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nickfowlerrr · 9 months

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i never thought you’d happen to me - 3

part one / part two

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst maybe? allusion to, but no actual, smut. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 2.6k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

As you pull up to their house, the soft glow from the few lights still on inside light up the windows along the front face. Bucky parks as you unbuckle and meets you as you open the passenger door, Wolfie in your hand as you stand.

You make your way up their porch quickly before Bucky knocks softly on the front door. It opens not too much later as Steve greets you both, holding Linc with one arm as he carries the still pouting boy, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder and chest as his arms hold onto his Uncle as comfortably as he can.

The second he registers its you guys, his bright blue eyes go wide, turning to Steve with a look of surprise, his mouth parting open like he can’t believe his own eyes, before he turns back to you both and stretches his arms out to Bucky, hitting Steve a bit as he does, but not seeming to register it in his excitement. Steve chuckles as he hands him over to Bucky, who takes him in his arms readily.

“Hi, Daddy,” Linc greets as he cuddles into Bucky’s chest, looking like he’s about to pass out any second now.

“Hey, buddy,” he smiles, “We brought you Wolfie.”

“Don’t need Wolfie,” he shakes his head, burying his face in Bucky’s shirt. “You, Daddy.”

You see the moment it clicks in Bucky’s mind that all Linc really wanted was him, and you can’t help but smile at the gleam in his eyes as he hugs his son tighter.

“Here, come in,” Steve tells you both, urging you inside. “I think Ellie’s sleeping, already,” he continues as he leads you to the kid’s room. Peeking inside, you can see her sleeping soundly, the spot near her, reserved for Licoln, obviously empty. You stare for a moment longer before Bucky steps beside you.

“We’re gonna try and go to sleep now, okay?” he tells Linc, who nods softly.

As Bucky enters the room, you find yourself alone with Steve in the hallway, who is staring at you quizzically.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothin’,” he brushes off. “It’s just..” he stops himself, thinking through what he wants to say before he continues carefully. “Are you guys alright?”

You look at him like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah,” you breathe with a bit too fervent of a nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Just want to make sure. You guys have been acting odd all day. And look, if it’s a secret or something, that’s fine.. But, you know you can tell us anything. I just want to make sure everything’s alright,” he says sincerely, looking at you in the way only he can, a trust and understanding in his eyes that makes you want to come clean just like that. On instinct, you find yourself opening your mouth to confess your situation, but catch yourself before letting the absurdity slip.

“It is a secret,” you say, smiling through a grimace. “But, I promise, we’re good.”

He looks at you thoughtfully once more before conceding with a nod. “Okay,” he says before offering you a small smile.

The door creaks open a bit wider once again and you expect to find Bucky alone, coming out from getting Linc down.

So when he opens the door even wider and walks out with a twin in each arm, a sorry smile on his lips as he meets your eye, you can’t help but scoff in amusement.

Ellie is snoozing against him as Lincoln holds onto Wolfie like his life depends on it. His eyes are tired but he fights it still.

“I tried,” Bucky defends himself, “but Ellie woke up and they sweet talked me.”

“Can’t blame you,” Steve laughs, “Poppy suckered me into extra s’mores earlier with one puppy dog look alone, I can’t imagine what double toddler pouts would get outta me.”

Bucky laughs in turn, a look of pure happiness in his eyes as he watches his best friend in such simple joy talking about his kids. Steve is happy. Nat is happy. And you, he thinks, you’re happy too. He doesn’t know how or when you all luck out on this, but just knowing that this is the future that awaits him, he’s excited to go back to the present so he can live out every moment of this with you.

Ellie’s eyes flutter at the sound of your laugh at Steve’s story and she gingerly picks her head up, her eyes looking around. When she spots you, she lets her eyes close again as a smile graces her precious face, one arm blindly reaching out in your direction.

You see her and gently take her from Bucky’s hold, holding her tightly against you as she nuzzles into you. Her hand is petting you gently, like she’s ensuring you’re there and you feel her. You smile at the affectionate gesture until her small voice makes its way to your ears.

“Momma,” she sighs sleepily as she cuddles into your neck before her movements eventually stop and she’s sleeping once again.

And that was it. Her sweet, soft voice did it. You had to turn away from her as best you could as you tried not to choke on your cry - not wanting to wake her up and alarm her as your eyes welled and a tear slipped, your hand running up and down her back soothingly.

You could see the concern written all over Steve’s face as he looked at you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been feeling really emotional lately,” you try to write off the sudden display of emotions taking over you.

“Oh. Oh,” he realizes. He nods, almost dumbly, “right, right.”

You know what he’s putting together in his mind, but you don’t have the energy to correct him. That can be a problem for future you to tamper down. You sniffle, trying to collect yourself as you hold Ellie securely in your arms. You look to Bucky with an unspoken question.

“I think we’re gonna take ‘em home, this little guy doesn’t wanna sleep tonight,” Bucky says, patting Linc’s back gently. “But thank you guys for watching them today.”

“Yeah, of course. And hey, we can pick them up on our way out tomorrow if you guys still wanted the day. Poppy and Al have been looking forward to it all week.”

“That’d be great,” you nod with a smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime.”

You all walk to the front door and part with hugs before you and Bucky get the sleepy toddlers buckled in their seats. This time is much easier than it was this morning now that they’re thoroughly exhausted and not wiggling around like worms.

You shut the doors gently before getting in yourselves, Bucky driving you all back to the house in a peaceful quiet.

—

It’s easy getting them out of the car, each of you holding one as you enter back inside.

You and Bucky carry them to their room, thinking they’re finally settled, but as you try to put them down in their beds, neither of them will let go of you guys. Ellie is clearly still sleepy as she huffs annoyedly at you for trying to leave her when she’s so comfy, and Linc is awake again as he holds onto Bucky and Wolfie.

“Big bed, daddy,” he mumbles, looking at him with those pleading eyes.

Bucky looks at you, finding you holding Ellie close once again, not having put her down after her huffing. You shrug and watch as he nods, turning back to grab Lincoln.

“Alright,” he sighs, “come on, buddy. But we have to go to bed now, got it?”

“Mhm,” he nods happily, hugging Bucky’s neck.

You smile at the scene before making your way to the bedroom, thankful that all of you are already in pajamas as you sit on the bed with Ellie.

“I’m gonna lay down with you in a second, baby,” you reassure her quietly before setting her down, her head on a pillow near the center of the bed.

You take off your shoes as Bucky puts Lincoln down next to Ellie and does the same. You look at the twins, Lincoln finally letting his eyes close as his breaths slow and steady and sleep takes him at last. Bucky walks over to you and turns your face to him gently. You touch his wrist gingerly as you look in his eyes, stepping in closer. Being so close has never felt so right.

“What time did you fall asleep last night?” you ask him softly.

“Around midnight.”

“Me too,” you nod.

“Guess we still have a few hours to enjoy this,” he says, dropping his hand from your cheek in favor of pulling you closer by your waist, looking over with a bittersweet smile to the twins on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agree, “...and then what?”

“And then… we go back. Start living this all out in real time. Enjoy every second,” he says, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“Not the worst way to start forever,” you muse.

“Forever, huh?” he asks with a smirk.

“As long as we both shall live,” you nod with a smile of your own.

He titters before kissing you again, your lips moving softly against his. “Who woulda thought.”

“Mmm… everyone but us, apparently,” you laugh breathily before brushing his lips with yours once more. You move to pull away but Bucky keeps you where you are, kissing you a little more firmly as his hands lightly squeeze your chubby waist. Finally, you part for air, his forehead falling to yours as you take a second to catch your breath, licking your lips a touch.

A mumble followed by a huff sounds from the bed, catching both your attentions. You turn and see Ellie moving around before she speaks, more clearly this time.

“Mommy,” she eeks out, voice groggy with sleep as she rolls over.

