. That’s the only reason why you agreed to join Hendery in the shower, knowing how it’ll end up.

It did start off innocent thought, both of you sharing a sweet moment alone, pressing chaste kisses underneath the warm stream of water. Until Hendery decided that he wasn’t going to waste his only free time with you, pressing you against the wall and placing kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving marks along your exposed skin.

There was no way you’d be bothered enough to hide your moans, especially when Hendery was rubbing his cockhead around your hole, teasing you while his other hand played with your nipple, pinching and twisting it until it was erect.

“Hendery.” He laughed before finally slipping in, groaning at the feeling of pulling him in. You let out a high pitched moan at the stretch, haven’t been able to have him like that for days.

“What’s all that noise?” Famous last words.

Thank god the curtain was closed, because before either of you could react the bathroom door opened. “Hendery.”

“Kind of busy Ten.” You zoned out on their conversation, especially when Hendery was still slowly grinding against you, the tip of his cock rubbing over your g spot and you couldn’t help but clench around him. Ten was so close to the shower curtain, and all he had to do was pull it back even a little bit to see your compromised position. Hendery’s hand slid up to cover your mouth, as he started thrusting into you, still talking to Ten all the while. You felt your eyes roll back when Ten finally left the bathroom, the door closing behind with a click behind him.

“You liked him being so close huh?” Hendery uncovered your mouth and all you could do was whimper.

This was new, and he’d be damned if he didn’t use it to his advantage.

Yangyang

Would not stop

Literally

Would continue to fuck you

Even while they’re standing in the doorway

That member is now traumatized and cannot look at YangYang the same way

He just gives off big dick energy, would you expect him to stop?

You are lucky. There’s no other way to phrase it. You’ve hit the absolute jackspot, and can only thank god as YangYang grabs your throat and pulls you up so that your back hits his chest, thrusts now angled to perfectly hit your g spot every time.

The only way to describe this was euphoric. You felt your lip split due to how hard you were biting, copper flooding your mouth but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You like that baby? S’tight for me.” The moan you let out was pornagraphic, and not quiet in any way. That’s what caused Kun to open the shared bedroom door, an obvious frown on his face that quickly melted away to shock at your compromised position. You closed your eyes reflexively, expecting YangYang to stop or even slow down, but you really didn’t want him to. Your orgasm was so close, and who knows how much longer YangYang would go if you stopped due to your unexpected guest.

Thankfully, he didn’t stop. Only staring at Kun until he squeaked out an apology and slammed the door shut behind him.

That’s a problem for a different day, for now all you could focus on was the wonderful feeling of your toes curling as your orgasm finally washed over you.

#kpop smut #kpop reactions #wayv reactions #qian kun #ten lee #ten chittaphon #winwin #dong sicheng #wong lucas #wong xuxi #wong yukhei #Xiao dejun #yangyang #hendery #wong kunhang #reader x idol #kpop imagines

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Mission Shenanigans

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings | smut, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Word count | 2385

Summary | while on a mission undercover, you and Bucky are forced to share a bed. Very dirty things ensue

Masterlist

"If we're just pretending to be a couple, why do we have to actually sleep in the same bed? Do you really think they're going to break in and catch on of us sleeping on the sofa?" You scoffed, hands perched on your hips and as shook your head at the super soldier in front of you.

"Maybe." Bucky smirked, his answer short but almost full of a lingering promise of more. You rolled your eyes at him, itching to slap that cocky smirk off his face and also maybe accidentally let his cock slip into your mouth whilst doing so. Oops.

You couldn't help it, really. I mean, Bucky is gorgeous. He truly is a specimen, all muscles and cocky smirks and metal arms. Oh and the metal arm? You were dying to know how the metal felt against your skin, against your lips - your lower lips-

"You there doll?" You were grabbed from your little train of thoughts (sinful thoughts at that) by the man in front of you snapping his fingers in your face.

"S-sorry. Lost in thought. What were you saying?" You stuttered, cheeks flushing pink as you averted your gaze to a vase on the table that suddenly became awfully captivating.

"I said that we should go out and get some wood for the fire before it gets dark." Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes now when you hummed in agreement whilst nodding absent-mindedly.

You were on a mission to get some info on a potential lead on a rising HYDRA group in southern France. You were in a cabin like area near some forest that almost seemed out of place, posing as a young couple that was newly wed and wanted a honey moon abroad. So far you pulled off the part perfectly, playing the most stereotypically-American tourists in Europe you could be. You got overly excited at the smallest things, told everyone you spoke to that you adored their accent, insisted on eating at French restaurants only, and local ones of course.

It was the perfect ploy - the only downfall being Bucky's metal arm causing him to stick out like a sore-thumb. So the super soldier has been miserable in public, roasting in the summer sun whilst clad in leather gloves and long-sleeve shirts.

What you had failed to mention to him that the sight of droplets of sweat collecting along his brow and sliding slowly down his neck got you all hot and bothered. So hot and bothered, in fact, that you found yourself desperate to stick your hand between your legs to quell the growing ache blossoming there.

But you couldn't because Bucky was insisting that you both share a bed. Originally, you had just planned on taking the sofa in the other room and get yourself off but that plans obviously gone out the window.

"Right, well. We should go now." Bucky said, cutting through the awkward silence that had settled comfortably between you two. He grabbed your arm, tugging you out the small cabin and towards the woods.

So, three hours later, you found yourself full of food, groaning with the amount to had consumed. Chewing your last bite, you set your cutlery down on you plate, which was almost immediately swiped by Bucky.

"With cooking like that, you've just become my most dangerous friend, Barnes." You chided, a smile finding your face when he chuckled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling adorably. He set your plate with his in the sink, turning on the water and drizzling some dish soap into the basin. He sipped his hands quickly on a towel before discarding it on the work surface and turning to face you.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it, doll." He smiled, arms crossing over his chest. With the hot summer heat, he'd changed into a tank top almost the second you entered the cabin, so his bulging bicep was on display as well as that metal arm that you adored. His hair was thrown into a bun at the back of his head, a few framing pieces fallen out around his face and it made him look beautiful.

"I'm gonna go shower whilst you clean up." You suddenly announced, pushing up from your chair and bursting from the room. You walked swiftly down the hall, into the bedroom to grab a towel before you were entering the adjoining bathroom.

You moaned as the warm water soothed your aching muscles, the steam clouding up the bathroom as you hummed the song that'd been stuck in your head for god knows how long. Taking a deep sigh, you massaged the shampoo into your hair, the feeling of your nails scraping against your scalp a welcome one.

After washing the suds from your hair and wiping down your body with a sponge and some lemon scented soap, you shut the water off and pulled back the curtain of the shower. Careful not to trip as you stepped out of the tub, you grabbed the fluffy white towel sat waiting for you on the counter and patted your hair until it was only damp, before drying off your body. You wrapped the cloth around you, holding it up just above your breast, clutching it there so I didn't fall down as you tiptoed back into the bedroom.

The door whined is I opened, the handle banging against the wall as you crept into the room.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smirked, lounging on the bed and resting in his palms. Your eyes bugged out of your skull, you jumped slightly, the shock of seeing him there shirtless and with sweatpants handing loose over his hips caused your grip on the towel to stop long enough for it to fall. Bucky smoothed his tongue of his lip, biting down on it as his eyes roamed your body.

You were still in shock, not moving from where you stood, towel bundled at your feet and arms awkwardly by your sides. Bucky whistled, slowly standing and taking a few strides so he was stood in front of you.

"You look even better than I thought you would." He mumbled, licking his lips again before his hands found purchase on your hips. His eyes were searching you, blue edges fading as black lust petered out from his pupils. Your breathing was heavy, mind foggy but all you could comprehend was the half-naked super soldier stood in front of your naked form, hands - one comfortingly warm one chillingly cold - resting on the bare skin of your hips.

And I just made you needy and slick with want. And that had to be the cause of the words that found themselves upon your lips. Your eyes flickered between his and his lips - his soft, plump pink lips - that were just begging you to kiss them.

"If you don't kiss me in the next three second I'm going to scream." You murmured and he breathed a laugh through his nose before his lips crashed to yours in a lustful, earth-shattering kiss. Bucky's hands travelled over your sides, squeezing your waist before going higher until one wrapped around your neck possessively, using the grip he had to walk you back until your back came into contact with the door you had entered from, his metal hand bracing against the wood for support.

Your moan let him know it was exactly what you wanted and Bucky tightened his grip slightly on your neck, a gentle squeeze to test the waters that had you groaning against his lips. He tilted his head to the side, feeling the kiss even further. It was a dirty, messy, sloppy thing - all teeth and tongue and unadulterated desire. When his lips finally left yours, they trailed down your neck, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses over your throat and your collar bone. A hand found it's way between your quaking legs, finding nothing by slick and slippery skin as the tips brushed through the collecting wetness at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the feeling, letting his digits dance through the liquid before one was slipping into your quivering hole.

"Bucky!" You gasped, hands reaching up, grabbing and clawing at his shoulders for purchase as his thumb connected with your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked violently into his hand, a low and rumbling chuckle falling from those perfect, pink lips. Another finger entered you, both of them curling - curling just right, hitting that spot deep within you.

You came with a  cry and shaky legs, your body falling limply into Bucky's as he retracted his fingers, revelling in the wanton look in your eyes as he licked them clean.

"Delicious." He hummed, pulling off his fingers with a pop. Before you could protest, the brunet had scooped you into his arms, hoisting up up with his hands under your ass - groping and squeezing as he pinned you to the wall with his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck by now, fingers tangling into his long, brown hair as his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, Bucky, please." You begged, but you weren't really sure what you were asking for.

"You want me to fuck you?" He whispered in your ear, a moan slipping past your lips. "You want me to fuck you in the middle of a mission like a whore?" He husked and you moaned even louder - knowing the word should offend you but it did anything but, the combined sensation of his hot breath fanning over your cheeks, his prominent bulge pressed to your folds and his hands resting on your bare sides overwhelming your senses. His hands moved down, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats before he was pulling away slightly, pushing them and his boxers down his legs eagerly. You brought a hand down too, letting your fingers trail over his abs before you were marvelling at his cock - hard and leaking, red tip curved up against his stomach - which was now smeared with Previn that you were desperate to lick off. But he wouldn't let you from his grasp.

Instead, you both let out a moan when your small hand wrapped around Bucky's cock, Bucky shivering slightly at the coldness of you palm. He kissed you again hard, tongue smoothing over your lips before it was pushing its way into your mouth, tangling with yours and stroking over the muscle in languid strokes. You fisted his hair, relishing in the groan he let out as you tugged. You smiled into the kiss at his reaction, but pulled away to squeal his thumb flitted over your clit again.

Bucky moaned when his tip ran through your wetness, hand wrapping around his length as he lined himself up with your core. Bucky leant in, pecking your lips.

"Ready?" He mumbled and you moaned his name, letting out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside of you in one sharp thrust.

"Fuck, Bucky!" You moaned and he let his thumb rest on your clit, teasing circles rubbed over it making the knot in your stomach forms already, blue eyes now turned black as he looked into yours.

"I want you to come around my cock, pretty girl" He murmured, forehead resting against your as he begun to thrust. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin only spurring Bucky on as his pace became slow but strong, knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust. His breath was hot on your cheeks, eyes keeping yours prisoner and a small layer of sweat coated your faces.

The whole scene was erotic, so it only pushed your further to the edge when he began moaning and groaning, your own sounds vibrating around the room. Your fingers traced over the scars littering his shoulder, before clinging to the cool metal and moaning out at the contrast against your flushed and hot skin.

"Good girl." He moaned, the praise sending a new wave of wetness tumbling down to your core, his cock pushing in and out of you effortlessly now with how much lubrication you were supplying. Bucky's hand moved from the door, fingers wrapping a round your throat again and pushing your head back against the wood.

"This pussy's gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart, so fuckin' hard." He mumbled into the skin of your neck, dropping his head to nip and suck at your jaw line. You knew there'd be marks there tomorrow, but you couldn't care less in that moment as your walls began to clamp down on his in a vice grip.

"C'mon, cum for me. I can feel how close you are." Bucky moaned and your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, eyes rolling back into your skull, his pace picking up as he tried to push you to your release.

When you came it was a mind-shattering orgasm, eyes rolling back and hips bucking, stomach tight and legs shaking around his waist.

"There we go, good girl." Bucky groaned, chasing his own release now as he used you for his own pleasure. "Shit, y/n." He moaned, stilling his hips as a final thrust sent him over the edge, cumming in you in hot spurts.

Your breaths mingled, the smell of sex invading your senses as you head dropped forward to lean against Bucky's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Buck, that was-" you panted.

"Amazing? The best sex of your life?" He supplied, hand massaging your hip as you both calmed down.

"Something like that." You giggled. He chuckled too, and you gasped as he felt him thrust shallowly into you again. How was he already hard again? You figured that the serum must have affected everything. You groaned, and Bucky smirked down at you.

"Ready for round two?" He asked, walking with you in his grasp over to the bed.

"If anyone does break in tonight, they're in for one hell of a show." You smiled weakly, Bucky dropping you into the sheets and crawling over you.

"They sure are, Doll."

#smut #image #images #marvel #steve rogers #marvel smut #captain america #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #Sebastian Stan image #marve image #avengers smut #avengers #the avengers #marvel actors #marvel fanfic

[jadequeen88]

A Waitress’ Worst Nightmare

A/N: Written for the BNHA Degeneracy 9-5 collab! THIS IS 18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: TW.sexual harassment, TW.oral(recieving), TW.degredation TW.nipple play, TW.Mommy kink

Pairing: busboy!Keigo, linecook!Dabi, f!waitress!Reader

You’re a college student just trying to get by. The biggest worry you should have right now is if you had enough time to finish that psych paper or when you were going to meet up with your calculus study group. Instead, you’ve got a much larger problem facing you...A problem that has permeated through every aspect of your life. Your coworkers were Grade-A-Assholes who decided making your life miserable was on the top of their to do lists.

You thought waitressing at the 24/7 diner downtown would be a breeze. Money was tight and since you were 21 and almost done with your undergrad, you wanted a little more financial independence. Little did you know when the owner hired you that you’d have to work alongside the two biggest shitheads in the city.

First there’s Keigo. To the untrained eye, he could almost seem charming. But you found out pretty quickly what a dick he was. He was working as a “busboy”, but in reality he didn’t do anything but flirt with every woman within his field of vision. Keigo would leave the tables a mess until there wasn’t a clean one left in your station and you’d be forced to do his job for him.

“What, babe? Stop getting your panties in a twist. I’m real busy these days. You know I’m practically running this place now.”

Oh yeah. How could you forget? He took every opportunity to remind you of that fact. Keigo’s dad happened to be buddies with the owner, garnering a sense of trust with the old man. He slowly weaseled his way into running day-to-day operations while the elderly owner stayed home most days.

Although the diner needed another busboy to pick up his slack, Keigo refused to tell the boss to hire another. You overheard a phone conversation between Keigo and your boss just last night:

“Nah, boss. We’ve got it covered here. No need to hire another busboy. The waitresses are just finding reasons to nag. Women, am I right?”

You were fuming.

***

As bad as Keigo was, his friend Dabi was exponentially worse. The line cook was, without a doubt, a drug dealer. The only motive he could possibly have for working there is having a place to do business with his “customers”(and of course, to help Keigo make your life a living hell). It clearly wasn’t because he needed the money since you’d seen his “friends” slip him generous wads of cash when they stopped by the restaurant. If cleaning up Keigo’s messes sucked, trying to put in customer’s orders with Dabi was pure torture. 

“Eggs over easy instead of scrambled? I dunno, Princess. Sounds like it’ll be a pain in my ass. Whatcha gonna give me if I do it?”

Then he’d lick his lips with his long pierced tongue, leering at you over the counter. Gag... You wondered if that ever actually worked in his favor. 

One semi-decent thing you can say about Keigo is that he’d never actually laid a finger on you. The same can’t be said for Dabi. You learned after your first day to wear shorts under the skirt of your uniform. You were behind the counter slicing lemons when he took his spatula and lifted the hem of your skirt. Before you realized what he was doing, he was calling out to his partner in crime.

“Fuuuuuck, Kei! Look at the ass on the new girl!”

You wondered what was going on until you felt a breeze and realized it was your ass that was on display. You’d slapped the spatula away and straightened your skirt, but not before they both got an eyeful of your black, lace panties. You cried for ten minutes in the bathroom after your shift that day.

***

The day you’d been dreading was finally upon you. No, it wasn’t a big test or project due... You had to ask off work for your cousin’s wedding. That meant dealing with Keigo (who was now in charge of making the schedule each week).

You squared your shoulders and went over what you would say over, and over in your head so you wouldn’t stumble over your words when you had to face him. 

“I need to have Saturday off for my cousin’s wedding. I can work the Sunday morning shift instead.”

This was repeated on a loop in your brain as you walked down the darkened corridor towards the office. You let out a long sigh and gently rapped your knuckles against the wooden frame. The sound of shuffling and muffled voices seeped through the thin faux wood and a moment later, the door swung inward. The thick cloud of smoke and strong, skunky smell almost knocked you flat on your ass. Instead of seeing Keigo alone working on the schedule, you saw that he and Dabi were hotboxing in the small office.