“I guess this is goodnight,” you smile softly.

“Goodnight,” he says, giving you a soft smile of his own, tightening his hold on you for a second as he admires you still before him. “I’ll find you in the morning,” he promises.

You nod, the thought sending your tummy fluttering. “Okay.”

You slowly part and walk around to your sides of the bed, getting in carefully so as not to wake the twins. As you settle in, Ellie senses you near and crawls to you, hugging you as she settles into your warmth. You look over and see Linc already rolled into Bucky in turn. Your eyes meet Bucky’s then as you share a smile. You scooch closer to them, and he meets you near the middle - the four of you comfortable as can be under the comforter.

“Call me crazy,” he whispers, “but I’m looking forward to this already.”

You huff out a laugh at that before shaking your head lightly, “‘S’not that crazy,” you admit, sounding almost shy to yourself at the confession before glancing over at him again.

He looks so happy, his brilliant eyes shining even through the darkened room. “Goodnight, doll,” he offers again.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you whisper back.

With the twins cuddled up between you both, it isn’t long before all of you are sleeping soundly.

—-

It’s quiet when you wake up.

And cold.

You hate that.

You slowly blink your eyes open, finding yourself in your room back at the tower once again. You check the clock. 3:02am.

Your mind is racing and a weird feeling is growing in your stomach. You quickly recognize it as anxiety as you try to calm yourself down. The one thought that is at the forefront of your mind, over everything, is this: Was it real?

You sit up and take a second to orient yourself in the dark before getting up. You don’t bother with the lights, you go straight for the door to your room.

You pull it open as quietly as you can manage before walking into the hallway. It’s dark out here, too, but not pitch black. The glow from the soft lights down the hall offer you some sight before you follow them. No one is in the living room when you get there, though, the lights had just been left on apparently. You sigh, still struggling to comprehend if you’d just woken up from a very real seeming dream or if you really had just been in the future for 24 hours. You turn to start back down the hallway again. As you get to the entryway, you see a figure coming down, stopping you in your tracks as you try to see who it is. You step closer after a moment, too, curiosity eating at you - yelling at you to find out who it is.

Another step and then the figure becomes more clear. When you get to the point where you can both see each other, you both still and idle a moment - both of you seeming to be equally unsure.

Bucky takes a step to you, testing the waters. And you copy his movement. You stare at one another a second, your breathing getting heavier.

Suddenly, you lose your patience. You can’t take it any longer, you muster your courage and with a deep, albeit shaky breath, you walk to him again. He moves just as swiftly as you now, more confident in his path before meeting you in the middle of the hallway.

No words pass your lips, the moment you’re close enough to touch, Bucky has you flush against him as he crashes his lips into yours. You’re pulling him to you before he just lifts you off your feet, forcing you to hold onto him - not that you really minded all that much. Your arms are wound around his neck, your fingers in his hair as your thick thighs are around him, his hands holding you with no effort at all. The kiss is intent and fervent and long overdue here. He doesn’t let up and neither do you - every emotion you’d been holding back finally spilling as you lose yourself in him.

You have to break the kiss eventually, breathing heavier than you had been as you try to collect yourself as you press your forehead to his. Bucky holds you tightly, refusing to let you go as his eyes close - a shudder you almost didn’t notice passing over him.

“I love you,” he confesses quietly, almost pained. “‘M sorry if that’s too soon, but I need you to know. I do.”

“Bucky,” you utter, touching his cheek gently, urging him to look at you. You shake your head lightly, “don’t be sorry.”

You kiss him again, gentler now.

“I love you,” you breathe softly against his lips.

He smiles into your kiss, a sense of relief coming over you both as he hugs you tightly before he sets you down on your feet.

You look at him with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours before you slowly start down the hall again.

“My room or yours?” you ask without pretense, leading the way.

“My bed’s bigger,” he says, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you bridal style down the hall. “Hope you like it, because I don’t plan on letting you leave it for the next 24 hours. At least.

“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. And a lot of future to catch up to,” he smiles as he carries you across the threshold before setting you gently down on his bed.

“Hm,” you simper, easily grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you, the sight of him above you sending that growing ever familiar thrill of anticipation through you, “we should really get started then.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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melodygatesauthor · 3 months

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Praying for Love

Marc Spector X Stripper f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For the @moonknight-events Bingo Event!

Prompt: "Beg."

Summary:

Marc comes to the club where you work every week religiously. He always asks you the same question, and you always give him the same answer, no matter how pretty he looks when he's begging.

Tags/Warnings:

NSFW, stripper reader, dirty talk, begging, teasing, lap dance, coming in pants, drinking, mentions of (Marc) being drunk.

Word Count: 1.1k

You stood between Marc’s legs, dancing the same dance you did every other night he waltzed into the club. He grabbed onto your hips, his hands squeezing tighter than usual.

“Marc, you know you’re not supposed to–”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture, honey.”

You bent over, planting your ass in his face the way he liked. You felt him tuck some bills into your panties right in front of your cunt.

He chuckled, “oh, you’re wet, having a good time?”

You turned around and looked down at him, “not as good a time as you,” you nodded, staring right at the bulge in his pants.

His cheeks flushed, and he scowled coldly at you. Despite being a difficult man, Marc was one of your favorite, and best customers. He was easy to pull a few hundred dollars out of every night with the simple act of making him think you loved him. The man was so desperate for affection and touch he’d be willing to spend any amount just to have you lie to him.

That’s not to say that you didn’t care for him in some way. You weren’t heartless, but you cared about him the way a grocery store clerk might care about the old woman sharing her life story at the checkout line unprompted. You could call it natural human empathy. Marc was a sad man, and you were trying to pay rent. The two of you had a symbiotic relationship.

He didn’t want a real relationship anyway.

You carded your fingers through his lightly gelled hair, climbing into his lap one leg at a time and straddling him. You lowered yourself so you were brushing against his bulge, rubbing your cunt along the hard length of him. You bit your lip.

“So hard for me, Marc, so big,” you leaned in, kissing the skin right below his earlobe.

“Fuck, honey,” he whispered in a raspy tone, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath.

You churned your hips more, whining into his ear and making sure to sound desperate. He liked when you really acted like you wanted him. It wasn’t far from the truth. Of all the men you’d danced for in the bar, Marc was in the top five that you’d consider actually sleeping with. You weren’t going to though. You had a strict policy of not sleeping with your customers. They tended to get too attached.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t ruin a pair of pants or two though. It always kept them coming back for the hopes that next time you might give them more.

“When are you gonna let me fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?” He asked in a low grumble.

You chuckled, “maybe if you beg real nice I’ll consider it.”

Marc sneered at you, lip curling up in a snarl. He grabbed your asscheeks roughly, eyes locking onto yours while he looked at you from under his lashes. He always got a little rough when he was that drunk, and you liked it.

“Just fuck me, come on.” He rubbed the meat of your hip, trying very clearly to keep his composure.

“You gotta do better than that,” you whispered, grinding your crotch even harder against his.

“Fuck, just take it out, please, just sit on my dick for a second baby. Just a goddamn second. I won’t tell,” he looked up at you, eyes pleading desperately.

You dragged yourself along his clothed bulge again, watching his eyelashes flutter so pretty.

“You want this?” You rocked yourself on him again. “You want my pussy baby?”

You moaned in his ear, peppering soft kisses along his jawline in between each breath you took.

“Beg,” you demanded.

He growled and held your hips against his lap tightly, rutting upward and breathing heavy.

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars just to let me stick the tip in. Just let. me. fuck. you.” He breathed.

You tutted, rolling yourself over him more, moving your body in a dancing motion like you were supposed to all along.

“Is that all you think I’m worth? A thousand bucks?” You chuckled. “I’m not a cheap whore, try again big spender.”

You bit your lip and you could tell you were starting to get under his skin. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, you felt his cock getting impossibly hard underneath you. You could hear his breathing grow more ragged. If looks could kill, Marc Spector killed you ten times over just now.

“Honey, I’m not gonna last much longer and I know you want this. That little pussy of yours is so wet, why don’t you give it what it wants, hm?” He tucked his fingers into the leg of your panties, under the bills he’d put in there and he brushed his knuckle against your swollen clit.

You leaned in and whispered, “baby boy, I’ve been wet since my shift started a couple hours ago. You’re not special for making me horny. I do this job for a reason.”

His brow turned up and stitched together in the most pathetic look you’d ever seen on a man. He sucked in his bottom lip and looked up at you, eyes pleading desperately.

“What do I have to do,” he conceded his ego, and for that you almost - almost - gave in.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you said against his ear, flicking his lobe with the tip of your tongue.

As if his body was under your command, he came, cock twitching wildly against the zipper of his pants. You sighed, kissing his neck and nipping at the skin as if to leave a little mark for him to enjoy in the mirror the next day when he was sober and regretting his life choices. He jolted, holding you tight against his lap, his cum soaking through onto your thighs. After a moment, Marc’s breathing returned to normal after a moment, and his chest stopped heaving against yours.

You leaned back, grabbing his hand and pulling his finger from your panties. You brought his hand up to your mouth, popping the arousal slick digit into your mouth, sucking it free of your juices before kissing it and putting it back down at his side. You left him with a kiss on the cheek and a tap on his nose with your index.

“I’ll be back next time, honey, and next time I’m gonna feel that cunt,” he slurred on his way out the door.

“I’ll look forward to it,” you smirked, knowing full well that you’d have the same song and dance next time, and every time after that.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#marc spector #marc spector fiction #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #moon knight #moon knight drabble #marc spector drabble #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fan fiction #marc spector fanfic #marc spector x reader insert #reader insert #moon knight reader insert

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sambuckylibrary · 2 months

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TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024

The @sambuckylibrary will be holding a The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Anniversary Event! The event will start on March 18th and run until April 28th. During that time, we will be reblogging and sharing the work you guys create here on our blog.

This event is not just for the creators, but for the commenters. You can post fanfiction, art, moodboards, edits, podfics, fic list recs, comments, etc. It’ll be a low-stakes event. No need to sign up. Just remember to tag @sambuckylibary in your post for each fill, and we will be tracking #tfatwsanniversary2024 for reblogs.

If you are posting on AO3, please add it toTFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Collection.

Each week will have a different theme with prompts from Monday to Friday. Each prompt will also come with a badge you may use for it when you post. The weekly themes and their prompts will be:

For the text version of the information above as well as the FAQ and rules, check the information under “keep reading”.

WEEK 1 (March 18 - 24): THE WINTER SOLDIER TO PRE-INFINITY WAR

MONDAY: “I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”

TUESDAY: Sam Searches for Bucky

WEDNESDAY: “Can you move your seat up?”

THURSDAY: Team Up at the Airport

FRIDAY: On the Run

WEEK 2 (March 25 - 31) : INFINITY WAR TO PRE-TFATWS

MONDAY: Laying Low

TUESDAY: Reunite in Wakanda

WEDNESDAY: Soul Stone

THURSDAY: Victory Party

FRIDAY: 6 Months of Ghosting

WEEK 3 (April 1 - 7): The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

MONDAY: Couple's Therapy

TUESDAY: “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical.”

WEDNESDAY: Madripoor

THURSDAY: “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

FRIDAY: The Cookout

WEEK 4 (April 8 - 14): Post-TFATWS

MONDAY: Meanwhile, on the Boat...

TUESDAY: Divorce Arc

WEDNESDAY: Skrulls

THURSDAY: Better Thunderbolts Ideas

FRIDAY: Better Captain America 4 Ideas

WEEK 5 (April 15 - 21): AU Week

MONDAY: No Powers AU

TUESDAY: Period Piece

WEDNESDAY: Sci-fi/Fantasy AU

THURSDAY: Based on a Movie

FRIDAY: Ghost/Zombie AU

WEEK 6 (April 22 - 28): Sambucky Week

MONDAY: Didn’t Know They were Dating/Friends with Benefits

TUESDAY: Redwing

WEDNESDAY: Hurt/Comfort

THURSDAY: Separate, Long Vacations

FRIDAY: Dealer's Choice

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a SamBucky event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all five prompts that week at once with one piece of art or fic. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Is it just SamBucky?

Yes please, just SamBucky. There can be side ships, but the main ship should be SamBucky.

How long will this event run?

It will run from March 18th and run until April 28th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There are! You can find the badges here.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the bingo?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to @sambuckylibrary in the post as well as #tfatwsanniversary2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 (TFATWS_Anniversary_Event_2024).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least five fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to your TFATWS Anniversary fics!

- The Mods

#tfatwsanniversary2024 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #sambucky fan event #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fan art #sambucky edit #sambucky moodboard #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier fan event #tfatws fan event #mod: thatmexisaurusrex

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 7 months

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Love and Lying Pt. 1

This will fill the "How bad is it?" space on my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be bolded.

Summary: Will Y/N and Jensen love each other or live in lies?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Angst - reader. Smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Jensen being kind of an asshole. Also being a hero, and a rockstar, and the sexiest mofo ever.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word Count: 6,230

A/N: So, this is kind of a joint request from the lovely @candy-coated-misery0731, and @envyaurora95. They saw this picture of Jensen...

(x)

...and after chatting about it, decided to very kindly ask if I could write something smutty for it. So, I have. 😊

This was supposed to be a one shot, but it will be a short two part series instead. Sorry! It got away from me, and ended up with much more plot than I was originally planning on. 😄 I'm hoping to have Part 2 up on the 23rd. The second part will also cover a square in the jacklesverse bingo - "Rumors". Hope this first part, at least, was what you were hoping for, my lovlies!

Also, the Radio Company song "Ain't No Telling" features in the story, and if you haven't listened to it, click here to do so. Definitely worth it!

A/N 2: As always, of course this is a Jensen from another part of the Multiverse, who is single. This is an absolute work of fiction.

The beautiful dividers, both below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

January

“Hey baby! I’m sorry, I know I said seven, but…” Y/N heard Jensen’s voice booming from the living room in the five star hotel suite they were staying in for the week.

He walked into the bedroom with his phone in his hand. He was looking down at the screen and frowning; his voice was distracted.

“I was gonna text you, and then I was - “ He looked up from his phone to see Y/N sitting on the end of the bed. His smile started and then stopped as his eyes snagged on the two packed suitcases at her feet.

The room was suddenly silent, the noisy, ceaseless traffic sounds muted by their distance from the street thirty stories below them. Jensen closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He gave a brief nod to the suitcases.

“You’re packed and leaving.” He said, stating the obvious.

Y/N folded her hands in her lap, trying desperately to keep them from shaking. But her voice wavered as she responded. “Yes. Look, I think…I think it’s time we admit this isn’t working.”

Jensen’s face registered surprise. “Oh.” He said quietly. “Oh, you’re…you’re LEAVING - leaving. Like, for good, forever.”

Y/N felt his soft words pierce her heart. “I think…” she tried to get the words out past the lump in her throat. “I mean, you can’t tell me you think what we’re doing here is…you have to admit that this isn’t working.”

Jensen shook his head, the surprise fading from his face. In its place came the stubborn set of his chin, and the mask of nonchalance he wore when he was avoiding something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do that.” Y/N said, frustration seeping in. “Don’t act like I’m crazy, like I’m making things up.”

Jensen folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can’t just pretend like I get it.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, frustrated at having to "explain" what they both knew. "I’ve hit a wall with you, Jensen, that I simply can’t get past. Can’t go over it, can’t go around it or through it. Ever since we’ve been together…this whole last year - ever since we decided to take our friendship to the next level, you’ve been keeping me at arms length. You don’t discuss things with me, not your worries or your wants. We don’t make decisions together, you won’t bring me into your life. We were so much closer when we were friends.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I think maybe we should go back to that.” She felt her stomach lurch as she made the suggestion. “Go back to being friends, I mean. I think you were happier that way.”