Knowing they were back here getting high while you closed the diner by yourself was the last straw. You slam the door behind you and stomp forward to lean over the desk Keigo was propped up behind.

“Listen you shit heads!” you slammed you fists on the desk knocking over a jar of pens. “I am so fucking sick of slaving away in this shit hole while you two get high and fuck off back here. You’re going to let me have Saturday off or I swear to Christ, I’m calling the boss and spilling my guts! About the weed, the drug deals, the snarky remarks, the groping, EVERYTHING! I’ve had enough!”

There was a moment of silence then the two of them burst into a fit of laughter. In a blind fit of rage, you leap across the desk and grab Keigo by the throat. When you made contact and squeezed as hard as your small hand would allow, a whimper escaped his throat and his eyes rolled back.

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you gripped your fingers tightly again to see if you could pull any more sounds from him. He didn’t disappoint. This time it was a whimper followed by him nervously mumbling.

“Heh, Kid... Seriously, knock it off. This shit isn’t funny.”

Your eyes traveled down the front of his body and when they landed on the crotch of his baggy khakis, your suspicions were confirmed. This loser who acted like a certified pussy-slayer popped a boner just from you choking him.

You leaned in close to his face, using this as your chance to get revenge for all the hell he had put you through. “Aww little Keigo... Not used to being roughed up?” you cooed. “Dumb little baby Keigo...I bet if I kept this up, you’d come in your pants like a dirty slut, wouldn’t you?”

You felt movement over your shoulder and heard a deep chuckle. “Dude you’re so pathe-”

Dabi gasped as you grabbed him by the crotch with your free hand and squeezed. He was already hard. You met his eyes and see panic etched across his features. A sadistic grin spread across your mouth as you tightened your grip. His head fell back and let out a whimper almost as needy as Keigo’s. 

“You’re both going to do exactly what I say or I swear, I will tell every girl you ever try to speak to what a couple of pathetic virgins you two are...”

***

“Ungh! Plea-please... Harder! I... I need more!”

*SMACK*

Your hand lands hard across the blonde’s face, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat. He thrust his weeping cock along your shin whimpering, craving more pressure to relieve his suffering.

“You don’t get to tell me what you need, Keigo. Shut your fucking mouth and be grateful you get this much.”

You throw your head back against the office chair and hum as Dabi eats your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Mmm... See Keigo? See what a good boy Dabi is being? He knows his stupid mouth is only meant for one thing... Making Mommy’s pussy feel good.”

The praise causes the dark haired man between your thighs to moan into your clit sending a pulse of pleasure through your lower body. The ball of his piercing circles your clit and you feel the familiar ache of an impending orgasm begin to tighten in your belly.

Keigo starts shoving Dabi away from you with a growl. “This is bullshit! I haven’t even had a chance yet!”

Dabi elbows him, ”Fuck off Kei! I almost had her finished off!”

Furious from being jerked back from the edge of your orgasm, you grab a fist full of blonde hair in one hand and black in the other. You pull their flushed faces up to look you in the eye.

“If you want to come at all, you will shut...the fuck...up... and get me off. Now”

Dabi wasted no time in diving back into your dripping slit, panting heavily while he ran his pierced tongue in and out of your swollen entrance. Keigo attacked your neck, whimpering as he planted sloppy kisses down your collarbone until his tongue was licking long stripes up you clothed nipple.

“I think you can do a little better than that, baby,’ you cooed into Keigo’s messy blonde tresses, sweetly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He took that as his cue to remove the clothing between your hardening bud and his hot, wet tongue.

Keigo latched onto your nipple, nursing it with vigor while he gently grazed his fingertips over the other. You heard him mumble something into the soft swell of your breast.

“Speak up,” you pull him away from your nipple with a pop, “I didn’t catch that...”

“I-I said... I...”

Your attention was drawn to the man between your legs as he began to suck down hard on your clit. The hand you had wrapped in Keigo’s hair tightened causing him to cry out.

“Mommy! Please! Wanna be your good boy! Wanna make Mommy come...” He sobs as he starts frantically licking and sucking your neglected nipple. This pushes you over the edge and your long awaited orgasm rushes over you. 

After you come down from your high, you push them off and begin getting dressed while the two men you left on the floor look up at you with wide eyes.

Dabi, still panting from eating you so vigorously, chokes out a little half sob.

“But.. where are you goin? We did what you asked!”

“Yeah babe! what the fuck!”

You eyed both men and let the tension hang in the air before turning and walking to the door.

“Give me the whole weekend off. Then we’ll arrange something Monday,” you look over your shoulder, “As long as you don’t piss me off before then..”

You walk out of the office with the biggest grin you’ve had in a long time and feeling a lot more relaxed. Maybe this job was going to turn out better than you expected. 

#bnha dabi #bnha smut #dabi x you #hawks x y/n #tw mommy kink #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha hawks #mha x reader #bnha reader insert #jade writes smut

[bucksfucks]

         amorosa // steve rogers

chapter seven: scattered touches

 chapter one // chapter two // chapter three    

     chapter four // chapter five // chapter six

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

                            series masterlist

summary || three months after you’d called it quits with steve you realise you miss him more than you thought you would.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader

word count || 1,979 words

warnings || sugar daddy/sugar baby themes, financial issues, undefined age gap, sloppy car sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, angst, fluff — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || yes this is full of cliches and tropes, let me live out my fantasy hehe

     It was easy for the days to turn into weeks and the weeks into months. With nothing to ground you to reality, life felt like it was slipping through your fingers; not that you really minded. 

    Moving out of Steve’s place was by far the most miserable you had been. 

    He wasn’t there, you weren’t sure if he even lived there anymore. 

    Steve had let work consume him just like you had let your thoughts consume you. 

    Three months passed, in the time you had managed to find a new apartment for yourself. A good, fun job that you actually liked. A job where you wouldn’t have to run around waiting on tables of rich men.

    A job that wouldn’t remind you of Steve. 

    “Do you ever wonder how he’s doing?” Simoné’s voice filled the cozy kitchen the two of you shared. 

    She was still working at the restaurant, but she always enjoyed it more than you ever did. 

    “Nope.”

    Yes you do. You lie awake wondering who he’s with now. If he’s found someone else to spoil.

    “I can tell when you’re lying to me,” she chuckled, giving you a knowing look over her shoulder. 

    You sighed, a sympathetic smile on your face as you knew she was just trying to be a good friend and help you. 

    It was pasta night which meant you were on noodles and she was on sauce. 

    That’s the one good thing about working at a restaurant, the cooks are nice enough to give you free cooking tips. 

    “I do, yeah,” you admit, “I just hate that I do.” 

    She nods, a warm hand on your shoulder as she plates some food for the both of you as you open a bottle of wine, pouring two generous glasses. 

    “He never said anything about Peggy?” She asked as you grimaced at the sound of the other woman’s name. 

    “She was his wife, they ended on bad terms, and that she’s definitely not one to mess with. That’s all I know.” You sighed as you fell into one of the dining room chairs. 

    Simoné gave you a look that said she had more questions, questions that you probably didn’t have answers to. 

    “Peter was nice enough to offer getting some more information on her, but,” you stopped, the sound of your ringtone filling the small apartment. 

    You picked it up, seeing Steve’s name pop up.

    There were no emoji’s, no sign that you had ever been in a relationship of any sorts with him. 

    “I’m not picking it up.” You told Simoné as she rolled her eyes, “you know curiosity killed the cat, but the answer brought it back.”

    You narrowed your eyes, gnawing on your lip as the device vibrated in your hand. 

    “Fine,” you groaned, swiping across the screen and quickly retreating to your room as Simoné shouted various words of encouragement. 

    “Steve what is it?” You said, perhaps a little harshly as you heard a soft sigh on the other end. 

    “Sweetheart, just let me explain everything. Please, I know I sure as hell don’t deserve this chance, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

    His voice was low and sweet, slightly hoarse as you hated to admit that you missed the sound of it. 

    There was a hollow feeling inside of you ever since you, in a way, broke up with Steve. 

    “One cup of coffee.” You said, trying to hold back the emotions in your voice. 

    “One cup of coffee.” He echoed your words, your stomach fluttering as you heard him chuckle, “that’s all I’ll need.” 

    “That’s all you’ll get, Rogers.” You chid back, playful edge in your voice before you hung up the phone in an attempt to put together what you were about to do.

~

    Leave it to Steve to pick the fanciest, classiest, and nicest café in all of New York to take you to. 

    You still felt out of place, the hoodie you were wearing must’ve been a dead giveaway that yes, it was your first time here. 

    Yet, you couldn’t stop the feeling of excitement as you lifted your head each time a new patron entered the small shop. 

    It never ended up being Steve. 

    Until it did. 

    He walked in wearing nothing less than what you expected; a neatly tailored suit, polished shoes, and the posture of a Greek god. 

    Fuck. 

    You, along with everyone else, had their eyes on Steve as he stalked through the tables and stopped in front of you. He bent down, placing a kiss to each cheek, “how are you?”

    “Fine,” you replied, slightly mesmerized by his presence.

    He smiled, taking a seat across from you before a waiter quickly took both of your orders, Steve reciting yours from memory. 

    “How’ve you been, sweetheart?” He asked, the pet-name making your heart ache as you didn’t realize how much it would affect you. 

    “Okay, living with Simoné now. And uh, I got a job too, so it’s been good.” You told him, and you weren’t lying. 

    He nodded his head, eyes trained on you as your cup of coffee was placed in front of you.

    “Have you been?” You asked the dreaded question, figuring it was now or never to rip off the bandaid and find out if he’s been seeing someone new. 

    He sighed, running his fingers through his hair; a nervous habit. 

    “I’ve been better,” he gave you a tired smile, taking a sip of his coffee as he leaned on his elbows in an attempt to get closer to you. 

    His musky cologne washed over you, it wasn’t the same one from before. 

    You didn’t know why it broke your heart. 

    “I’m sorry to hear that,” you said, not really knowing how else to fill the silence. 

    He chuckled, “I’ve missed you, you were always so,” he trailed off, “polite.”

    It didn’t take much to realise it was a euphemism and you had to fight back a shiver. 

    You swallowed thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as Steve leaned in closer. 

    “Let’s cut to the chase, yeah?” He asked and you nodded, eyes darting around the little café suddenly feeling as if all eyes were on you. 

    You sat and you talked, you took turns listening, a pastry and a few cups of coffee later, you felt like the old Steve, your Steve, was back and sitting in front of you. 

    “I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart. Peggy,” he whispered her name like it was a curse, “is a part of my past, my past that I wish I could erase.” 

    You wanted to reach over and hold his hand, your fingers twitching and aching for him warmth, but you stopped yourself. 

    “My intentions were never to hurt you, I’ve always wanted to protect you.”

    “You lost my trust, Steve,” you almost whispered as his eyes softened. 

    “I’m not asking you to forgive me, all I want is to know you’re safe and taken care of.” 

    You nodded your head, averting your eyes as you fiddled with the rings on your fingers. This was the Steve you fell in love with. 

    “Can I give you a ride home? It’s getting late and I hate the thought of you on the subway alone at night.” 

    You nodded your head, grabbing your things and following Steve out as you let his words replay in your head. 

    You were on autopilot as he opened the door of his car, a new one by the looks of it as you crawled inside. 

    The drive back was quiet, the subtle roar of his engine mixed with soft music consumed you both as you slowly relaxed into the seat. 

    “Right here?” Steve’s voice brought you back to reality as he pulled up outside of you apartment building, “the one and only.” You chuckled, the first time you had smiled a genuine, carefree smile that night. 

    “I would invite you up, but I think Simoné has an early morning tomorrow.” You said, a small flame erupting inside of you.

    The tension between the two of you had been thick ever since you got into the car. Steve nodded his head, “no worries, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

    You didn’t want to leave, your brain telling you to tell him goodnight, but your body wanted to pull him in by his tie and let him taste you. 

    “You okay there, sweetheart?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips as you shook your head, “yeah, uhm, just thinking.” 

    He hummed, “what about?” 

    You could feel his breath over your face as he leaned in, yours shaky as you met his eyes.

    “Just stuff,” you could barely get the words out before his lips sealed yours. 

    You gasped into his kiss, your fingers going to tangle in his collar, pulling at his tie as he hummed. 

    “Did you miss me, Princess? Did you miss Daddy?” You whimpered at his words, skin feeling on fire as he let his hands roam up your arms. 

    “Daddy sure as hell missed you,” her growled, pulling you over his lap quickly as you let out a squeak, laughing as the way his tie got tangled in your hoodie strings. 

    Your laughter was short lived, a moan replacing it as he ground your hips over his. 

    “Fuck,” your words were strangled as he gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your neck, “that’s it baby, feel what you do to me? How fuckin’ hard my cock is for you already?”

    You shivered, your head falling onto his shoulder as you whined. 

    “Shh, it’s okay, Daddy’s here, ‘m right here,” he whispered, “let me take care of you.” 

    He cradled your face, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, “please.” You croaked, throat dry before his lips were on yours once again. 

    “Wanna feel you,” you nearly begged, both of your hips rocking against each other as he threw his head back. 

    His lips were red, wet, and slightly swollen as his tie hung loosely around his neck as he made quick work of his belt. 

    “Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, “that’s what you want? Need Daddy’s cock?” He cooed as he slipped your leggings down one of your legs, not bothering with the other.

    It was a tight, crammed space, both your backs would feel it tomorrow, but in the moment, neither of you cared. 

    “Move your panties to the side, that’s it, Princess,” he praises, feeling the head of his cock at your entrance as you throw your head back.

    Sinking onto him has you breathless, nothing else mattering as he fills you up and grips at your hips like he’s afraid to lose you again.

    “Fuck, I-I thought I’d lost you,” he pants as you move your hips over him, “thought I lost the one good thing in my life.” He admits, your heart skipping a beat as your bodies move in sync with each other. 

    You press your forehead against his, the feeling of his warm skin enough to bring a tear to your eyes as he rocks you against him. 

    It’s embarrassing how close you are, but you didn’t realise how much you’d needed to be touched. Not be anyone, but by Steve. 

    “Want you to come for Daddy, don’t hold back,” he grunts, eyebrows knit tightly together as you both sloppily reach your highs in just a matter of minutes. 

    You’re left panting, the windows foggy as Steve presses kisses to your face. 

    You don’t care about the implications, not wanting anything or anyone other than Steve right now.

    It’s a cool night when you finally step out, Steve doing the same before he’s pulling you into one last kiss as he watches you walk away. 

    You give him one last look over your shoulder, “hey Steve?”

    His head perks up, “call me.”

tagging //  @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers | @vollzeitliebe | @kelbabyblue | @jevans2 | @babyyhoneyydarling | @cloudystevie | @lahoete | @speechlessxx | @aikeia

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers au #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers drabble

[midoriyas-wifey]

Going for a Ride

Pairing: Shoto x fem! reader

Rating: E

Summary: shoto is an insatiable little prick and decides to pound y/n out in the front seat of his car. pure pwp

Word count: 1.3k

“I need to fuck you,”

The soda Y/N had purchased back at the gas station a few miles previous sprayed out of her mouth in shock.

“You what,” She rasped, wiping her lips and looking at him. He didn’t even glance over, ever the picture of nonchalance. His eyes remained fixed on the road, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

Shoto shrugged, finally peering over at her. “Yeah, you look hot right now, and I want to fuck. What wasn’t clear?”

It was true, she wasn’t wearing her typical attire due to the heat. It was the middle of the summer and they were taking a road trip Vegas per her request (begging for 2 months). It was hot, miserably so; and so she was wearing a tank top with tiny spandex shorts. Not very smart considering she could feel her thighs sticking to the car seat.

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

He started to slow down and pull over on the side of the deserted road. After pulling to a stop, he turned to her, a look of salacious hunger on his face. Shoto then took the liberty of unbuckling her still-in-shock form, tugging on her arm to try and get her attention.

“Y/N, please?”

This immediately broke her out of her trance, not used to hearing that word from him. Deciding to just go with it, which seemed to be a common theme in their relationship, she rolled her shoulders and swung her thigh over him, sitting astride his obvious bulge

His hands came up and gripped her hips then trailed down, squeezing her round ass and thighs. She rolled her hips, sensually dipping forward and down. Shoto let out a faint groan with a murmured, “Shit, such a good girl.”

His hands snap the elastic waistband of her (barely qualifying as) shorts. A sharp icicle juts from his hand, slicing through her bottoms with practiced expertise. She still had her shirt on, which she planned on keeping that way, just in case anyone tried to get an eyeful.

Shoto didn't bother to remove her panties, pushing them to the side and stroking a finger over her slowly-glossing slit before shallowly slipping it inside of her little cunny. She shuddered from the coolness of his finger, a sharp contrast to her hot insides. One red brow rose, a ghost of a smirk creeping up his gorgeous face.

“For someone who was resisting, you sure are wet,”

“Quit being a smug bastard and dick me down already!” she huffed, not liking being called out one bit.