Jensen scoffed “Oh, was I?”

Y/N shrugged. “Weren’t you? You seemed to be. You talked to me about stuff then, seemed to value my opinion. Now, you just keep everything bottled up inside you. You don’t tell me anything, don’t share anything with me.”

Y/N stood up and walked to where Jensen was standing, anger radiating off of him. She laid her hand on his forearm. “Jensen.” She said softly, looking up into his face. He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Jensen, I love you.”

His jaw clenched and ticked, and she felt the muscles under her hand tense. She waited a moment and although she’d known she wouldn’t hear the words back - even though that had been her point in telling him one more time - the silence that greeted her still lit a burning ache in her chest.

She stepped back, but Jensen shot his hand out to grab her wrist and keep her close. His voice was angry and exasperated. “Y/N look, do you want me to lie? Do you want me to just say the words and not have them mean anything?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “No.” She whispered. “Of course I don’t. I want them to mean everything to you. I want you to feel the truth of them in your soul.” She shrugged and pulled her wrist out of his grasp, pretending her heart wasn’t splintering. “But that’s sort of the point - you don’t feel them, don’t mean them.”

She breathed deeply through her nose. “And that’s why I have to go. I love you but…”

“No, that’s the fucking point, Y/N.” Jensen raged as she bent to pick up her baggage. “You love me, ‘but’. That’s the whole problem. You’ll only love me on your terms, on your timetable. You love me, but you’re just gonna walk away because I won’t play along the way you want me to.”

Jensen was breathing hard, shouting now. “You can’t just force me into whoever you want me to be, can’t just mold me and -”

“Jensen.” Y/N cut him off with a soft, gentle voice. She stood with her bags in hand and shook her head at him, sadness overwhelming her. “Jensen, I’m not her. I’m not trying to mold you into something you’re not. I’m not trying to change you - don’t wanna change you. But…”

Y/N took in another long, wavering breath and finished her earlier thought. “I love you, but I won’t be in love alone.” She shrugged. “It’s too lonely.”

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away from her, and his eyes burned holes into her, the bright green was beautiful, but as hard as jade. “Just go then. Don’t bother with the platitudes. Dunno why you even bothered to stick around for good-bye.”

He spun on his heel and slammed out of the suite. Y/N couldn’t help dropping her bags to the ground and sinking back down onto the foot of the bed. Her stomach plummeted in disappointment once again, and as tears fell steadily down her cheeks, she was able to finally admit to herself that she’d been desperately hoping that he’d tell her to stay. It was probably stupid, but she’d hoped the threat of losing her for good would make him open up and let her in.

But it hadn’t. He wanted her gone. He’d much rather lose her than love her. For a wild moment she contemplated staying, trying to love enough for the both of them. But she knew that was impossible. She contemplated spending another year like the last, always doubting, feeling like she was so close to reaching him, just to have him pull away - just to watch him fall back into his charming ways, all smiles and quick jokes, and no real connection.

It was impossible, and it would only make it that much harder to leave later. So, she picked up her bags and said another silent goodbye to the man who’d hold her heart forever.

“Be happy.” She whispered to the ghosts she left behind.

April

The bar was crowded and noisy; twenty years ago it would have been smoky too. The people inside were slightly rowdy, and ready for a good show.

Y/N felt slightly overdressed in her little black dress. A few women wore something similar, but most women were just in short skirts and tube tops. The vast majority of guys were in t-shirts and jeans.

She sighed. Yep, overdressed.

She perked up slightly as she approached the table her friends were sitting at and saw Briana stand up to hug her, with Kim close behind. Kim wore a fancy top and sleek, shiny pants, and Briana’s dress was tight and black as well. They both looked gorgeous and Y/N was glad that at least she fit in a bit more with her own group.

They were all here to watch Louden Swain perform their set, and Y/N was very excited. She loved the band so much; they were all such sweethearts, and she always had so much fun hanging out with the group. It had been too long.

As she gave both Kim and Briana a hug she was smiling wide, a smile that died quickly as she glanced towards the door and saw Jensen striding towards them.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispered.

Briana looked over her shoulder and then turned back to stare worriedly at Y/N. “He’s…I mean, he’s probably just here to support the band, you know.”

As Briana finished talking, Jensen walked up to where Rob was standing beside the stage and pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. The two spoke close together, straining to hear each other over the music blaring from the loudspeakers. Finally Jensen pounded his friend on the back and turned towards the table Rob pointed at, where all his other friends were sitting.

He froze as he saw Y/N watching him over Briana’s shoulder. There was a very long pause where no one moved or said anything. It was finally Briana who broke it. She pushed Y/N towards Kim who scooted her over to the other end of the long table they sat at, while Briana walked briskly up to Jensen.

She gave him a warm hug and said something into his ear. Y/N figured she was probably telling him the same thing she told her. They were here to support the band, and that was all. The table was big, and the bar was incredibly noisy.

There would be no need for them to interact.

But Y/N’s night was effectively ruined. She smiled at everyone and bopped along with the band as they performed. But her mind simply wasn’t there, it was ten feet down the table where Jensen sat between Rich and a blonde woman she didn’t recognize.

Y/N tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but notice that the woman was beautiful…and that she kept touching Jensen. She laughed uproariously at everything he said, and she just kept putting her hands on him - touching his bicep to get his attention, or putting both her hands on his while she was laughing, her head bent towards his.

Jensen seemed to be enjoying the company. He was talking with her and smiling, and he did nothing to discourage the touching.

As the band finished one song and were switching around some guitars for the next, Y/N leaned over to Briana.

“Who’s the woman beside…Jason?” She asked, swapping out Jensen’s name with Jason’s at the last minute. But Briana saw through that anyway and gave her a sympathetic look.

“I think her name is Tara. From what I know, she’s an old friend of Jason’s. But I’m not sure how they know each other. He’s brought her to a couple get togethers.” Briana shrugged. “She seems nice enough.”

Y/N nodded. “Oh. Cool.” She said quietly just as the band struck up the next song. She hadn’t thought her evening could get worse, and yet it had. And the worst was yet to come.

At the end of the song, Rob held a hand out towards their table. “I wanna give a big thanks to my cheering section over here.” The band clapped and the rest of the bar joined in.

Rob’s smile was huge as he pointed a finger at Jensen. “Now, I need a little more help, onstage this time, and if we all cheer really loudly, we may just guilt my good friend, Mr. Jensen Ackles into joining us on stage!”

Rob finished with a yell as the bar exploded into cheers. Jensen was waving his hands and shaking his head, but the people around him were pushing him, quite literally to get up on the stage. Tara was pushing the hardest, shoving on his broad shoulder and then clapping excitedly when he got up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist in knots. This was too much.

Finally Jensen was cajoled, and physically forced onto the stage. He was smiling, but Y/N could tell he was nervous by the way he rubbed his hands together and then shoved them in his pockets. He bent slightly as Rob reached up to yell in his ear. Jensen seemed to think something over and then shrugged and nodded.

Rob walked back to the microphone and lifted his hand and everyone quieted down to hear him. “Okay, so we always drag Jensen onstage to sing a song the band knows well, but we’ve all been practicing, and we really wanna do a Radio Company song with Jensen this time.”

Everyone clapped and cheered some more as Rob called out. “I’ll do my best to impersonate Steve.” He said with a laugh. “Okay, one of the songs we know well, and is primarily Jensen singing, is the song, ‘Ain’t No Telling’. And the man himself has agreed to sing it for us!”

There was more applauding as Jensen moved into position behind the lead microphone, and Rob moved into position a bit behind him, adjusting the mic stand there so that he could sing harmony. Mike started playing the soft piano that began the ballad, and the bar quieted down, ready to listen to Jensen’s angelic voice.

Y/N, however, was panicking slightly, sure she'd never be able to take this. But I can't possibly get up and run out of here now. She thought desperately. It would be so obvious and make me look pathetic and weak.

So she tried to brace herself, but still felt chills run down her spine as Jensen’s slightly raspy vocals filled the room.

Oh, the fact is Cold but true love Ain't no tellin' Who I am One day sweetness Next day laughter Followed by the anger Coming up from within Who are you holding onto now? Who are you holding onto now? When you need it And you know that I'm a little far away Ain't no tellin' no Where the hell I am Just believe in Every time When we feel it again Tell me, who are you holding onto now? Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Though Jensen didn’t look her direction during the entire song, she still felt like he was singing every line straight to her.

He was so achingly beautiful, and so painfully, effortlessly sexy, it made Y/N's body thrum with want.

His hair had grown a bit longer in the four months since she'd seen him last, and it suited him very well. The honey and cinnamon colored waves fell forward over his forehead as he looked down at the stage, throwing shadows across his face. His eyes were closed, but even from ten feet away she could see the way his eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. His soft, silky looking beard did a beautiful job of perfectly framing his luscious mouth. Y/N tried not to moan aloud as she remembered the perfect slide of those lips across her skin.

Everything about him - his voice, his eyes, his lips, his hands - even his rolled up sleeves that showed off his muscular, freckled forearms - it all made her ache terribly.

The song's lyrics made Y/N’s heart race fast, and crack into a million pieces at the same time. She looked towards Tara, who was staring raptly and adoringly at Jensen, and swallowed harshly, throwing the song's question back at him.

Who are you holding onto now?

As the song slowed to its conclusion and the bar went crazy, shouting and cheering, Y/N put a hand on Briana’s forearm and shot her a quick smile. “Be right back.” She said, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the bar. She hated Briana’s look of pity and understanding. Y/N wanted to be nonchalant and cool about everything, but the wounds of Jensen’s absence were too fresh.

She stayed in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes just willing herself not to cry. She couldn’t go back out there with puffy eyes, on top of everything else.

When she felt slightly less prone to bursting into tears, she washed her hands, took a deep breath, and faked a smile.

The men and women’s washrooms were both down a long hallway, with the women’s at the very end. Just as she walked out, there was a guy walking out of the men’s room and wiping his hands on his jeans. He was medium height, with brown hair that was slicked back, and watery blue eyes that were slightly bloodshot. He wore jeans and a dark blue work shirt with a patch embroidered on the chest that said his name was “Bert.”

He noticed Y/N and he smiled a greasy smile, the kind of smile guys wore when they hit on her, and were sure they were irresistible. Y/N gave a wan kind of smile in return, and tried to walk past him, but he moved to block the narrow hallway.

“What’s your rush, cutie? Stay and chat awhile.” He said with another too-toothy smile.

Y/N’s smile faded and she shook her head at him. “Sorry. Not a big fan of chatting outside a bathroom.” She moved to the side again to show she wanted to walk around him, but he didn’t budge, and if she wanted to get past, she’d have to get physical - something she was desperately hoping to avoid.

But Bert didn’t seem to like her smart alec answer, and his eyes got colder by a degree. “Well, we don’t have to stay here, beautiful. Let me buy you a drink, and then,” he stepped closer to her and she gagged slightly at the cloud of body spray that surrounded him, “then let me take you back to my place, and show you the best night you ever had.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what direction to take - play along so maybe he’d move, and she could take off when they were out of the hallway, or just tell him to go fuck himself. If she played along she ran the risk of making him really pissed when she took off after, but she also ran the risk of pissing him off immediately if she just told him to get lost.

Rather spontaneously, she simply decided she had no patience left in her for this asshole.

“Absolutely not.” She told him firmly. “I have no interest in your offer. Now, please get out of my way and let me out of this hallway.”

As though she hadn’t even spoken, he moved closer, pushing her back a step. “You’re gonna love it baby, I promise.”

Y/N felt her stomach clench in fear and was just getting ready to stomp on his toes, or knee him in the nuts, or both, when she heard a familiar voice speak from behind Bert.

“Stop crowding the lady, asshole, and let her pass.”

Y/N felt relief flow through her as she looked down the hallway and saw Jensen standing just inside the entrance.

Bert looked over his shoulder and lifted his chin in a dismissive gesture towards Jensen. “Nobody’s talkin’ to you, jackass. Just keep movin’.”

Jensen shook his head even though Bert was back to ogling Y/N, and wasn’t looking. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m only gonna warn you once.” He walked down the hall towards them. “Give it up, walk away, and your nose can stay unbroken.” Jensen issued the warning in a conversational tone.

Finally Bert turned around to face him properly. Jensen’s size seemed to make him hesitate for a moment. Jensen had a good three or four inches on him, as well as about thirty pounds of muscle. But Bert's bravado and ego got the better of him.

“Bring it on, fucker, I’ve dealt with guys like you before. Think you’re Mr. Hotshot, but your nothin’ special. I could take you in my sleep.”

Jensen stared at him, two dimples showing up just above his top lip as he scowled, annoyance etched into his features as though Bert was a particularly bothersome fly he couldn’t swat. He shook his head and reached past him, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Y/N reached for him instantly, but Bert made the very huge mistake of slapping her hand away from Jensen’s. Y/N gasped, more from shock than pain, but she was looking at Jensen and saw his expression turn from annoyed to enraged. In the blink of an eye, his right fist came up to slam into Bert's face; a sickening crack sounded as his nose shattered and he fell to the floor.

Jensen reached over Bert’s prone figure and offered his hand to Y/N once again. She took it and he helped her step over the loudly moaning man. They walked away and were just barely out of the hallway, when they heard Bert rising up and bellowing in fury. They turned around in time to see Bert whipping down the hallway towards where they were now standing in the back part of the bar.

Jensen had just enough time to push Y/N out of the way before Bert was tackling him into an empty table and chairs. The two men crashed through it, splintering the wood and falling into the debris. Bert got in one good punch before Jensen rolled him over and began pummeling his face and body. Half a dozen punches later, the bouncers showed up to pull them apart.

There was a lot of confusion and yelling, and Y/N just stood with her hands over her mouth, stunned speechless. Soon, all their friends were in the back with them trying to make sense of what had happened. Thankfully, they sorted it out pretty quickly. One of the bartenders had seen Bert tackle Jensen, so the smaller man was just tossed out of the bar with a warning not to come back, or police would be involved.

Eventually their friends began to filter back to the table, and the staff back to their jobs. But Tara stayed, cooing over Jensen’s purpling cheek and split bottom lip, coaxing him to come back to her hotel room so she could fix him up.

Y/N felt her stomach turn and her exhausted brain decided that she’d taken all she possibly could for one evening. She smiled at Jensen as he stood beside Tara while she ran her hands over his knuckles and tutted at their scrapes.

“Thank you.” She said simply. Her extreme gratitude for his rescue couldn’t really be summed up with two simple words, but that was all she could get out without bursting into tears.

“Course.” Jensen said stiffly. He looked like he had more to say, but Y/N just smiled again and ducked past them quickly, admitting to herself that she was definitely running away.

***

Hours later, Y/N was sitting slumped on her couch, still dressed in her little black dress, heels kicked off under her coffee table, and an almost empty glass of wine in her hand. It was her second one, and she was just beginning to feel the pleasant fuzziness at the edges of her consciousness, when she heard a sharp knock at her door.

Looking at her phone, she saw it was past one in the morning, and no one had texted her to say they were coming over. She sat up, but didn't move to the door until the knock came again.