“As you command, Y/N.”

He reached to the fly of his pants, unbuttoning them and letting his dick spring free. He stroked his dick over her clit several times before lining himself up with her. He slowly pressed the thick head to her soft lips. Shoto shallowly thrusted up into her, letting his head pop in. Her face flickered between pleasure and frustration, a cute pout on her mouth. Y/N tried to push her hips down, but she was no match against his steel grip keeping her in place.

“Is there something you want to tell me,Y/N?” His smirk spread to a full blown shark grin, all teeth, eyes glittering with lust. A rare sight for anyone but his dirty little girl.

He had her soft body completely under his giant hands’ control, despite her being on top. She would move how he wanted her to and when he wanted her to. He continued his sluggish and shallow pace, relishing every second of her torment. Needless to say, Shoto could be a sadistic son of a bitch. Her panting and squirming became more apparent after a minute or two of this treatment.

“Beg me. Tell me how much you need this dick to

destroy my sweet little pussy,” He spoke sinfully against her ear. Arrogant prick.

Despite him talking like this every time they fucked, her face filled with a rush of blood and heat. She whined, not wanting to submit to him. Both of them knew that it was in vain, as his self control far outweighed her own.

“Give in little girl, I can do this all day.”

A pathetic whine escaped her throat before she whimpered, “Please…”

He finally pulled her down onto him, seating himself so deeply she could feel his balls against her ass and head squishing against her cervix. Y/N flinched slightly and squirmed from the almost too-full sensation. Meanwhile, Shoto couldn’t be happier; in her attempt to accommodate him, her little cunny was flexing and fluttering around his cock like mad.

Her deep sigh let him know that she had adjusted, and he was free to continue. Her hands came up and gripped his shoulders for stability.

His hands still held a firm grip on her hips, grinding her clit against him, just enough to keep her stimulated but not anywhere near satisfied. “Please what?” he breathed, watching her eyelids flutter.

“Are you really gonna make me say it?” She whined.

He chuckled, one hand coming up to cup her chin in affection. Another pout took over her lips, his condescending display was enough to let her know what he thought. Her head tipped back in resignation.

“Shoto, please fuck me,” She mumbled.

He bucked up harshly once, twice, and then stopped again. She squealed from the sudden movement, almost tipping backwards. “C’mon Y/N, you can do better than that.” Shoto was now rocking gently with the intent of driving her crazy, of that she was sure. Slick noises were now filling the car, turning her face even hotter than before.

“Listen to that Y/N, I can hear what my pretty little pussy wants, all you have to do is say it and mean it.” He made it sound so easy. God, her whole body was burning; she couldn’t handle this.

“Fucking damn it Shoto! I want you to fuck me so hard we make this car rock!” She cried, grinding down on him for dear life.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he purred.

His hips immediately picked up a harsh pace while simultaneously bringing her hips down on him, the messy sounds filling the car along with her punctured breaths and girlish ‘ah ah ahs’. He was hitting all the best places inside her, it was so overwhelming. She could feel a wail tearing up her throat, one she couldn't hold back even if she wanted to. He released one of her hips to bring down his fingers to torment her poor puffy clit. Her thighs and stomach were quivering, her whole body jolting from the white hot tension building in her gut. It pooled up like magma, both far too fast and not nearly quick enough. The coil finally- blessedly snapped, sending heat and pleasure roaring through every vein in her body. After thoroughly creaming on his dick, she slumped forward, fully resting on him. Her heart was racing and she was breathing heavily, like she had just run a race.

She flinched and squirmed, feeling too full and sensitive after how intense her climax was. Her eyelids fluttered, a small whimper escaping her at Shoto’s unrelenting pummeling of her sloppy insides.

“Please,” She slurred breathlessly, “Can’ take any more, s’too much” He paused his hips, as if considering her request.

Shoto’s hand stroked over her hair, pulling it back and exposing her throat. He pressed his lips to her neck, grinning against her. She could feel his teeth against her, like that of a predator waiting to bite. He raised her up ever so slowly on his dick, before plunging her back down with all his might, the wet smack of skin meeting skin deafening in her ears as her breath got pushed from her lungs.

“Little girl, I'm not even close to being done with you.”

@shorkbrian

#todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #bnha smut #bnha lemon #shoto smut #todoroki smut

[raleighcarrera]

saved by the bell

foreign affairs | m!blaine hayes x mc (kennedy monroe)

blaine springs kennedy from her date in chapter 10.

catch up: knockout (E) / on the ropes (T) / outpoint (T) / parry (E) / pulling punches (T) / ringside (T)

tagging: @pixeljazzy ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixelsandkink ; @writinghereandthere ; @choicesarehard ; @dakotawinchester ; @flyawayboo ; @withbeautyandrage ; @blainehellyes ; @levineseth ; @gryffindordaughterofathena ; @thefirstcourtesan ; @josieplayschoices 

~3.5k words | T

he’s not going to look.

no matter how much his phone lights up with incoming notification after incoming notification, he’s not going to look. blaine refuses to torture himself by checking for photos of kennedy’s date, though his curiosity is eating him alive.

it’s a nice reprieve from worrying about her, at any rate, even if it is maddening.

lately it feels like all he’s done is worry about her, though that’s mostly because kennedy looks to be about an inch away from tears every time she’s around -- not that it’s often, anymore. there’s absolutely nothing worse than seeing her suffer from the sidelines; he still feels just as helpless as he did when he watched her give that first disastrous press conference in his dorm, the day after the pictures hit voyeur. 

it’s unbelievably frustrating, being forced to sit on his hands and watch everyone else try to control her life. kennedy’s under a microscope like neither of them have ever been before, and for the first time in his life, he’s in the uncomfortable position of having to be careful -- not because he gives a shit about himself or his own reputation, but because of her, and what it might do to her if he was reckless.

he’s bitten his tongue more times in the last week than he has in his entire life. it’d taken every last ounce of his self control not to snap and defend kennedy at the pet store, not to panic when she’d clued him in on her mom’s newest pr strategy, not to keep her locked in the teacher’s lounge with him for the rest of the semester and refuse to let her go when she snuck out to meet him.

already he knows he’ll never forget the names and faces of the classmates of theirs that’d picked on her. if he ever really does wind up in charge in ardona, one day, he’ll come to power with a ready-made list of enemies, all because of the way they’d made her look when she sunk down low into her seat in class, her shoulders hunched in shame.

he’s laying in bed, moping miserably, thinking over it all when peter pokes his head in with a hesitant knock. “how’re you holding up?” he asks, tactfully, given that blaine’s pretty sure he looks utterly awful. “those daily post photos were... rough.”

blaine groans, burying his face in his hands. “i’m not looking at them. i don’t want to know.”

“that’s probably for the best,” peter says sympathetically, and that does it -- seals the deal completely. he reaches for his phone, snatching it off the nightstand.

dionne’s also texted him, which means the photos are as bad as he’s hoping they won’t be. his stomach twists into knots as he navigates to his favorite gossip site, certain the pictures he’s looking for will be plastered all over the homepage.

sure enough -- there they are: kennedy and alexei, huddled together outside of some swanky restaurant, hand-in-hand. she’s all dressed up for the occasion, because with alexei she’s allowed to be; she doesn’t have to sneak out to see him, hidden under a baseball hat in some far away place where no one will recognize either of them. the point of this date is to be seen, and judging by the crowd of flashing lights surrounding them, they’ve done a perfect job selling their relationship to the press.

so the second picture accompanying the story is an unnecessary twist of the knife -- complete overkill. they’re kissing, in this one, lips pressed together chastely just outside the limo. he feels nauseous.

“they’re probably having a terrible time,” peter says, though blaine’s still staring at his phone, eyes fixed on the photo in his hands. “i heard that restaurant is horrible.”

“it’s fine,” blaine says hollowly, tapping back to his texts to answer dionne. she wants to know how he is, too, and he gives her the same answer: fine. everything is fine.

“you’re so full of shit,” dionne says, when she shows up at his dorm twenty minutes later, her arms folded across her chest and her expression unimpressed.

yeah. he forgot she knows him so well. “well -- whatever,” blaine sighs, dragging a hand down his face. it doesn’t matter. it has to not matter, for kennedy’s sake. “it’s not like i can do anything about it. this is the way it has to be.”

the look in dionne’s eyes grows distant, and he sits up slowly as a smile starts to overtake her face, cautiously optimistic while what’s obviously an evil plan begins to unfurl. “no,” dionne says, “it’s not. i think i have an idea.”

so -- that’s how he finds himself sweating through his jacket, overthinking this whole stupid plan while he waits for kennedy to slip out the back of the stupid opera house and meet him and his stupid rental car in the alley. he thinks back over all the ways they’d had to cover his tracks to get him here: how peter’d had to call in the car, how dionne’d had to threaten and sweet talk alexei at the same time, how there isn’t a single hurdle he wouldn’t leap or hoop he wouldn’t jump through for even just half an evening alone with her.

this is probably a terrible idea. at the very least, it’s dangerous, and sure to get them fucking caught again, no matter how careful they all were in making it happen.

maybe he should call the whole thing off. call dionne and get her to tell kennedy to forget it -- to go back to her date and take the easy way out, because who is he kidding, anyway?

the sound of heels on the cobblestones takes the decision swiftly out of his hands. blaine looks up to see kennedy standing in front of him, admiring the rental with a gentle smirk on her beautiful face. she looks even more ridiculously gorgeous than she had in the daily post pictures, as annoying as that is. 

she’s alone.

“no limo? that’s not very romantic, mr. hayes,” she teases playfully, mouth stretched wide with a smile.

he leans over to pop the door open for her, grinning to cover up his nerves. just having kennedy around is going a long way towards keeping him calm -- he feels undeniably more sane out here with her than he had in his room, pouting with fruitless jealousy. “take it up with dionne,” he shrugs, eyes raking up and down her outfit. she really does look nice. “now hop in.”

“we have three hours and forty-five minutes,” kennedy says helpfully, as soon as they’ve slipped out of town unseen and headed to the highway, “i have to be back by curtain.”

“i know,” blaine hums, sighing with relief as soon as he glances in the rearview mirror and sees they aren’t being followed, “dionne briefed me. she figured out a whole plan.”

“oh,” kennedy says. she sounds... happy. “that was really nice of her.” there’s a pause, and he fidgets with the steering wheel for a moment before shifting his left hand up to the top to steer so his right arm is free to drape across the back of kennedy’s seat. she leans in closer to the center console and continues, “i really wish it was you in there with me.”

he exhales heavily. more relieving than not being followed, than being with her at all is hearing that -- that he’s not alone in his insanity. lately he feels like a completely different person, and he has no idea what’s come over him, so it’s comforting to know that it’s all for something, beyond just making kennedy smile. evidently, she wants to be his stupid girlfriend just as badly as he wants her to. “me, too. you have no idea. i’ve really missed you, these past few days.”

“i know. it’s weird,” kennedy agrees, “hardly seeing you. not being able to text you, and tell you about my day... i mean -- i barely even get to talk to you, outside of class.”

yeah. he knows. and when there’s other people around he has to watch what he fucking says, too. it’s far from ideal, and he knows he’s gotten sloppy, but...

part of him almost wants someone to catch them. blaine knows it’s selfish and stupid, but he wants it all the same. because if someone found out the truth and spilled the beans... they’d be free, and the impossible decision of what to do next would be out of their hands.

he could never ask kennedy to go public on her own. he would never ask her for that, no matter how badly he wants it. but a slip-up... that would be beyond their control.

blaine shakes his head. “it’s fine,” he says again, clearing his throat, “i’ll plan some secret meet up for us every night, if you want. even if it only buys us a few minutes.”

he glances to the side just in time to catch the look that crosses her face. kennedy’s quite obviously touched by his offer, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she stares down at her hands. forcefully, he drags his eyes back to the road. “i’d really like that,” she murmurs, so quietly he almost misses it. when he only nods, she raises her voice and asks, “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he directs, taking the exit that’ll bring them to the drive-in, mentally cataloging the travel time it’d taken to get up here and making a note of the minutes he’ll need to account for to get kennedy back, especially if he has to circle the block until the street is empty before he drops her off. 

her eyes light up when he pulls into the parking lot. “a drive-in theater, seriously? i used to love going to the drive-in back home. i didn’t know they had them near vancross.” her nose is practically pressed against the window as she looks around excitedly while he idles.

“this is my first time,” blaine admits, though how eager kennedy is definitely bodes well for the experience. even if it completely sucked, he’d still bring her back every weekend, just to see her smile like that. “we don’t really have these in ardona, but dionne talked it up.”

kennedy finally peels her eyes away from the window to smile playfully at him again, her eyes sparkling. “so you’re a drive-in virgin? interesting.”

his face feels hot, suddenly. blaine rolls his eyes at her, gesturing at the map of the venue in front of them. they’re kind of holding up the line. “yeah, yeah. pick your movie, rutherland. it’s just background noise for the real show, anyway.”

if he’s being honest, he barely hears her make her choice, the instructions on where to go flying in one ear and out the other. all he cares about for where he parks the car is that it’s secluded, and dark, away from prying eyes and any other people in the lot.

fortunately, blaine finds them the perfect spot, and he doesn’t even waste a second pretending like he gives a single shit about the movie at all, his eyes on her just as soon as the gear shift’s out of his hand.

kennedy’s turned in her seat and already looking back at him. she smiles and says, “thanks for doing this. it’s nice to have a normal date. i never pegged you as the type of guy who was all about carnivals and drive-ins and making these fun experiences for us.”

he shrugs, more nonchalantly than he feels. “probably ‘cause i’m not,” blaine answers honestly, “but everything’s different, with you.”

kennedy makes a soft sound of disbelief, lifting her hands to cover her face. when she peeks out from between her fingers, he sees that she’s smiling widely again. “you keep saying stuff like that. it’s so charming.”

blaine laughs, reaching out to tug her hands off her face. “that’s kind of the point.” he clears his throat, then continues more seriously, “but... i want you to know how i feel, you know? you shouldn’t have to guess. the truth is... i’ve been all-in for awhile, now, and -- those pictures were just a shitty setback. they don’t change the way i feel about you at all.”

she reaches out for his hand, and he lets her lace their fingers together, squeezing affectionately. “you have no idea how nice it feels to hear that,” kennedy sighs. “honestly...” the hesitation in her voice makes it clear she’s unsure of whatever she’s about to say, but she continues, “it kind of just felt like i ruined everything. things were actually going pretty well, for once, but now it’s like there’s this... dark cloud hanging over everything i do. i can’t even hang out with you without worrying we’re going to get caught again.”

his expression softens. he’s not usually one for optimism, but for her, and in the interest of getting some of that thick sadness out of her voice, he’ll try. “well, we’ve done a pretty good job avoiding that so far.”

“that’s true.” kennedy’s head tips back agains the carseat, and she smiles at him again. “i guess we’re making it work, in our own way. i love that i can always count on you to be real with me. it’s so -- refreshing, after all the fake posturing we deal with.”

well -- that’s probably as good an opening as he’s ever going to get. he spares a moment to silently thank whatever god is listening for the chance to ask the question that’s been eating at him for hours, the one thing he’s most desperate to know, beyond even the other stuff that usually keeps him up at night, everything from the simple inner workings of kennedy’s mind to why he’s so tripped up over a girl he’s only spent a few short months with. “speaking of fake...” blaine pointedly looks somewhere beyond her, staring out at the parking lot, “how’d your date go?”

kennedy’s quiet for long enough that he has to look back at her. there’s a knowing little glint in her eyes that he decidedly does not like. “are you jealous?”

“what?” he scoffs, “of course not. you left alexei to go out with me.”

“right,” she laughs, one small word injected with endless disbelief. “well, we had a good time. alexei’s not so bad.”

he’s an egomaniac and a self-centered prick, actually, blaine thinks. out loud, he says, “oh. cool. glad it worked out. cool, cool, cool...”

he fidgets restlessly. kennedy’s visible amusement only grows. “you know it was still a fake date, right? neither of us have any interest in the other.”

“i know,” blaine insists defensively. kennedy only arches an eyebrow at him. with a groan, he slumps back in his seat, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “fine, maybe i am a little jealous. give me a break, okay? this is kind of a unique situation for me.”

“if it helps, i think you’re doing a pretty great job.” she’s still smiling at him, but less like she thinks he’s being funny and more like she thinks he’s being sweet. she leans in a little closer, and -- it actually does help. the knots in his stomach that’d been coiled there since she first said her mom’s team was planning a pr relationship for her are finally starting to unwind.

“yeah?” he asks, gratified by the immediate nod she gives. “that’s good. i don’t wanna half-ass this boyfriend stuff just because it’s new to me.”

there’s a long stretch of silence. he realizes what he’s said all at once and starts to feel nauseous all over again, staring silently back at kennedy while he waits for her to say something -- anything.

“boyfriend stuff?” 

“ah.” his hand slips around to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry. slipped out.” he should probably just cut his losses now -- bring her back early to be on the safe side and go back to his dorm and drown himself in the shower, because he is an idiot and that’s what an idiot deserves. “i know you kind of already have a boyfriend.”

kennedy huffs out a quiet laugh. “i kind of do.” she tilts her head to meet his eyes, forcing him to look at her again. his heart stutters painfully in his chest, picking up into a pace that’s almost frantic. “but... that’s not a ‘no.’”

their hands are still linked together. he looks down at where their fingers are interlaced, hoping his palms aren’t as sweaty as they feel. blaine disentangles his hand to lift it instead to kennedy’s face, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with a hesitant smile she immediately returns tenfold. 

it’s also not a ‘yes,’ but he’ll take what he can get. 

as it turns out, three hours and forty-five minutes is kind of not actually a long time at all.

or maybe it would be, for some people, but with kennedy in his lap, squished between him and the steering wheel so she can kiss him senseless, the time flies by. they watch what’s probably ten minutes total of the movie, they’re so busy kissing and talking, his hands wandering along her new outfit to show his appreciation for it the only way he knows how.

for her part, kennedy gives as good as she gets, tugging his hair out of place and messing up his jacket and making him forget his own name, with the way her hips are pushing into his lap and all the sweet little sounds she makes when he whispers something dirty in her ear and presses her in closer against him.

no amount of agonizing over her fake dates and not being able to kiss her in public is ever going to drive the way she shivers with her whole body when he says something she likes from his mind.

still, the drive back is somber. it’s time to bring kennedy -- kiss-swollen lips and raised hemlines and all -- back to the opera house before he knows it, and he’s really not looking forward to everyone who sees her thinking she spent four hours fooling around in the private box with alexei, of all people. he’s looking forward to driving home alone and going to bed by himself even less.

tomorrow he’ll have to sit by her in class again and pretend like everything’s fine.

because they had tonight, and he knows he should be content with that. the problem is -- he’s not. 

“you okay?” kennedy asks, checking the time on the watch on his wrist with a frown. she’s holding his hand in both of hers. “and don’t say you’re ‘fine.’”

“i am fine,” blaine insists, running his thumb across her wrist. “this sucks, but it’s what we have to do. if you’re good, then i’m good.”

she studies his expression for a minute, then sighs. “i’m as good as i can be,” she murmurs, “but things will get better.”

he knows that, too. even if no one ever finds out it’s him in the photos, even if they have to spend the rest of their lives sneaking out and ditching their bodyguards so they can find a few hours alone together -- things are good. the alternative -- winning the fight with his parents to keep him away from vancross, never getting the chance to know kennedy as well as he does... that’s a future that seems bleak, now that he’s seen the alternative.

“it’s really alright,” blaine assures her. “i’ll miss you, but... do what you gotta do.”

something about the way he says the words seems to instill new confidence in kennedy. she straightens her shoulders and glances back at the opera house door with determination. “thanks,” kennedy sighs, squeezing his hand one last time before slowly pulling away. she probably has only seconds until the finale starts up, though he’s desperate for a way to make them stretch longer. an eternity would be a nice place to start.

“will you... text dionne goodnight before you go to bed?” she asks, looking so hopeful he finds it’s impossible to do anything other than nod.

he grins widely at kennedy, leaning in to steal one last kiss. “dream about me, will ya?”

“every night,” she promises, and blaine lowers the window to get a better view of her and the sway of her hips when she slips out of the car and back inside, sighing heavily once she’s gone and he’s alone again, whacking his head against the carseat.

this is some mess they’ve gotten themselves into.

but, he figures, as he pulls away from the curb and starts back towards campus, the image of kennedy walking away in the heels and skirt she’d been wearing playing over and over again in his mind like a highlight reel, it’s definitely not without its perks.

#blaine hayes #foreign affairs #choices foreign affairs #blaine hayes x mc #myfic #long post

[thebestworstidea]

The Green Knight’s Lady (4)

Sequel fic to “The Witch and the Green Knight” (on Ao3)

Warnings: undeserved redemption arc, graphic imagery and as of this chapter violence against minors.

Chapter 1: In which Rowan has Unexpected House Guests

Chapter 2: In Which They Try to Figure Out What the Hell is Going On

Chapter 3: In Which Remus and Rowan’s Stupidity Escalates to Treason (sort of)

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

Chapter 4: In Which Life is Difficult

>-<>-< ——————-<>——————- >-<>-<

     The winter waned in a sloppy miserable way, kicking out with a few snowstorms like the flailing of a dying animal. Despite not really being bothered by the cold, D.N. practically hibernated, most often found in a window seat in the library, going through Rowan’s Mother’s books and being snarky about bad information about fairies. Rowan was fairly sure it was just a way to safely lash out. She dug out an old laptop and gave him access to the Netflix account. If nothing else it kept him distracted. Something Rowan had learned was that the fair folk did, as legend said, love stories. 

And apparently, soap operas and romcoms.

Like herself, Remus seemed out of sorts in the late winter, though more in the way of someone who had woken up long before they wanted to. He’d gone into the woods and returned dressed in his more normal attire, also having brought back a few changes of clothing that was closer to D.N.’s size, and of a finer make than anything in the Baker house, despite Rowan’s sister’s cautious attempt to find a fabric the fae child would like. For the most part, the rest of Rowan’s family treated D.N. with cautious courtesy, and a certain level of ‘not be alone in a room with him’. Remus, by contrast, was treated more as a benign nuisance, though not without kindness.  Frankly, that was more understandable than Rowan’s blase attitude. That didn’t stop a certain level of speculation as to why ‘Leif’ and his friend were staying with them.

     “I’ve figured it out!” 

Rowan balled a pair of socks and tossed it in her sister’s basket across the table. They were sorting the laundry by owner, and Rowan had made it her mission to find as many pairs of socks as she could. 

“Figured what out?” 

“What’s going on with Leif and the kid!” 

“Have you now?” Rowan said dryly and a little nervously. Her sister nodded. 

“It’s pretty obvious if you think about it. The kid is the spawn of the last fairy king.”

“What.” 

“Look, it’s obvious that Leif served him, right? And we know he’s dead. So then Leif disappears for months and reappears with a kid? With scales? We know that Leif’s traveled outside Wickhills before- so clearly he knew where the kid was, maybe he was even the one who took him away, probably more of a Cronos eating his kids thing than a Arthur sent into hiding thing, and now he brought him back.” She pursed her lips. “You know, I bet Leif can change genders like a frog.”

Rowan started laughing. 

“Leif might even be the mother-” she went on. 

“Definitely not.” Rowan choked. 

“But he is related. I’ve connected the dots.” she said smugly.

“You haven’t connected shit.” Rowan retorted throwing a pair of pants at her.

“I’ve connected them.”

     As spring burgeoned forth, Remus agitated with the need to leave the house. It was clear he wasn’t used to staying in one place, even for a few weeks like this. Rowan could always tell when Remus had gone wandering in the night, because D.N. didn’t come down from the attic until he’d come back. It wasn’t as if D.N. was avoiding his so-called hosts, so much as he was totally avoiding the humans in the house as much as possible as if by pretending they weren’t there he could pretend none of this was happening. 

When spring officially arrived Rowan made them clothing, a shirt of heavy green broadcloth for Remus, and a more delicate shirt of the finest white linen she had for D.N. The shirt he generally wore was made of undyed silk, and Rowan feared that the substance had come from the shroud- or rather bag- she’d sewn for the bones of the Serpent King. It was tricky to give them, as D.N. certainly wanted no gifts from her, and Remus wanted to gift her in return. But it was simply tradition, that for the first day of spring everyone had a new garment. So her green brother and erstwhile guest needed something new too, for luck. Honestly, Rowan thought he could probably use all the luck he could get.

     It was a fine warm day in mid April, when leaves were finally starting to show, and only the most stubborn bits of snow were sticking around in the darkest shadows, when Rowan was working in her garden.

“Little tree! You’re wearing pants!” 

The whippy rose vine Rowan had been arguing with slipped out of her hand as the twist tie sprang from her other, and she took the momentary break to glare at Remus, who had appeared in her personal bubble with no warning whatsoever.

“I wear pants all the time.” she retorted, giving him a half hearted shove. 

“Yeah, but usually you have dresses over ‘em.” theatrically, he collapsed to the scrubby grass outside the garden and sprawled in the sun. 

“Well, I learned that arguing with rose bushes in a dress doesn’t end well for the dress.” She grabbed hold again with her gloved hand, and pulled a fresh tie out of her apron pocket, lashing the thorny vine to the wrought iron trellis that kept most fae out of her garden. They could, in theory, pass under the iron arbor that faced the wood, wreathed as it was in plants, but until Remus it hadn’t been much of a problem. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly. He was looking better. He’d been kind of wan, a sickly sort of green rather than his normal healthy hue like a ripening acorn. 

“Starting to feel my oats.” He responded, tipping his face into the sun. “It’s a good spring. I’d say that spring was happy about something.” in the distance, a door opened and closed.

“Seasons do seem to have emotions.” She agreed, and had to step delicately over him to get to the next bush, pulling clippers from her pocket and studying the bush thoughtfully, before pruning a few branches, and returning to tucking them in safely so they wouldn’t grab passers by too badly.  That done she carried the trimmed branches away. D.N. emerged from the widdershins side of the house, having exited the front door and walked so he didn’t have to pass the rowan tree, even if he could do so under the protection of the porch. He glared down at Remus with frustration. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Having a kip?” Remus suggested, as Rowan stepped over him again to get back to the rose bushes. 

“You should tell me as soon as you come back from the forest.” he said grouchily, not making eye contact. 

“Well, not much is going on, so there’s nothing to tell you.” Remus shrugged. 

“That’s good right?” Rowan asked. 

“A secret unsaid is a secret kept.” D.N. muttered, not addressing Rowan at all. “What are you doing out there anyway?” 

“Favors.” Remus sighed. “So many favors. I’m not exactly a favorite right now. People don’t want me to do favors for them, but I need the currency. Also fixing up my house.” he rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s kind of out of the way, so it might be safe enough. It’s nice enough to visit with my little tree, but…”

“We can’t stay here forever.” D.N. agreed. “It buzzes.” 

“Yeah.” Remus nodded. “So I’ve got some improvements to make, and gotta reassert my territory. No one got near the tree, but I don’t have much around it.” he clicked his tongue “Fun and all, but I’m in a hurry.”  he made a kissy face at them both. “But I’ll always hurry back to you.” 

Rowan snorted, and D.N. rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and cocked his hip, glaring down at the green-clad fae. 

“I’m sure whatever you stay in is better than this.”

“Hey, owch. It’s a good house. We finally got the roof fixed last year.” Rowan glared, waving her clippers at him. D.N. leaned away. 

“Well it’s hardly the hovel I’ve seen other witches live in,” he sneered at the Victorian style house. “But it isn’t anywhere I would choose to stay.” 

“Sorry for not being a magical house.”

“Oh it’s full of magic alright. Human magic, thick and inelegant, like mud on the bottom of a pond.”

“I like mud.” Remus commented, popping up and bracing himself upright on his hands. Rowan noticed that his knuckles were reddened and split. Putting her clippers away again, she dug into her other pocket, coming up with a small, shallow clay pot, closed with a wide cork. She crouched down and grabbed one hand, dabbing the ointment onto the wounds. Remus obligingly offered his other hand when she was done. 

“Why was this in your pocket?”

“It’s better to get the ointment on big jabs right away, and I’m doing lawn work.” she shrugged, and went back to her work. 

After a while, Rowan finished her discussion with the rosebushes, and headed back inside without saying anything. Shortly after that, a car drove up hidden by the bulk of the house. Another short while later, it drove away again. Rowan returned to her garden, hooking her apron over her head again.

“Bloody busy-body is what she is.” Rowan grumbled to herself. “No need to come by every time, her tea hasn’t changed in over a year, if I wanted everyone coming by and bothering me all the time I’d start up a tea room in town and read palms and cards. It’s what I get for being helpful and offering to do a unique blend.” 

“Can you tell the future?” Remus asked, popping up on the other side of the hedge wall of rose bushes, making Rowan yelp and clutch her rake. 

“Like the weather.” She retorted. “Which is to say, not really worth anything.” 

“You’re a useless kind of witch, aren’t you?” sniffed D.N. who had taken up a seat in an Adirondack style chair they had acquired somewhere, and everyone in the Baker family hated, which is why it wasn’t on the porch.

“Yeah, kind of.” she didn’t rise to the bait, and watched him stare at the woods. “You could go, you know.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s keeping you here if you wanted to leave.”

“Little tree-” Remus said, sounding hurt. 

“Not you, you’re welcome any time. And for that matter, if he wants to go for a bit and come back, that’s fine.”

“I can’t actually. I have to ‘stay here’ until further notice.” 

“Oh right. Fairy parole officer.” Rowan sighed. “Well you could probably get as far as the property line, or where our ‘official’ lot meets up with the woods.”

“It isn’t as if I’m desperate to wander in the woodlands, Witch, I just don’t want to be here. At all.”

“Boy, do I hear that.”  she sighed deeply, pausing to look into the woods herself. The small leaves were misting the tips of the trees with color, and there was a smell of wet and rot in the air. It looked like a storm was building in the west.  It would probably hit the before nightfall, gathering the dark in the clouds and making the night come that much faster in the growing spring day. Better to get her gardening done before it hit, so she’d only have to repair the damage it did, not do that and the maintenance. The plants were being especially springy this year, and she was tempted to put this down to Remus’s presence. 

D.N. continued to watch her, as though she was some sort of reality TV show, while Remus sprawled in the scrubby grass next to his chair. 

When the first cold wet gust hit, all three of them headed inside.

     The storm was really having fun, so they were in Rowan’s room instead of the loft. Remus liked to hang out with both of them, so Rowan coming to work on whatever she was doing -some sort of project involving embroidery floss at the moment- and sit with Remus while Remus would root through her work basket, or bring out a pouch and do something himself- embroidery, or sharpening knives, occasionally woodcarving. Sometimes he’d sit behind Rowan and brush or play with her hair, braiding it into elaborate arrangements that she’d have to ask for help to undo.

Sometimes Danger Noodle would use Remus as a cushion or a backrest as if he was staking his claim. That night however, he’d pulled the beat up floral armchair Rowan kept next to one of her windows to a different window (further away from the dancing limbs of the rowan tree) and settled down with a book.

Rowan noticed that he would raise his hand and rub the back of his neck occasionally as if it were hurting. She nudged Remus’s leg and inclined her head at D.N. He shrugged.

“Are you in pain somehow?” Rowan asked, startling him into dropping his book.

“Kindly mind your own business.” Danger Noodle sneered. 

“Are you cold?” Remus asked. “You do-” he rubbed the back of his neck “lots.” 

D.N. growled under his breath, picking the book up. 

“It isn’t important.” He told them. 

“But it is a thing.”

“You never used to.”

He sighed, explosively. “Are you two going to leave me alone about this?”

“Well now I’m curious.” Rowan admitted tipping her head with a smile on her face that reminded D.N. far too much of Remus’s mischievous expression. If it weren’t for her obvious humanity, he would think they were siblings. “If you’re cold, I could get you a blanket, is all.” 

“I’m not cold.” he rolled his eyes. “I’m a winter.”

She looked unimpressed. “So what’s with the lounging in sunbeams?” 

Danger Noodle sneered at her, scales glinting in the lamplight. 

“It's just a feeling.  It’s like a cold hand on the back of my neck, it’s not squeezing but it’s there.” D.N. spread his fingers over the back of his neck.  “Like something’s watching me, constantly.” 

“Huh.” Remus and Rowan said in unison, heads tipping to the side. Danger Noodle glared, there was no way they weren’t doing that on purpose. 

“Might be something?” Remus asked thoughtfully, looking at the corners of the room. 

“I’d want to keep an eye on him, if it were me.” Rowan admitted. 

D.N. sighed again, exasperated, then Remus perked up digging in one of the many pockets inside his vest.  After a search he came up with a bag, tied firmly shut with cord. He climbed off the bed and went to kneel next to the armchair instead. 

“I made this for you.” Remus opened the intricately tied knot, and from inside the bag, produced a scarf. It looked like heavy silk of some sort, dyed a beautiful saffron yellow, covered in single-thread embroidery. Vines twisted and twined along it, with a snake hidden among them.  D.N. stared at it for a long moment, then recoiled. 

“Are you out of your mind? Wait, never mind I retract the question.” 

“I made it for you a while ago but…” Remus admitted. “You wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I’m not taking it now.” He stood up, tossing the book on the chair. “What makes you think I would even want it?” 

“You’re not as strong now-” 

Danger Noodle hissed, flashing sharp teeth, pupils narrow. 

“-so I’m going to protect you until you’re stronger.” Remus finished as if  he hadn’t just been threatened. 

“I am still stronger than you.” the young fae said disdainfully, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height.

“Are you though?” Rowan asked, setting her project down and watching them. 

“I am certainly more powerful than you.” 

“Oh, that’s not even a question.” 

“So what this looks like is Remus is offering you his favor to wear, showing that you’re his...  I’m going to say ‘ward’, because you’re a kid.”

“I am not a kid!” D.N. retorted, stamping his foot like a child. 

“And therefore under his protection. Displaying a connection.” 

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah.” Remus agreed. 