She snuck up to the door quietly and peered out of the peephole. She let out a fairly loud squeal of surprise when she saw Jensen on the other side. She saw him look up at the door and knew he'd heard her. With no other choice if she wanted to try and maintain her “just fine” facade when it came to him, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

There was a full ten seconds of awkward silence as they stood just staring at each other. It may have only been seconds but it felt endless. Finally Y/N broke it.

“Hey.”

Jensen nodded and gave a fleeting smile. “Hey.”

Another awkward silence.

Then Jensen shook his head. “Sorry, I just…uh…you left pretty fast, and…and I just wanted to make sure you were good. You know, from the…just with everything.”

Y/N smiled back, her smile equally brief and unnatural. “Yeah, oh yeah.” She waved dismissively. “Yeah, he was mostly just a douche, you know.”

Jensen nodded, and a beat passed before Y/N frowned and asked, “How about you?” She pointed at his split lip and bruised cheek. “How bad is it?”

He lightly brushed his forefinger against his lip, rubbing the cut there, and then shrugged. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Guy punched like a…well, like a douchebag, I guess.” He smiled again and it was slightly closer to his real smile.

Y/N nodded and was desperately trying to figure out her next move when Jensen pointed around her into her apartment. “Uh, do you mind…can I…?”

Y/N panicked slightly at the idea of letting Jensen in, but she moved back and ushered him inside “Yeah, sure.” He closed the door behind him, and now they stood awkwardly inside her apartment instead of outside. Desperate to break the torturous silence, Y/N pointed toward her kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink, or something?”

But Jensen just shook his head. “N’ah, I’m good.”

So Y/N’s escape plan into the kitchen was thwarted. After a moment Jensen waved his hand around to indicate her apartment. “This is…new…nice.”

Y/N nodded, starting to feel like a bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I like it.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jensen looked slightly guilty. “I bugged Briana til she told me.”

“Ah.” Y/N said. “That would do it.”

A spasm of a smile crossed Jensen’s face and then he opened his mouth and started to say something, but then quickly closed it. He looked a little wildly around the room as though he might find the words he sought, written on the walls.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and spun around towards the door. “K, well, I’m glad you’re good.” He said with another careless smile thrown back over his shoulder. “See ya.”

And just like that, he was gone again.

Y/N stood in the middle of her living room, completely at sea. “What the hell was that?” She whispered out loud to herself.

She stood in the same spot for almost five minutes trying to puzzle it out, before another sharp, loud knock came to the door. Without looking through the peephole this time, she just pulled the door open and wasn’t the least surprised this time to see Jensen standing on the other side.

Bewildered, yes. Surprised, no.

“Jensen,” she said with a confused shake of her head, “what on earth ar-”

She gasped as he cut her off by grabbing the back of her head in his big hand and pulling her into his embrace. His mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss desperate and slightly brutal. Y/N moaned deeply as he thrust his tongue past her lips to ravage her mouth, moving his two hands so that they gripped her cheeks and held her in place as he pillaged her tongue, sucking it into his mouth, and licking deeply into hers.

He shifted his lips on hers, and Y/N took the moment to try and come to her senses. She pushed at his forearms and wrenched her head away from him.

“What…” Her voice was completely breathless and high-pitched. She tried to lower it. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tried to step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her upper arms and held her there. “Please, Y/N, I just…fuck I miss you.”

Y/N shivered at the dark desire in his mossy green eyes and deep, rough voice, but she shook her head. “Jensen…we can’t just…” She floundered for words, trying desperately to remain sensible. This was madness!

“I know.” Jensen said, dropping his forehead to hers. “I know, and I know I’m an asshole for coming here, but…”

Y/N could see, close up, his jaw clenching and the muscle twitching there, and it made her lower belly clench.

“But,” Jensen continued, “when I saw you there tonight, in this sexy little black dress…jesus fuck.” He moved his hands from her arms to grip her waist, bunching up the soft, clingy material of her dress in his big fists. “All I wanted to do was rip it off you.”

Y/N was breathing heavily, as though she’d run a mile. A whine entered her voice, as she tried to plead with herself more than him. “We can’t do this…it’s not…” His lips just grazed hers, and his soft, minty breath drifted across them.

“Tell me to go.” He whispered roughly. “Say the word - I’ll go.”

They stayed frozen together like that for quite a few rapid heartbeats before Y/N finally shook her head, conceding defeat, and acknowledging she never had any hope of victory.

“No. Don’t.” She bit her lip and then looked deeply into his eyes for the first time in a long time. “Don’t go.”

Jensen slammed the door shut with his foot, and only then did Y/N realize it was still open. Jensen had been her only focus since he’d charged through it. He grabbed her head in his hands again and kissed her deeply, still rough and desperate. He walked her backwards until they hit her bookshelves, knocking down a few paperbacks.

Jensen pulled away from her mouth only to dip his head beneath her jaw. He nibbled at the extremely soft skin there, before running his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder, pulling the straps of her dress out of his way so he could bare her shoulder and suck bruises and leave teeth marks across her skin.

Y/N desperately shoved his black button up off of his shoulders and yanked his t-shirt over his head. Her hands were trembling, and it felt as though her entire body was shaking in anticipation. When she finally got her hands on his bare skin, she rubbed them down over his ribcage, and then up under his arms and around to his back. She dug her nails into the taut muscles there and Jensen growled out a moan.

Suddenly he pulled back from her and spun her around. She grabbed hold of the shelves in front of her as she felt Jensen’s hands grip the top of her dress. Without even attempting the zipper, he ripped it apart with a grunt, tearing the dress in half.

Y/N wanted to protest him ruining her dress, but she lost all coherent thought as he reached over her shoulder and shoved his hand down the front of her dress. His nimble fingers freed the front clasp of her bra quickly, and he wrapped his massive hand around her breast, squeezing her almost too hard. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the puckered bud began to ache for more.

His mouth didn’t leave her body as he pressed her against the shelves. He trailed his lips down her neck and then down her back, pushing the two sides of her dress off of her completely. He pulled her bra off too, and tossed it aside. Left in only her black, silky thong, she heard Jensen moan deeply and then felt him step back from her slightly.

When she looked over her shoulder, she felt her slick begin to drip down her thighs at the look of ravenous need on Jensen’s face. She could see the way he bulged out his black jeans and she couldn’t restrain a whimper.

She turned towards him and then fell to her knees. She reached for his zipper, but Jensen grabbed her hands.

“No baby, I can’t. You touch me right now and I’m gonna explode.” He pulled her back to standing and then grabbed the backs of her thighs, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. “And I need to fuck you, need to sink so deep into you.”

He spoke deliciously into her ear as he carried her down her only hallway towards what he must have correctly assumed was her bedroom. He kissed her as he carried her to the bed. Then he leaned down to place her gently on the mattress. She let go of him long enough for him to shuck his jeans and underwear, her mouth watering at the delicious sight of his leaking, red-tipped cock.

Fuck he was beautiful.

He crawled onto the bed and then between her legs. She tried to wrap her legs around him again, but he easily pushed them open. He stared down at her pussy and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Missed this pretty little pussy so much.” Jensen said as he laid his palm over her mound, fingers pointing towards her belly button, and then dipped his wide thumb into her folds to find her clit. The rough pad of his thumb circled it and soon had Y/N writhing, her hips bucking. Then he twisted his hand so that his thumb kept swirling around the hard little nub, but now his fingers could slide through her slick and then thrust deep and hard into her quivering body.

Y/N screamed as he pressed against her g-spot making her come instantly. Her body shook as he continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers before sinking onto his stomach and letting his tongue take over. He flicked it back and forth against her and made her nearly convulse with pleasure. She came again, on his tongue, gripping his long hair, and using it to keep his mouth pressed against her.

But he had no intention of moving any time soon, and kept her coming over and over. “Missed those sounds.” He said as Y/N shuddered and groaned and whimpered. “Say my name, darlin', I missed that too.”

Y/N grunted and then groaned as he slammed his three fingers into her particularly deep. “Fuck Jensen, oh fuck! Yes!”