“Which is why I’m not interested.” 

“I don’t have to give you an oath to give you my favor.” Remus pointed out, he just stared up at Danger Noodle entreatingly.  The room was silent except for the storm outside, and the faint sound of someone watching a movie elsewhere in the house. D.N. rubbed the back of his neck again, and Rowan shivered, like a gust of cold air had made it through the window. Her eyes shut and she saw dead branches against a milky sky. Blinking the vision away, she got to see D.N. throw his hands in the air. 

“Uugh enough with the eyes. Fine. I’ll take it, but it doesn’t mean anything.” He accepted the scarf and looped it around his neck, spreading the folds upward to the base of his hair. 

“It means you’re wearing something I made you.” Remus pointed out and rose up, gathering Danger Noodle into a hug, to which he submitted, to Rowan’s surprise. “Which makes me happy.” 

“Mmgnh. Fuck off.” D.N. mumbled, face pressed to Remus’s bicep. 

Rowan decided not to comment on how cute it was.

#willow is writing #the witch and the green knight #laoft recursive fic

[nalgenewhore]

anything and everything

elide x lorcan, modern au, sick fic/domestic fluff, word count: 1874

The clock at the back of his classroom showed that there was two minutes left until lunch. The history teacher knew he’d lost his students three minutes ago, and tossed his printed copy of the PowerPoint onto his meticulously organised desk. “Alright, guys, I think that’s enough for today. Pack up and get out of here, yeah?” 

The sounds of rustling paper and shuffling bags filled the room. Lorcan unplugged his laptop from the projector and clicked it off, pushing the cart back to its corner. He heard his grade twelves’ easy conversations and jokes as they filed out, bidding him good-bye. 

“Bye, Mr. S,” Evangeline called, waving as she walked out, “thank you!” 

“You’re welcome, Evangeline. Have a good day,” Lorcan replied. No one else was in his classroom, so he pushed in the chairs and picked up the stray pencils that had been left. 

He slid his laptop into his bag and slung the leather strap over his shoulder. Lorcan left the blinds down from when they’d been drawn for the video he’d shown and flicked the lights off before he closed and locked the door. 

His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked to the teacher’s lounge. Lorcan was the first there and he decided to call home, his phone in his back pocket.

As the phone rang, Lorcan grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit and rinsed it before he ate it.

His fiancée picked up after two rings and sounded even more congested and hoarse than she’d been in the morning, “Hello, love. How’s your day going?” Elide coughed loudly, the sound deep and from her chest, “I’m feeling so much better, honestly, baby. I think I’ll just pop in and teach my last few class–” 

“Lee, you're sick. You'll collapse before you get to the front gate and you know it,” he said, nodding to Rowan, who walked in with Aelin and Lysandra. Nesryn couldn’t have been that far behind them. 

Elide huffed, knowing he was right and hating it, “I’m not sick, I’m not even barfing! I’m just achy and I have a cough, I’m fine.” 

“You have the flu, Elide. You do not have the energy to teach two classes - stay home.” 

She muttered something and Lorcan could practically hear her eye roll. “Fine. I can do video calls anyway, bye-bye, L, love you!” 

“That is not what I meant, Elide,” he protested, but Elide hung up. Lorcan sighed through his nose and put his phone in his pocket once more. The rest of the apple was gone in two bites. 

From one of the tables, the blonde science teacher looked over at him, a bite of leftover risotto and pink salmon on her fork, “Was that our Ellie dear? How is she?” 

“Stubborn and petty,” Lorcan grumbled in good nature. He tossed his apple core into the compost bin, “I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Please don’t call me if you need help.” His colleagues laughed mockingly at his inconsiderate remark and Lorcan smirked, saluting them as he walked out. “Bye, guys. Have a good day.” He walked down the hall, waving and nodding to students he recognised. 

Lorcan passed two of his favourites, Luca and Evangeline. They stopped him to talk and they chatted about Luca’s upcoming debate and Evangeline’s English presentation. He wished them both luck and continued on, all but refusing to acknowledge any of his other colleagues. Lorcan didn’t have anything against them, save for a few, but he didn’t want to be dragged into a long conversation with them when his girl was home sick and miserable. 

Outside, it was raining, but light enough that it was more of a mist than any noticeable precipitation. Lorcan got into their old Volkswagen Jetta - the car that Elide had saved for during her last year of high school to buy - and pulled out of the parking lot, going slowly around the meandering students and teachers alike. 

Since he hadn’t eaten lunch yet and he had been dreading his tuna salad sandwich all day, Lorcan stopped by the local Blackbeak restaurant. He bought pierogies, borscht, sausage, and cabbage rolls. Knowing Elide loved them so, he added on an order of sweet, apple-filled piroshkis and sweet tea. 

Luckily, the wait wasn’t long and he tipped them well when they handed him the containers in two plastic bags, including a tray for their tea. Lorcan carried their food back to the car and put it on the passenger seat, carefully fitting the cups of tea in the cup holders. 

Lorcan got back in his seat and drove on, more slowly this time so the food would remain untouched. He’d tossed his phone onto the dash and it rang. He glanced over at it and saw Elide calling him. Since he was driving, Lorcan didn’t pick up and he would be home soon enough. 

He came to a stop at a red light and looked over at the text she sent him. 

princess: r u too busy to answer me cause ur with ur new WHORE. 

princess: dont even come home tn im so over ur disrespectful ass. smh. 🙄. cant believe i ever trusted a MAN. 

princess: bby im so hungry tell me what to get i cant decide 🥺 pls help me ill b so nice to uuuuuu ❤🖤🥰🥰😘 

Lorcan laughed and shook his head, driving on home. He pulled up in front of their townhouse a mere five minutes later. Carefully, Lorcan balanced everything and locked the car. He walked through the front gate and up the stone pathway. 

Somehow, he managed to carry everything and unlocked the front door. When he walked in, he heard someone’s long nails tapping across a laptop keyboard. Lorcan chuckled quietly and put his bags down. He hung up his jacket, put his keys in the silver dish next to Elide’s, and toed off his shoes. 

Lorcan walked down the hallway and passed the staircase, putting their food on the kitchen counter. Then, he rolled up the sleeves of his wool sweater and white shirt. He walked upstairs, “Lee? You in bed?” 

He passed their shared office and leaned against the doorframe, eyes landing on his fiancée. Elide had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her dark hair pushed up in a messy bun. Her thick glasses were perched on the edge of her nose and when she looked up at him, Elide pushed them back up, “Oh, hi, love.” She looked back at her laptop and colour-coordinated lesson plan, still typing. “I didn’t know you were coming home, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Evidently I did because my fiancée refuses to rest,” he said, shoving off the door and walking in. She rolled her eyes and frowned. Lorcan walked around to her side and crouched, twisting her chair around, “Elide. You’re sick. Your students are not going to be affected if you take a day or two off, now please. Can you just get back in bed? For me?” 

She clicked her tongue and sighed, “That’s cheating. You can’t say it’s for you when you know I’d do anything for you.” 

Lorcan smirked and cupped her face, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone, “Just doing what I can.” He surveyed her, his eyes not missing a thing. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her brow and her eyes were tired. Her skin was paler and more pallid than usual, the only spot of colour on the tip of her nose. She was restraining herself, but Lorcan could see her shivering. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m… fine.” 

He arched a brow. Elide sighed through her nose and looked to the side. 

“Fine. I feel like shit. I’m tired and I have a headache and I’m so, so tired,” she whispered, tipping herself forward and leaning into him. “I hated that you left this morning. I wanted to be with you and… and let you take care of me.” 

Lorcan smiled softly and got to his feet, picking her up as well. Her head fell against his shoulder and he held her with one arm banded beneath her thighs. He cut off the camera and sent a bland message before signing out and turning it off. As he carried her out, Lorcan asked, “Are you hungry? Have you eaten anything?” 

Elide shook her head, “No… I was sleeping.” 

“I got food. Blackbeak,” he told her, smiling when she gasped wondrously. 

“O-m-giness.” Elide said softly, dancing her shoulders around. “You’re the best, baby. Did you get piroshki? The- the sweet one. With apple.” 

“Mm-hmm,” he said, pushing her hair back again. “And pierogies, tea, sausage, and cabbage rolls. Everything, even soup.” 

“I love you so fuckin’ much, man,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. Elide’s face was comfortably hidden in the crook of his neck. She could smell his cedar cologne, the lavender dryer ball on his sweater, and the sweetgrass he’d smudged with. “We should watch When Harry Met Sally.” 

Lorcan huffed a laugh through his nose and kissed the side of her head, “Yeah. Sally’s a spaz.” 

“And Harry’s an inconsiderate asshat,” Elide replied, squeezing her thighs around his hips. 

They crossed through the door of their bedroom and Lorcan set her down on their bed. He left her be, letting her manoeuvre into her little nest of blankets, quilts, and a duvet. 

He changed into sweatshorts and a hoodie with their university’s logo before going downstairs. On his way, he re-did his hair in some tiered, sloppy and loopy bun. 

In the kitchen, he played some random song from his phone and bobbed his head as he served them both food. 

Lorcan carried their plates and bowls back upstairs. Elide got up to help her when he got to their room. On the TV that opposited their bed showed the main menu of When Harry Met Sally. He laughed quietly and shook his head, sitting down beside her and getting comfortable. 

Elide hummed delightedly and pressed play from her phone. She took the tea first and drank it quickly, suddenly ravenous. Lorcan passed her water and medicine. Elide took it and ate her beet soup, sans sour cream. 

The movie played and Lorcan ate his pierogies, gently sipping on his own tea. 

Done first, Elide put her dish to the side and leaned into him. She mouthed the lines, her eyes slowly falling shut. Lorcan grinned and finished the cabbage roll before easing out from under her and taking their things back downstairs. 

He got her more citrus tea and went back upstairs. The flu-ridden woman woke up when he got in bed and resituated herself. 

“I got the vaccine, baby,” Elide muttered, her arms wrapped around his neck, “and I’m still sick. I’m anti-vax now. They’re hoaxes.” 

Lorcan sighed through his nose, still adoring her dramatics. “You can’t say that to your students, Lee. They believe anything.” 

The chemistry teacher smacked his chest, “They arent dumb! They’re just…” 

“Stupid,” Lorcan finished her sentence. “C’mon, I had a student who didn’t know Terrasen’s capital. He was born here, Elide.” 

She snorted and hid her face in his neck. “I love you.” 

“Forever and always, Lee.”

☽ ☼ ☾

an: i luv them. omg. 

@mythicaitt​​​ @werewolffprince​​​ @schmlip-scribble​​​ ​ @the-regal-warrior​​​ @ladyverena​​​ @ttakeitbacknoww​​​ @shyvioletcat​​​ @alifletcher2012​​​ @tswaney17​​​ @ourbooksuniverse​​​  @flora-and-fae​​​ @thesirenwashere​​​ @queenofxhearts​​​ @maastrash​​​ @mynewdreamwasyou​​​ @cursebreaker29​​​ @empress-ofbloodshed​​​ @b00kworm​​​ @hizqueen4life​​​ @silversprings98​​​ @amren-courtofdreams​​​ @minaidss​​​ @superspiritfestival​​​ @sanakapoor​​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​​​ @spyofthenightcourt​​​  @thegoddessofyou​​​ @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx​​​ @claralady​​​ @neonhellas​​​ @darlinminds​​​ @readingismyonlyhobby​​​ @autophobiaxx​​​ @silversprings28​​​ @myshadowsingeraz​​​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​​​ @elriel4life​​​ @always-in-a-daydream​​​ @jlinez​​​ @ladywitchling​​​ @mariamuses​​ @darklesmylove​​ @adelzd-bookblr

#cute cute cuties <3 #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore

[imaginesofharrypotter]

Asgardian ale

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Thor brought some Asgardian booze to the party. Surely, nothing can go wrong.

Warnings: a little bit of angst I guess, but mostly fluffy Bucky

Last night, it was one of Tony Stark's notorious parties but only including the Avengers. Everyone was dragged there as it was mandatory, "team-building fun" as Tony liked to put it. Surprisingly enough Thor showed up and brought something with him that made the party all the more exciting: Asgardian ale.

You see, the two super soldiers were so enhanced that they could never get drunk and let loose, with human alcohol that is. It was truly a sight to behold. Pre-serum Steve had so many ill conditions that alcohol was off-limit and boy, did he enjoy the calm feeling of the booze. The always polite Captain America ran around the tower shouting nonsense, swearing while he tried to lift Thor's hammer and cutely but miserably flirting with Natasha (but given the unlikely situation, it made the assassin blush nonetheless)

You were laughing your ass off on the couch with Wanda when two strong arms draped around your shoulder making you look up.

"Hi Soldier" - you greeted your boyfriend who had an adorable cheeky grin on his face

"Hi, Beautiful" - he planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth that made all eyes wander from Steve towards the two of you

You see, Bucky never was a fan of PDA, rarely showing affection when the others were around. That was fine with you, you understood that he was a private person, and it made his love for you even more precious, knowing he would make it up when in your shared room alone. He was a big, sentimental, clingy, and handsy person and you wouldn't have it any other way. It was so sweet that you were the only one seeing this affectionate side of him... Up until last night.

"I miss youuuu" he purred in your ear, tone slightly slurred by the alcohol

"But I'm right here, Buck" - you cocked an eyebrow and smiled sweetly at him

"I miss your warmth" - he cornered the couch and sat down next to you, instantly wrapping his arms around you in a side hug, nuzzling your neck.

"Better?" - you asked in a whisper as you started stroking his hair, just the way he likes it

"Soooo much" - he purred again, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent - "You smell so gooood"

You chuckled lightly and yelped as you felt yourself being lifted. You landed on Bucky's lap, him pulling you flesh to him and tightly wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on one of your shoulders. You laid back and let yourself relax in your boyfriend's embrace, closing your eyes, and feeling utterly content. That is until a flash went off.

"Hey" - you exclaimed as you saw Sam holding his phone and showing the photo that he just took to everyone

"Oh, calm down Snowflake, it's not every day that we get to see Mr. Grumpy so kind and calm." - he shrugged his shoulders

"At least send it to me then." - you asked him, already knowing what your new phone wallpaper will be

You lightly turned your head to see Bucky's reaction, only to find him still in the same position, contently sitting with closed eyes and a little smile plastered on his face.

The rest of the night mostly contained talking and laughing as everyone gathered around you. During the late hours, slowly, everyone went back to their rooms. You haven't failed to see Steve following Nat out and to her room. You smiled to yourself then you tried to think about a way to get you and Bucky into a comfortable position to sleep. You assumed that he had fallen asleep a long time ago as he never said a word all night, nor did he move after snuggling up with you. You slowly loosened his arms around you.

"Wanna go to sleep, doll?" - he asked and you jumped a little bit on his lap - "Sorry to startle you" - he chuckled lightly and hugged you tightly again

"It's okay, I just thought you were asleep" - you turned halfway and smiled down lovingly at him

"Nope" - he popped the p in it - "Was just too comfortable to move or say anything" - Bucky smiled goofily up at you while your heart melted

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself" - you caressed one of his cheeks, basking in the feeling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch - "Are you feeling sleepy yet?"

"I could sleep" - he mumbled tiredly while picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your shared bedroom

He put you on the floor and kissed you sweetly. It was a gentle and loved filled kiss, not hungry, nor rushing, just full of passion. He pulled away and undressed you slowly, trailing little wet kisses on your skin as he exposed it. After you were only standing in your panties he walked to the closet, picked out one of his T-shirts, and pulled it over you. Bucky loved it when you wore his clothes, it was a sense of pride that you were his and his alone. You started to undress him too, focusing on his clothing but you knew his gaze never left you as he followed your every movement with an expression filled with adoration. You pulled out a drawer and picked out a fresh boxer for him and panties for you. You both changed and got under the covers, Bucky instantly nuzzling your stomach and wrapping his arms around you the best he could. You reflexively started to card your fingers through his luscious brown locks and felt him hum against your skin while planting a soft kiss on it.

"I love it so much when you are this affectionate" - you laid your head on the soft pillow

"I can't help it, you are so soft and warm, the best feeling ever" - he mumbled softly and you heard his breath even out

"Sweet dreams, my love" - you kissed the crown of his head gently and drifted to sleep yourself

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A loud crash woke you up from your slumber. You turned around, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your boyfriend's warm body, but you found his spot empty and cold.

You yawned and walked to the kitchen to get some breakfast for yourself. Steve was already there, making coffee for himself, his back to you.

"Well, well, I didn't know purple was on the new Captain America color palette" - you commented with an obvious smirk as you saw the not so little love bites around his neck"

"Thor should definitely not bring that ale on a party again" - he laughed nervously while turning around and sipping his coffee

"Ohhh, on the contrary, Stevie. I will personally ask him to do so if it makes you finally admit your feelings" - your smiled turned more soft - "How much do you remember?"

"Everything" - he face-palmed himself - "The strength of the alcohol was enough to set me loose but not enough to make me forget things or even to have a hangover"

With that, you took out your phone to check social media. The first pic that came up nearly made you drop the device. Before you could ask Steve about it, Sam came running into the room, screaming, while a very angry looking Bucky followed him with heavy steps.

"Take it down" - your boyfriend demanded with a growl, the authority in his voice making your legs week

"No way man, where is the fun in it, there are already thousands of view on it" - Sam retorted while trying to hide behind you, knowing Bucky would never hurt you

"Oh, no, you are not getting me into this" - you stepped away, but towards your love - "Sweatheart, what got you this mad?"

"Oh, why not ask Birdie here?" - he still threw daggers with his eyes towards Sam

You thought about the post with the caption "The big bad Winter Soldier is actually a big softie #BuckyBear" that Wilson made and uploaded.

"Is this about the picture from last night? Do you not like it?" - you asked softly

"Of course I do, you are on it" - he smiled lovingly at you, his voice softened - "But other people aren't supposed to see and like it" - he mumbled and pouted like an adorable child

"Oh, honey, but we look so good. We've been together for almost two years, it's only natural that we love being affectionate towards each other" - you put your hands on his cheeks, lightly caressing them

"So it wouldn't bother you if I hold your hand or kiss you in front of others?" - he asked shyly, avoiding eye contact

"Of course not. I would really love that. But I respect your choice of privacy if it's not okay with you." - you reassured him

He didn't answer verbally, just bent down and captured your lips in a passionate, deep kiss.

"Ewww, get a room" - Sam exclaimed loudly, making you break the kiss

"You cooked yourself a meal, now you're gonna eat it" - and with that, you went back kissing Bucky

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From that moment on, Bucky always kept an arm around you and was never afraid to show his love for you. It turned out that he was a real sucker for PDA, knowing you loved his attention. You were also able to finally shower him with love anytime you wanted, to cuddle up to him and relax, and to go to long walks, holding hands. You two were never overdoing it though, but the team never minded it anyway. Everyone knew how happy and calm moments are so rare in the field of work you were doing, they were truly happy for you. Maybe Sam not so much, especially when Bucky randomly grabbed you and kissed you deeply whenever he walked in, pissing him off and reminding him that he never should invade your privacy again. Oh, and Bucky never admitted it, but he actually was grateful for Sam to take the photo that now served as his wallpaper too.

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Author's note: I have a bunch of ideas of Bucky, so most probably I'm gonna post about him for a while. But also really wanna write something sweet for Tj Hammond. What are your thoughts? Have a lovely day ^^

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky #james buchanan barnes #x reader #marvel #avengers #tony stark #sam wilson #thor #bucky bear #fluff #asgardian #Sebastian Stan #love #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #bucky x reader

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 11

“Did I meet your friends last night?” Kirby asked as he unwrapped his crunchwrap in the driver's seat.

“uuh...kinda? Like Toby was with me when I gave you the Surge but you sorta just ran off with it.” you pause as you sip a bit of your Baja Blast. “Like a fucking gremlin.”

Kirby lets out a snort and lettuce drops from his mouth. He tries to hide his messy eating behind his hand. Failing miserably, you can't help but laugh at your friend.

“Wha' bout the other two? Kieth said you ditched 'em.” For a man who was trying to cover up his mouth he sure had the audacity to try and talk with his mouth full.

“They're Toby's roommates, I haven't talked to them too much.” he nods as you speak.

“Well I promise I'll be more...together,” he makes a sort of questioning sound as he debates if that was the word he was looking for. He can't really think of anything else so he settles for 'together'. “next weekend. They are coming right?”

After a brief pause he gets his mind back in place, “This weekend, picnic's this weekend.” You chuckle.

“Toby said they'd stop by. Don't think any are really people people.”

“People people?”

“Yup” not going to let Kirby rile you up as he often tries. Not that he could with his current brain power. Sleep haze still has him in it's hold despite being “up” for about an hour now.

Out of everyone in your friend group Kirby is probably the one you're closest to. Along with being a fellow Ace he's an ambivert and you two just instantly clicked over dumb D grade monster movies. He jokes you guys must be long lost siblings. Well he only started the sibling thing because multiple Hornets or other members of the committee kept thinking you guys were dating. Since then Kirby takes to purposefully calling you some variation of sibling when he shows any type of affection. It seems even just being referenced to being in a relationship squicks him out. You don't mind though you'd always wanted an older brother and Kirby is the exact type you would've wished for. The funny dork who was super easy to get along with.

Even when he steals your nachos...like he is now.

“I'm starting to understand the Cain Instinct.” you say looking him dead in the eyes. He lets out a roar of laughter and reminds you he bought “breakfast”.

“Dad tax and all that.”

“You're not my dad! Ugly ass doodoo head.”

“Is that what that kid said? I don't think that's right.” another thing you share is constantly referencing vines or tiktok sounds.

This of course led to an argument of what the kid actually said in the vine. Both of you were determined to get home and look it up to prove the other wrong.

After your breakfast Kirby started the truck as you put all the trash into the Taco Bell bag. You switch on his stereo much to his chagrin. Kirby got a CD stuck in the radio and now the only thing he can listen to is a meme mix tape he made back in high school. It was funny the first two months for him and now he prays that the novelty will ware off on you soon.

Though it has been a few weeks since he last drove you anywhere, and what can he say Discord is always a bop.

Kirby drops you off without much fanfare, you both agree to seeing each other next week at the picnic. Is it ironic that you want to call out for him to get some more sleep? Like you are the one who's been up since five AM and it's now eleven. But you have a medical condition, Kirby is just over worked and stressed beyond Hell and back.

Getting inside you have nothing really planned for today and while you could start heading out to thrifts to find something formal for Jo's recital you really don't feel like it. Productivity wise you've already had a pretty busy weekend so no one can really judge you for taking it easy and just merging with the couch for the rest of it. Even you, you can be so tough on yourself sometimes.

British Bake Off is just the thing you need to enjoy the rest of your weekend. A calming low stress but funny baking show. Just turn your brain off and lose yourself in the soothing monotone of the judges. It's nearly six in the evening when you finally shake off your lazy day haze.

Getting up, bakers still baking, you start making a simple dinner. Fried egg on toast sounds good. Also a good balance to your supreme nacho breakfast from this morning. Dressing one slice of toast in butter and the other with butter, a little mayo, and a dash of Tabasco before placing the egg on it. You head back to eat and continue watching the competition. Your meal fills you and gives the energy you need to continue “leisureing”.

After an hour you get up and wash the dishes from earlier. And while you have no energy to actually play any of your video games right now you do want to log in for your dailies.

A quick trip to your bedroom has you grabbing your laptop before returning back to the comfort of your living room. Couch calling you to it's cozy embrace. You half pay attention to what you're doing as you set up your laptop, muscles running on muscle memory more than any conscious effort on your part. You hadn't even noticed your hands flickering across the board and logging into your email.

By the time you do realize you aren't on your game's site you see you have a new email. It's from Barclay.

'Coming to ask for my help?' you think a little too smug that you'd been right about the cooking being too much for the man.

However, that wasn't what he was messaging you about. It seems he and Leo had been talking and the old man mentioned what your plans for cooking were.

Shortie,

Leo says you're making forager's pie for the picnic. Seasons ripe for ramps and mushrooms. You in for a little adventure through new unexplored territory?

...I'm hunting some lobster mushrooms, could use a hand or two Will share the bounty. ~Barclay sent 12:04 PM

An olive branch in hopes you weren't too sore about his rejection from earlier this week. The message and sentiment is lost on you since you got over that Thursday.

The idea of new terrain makes you a bit uneasy, however lobster mushrooms were pretty good and forage finds were really rare. Barclay grew up in these woods he probably knew what he was doing, not to mention he could easily know where to find ramps. Their flavor would really up your pie game. It's settled you're in for a forage date with big foot as your guide.

Am in Big Feet. When are we going? Sent 7:20 PM

Like with most things a waiting game began, down sides to living in a radio quiet community people weren't as attached to electronics because of the limited capabilities. But now that you know Barclay is emailing you, you can check your phone more often. Shutting down your laptop you close it before sliding it under your coffee table as you slide down the couch getting comfy.

It was two hours before Barclay got back to you.

Fantastic! Does Tuesday work? ~Barclay sent 9:42 PM

Barclay must be in a rush to get those mushrooms. You'd been thinking Thursday or Friday at the latest for the freshest mushrooms. Maybe he didn't need them for the picnic but a personal project. From what Jake has told you Barclay often falls into spells of testing out new ideas with the strangest of ingredients. With varying results but mainly positive ones.

Yea sure. Meet at the lodge after my shift? Sent 9:50 PM

Perfect see you then. ~Barclay sent 9:52 PM

Oki Sent 9:52 PM

Now that that has been settled you are free to continue your chill Sunday. Losing yourself to the lulling voices of the judges you hardly notice as you drift off. Warm in your throw blanket cocoon and cozy on the plush of your couch.

You jolt up right panting after being woken up by a loud bang. Or at least you thought you'd heard a bang, Sometimes auditory hallucinations came to you in your sleep no matter how well rested you were. The room around you is dark as the light from your TV is dimmed with Netflix's 'Are you still watching?' pop up mocking you for your marathon.

Without thinking you hit 'yes' and the bake off resumes. With the brightness restored you can see your living room and hallway are completely undisturbed. An auditory hallucination must have pulled you out of sleep. Nothing more, after all your stalker wouldn't get sloppy now, it's only been three weeks.

'That you know of.' seems to whisper and embed itself in your mind.

Shaking off the worrying thought you look at your phone to see it's now quarter till one. You are hungry and don't feel like cooking. Thankfully you have emergency white castles and fries in your freezer for this exact need. Getting up you go to the kitchen to microwave your food. Popping the fries in first you decide to head to the bathroom before that becomes a problem for you.

Before you go down the hallway you do end up grabbing the bat next to the bookshelf. The whisper from earlier clearly hasn't done much to settle your nerves after your rude awakening. Protection in hand you have a little less anxiety about walking down the dark hallway. You'd have to look into installing one of those cheap wall lamps from Home Depot to help you out in situations like this. Either that or a night light in your bathroom, you can probably get the night light done quicker. Maybe Leo sells them, you'll have to check next week.

You made it back to the kitchen after your bathroom break without any surprises, real or imaginary, jumping out at you. Replacing the fries inside your microwave with sliders, you snack on a few while you wait for the rest of your meal.

It's probably paranoia but you can't blame yourself for it as you continue to keep an ear out for any sound of abnormal movement within your home, as you eat and have the bake show low enough to catch the sounds of another person. None come, and you finish your food without incident. You're willing to chalk the noise up to a hallucination and your paranoia as valid but not necessary in this moment. Without much more thought you place your empty plate on the coffee table and curl back up in your throw blanket. Just like before you don't catch yourself as you fall asleep. This time you don't wake up until your phone alarm goes off for you to start your week and head to work.

The week has been much less dramatic than last week had been. But then again it is only Tuesday and you literally have gay brunch this Sunday. There will definitely be some sort of theatrics this week. Whether they come from homosexuals or your stalker is up to God.

Then later today you'll be going foraging with Barclay. And while that isn't anything dramatic it will be an adventure and, you hope, really fun! Your excitement has been tangible all day and you couldn't hold yourself back from focusing only on the clock in the shop all day. Even giddier than normal for the strike of five. With the energy rushing through you it amped up your tics but thankfully you hadn't hurt yourself in your excitement.

Even Nate is beginning to playfully tease you about your “date” with Barclay.

Great he must've been talking to Little Jo. What is it with this family and wanting you to date the lodge owner? Do you just look like the lead in a Hallmark Christmas movie that moved to a small town in order to feel the joy of the holidays? You could definitely get into the role but you don't think Barclay would be the main love interest for you.

Honestly he'd probably be the one all the viewers cheered for but you'd personally go for the puppy dog partner that has a scarred past. You have a type and your type is emotionally wounded and needing of love. That thought had made you chuckle as you and Nate closed up the store for the day.

Nate kept looking over at you throughout the day, and when he heard you giggle to yourself at closing he couldn't help the fond smile that came over his features. He could feel how his brows lifted themselves from their normally furrowed or downward tilt. He'd have let you leave early had it not been for the new procedures Big Jo had set. It's not often that your excitement shows so visibly. It's not often that the Cowell family has seen you happy like this.

But Nate understands it's not the crush that Little Jo seems to think it is, it's something more bittersweet. It's the excitement that comes from finally waning off of being isolated for so long. And boy does Nate understand that feeling. If he had to guess Nate would say you've been alone for most of your life even if you don't act like it. You need these little hangouts with your friends. So he does his fastest close yet. You both are out the door by five after and he bids you goodnight as you head to your respective cars.

With the close tonight being so quick you made it to the lodge and parked in the half full lot just before five thirty. Getting out of your car you noticed a familiar duo sitting on the stoop of the lodge.

'Something's wrong.' is the only thought you have as you walk towards the lodge.

“Hey stranger.” the brunette looks up to you at your greeting.

In this light you can just catch the slight movement of his pupils in his dark eyes as they widen in surprise.

“oh...hey?” he seems confused to see you here. Must not be used to living in a small town yet. He'll learn soon enough that you run into everyone all the time here. Sometimes multiple times a week as it would seem.

“You good?” motioning towards the hand on the back of his neck.

“Yea, fucking Bri-an Mrrow thought I needed this.” Toby moves his hand to show an ice pack that you assume he's been holding to the back of his neck.

“Heat sickness?”

“Nah, the RV's AC busted. I can probably fix it by the end of the week.” you nod.

That makes sense, after all CIPA affects thermal regulation, at least from a basic skim. You really need to get on that deep dive to make sure you're prepared for irregular injury prevention with Toby. Speaking of, the boy in front of you is just sitting here with Connor, why? Even if he's here to get a room at the lodge why didn't he just go in? Connor is a service dog after all not like anyone could turn him away. So why was Toby just sitting out here, especially if Brian thought he needed an ice pack to the neck to keep cool?

As if the universe heard your question and decided to give you an answer, Aubrey opened the door and poked her head out.

“Thanks for letting me put up Dr. Harris Bonkers. I'll keep him in my room during your stay.” Oh that makes sense Aubrey's rabbit normally has the run of the lodge. Even if Connor's a service dog and well trained Dr. Bonkers is still a prey animal with a weak heart. Seeing Connor may have stressed the poor rabbit out, if not nearly given him a heart attack.

Her russet eyes land on you when she opens the door wider to, you assume, let Toby and Connor in. They widen and Aubrey rushes in to hug you before stopping short as if remembering you don't appreciate physical contact.

“Hey YN! I didn't know you were coming over.” She says a little awkwardly mid pose for a hug.

You won't be saving her from the situation. With a smile, that she can't see, you nod.

“Barclay's taking me foraging today.”

Aubrey nods while lowering her arms and takes a few steps back so you and Toby can enter the lodge. The large foyer of the wooden chalet always looks bigger thanks to the deep red tones in it's color palette. From the dark cherry stained wood to the red rugs and table liners. Always feels a lot warmer too, but in a homey sense not the overbearing swelter of heat sense. You can't wait to see what it's like in the winter. Probably so cozy and welcoming with a fire roaring and the murmur of residents and tourist mingling over the winter festivities. There's a swell in your chest at the thought...it seems nice, you hope you're right.

'Hope you see it.' is the dark whisper that taints your thoughts.

You notice Brian and Tim are over at the counter talking to Barclay who is nodding along sympathetically to the trio's plight. He catches your eye and motions for you to wait. You'd been planning to, after all he's currently working.

Turning to Toby you see he looks a bit paler than normal, which should be a difficult feat. Aubrey had left you both, though you aren't sure if she'll be coming back with her girlfriend Dani in a moment or not. You decide to lead Toby over to the obnoxiously plush couch in the den.

It's not like the lodge is off limits to those who aren't guests, and seeing as most of it's workers live here their friends frequently come around thus using the amenities. After sitting on the couch Toby grabs at Connor's ears and starts shaking them. He isn't being rough with them despite the jerky movements and Connor seems to lean into the pet.

Just from what you can gather it seems like Toby has some pretty bad social anxiety. You really aren't sure of what you could do to help. He calmed down at the movie night with a distraction...oh that reminds you, you fell asleep on him. Figuratively and literally.

“I'm sorry for falling asleep on you.” probably not the most tactful or elegant way of bringing this up.

Toby takes a minute to register you words. Not taking his eyes off Connor or ceasing his movements he says, “Eh.” as he gives a muted shrug and continues, “Your friend...Kirby...gave you a ride right?” He said Kirby's name like a question. You'd have to formally introduce the two at some point. Probably this weekend.

“Yea, he's sorry about being a weirdo Saturday, said he'd be more “present” this weekend.”

Toby doesn't say anything more and you let a silence fall over you two. It isn't awkward, at least to you, and you're content to just sit and wait for a while. However, it doesn't take long before Tim, Brian, and Barclay are all entering the den.

“Knew they'd be here,” Barclay says to the other two, “Sorry 'bout the wait YN, Jake's comin' down to give these guys a tour an' set them up. We'll leave when he gets down.” you nod and give the other two a muted wave 'hello'.