He smiled against her dripping pussy and pressed his fingers against her g-spot again, ripping another blistering orgasm out of her. “Perfect.” He praised.

Her throat was raw from crying out her pleasure before Jensen finally moved up her body to lay over top of her. He pushed her messy hair away from her forehead and kissed her, featherlight, across her cheeks. He smiled softly at her now, as she looked up at him, her expression thoroughly blissed out and her eyes hazy.

“Missed your face like this. So beautiful, so completely open.” After a moment of watching Jensen watch her, Y/N’s mind cleared enough to register that his brow was crinkled in what looked like worry or fear. But before she could wonder about it for too long, he leaned down to press his lips ever so gently against hers.

As he kissed her, he easily slid his thick cock into her body. She clenched around him and he buried his face in her neck as he spoke, muffled, against her skin.

“And ungh, fuck! I missed this feeling. So tight and warm, so…so fucking perfect. Like…” He pulled out and slid back into her, moving incredibly slowly, savoring every inch. “Feels like - ungh!”

He growled as her cunt squeezed around him again, and he lost all ability to speak, becoming wild and a little brutal as he rutted into her, ramming harshly into her tight, wet, heat over and over, until he was lifting her of the bed with every thrust and Y/N was screaming and clawing his back, shoving her heels into his ass, pushing him deeper still. Finally, he exploded with a shout through gritted teeth, and as she climaxed one more time, she felt the familiar, warm feeling of his cum shooting deep inside her and filling her up.

They laid together, panting, for a long time. Everything felt surreal as Y/N began to float back to earth. It felt like she was in a very vivid dream. Eventually, Jensen rolled off of her and she moved onto her side so she could look at him. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and make sense of what had just happened between them, but Jensen put a finger to her lips and shook his head.

“Please, baby,” he said, exhaustion lacing his voice, “tomorrow, okay?”

He opened his arms, inviting Y/N to move into his embrace, and she did. She snuggled against him and pushed the questions out of her mind. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle some answers.

Yeah, tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off.

But when she woke in the morning, Jensen was gone.

No note, no text, no explanation. If it wasn’t for the bruises and bites he’d left on her skin, she might have thought he was just a dream in the night, just a figment of her imagination. But he'd been there, and now he was just gone, taking all of her answers and another slice of her heart along with him.

Part 2

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

#jensen ackles rpf #request fic #jacklesversebingo23 #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles angst

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 3 months

Text

"what makes you think you can..?"

(bingo challenge prompt #2 :D)

pairing: re4!leon kennedy x gn!reader word count: 693 warnings: arguing? does that count idk, angst maybe??, mentions of ashley (my queen), leon throwing disses at you for sure, no kiss kiss :(, unrequited love?, leon's a man of few words yall

takes place during re4 :3

"what makes you think you can just walk away?"

leon's voice is icy, brimming with poison when you turn your back to ashley and him. there's no doubt in your mind that he has his gun aimed and at the ready where you stand at the bottom of the dirt path. "leon, stop-" "ashley, you've been amazing company but i can fight my own battles." you say firmly, slowly turning back to face leon to show you mean no harm towards them. "don't worry, i think you can drop the act by now." he says with a glare, rainwater glistening off of his gun and drenching the three of them. you only hum in response to that, looking over at ashley: it'd really only been a few days since you'd been tagging along with the pair, but the look ashley was giving you was like you'd just kicked her dog.

"what tips you off that i'm with the bad guys, hm? am i too friendly, too giving?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest as leon tightens his grip on his gun. he doesn't respond, just keeps glaring at you with this indiscernible look in his eyes. ah. you muster up as much face as you can, trying not to both relish in and repent the way you can sense his hurt from a mile away; maybe ashley was picking up on it, too, it would make more sense as to why she'd been so willing to bond with you while leon kept you at arms' length. "who will i tell, leon? who could i possibly working for that needs to know if the president's daughter gets home safe or where she is? i don't exactly see the locals welcoming me with hugs and kisses." you say, earning a scoff from leon that makes you swallow thickly. "something tells me this is a need to know basis. but i'm also not gonna end up being the one 6 feet under when i find out who needs to know."

you let out an incredulous laugh at that, shaking your head before smiling coldly up at leon; god, you wanted to smack that stupid gun out of his hands and shake him. "i bet you used to be fun at parties. i really don't know what else i can tell you to let me home free." you say, the three of you unmoving as thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. leon seems to just stare at you (or through you) almost in shock though it's not evident on his face. his features falter for a second, one of those 'blink and you'll miss it' moments and then you see it: under the grime and rage and stress and years he'd never even been a shadow of a thought in your mind, you see him. the boy he'd told you only bits and pieces about that explored a strange city and a strange police station ravaged by destruction and gore. the boy who never had his famed first day. the boy who's job first and foremost was the protection of others.

the moment's gone before you have time to process it, watching leon put his gun away and turn on his heel in the opposite direction; anything you wanted to say was lost to him now. ashley is left to look between the two of you, unable to meet your gaze and her eyes meeting leon's back. "ashley, let's go." "leon-" "on me." ashley's lips part in shock a bit as leon keeps walking, not looking back even once. she looks over at you, worry obvious in her expression. you finally meet her eyes, giving her a smile that says 'what can you do?' and waving her off. she doesn't take her eyes off of you, walking hesitantly before eventually turning away to catch up to leon. you watch the two of them disappear behind a patch of trees, standing in the rain for a bit longer; you tell yourself it's to show him you won't follow them but if he glanced your way for even a second, you'd join them again in a heartbeat.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

I MISSED LEON KENNEDY SO BAD, he was actually going to be my first prompt but this one helped me create that sweet sweet drama

thanks for reading once again! im having such a good time writing for this challenge and being able to do small pieces instead of one big piece. i hope you all are enjoying it too! :3

next prompt:

one finds the other crying

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3

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otpcutie · 2 months

Text

Daddy💞 (AU: All In)

Summary (Stucky, E, 0.2k): Steve and Bucky exchange some cheeky texts while they're apart.

Contains: fake text screenshots, texting fic, D/s, Daddy Steve, brat Bucky, President Steve, journalist Bucky, flirting, fluff, panties, sexting, established relationship (more on AO3)

⭐️Part 3 of The President's Boy⭐️

@buckybarnesevents Bucky’s Birthday Bash: AU Bucky + “Just because something works, doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.” (Panties) + Steve Rogers + Red / @buckybarnesevents Build-A-Bucky Bingo, fill: impact play / @stuckybingo fill: gifts + monthly prompt: luck

Text fic below [AO3]:

Daddy💞

Bucky: You should check your jacket pocket when you’re alone. I may have slipped a little something in there to tide you over ‘til I’m back…😇

Daddy💞: Fuck, honey. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a sweet boy.

Bucky: That’s easy, Daddy. You were yourself❤️

Daddy💞: How is it that you can get me all choked up and horny at the same time? God I can’t wait until you’re home and I get to thank you properly.

Bucky: It’s a gift🥰 What did you have in mind, Sir?

Daddy💞: Nice try.

Daddy💞: You better not touch yourself without permission while your away though, or it’ll involve me turning that gorgeous ass red😘

Bucky: Promise?

Daddy💞: Brat❤️ Daddy is gonna get your pretty panties SO messy.

Bucky: 😳🥺 Will you send pics?

Daddy💞: Of course. It’d be rude to not to let you see how much Daddy enjoys your present😏💝

Bucky: Fuck, I have to board. I’ll see you in a few days Daddy, I love you❤️

Daddy💞: I love you too babyboy😘 Call me when you’re there safe.

(Later that day…)

Daddy💞: As promised.

Daddy💞: [Photo of Bucky’s pink lace panties, absolutely coated and sticky in Steve’s cum]

Bucky: Steve!!

Bucky: Did you jerk off WITH them??