It isn't long before Jake is sliding down the banister and leading the group out of the room before Barclay can get on to him about his juvenile behavior. Sighing at the twenty-three year old's antics Barclay turns to you and looks at what you're wearing. Hiking boots and jeans, perfect but one thing is missing.

“C'mon let's go get duct taped.”

“Duct taped?”

“Yup, keeps ticks from climbing up you.”

So you make your way to his office where he sticks duct tape, sticky side up, around each ankle and just above and below your knees. All while explaining how if a tick started to try and climb up you the tape would make them stick and stay there. You'd end up with less ticks on your torso and hopefully none at all.

In no time the two of your were in the forest two baskets in hand and hunting for your immobile prey. The ramps were super easy to find and the first you knocked off the hunt list. Barlcay said they grow in the same area every year, knowing this you may have to come and grab some the next time they're in season. You can already taste how good your forager's pie tastes with the new earthy tones. Actual mushrooms were much harder to find, aside from the lobster mushrooms you were really only looking for some hedgehog mushrooms. They aren't rare or extremely difficult to find but you two aren't having any luck.

Barclay suggested a spot just past a little pond, and while you didn't find mushrooms you did find some Black Raspberry bushes. Not one to let ingredients go to waste Barclay starts picking some, and you grab some too. Maybe baking an easy Black Raspberry cobbler will be your consolation prize. Though Barclay isn't as placated as you are with the unexpected find. The man is still on the hunt for his lobster mushrooms. So you continue scouring the path and a little bit off it in search.

“We should head back, it's dark.” you state plainly after a few hours of searching and remaining mushroom less.

Barclay agrees, but makes the comment that he'll probably come out again in a day or two.

“If I find any I'll still give you some or helping out today.”

“It's fine I've got my treasures right here.” You shrug it off, because while you are a bit disappointed, you still have ramps and the opportunity to make cobbler. It's not all bad. Barclay on the other hand, you know, will not be letting this go so you expect he'll hand you a container of mushrooms sometime in the coming month if not this weekend.

Getting back to the lodge Barclay helps you cut off the duct tape and disposes of it and the hitch hikers you picked up. He sends you off to shower and check for stragglers before he would allow you to go home. Thankfully you had the foresight to bring a change of clothes and after retrieving them from your trunk you do as you're told.

Barclay was right you hadn't had a single tick on you and you feel much better after a shower. Getting out you already smell the alluring aroma of Barclay's kitchen. You must have taken a bit longer than you intended if he was already done with his own shower and already cooking for the lodge. Heading downstairs with your duffle bag in tow, you are stopped by Dani at the door.

You haven't seen her in a bit so the two of you catch up and have a chat. After a bit Aubrey comes in with a Tupperware container of grilled salmon and veggies over rice.

“Oh I see, you were a diversion.” you said looking at Dani as you take the container. Dani gives a sheepish smile before running off to the dinning room, and after sending you a coy smile of her own Aubrey follows after.

You know you're more than welcome to join them, but you really don't have the battery for that and just want to decompress at home.

“Thank you!” you call out into the lodge, only leaving after hearing the distant chuckles drifting through the hall.

Opening the door you run right into someone. Looking up you see Toby, but he isn't wearing a mask. Instead he's wearing a large bandage on his face to cover the hole. In his hands is a box of similar bandages. Guess if they're staying for a bit he'll need them around the others.

Should you mention the others wouldn't say anything? That this whole place was like Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, but for the misfits or the weird and disowned? You aren't really sure it's your place. And you aren't really sure you're comfortable with how comfortable you've gotten with Toby. You're probably crossing some boundary by over analyzing him so much. And he doesn't even know you're doing it.

Toby knocks you out of your head when he backs away and gives you space to exit the lodge.

“Get home safe.” it falls out of his mouth so easily.

You've noticed he has a habit of saying that...why? There you go over analyzing him, you need to stop. Shaking yourself from your thoughts this time you look at Toby with a smile.

“I will...I think you'll like it here.” when you're in your car you want to slam your head on the steering wheel but Toby is still watching. Why did you say that, you're so weird.

#ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #creepypasta fanfic #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright #timothy wright x brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas #masky x you #masky

[hailing-stars]

@febuwhump day 21: torture

a phone call away 

summary

“Tony,” he said. He opened both eyes just as Tony put the Gatorade and the pills on the bedside table. “What happened?”

“Don’t remember?” asked Tony, with a smirk that told Peter doom was imminent.

Peter stared at the Gatorade bottle, then looked down at the bright red cast on his arm. He wondered how he was expected to open bottles using only one hand. “This really sucks.”

“Yep,” said Tony. “Sounds about right. That’s what happens when you drink half your weight in alcohol.”

OR

Peter copes with his post-snap trauma by drinking. Tony worries, and helps. 

Peter opened his eyes, only to quickly shut them after being assaulted by the lights.

His headache blared to life, and his right arm was encased in a cast. He couldn’t remember what he’d done to earn this trouble. What he’d done to merit this rude awakening in Avengers Tower medbay, but he had a sinking suspicion it had all started with Flash and Abe bringing out the keg.

He groaned and pushed his head into the pillow and wished he was literally anywhere else.

“He’s alive.”

Peter popped one eye open and saw Tony by the doorway with Gatorade and a bottle of pain relievers in his hands.

“Tony,” he said. He opened both eyes just as Tony put the Gatorade and the pills on the bedside table. “What happened?”

“Don’t remember?” asked Tony, with a smirk that told Peter doom was imminent.

Peter stared at the Gatorade bottle, then looked down at the bright red cast on his arm. He wondered how he was expected to open bottles using only one hand. “This really sucks.”

“Yep,” said Tony. “Sounds about right. That’s what happens when you drink half your weight in alcohol.”

A memory hit him. One of the white hot pain in his arm, and one of having his head in the toilet, puking, while Tony hovered somewhere above him telling him to get it all out.

Peter groaned again. Maybe it was better not to remember.

“From the baby-monitor cam-”

“-really wish you’d stop calling it that-”

“-it looks like you were swinging under the influence,” said Tony, ignoring his complaint about the name, “and at some point you swung into a building, fell, hit the sidewalk and landed on your arm, all before trying to fight a trash can.”

“Did I at least win the fight?” asked Peter, miserably.

“You tell me.”

It was obvious, even to Peter, that he’d lost.

Peter vaguely remembered a swirl of streetlights, the impact of a brick wall, and flailing his legs and arms as he fell. It was clear from his harsh landing on the pavement that in his drunken state he hadn’t been quick enough to save himself from the fall with his web shooters.

“And if you’re a little foggy on the first part of your evening,” said Tony. “You might wanna turn your attention to Thomson’s Instagram.”

Peter closed his eyes, and muttered, “He didn’t.”

“Oh, he did,” said Tony.

“I’m gonna kill Flash.”

“If May doesn’t kill you first,” said Tony. “Or me, for that matter. What were you thinking?”

“I dunno. Maybe I wasn’t. It was just, a party, you know? It was fun. Was being the keyword I think,” said Peter. He lifted up his broken arm. “This definitely isn’t fun. How long do I have to have this on?”

“Forever.”

“Funny,” said Peter. He sighed. “So much for super healing.”

“Yeah, well, all that alcohol probably put a damper on your freaky spidey healing, so you’re just gonna have to heal like us normal folks, at least for a couple of days,” said Tony. “Which is just as well considering your aunt is probably gonna ground you.”

Peter groaned, threw his head back into his pillows, and stared at the unattainable, frosty Gatorade bottle. He tried to ignore his pounding headache, the way his eyes hurt and begged for the lights to be dimmed.

This hangover was torture. Though he probably deserved it.

“Do you mind, uh, opening that?” asked Peter, pointing at the Gatorade with his free hand.

Tony took the bottle from the nightstand, opened it, and handed it to Peter, who accepted it with his good hand and gulped down half the Gatorade in one drink. He left it open when he put it back down on the nightstand.

“Are you sure this was really just about a party?” started Tony. “That you really just having fun, because I -”

“-Tonnnyyyyy,” said Peter. The headache was torturous enough. He didn’t need a lecture to come with it.

“Kid, I’m just saying,” said Tony. “Take it from someone who was lucky Instagram didn’t exist during his party years.”

“I’m not you.”

“I know you aren’t,” said Tony. “But it can happen to the best of us, and Pete, this is the third time in a month you’ve been caught with alcohol. I’m supposed to believe there were times you weren’t caught?”

“You’re not supposed to believe anything,” said Peter. He closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can you dim the lights, please?”

Tony did what Peter asked, and dimed the lights. He sat back down in the bedside chair with a sigh. “I’m just worried about you. This isn’t like you at all -”

“-Can I please just rest?”

“Fine,” said Tony. “Fine. But we’re gonna have to talk about this sooner or later, and you know, I’m always a phone call away.”

Peter didn’t open his eyes again until he heard the doors just, until Tony was gone, and he was no longer at risk of having to talk about things.

*

Peter was supposed to be grounded.

May had reacted exactly the way Tony had told him she would, and sentenced him to two weeks in his apartment with only schoolwork and chores to keep him company. Chores that he couldn’t even properly do with one arm.

That hadn’t been such a big deal after a couple of days, which was the amount of time it had taken Peter’s arm to heal and for his cast to get taken off.

And when his arm became free, breaking grounding became easier, so he did, to escape his quiet apartment and his loud and menacing and threatening thoughts.

He crashed a party.

Someone at Midtown hosted it. He didn’t know who, really, and didn’t care to ask. He noticed none of his circle were around. Not even Flash, who usually got invited to every party and rarely turned down an invitation. He didn’t like it. The way parties and large rooms felt lonely and desert when they were absent of his friends.

Peter stayed only long enough to get a buzz going. It wasn’t the good kind, either. His thoughts stayed loud, only they were also swimming, and he’s sloppy as he stumbles around on the dark, New York street.

It occurred to him that was lost, and he was hit with that familiar dread that had occupied him while he was in space. That he may never get home. That he might disappear into the wind before he’s got the chance.

He shook and his breath came fast. He sweated, and wanted to cry, and wanted to be back in his bed or just stay in his apartment, watching TV with May.

“You know, I’m always a phone call away.”

The memory of Tony’s words broke him out of his panic, and slipped his hand into his pocket and fumbled around with his phone until he managed to press on Tony’s contact.

“Peter? What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” said Peter. He didn’t like the sound of his own voice. How desperate it sounded.

“It’s okay,” said Tony. “Where are you?”

“Lost.”

“Sit tight, alright? I’m gonna find you.”

They hung up, and Peter sat on a bench under a streetlight. He waited.

*

Peter didn’t throw up, but he wished he could.

He woke up the next day at Tony’s penthouse. He was nauseous, and shivered, even from under a pile of blankets, and he wished desperately that he could forget the night before. That wasn’t possible. His memories might have gaps in them, but he’ll never forget the paralyzing fear of being moments away from vanishing.

Tony must have been alerted that he’d woken up, because he pushed open the door to the guest room almost immediately.

“How’re you feeling?”

Peter sat up, slowly, and hugged the blankets closer to his body. “Like shit.”

“Sounds about right,” said Tony. “We still gotta talk about it, though. I let it slide last time, and it was a mistake.”

“My mistake,” said Peter. He shivered. “And don’t worry. I’m never going to drink again. Not after last night.”

Tony let the uncomfortable silence settle over them, and Peter didn’t like it. He had to fill the air with his explanation.

“Maybe I was using alcohol to escape,” he admitted. “You know it’s like sometimes my head is just so loud, and it feels like I’m going to be obliterated at any second, and alcohol numbed that. Made me forget.”

“Until it didn’t?” Tony had phrased it as a question, but Peter had no doubt the man knew where it was going. That maybe he’d been there and experienced it himself.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Last night it just made anything worse.”

“That happens,” said Tony. “Alcohol magnifies your emotions. Not a great way to deal with your trauma.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder in a sign of support, and there was relief written on his face. As if he’d been worried that entire time, but instead of helicoptering over him, had let him work it out on their own. Maybe they were both growing.

“Now the question is,” said Tony. “How do we prevent it from happening again?”

“I’m never going to-”

“-but you might. Shit happens, and if you don’t figure out a way to deal with these feelings, they’ll eat you alive, or make you turn to some pretty desperate solutions.”

“Talking to you and May helps.”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “But I think you may need to talk to someone else, like a professional.”

“You want me to go to therapy?”

“I think it would help you,” said Tony. “I speak from experience, I go, and it helps me, and if it can help me, it’ll help anyone.” He paused, chewed on his lip. “And hey, you’ll have someone to complain about me to.”

Peter laughed. “I don’t know if any therapist has that much time or patience.”

“Brat.”

“Just being honest,” said Peter.

“I’m gonna make you an appointment,” said Tony, quickly, before Peter could even properly make a decision either way.

“Yeah, okay,” said Peter.

He didn’t know if he would’ve agreed if Tony hadn’t made his choice so easy and clear, and although he was sure therapy would be difficult, he was content, thankful even, that he had people like Tony pointing him in the right direction.

#febuwhumpday21 #irondad #my fic #irondad fic #drunk Peter parker #angst #dealing with trauma

[slut4barzy]

sweethearts at the rodeo

jack hughes / new jersey devils

( synopsis : hughes get his heart broken for the second time  )

in dudley, texas only one thing holds importance to the youth in the spring time, and that was the sweethearts of the rodeo dance. every year when the rodeo comes to town theres always a special little dance held for people ages thirteen to twenty to come and have some good clean fun (as the parents like to think). for four years jack has been going to the dance, but tonight this would be his first year going without you. 

originally he was going to break his streak and not go. out of fear that he'd see you with someone else, and that would break his heart. but his mom pleaded, begged, and bribed him to take his sister since she was now of age and every girl's first sweetheart dance was like a coming of age in dudley. so eventually he gave in and went in the hopes that he'd see you there all miserable and alone just like he was.

"oh look theres yn!" savannah points out the second the two passed through the double doors of the town’s rec center. “she looks so pretty. let’s say hi!”

there you stood exactly like he didn’t want to see you, all smiley and under the arm of cory wormwood, a kid on his team that he didn’t like so much. savannah tugs on her brother's hand ready to drag them over to where you stood but jack stood firm, "i'm not going over there sav." 

huffing she stops and throws him an annoyed look. "are you going to cry again? can you just be cool and say hi. i miss her, and i want her to see how pretty my dress turned out.” he takes his hand out of his sisters hold and crosses his arms over his chest, “you can go see her but i’m not.”

savannah rolls her eyes, scoffing, “you’re such a pissbaby. i’ll be right back.” but she couldn’t make it far because while they were bickering you spotted them and were walking right over. savannah gives him a side eye with a little smirk playing on her lips, “can’t run away now, huh lover boy?” she elbows him and in return he elbows her back harder. “shut up,” he mumbles. 

“savannah! i was wondering when you were going to get here.” The two girls engulfed each other as if they haven’t seen each other in forever, which was the truth, because in their terms five months felt like an eternity. “god you look so cute. is that eyeliner you did?” savannah nodded, “ma let me do just for tonight. i tried the technique you showed me.” 

savannah always looked up to you. not only were you the only girl close to her age that she can talk to when she lives in a house with three rowdy older brothers, but she admires everything about you from the way you act to the clothes you wear. sometimes jack would joke and tell you to watch out before she ends up stealing your identity but you didn’t care. to you savannah was the doting younger sister that you never had. 

“i can tell.” you pick at her baby blue dress, “and your dress! I think you won miss. sweetheart tonight sav.” savannah squeals making jack roll his eyes. “don’t flatter her.” “oh shut up!” savannah interjects.

for the first time tonight you focus your attention to jack. making a face you reply, “why not. with the way your mom was able make a miracle out of an old curtain she just has to win.”  

playfully you swat savannah’s shoulder, “your mom made you take this bozo as a date. luke would’ve been better.” she shrugs, “lukes’ date is hannah denver and with quinn away i had no choice.” 

“ah,” you respond. “lucky for you i heard a little eight grade boy has been dying to ask you for a dance but he’s just too shy to ask. so i promised i’d do it for him, of course, only if your date doesn’t mind.” savannah gasps her eyes widening looking at jack for approval. he nods of course not wanting to ruin her night.  

“who is it?” “billy ryan,” you reply subtly pointing your head towards the direction of the stage. “he’s standing by the stage.” savannah squeals again planting a kiss on your cheek, “i’ll see you two later.” then off she zoom to have her first of many sweetheart dance and leaving two ex lovers alone. 

the band stops and soon the first couple of cords to the byrds you ain’t goin’ nowhere begins to play. you clear your throat trying to get the attention of the boy who was staring down at his shows like it was the most interesting thing of the night. he looks up, “what?” 

“you’re not going to ask me to dance? you know this is my favorite song.”

he clears his throat, “would you like to dance yn?” you shrug with a soft smile, “one wouldn’t hurt.” 

as jack whisked you off to the middle of the dance floor and as you were pressed against him, for a second everything almost felt right again. as if you were still his. 

"you look really pretty tonight." you lifts your head from where it was resting on his shoulder and looked him square in his eyes. he didn't know if it was his imagination or the lighting, but you were glowing. a sweet smiles plays on your lips, "really?"

he nods, "mhm." 

"thank you. you know you're the fifth boy to tell me so. i must look like a goddess of something."

you rest your head back on his shoulder. maybe it was because of the closeness of you that made him lose himself but he decided to blurt out what was right on his mind.

"we should get back together, you and me. i miss you."

"now hughes you know we can't get back together."

he frowns not liking your answer one bit. was this the same yn that cried the day you broke up with him?

"why not?"

"because i don't want to."

you sigh, "don't take this harshly but i can't go back to dating you. of course what we had was special, but i can’t deal with all the crying and fighting that we did. and don’t get me started on the other girls."

you giggle in what jack thought was a poor attempt to lighten up the mood "plus i like being single. who knew that so many boys were interested in me now that i didn't have hughes's girl stuck to my forehead."

you felt him go stiff and stopped your swaying. placing a hand on his cheek you said, "the offer to be friends is still on the table. you're always welcome by our house for dinner mama said so. even daddy misses you. he says that for once the teams not playing like dog shit this season and wants to let you know you're doing great."

you frown not liking the way he was letting you ramble on. "please say something jack."

he clears his throat, "yeah i-i'll stop by one day. " he stammers. smiling you say, "i'll always love you jack. you were my first love. we’ve been together for five years, and five years is a long time for teenagers to date just one person.”

"yo, yn!" it was cory. the two turned back and saw him standing by the drink table with two of his friends and his bow tie undone from the sloppy smile jack knew he was tipsy.

cory whistled and waved her over, “are you here with me tonight or hughes?” you giggles up putting up your hand, “gimme five minutes okay.” 

“make it two” he retorts

“three?” she calls back. “deal!”

you turns back with a huge smile on your face. a pang goes off in his heart cause he knows from now on that smile will never be for him. “i should go now, but i’ll defiantly give you a call about dinner at my house.”

then she stops herself, “unless i forget. then you should give me a call instead.” 

“with your memory i’ll give you a call.”

 “how about-”

 “i won’t forget. i promise.” 

“perfect.” rising on the toes of her heels she plants a quick kiss on his cheek. “i’ll see you around hughes.”

and as she bounced back to cory and into his arms jack would be lying if he said tears didn’t start brimming his eyes. 

( SEA SAYS 🧚🏾‍♂️ )

don’t you love the way I keep popping up and disappearing? can we just talk about my consistency. i realized i haven’t posted an actual story since march, yum, but you all understand. this isn’t my official coming  back because with the spring semester coming up i might just disappear again. as always sorry for any mistakes and i hope you like it.

aren’t you glad hockeys back!

#hockey #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #jack hughes #nhl #new jersey devils imagines

[thesightstoshowyou]

Hurt Me

John Ryder (The Hitcher 2007) x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Your car breaks down along a deserted stretch of road. The man that stops to pick you up might be the best or worst thing to ever happen to you.

There is a disturbing lack of content for this man and I intend to remedy that.

Warnings: Dubcon, masochistic reader, mention of family death, knife play, blood play, fear play, fingering, slapping, violence, blood, creampie

 ~~

            Smoke billows from under the hood of your 1999 Piece of Garbage Accord. You curse under your breath, hitting the steering wheel with your palms as though that will stop the inevitable death of the engine. With a final, guttering sigh, the car rolls to a stop along the endless stretch of New Mexican highway.

           Stupid fucking car.

           You’d done as the signs had instructed. You hadn’t run the air conditioning all day, instead leaving the windows down so miserably hot, desert air could blow your hair into a rat’s nest. Still, your shitty car had decided to die anyway.

           After banging your head against the steering wheel for a solid minute, you pop the hood and slip out of the car. You stare at the innards of your smoking vehicle, wondering why the hell you’re even bothering. You know nothing about cars. You don’t even know what’s wrong let alone how to fix it.

           The sun had set about two hours ago, and the heat had gone with it. The thick layer of sweat that had accumulated over your entire body like a slimy shell is now chilling you to the bone, your thin jacket doing little to keep you warm. A breeze picks up too, making you shiver and hunch down further in your coat.

           Scrubbing a hand down your face, you walk to the yellow line along the side of the highway, looking despairingly back and forth. You are alone, the rushing of wind and chirping of crickets the only sound. You’d maybe only seen about three cars all day and even if someone drove by, the likelihood they would stop to pick you up is minimal. No one picks up hitchhikers anymore.

           Your cell phone had croaked last week and you had yet to acquire enough funds to replace it. So, your options are to walk until you find a gas station or wait in your car for…for what? A miracle?

           Decision made for you, you retrieve your keys and wallet and head east. You can’t remember what the last sign had said about the next service station, but you have a sneaking suspicion it is much farther than you’re comfortable walking. You wore the wrong shoes for this.

           Hours passed and you’re still plodding along down the road. Your hips and knees ache and your shoes have rubbed your ankles raw. You’re just beginning to hope a pack of coyotes will come and kill you when you hear it; the rumbling of an engine careening down the road toward you.

           You twist around and see a set of headlights approaching quickly. You wave your arms and try to look as distressed as you can. Please, please, please stop….

           The car slows. You can feel the noisy roar of the engine vibrating in your own chest. A black Trans Am rolls to a stop ahead of you.

           “Jesus, thank you, thank you,” you repeat, running to the open window. Bending to peek inside you find a lone middle-aged man, caramel colored hair trimmed short, copious stubble peppering a strong jaw. He flashes you a disarming smile, white teeth almost abnormally straight.

           “You okay? Was that your car I saw back there?” he asks, voice deep and smooth like bourbon. Your eyes flick to the wedding ring on his finger. If he’s married that might cut down on the chance of him being a murderer.

           “Yeah, the old bitch died on me.” The man chuckles and you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.

           “Hop in, I’ll take you to the next gas station.” He seems nice enough, but that’s how they get you, isn’t it? But what choice did you have? Keep walking until your feet bleed or until you freeze to death? What are the odds he’ll hurt you, anyway?

           “Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” You slip into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. The engine roars and you’re off, speeding down the road at a speed you’re not entirely comfortable with. You’re loath to say anything, though, lest you lose your ride. You buckle your seatbelt instead.

           “I’m John,” he says, quickly throwing another charming smile your way before turning his eyes back to the road. You tell him your name and fight the blush creeping across your cheeks. He’s handsome, no denying that, but something feels a bit off. It’s his eyes. They’d looked…empty. The smile hadn’t reached them.

             It’s warm in the cab, much warmer than outside. You slip out of your jacket, John unabashedly watching as you do. Married, you’re married, dude….

            “Where you headed?” he asks, fiddling with the stereo. Some sappy love song croons through the speakers. John switches it off, instead letting the hum of the engine fill the car.

            “Amarillo. My, uh…my aunt passed. Her funeral’s tomorrow.”

            “Oh, sorry to hear.”

            “Thanks. How about you?” You’re anxious to change the subject before you recall too much of the conversation with your mother you’d had earlier in the week. John hums in thought at your question.

             “Wherever I end up.” You find that answer odd. What about the wedding ring? Doesn’t he have a wife?

             “No one…no one to get home to?” you inquire, unease beginning to settle in your belly. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches you glancing at his ring. His lips twitch up in a smirk.

             “No.”

             “Oh,” is all you can come up with. You swallow, regretting your decision to get in this car. So, he doesn’t have a wife? Or something happened to her? You don’t understand, but you’re afraid to ask, afraid to know the answer.

             Glancing at the passenger side door, you find there is no door handle. Your heart stutters. There’s no visible lock either. John must notice because he chuckles again, low and dark.

            You shriek when he slams on the breaks, your seatbelt catching you hard in the chest but saving you from smashing into the dash. John cranks the wheel, whipping the car onto a dirt side road. Your nails dig into the seat as the car thunders down the uneven path before skidding to a stop.

            There’s nothing around you but an endless stretch of moonlight desert, no one around for miles and miles. No one to save you. You’re alone, completely alone with this man. Get out, run.

            You scrabble at your seatbelt but as soon as it slips off your shoulder there’s a click to your left. You freeze when cool steel meets your throat. A knife. You release a tremulous exhale through your nose and settle back into your seat, your heart slamming against your ribs so loud you think he can probably hear it.

           “Good girl,” John purrs, killing the engine and unbuckling his own seat belt. The sudden silence is unnerving, no noise around you but for your shallow breaths. He reaches under his seat and pulls the lever, sliding the seat back as far as it can go. “C’mere,” he says, spreading his legs and patting his thigh.

           You stare at him fearfully, eyes wide. You can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe your shit luck. Out of all the people in this entire state to pick you up, it had to be this psycho.

            You hiss when he presses the knife into your skin just hard enough to prick and draw blood. It’s a warning. As scarlet trickles down past the collar of your shirt, you suppress the shiver the stinging pain brings, clench your thighs to stop the pleasure that zings up between them. Not now. That is the last thing you need.

            Sweat beading along your brow, you clamber over the center console to straddle his legs and settle into his lap. That smile is back, friendly, pleasant but for his eyes. His eyes are dead, empty as he drags them down your figure. You quickly look away, not wanting him to see the flush in your cheeks.

            Out of the corner of your eye, you watch John’s eyes narrow curiously. Knife still pressed against your flesh, he grips your chin with his free hand, turning your head until you’re looking at him again. You tremble in his grip, two parts terrified of him, one part fearful he’s going to discover your little secret.

            He knows something is up. You can see it in the way his eyes study your rosy cheeks and heaving chest. Leisurely, he drags the knife lightly down your sternum, between your breasts, past your waist before lifting the hem of your shirt with the blade. You squeak when he exposes your bra before stuffing the edge of your shirt in your mouth.

           “Hold that,” he orders before turning his attention to your abdomen. In a flash he cuts you, blade slicing horizontally through your flesh, deep crimson spilling down your stomach and soaking into your jeans. As hot, sharp pain morphs into sticky pleasure, your muffled scream tapers off into a warbly moan. You flush a dark red, hating yourself for allowing that noise to escape you.

            “Interesting,” he murmurs before ripping your shirt from your mouth, sawing through the fabric and tearing it away from your body. You screech and thrash, falling still when the knife returns to your neck. The metallic scent of your blood fills the cab, sharp and pungent in your nose.

            Once again, blade meets flesh and John carves a sloppy line under your collar bone. You grunt and try your best to stifle the mewl that slips off your tongue, but he hears it anyway. John lets out a breathy laugh, smearing the blood leaking from the newest slash up your neck with the palm of his hand.

            “Never seen that before,” he comments, more to himself than you. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your bottom lip quivering under his bloody thumb when he caresses the skin. He continues, speaking directly to you now, “You like it.”

            You shake your head, another scream ripping from your throat when he traces a rib with the blade, splitting your flesh open until you’re leaking crimson. You can’t mask the shaky moan, the “Please,” that sneaks from your mouth and you hang your head in shame. Between your thighs, you’re burning, soaking your underwear, quivering and needy. Desperate for friction, you grind down into his lap, pulling a startled grunt from him.

            “Fuck,” John mutters, fisting a hand in your hair and yanking your head back, latching onto your neck and dragging his tongue through the blood smeared across your skin. He bites you under the jaw, hard, probably hard enough to break the skin. You whine and arch into his mouth, hand flying to the window to brace yourself.

             “How far have you taken this?” he asks, tilting your head back down until you’re looking into his dead eyes. There’s a spark there now, curiosity and a little heat. You release a haggard breath and shake your head to calm your racing thoughts.

             “U-um, I…have—haven’t, really,” you stammer. Why are you telling him this? John’s eyes narrow. He’s connecting the dots.

            “No one knows,” he says, mouth splitting into a grin, “Do they?” It isn’t a question. He can read you like a fucking book. He groans under his breath when you look away, blinking away the tears pooling along your bottom lid.

            “It’ll be our secret,” he murmurs, tapping the flat of the knife against your lips. He releases your hair, fingers going to the button of your shorts and snapping them open. You tense and whimper when he pushes his hand inside to drag his fingers along your drenched slit.  

             “Fucking Christ,” he exclaims, pulling his hand from your panties and forcing you to look at your slick coating his fingers. He meets your heavy-lidded gaze and sucks the wet digits into his mouth. You inhale sharply, biting the inside of your cheek.

             His hand returns to your underwear and he pushes two fingers past your folds, curling them delightfully. You keen, hips bucking into his hand when he massages that tender spot within you. His other hand goes to your hip, urging the roll of your hips.

             “Fuck yourself, good, like that,” he instructs, hand leaving your hip to slip the knife under your ear. You can help the pleased little noises that escape you as you grind down onto his fingers. Delicious heat curls in your gut and, deliriously, you wonder how many shades of fucked up you are to be enjoying this.

             “You want me to hurt you?” John asks, pulling your face down until your lips are inches from his own. You pant, only hesitating a moment before you nod. “Ask me,” he says through gritted teeth, huffing quietly when your wet cunt squelches around his fingers.

             “P-Please…please h-hurt me, John,” you whisper. Christ, what if he kills you? Had you just signed your own death certificate?

             “Polite,” John comments. Lightning fast, he twists and sinks the blade into the hand you have splayed out on the center console. You scream, tensing, riding out the putrid agony as it immobilizes your arm and groaning noisily as the pain is slowly replaced with feverish pleasure. You clench around the fingers inside you, feeling the heat curling into tight pressure.

             “Jesus, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He sounds shocked and almost…excited. You don’t hear what he says next as that pressure within you implodes, shock waves wracking your core. You sob, bowing forward as your hips twitch through mind-numbing climax.

             John gives you no time to come down from your high. He rips the knife from you hand, pulling another shriek of pain from your throat. You cradle your mangled palm to your chest as he throws the car door open.

             He shoves you hard and you tumble out the door with a muffled cry, sprawling on your ass in the dirt. John quickly follows, digging a hand in your hair and hauling you to your feet with the other hand under your armpit. Half shoving, half dragging, he forces you to the front of the car and shoves you down over the hood. The metal is still warm under your uninjured palm as you brace for the inevitable. Your heart races in your chest and you know you would beg for it if he wanted you to.

             John rips your shorts off your hips. You hear the hasty slide of his zipper and the rustle of clothing and then you feel him at your entrance, hot and hard. One forceful thrust and he buries his cock completely within you.

             You shout, the sweet ache of such a sudden intrusion making your stomach muscles clench. John wastes no time in hammering you into the hood of his car, heedless of any pain you might be feeling. He’s trying to hurt you, after all.

             “Fuck, that’s tight,” John groans, using the hand in your hair to wrench your neck back painfully, too far. Your grunts of pain turn high and girlish, every brutal snap of his hips making the line between pleasure and pain blur until you can’t tell which is which anymore.

             Drool and tears spill from you face onto the golden wings of the Firebird beneath your palms. You feel John’s fingers sneaking up your waist. He digs his nails into the gash on your ribs and your scream echoes across the quiet desert. Your vision narrows to pinpoints and your head lolls, falling against the hood with a quiet thud.

             “No, not yet,” John growls, pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back. He slaps you across the cheek and your eyes snap open. You blink wildly, trying to orient yourself, but he’s already throwing your legs over his shoulder and lining up again.

             “Look at me,” he orders, gripping your jaw and forcing your gaze to his. You see stars when he fucks into you, pitiful whimpers spilling from your parted lips.

             “Yeah, yes, please, John, please, god, god, oh god—

             You’re speaking, you think, but you’re not sure what you’re saying. Maybe you cum again, but the pain is finally starting to win out, your torso and hand throbbing in time with your fluttering heart. You’re dizzy, the Earth lurching horribly when you turn your head. You’ve lost too much blood you think, or maybe you’re still reeling from the orgasm.

             Finally, John’s hips meet yours with one final, harsh thrust. Distantly, you hear him moan your name, feel the warmth in your cunt as he paints it white. Your eyelids droop and you reach out to clumsily pat his forearm.

             John drops your legs. Without him to hold you up, you slip off the hood, landing in the dirt a second time with a grunt. You shiver, the ground cold against your bare skin. Cold, and so, so tired….

**

             You awake to bright, piercing light behind your eyelids. You blink, scrunching your eyes. There’s an IV pole above you, bags dripping into a pump. You follow the line down to your arm. Scratchy hospital sheets grate against your legs, the stiff gown sagging down your shoulder. You ache in so many places, the deepest of which is between your legs.

             “Officer, she’s awake!” Blearily, you look up as two cops enter the room. They look uncomfortable, glancing to one another, silently deciding who will speak first.

Memory hits you like a punch in the gut. John. He hadn’t killed you after all. What happened after you passed out?

             The officers kindly explain you were assaulted and dumped, bloody and half-dead behind a motel along the highway. They ask if you remember anything. You tell them the wrong make and model of vehicle. You say you were unconscious the rest of the time. You don’t remember.

             “Nothing at all?” You shake your head. They ask a few more questions, none of which you answer with anything useful. Once you’re alone again, you lift up the gown to inspect the stiches on your abdomen, gently tracing the wound along your ribs. You flinch when it stings and a small smile creeps across your face.

#john ryder #john ryder x reader #the hitcher #the hitcher 2007 #n sfw #dubcon #masochistic reader #reader insert #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #blood #violence #my writing #family member death