Daddy💞: I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself…

Daddy💞: [Video]

Bucky: **Calling Daddy💞**

♥︎ Also on AO3 ♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

#bucky barnes #stucky #stucky texts #stucky fic #stucky edit #steve x bucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes edit #fake texts #texting AU #social media AU #otpcutie #otpcutie fics #otpcutie edits #BBEbuckybdaybash2024 #series: the president's boy

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ticklishfiend · 25 days

Note

FEEL FREE TO USE THIS PROMPT WITH WHOEVER YOU WANT. WHATEVER YOU WANT. IF YOU WANT TO USE IT. it's horribly evil and i trust you with it:

character a wanting tickles in some way, and character b (who knows about their deal and is totally being evil) picking up on it and character b somehow "forgets" what tickling is and how to do it and needs a little memory boost, convincing character A to explain it to them and tell them exactly what to do in order to get what they want 😌

"where do i put my hands?" / "now what?" / "where else should i try?"

- 🍓

i never finished this and im soooo sorry dude, i fell out of my hyperfixation and the motivation just floated out of my body bruh. anyways, here's the unfinished drabble, i hope u like it anyways!!

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. Crossed his legs, then uncrossed them immediately because it felt wrong. He rubbed his forearms against the couch arms uncomfortably, nails picking at the fabric.

Aziraphale knew why he felt so off. But admitting it feels so improper.

Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on Crowley lounging about on his designated couch spot. Aziraphale waited anxiously for him to notice how off he was acting.

Crowley continued picking at his nails, not even bothering to look up at him. The one time Aziraphale wouldn’t mind a little teasing behavior from Crowley and he’s looking at his hand.

Fine. Fine. He’ll say something, something small to get Crowley jump started. It never takes much to get him going anyways, so Aziraphale will have him in no time.

“Ahem,” Aziraphale fake-coughed, a little obvious but if it works it works. Crowley looked up, brows furrowing at Aziraphale’s tense form, noticing his finger tapping impatiently at the arm.

“You alright?”

Aziraphale gave a small shy smile, not looking Crowley in the eyes. His own nails seemed of more interest all of a sudden. “Just feeling…a bit antsy, is all, dear.”

“Oh,” Crowley squinted his eyes, suspicious and curious. “Any particular reason you’re so jittery? Got ants in your pants, angel?”

“Nothing of the sort.”

They were both quiet for a moment. A staring contest. Well, Crowley stared him down at least. Azirphale actually did everything but stare.

Crowley hummed, going back to his hand.

Are you actually joking.

Aziraphale huffed. Okay fine. Again. Maybe Crowley’s just a bit slow today. Yeah, that’s it. He needs a more obvious push. It’s more embarrassing, sure, but the metaphorical ants in his pants feel like they're crawling around faster now and he’s gonna need some relief soon.

So Aziraphale took a big, long stretch. His arms raised above him, a satisfying groan just to call Crowley’s attention to his very exposed and vulnerable torso. And, of course, this did catch Crowley’s eye.

He chuckled. Bingo.

“Can’t keep still today, can ya?” Crowley sat on the edge of his seat, elbow propped on his knee to rest his chin in his hand. He watched Aziraphale settle back into his chair with a grin. “Anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

Aziraphale felt himself will back a blush. “Oh, well, I…I’m not sure. Anything you’d like, I’m sure I’d appreciate.”

“Mm…” Crowley hummed with a smile, eyes trailing Aziraphale up and down. Aziraphale was having a really hard time looking at him right now, it was very cute. “Seriously, angel, I’m not sure how to help you here. I cooould…make you some tea? Maybe grab some cakes by the coffee shop?” Crowley really couldn’t keep that cheeky grin off his face for a second, could he? “But maybe you can throw some suggestions out since my mind is drawing quite the blank.”

Aziraphale truly couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Was that smile devious or just him offering a nice gesture? Crowley had his sweet moments, if anyone would know it’d be Aziraphale, but was this that?? It didn’t really feel like it, but he didn’t want to flub.

“Maybe we could figure something out easier if I…sat next to you?”

“Brilliant idea,” Crowley sat back against the cushion, patting the spot next to him. “Make yourself comfy.”

Aziraphale threw a tight smile his way as he got up, feeling very peculiar about this whole thing. Usually Crowley jumped right into this, eager to get his hands on him and make Aziraphale cackle. Now Crowley’s acting like he’s never tickled him a day in his life.

Aziraphale hopes his brain is just working slower today than usual. The alternative is something he’s becoming very wary over.

Finally seated, Aziraphale sat up straight as a board. He knew exactly what he was doing, too. If he looks too tense or stiff, Crowley always finds the excuse to tickle him into relaxing. Really, Aziraphale can be quite the schemer when he wants to be.

Crowley just watched him for a moment, taking notice each time Aziraphale nervously glanced his way. Crowley reached and gave Aziraphale a soothing rub up and down his back, not stopping when Aziraphale tried flinching away.

“Wow, you’re tense. Really, I’d love to help, but you are funny about your massages,” Crowley purred, giving Aziraphale a pat on the back before leaning back.

Aziraphale ringed his hands. “Ah, yes well, that’s only sometimes,” he bluffed, trying to find any excuse to get Crowley’s dexterous fingers on him right this second. “I don’t think a massage sounds so bad right now, actually.”

Crowley chuckled, “Really? Usually you get all huffy when I offer you one of my famous massages,” he squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulder, which would’ve felt affirming if not for the teasy tone lacing Crowley’s voice right now. What a devil.

Aziraphale did get huffy at that. “Well that’s because you always…” he waved his hand about in the air as if it would jog Crowley’s memory of all the very tickly massages he’s given Aziraphale in the past. Innocent rubs and firm presses to start, but eventually Crowley always trailed a little too close to Aziraphale’s sides, a little too gently, everything was always a little too much. Admittedly, Aziraphale thought that sounded perfect for his current mood.

But Crowley just quirked his head, like a confused puppy. “What are you on about?” he pressed, before physically adjusting Aziraphale to lay down on the couch, back up. Crowley straddled his waist, “I always what?”

Aziraphale’s face felt like it could burn through the pillow he hid himself in. “You do know. Stop messing about.”

“Angel, if I knew what you were talking about…” Crowley leaned his face close into Aziraphale’s exposed ear, giving a hard press into his shoulder blades. His breath tickled as he whispered, “…don’t you think I’d be doing it right now?”

Oh for heaven's sake. Aziraphale felt he could bust through the seams with how on edge he was at the moment. He felt squirmier, hands pressing into spots in an extremely un-ticklish manner that made him want to whine. This is so unfair. Crowley knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s figured out a way to make Aziraphale squirm more than usual and he is not taking it for granted.

Aziraphale’s not sure whether to be excited and thankful, or hit him over the head with his pillow.

“You’re being cruel,” Aziraphale muttered into his pillow, fingers squeezing the cushion in anticipation. Maybe he’d start when Aziraphale least expected? Maybe Crowley’s getting impatient too? But he couldn’t know any of this for sure, so he had to wait, and isn’t that just the most internally ticklish feeling there was?

“Cruel? I’m giving you a massage, for Satan’s sake. I think if anyone is being cruel it’s you. I know you’ve got something you won’t tell me. I can hear those cogs turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Crowley gave his scalp a quick scratch, chuckling at the flinch that came with it. “Jumpy, are we?”

“Yes, okay? Just get on with it, please. I don’t think I can take much more of this. I’ve gone red, Crowley,” he whined like Crowley had made his body malfunction. He was getting a little desperate now. If his very obvious advances won’t work, asking must do this trick. It had to.

But Crowley hummed again. And Aziraphale knew he wasn’t finished with his little tricks.

“Gonna need you to be a little more specific. I’m a bit lost, you see,” Crowley’s hands trailed to hold Aziraphale’s sides firmly. Bastard.

Aziraphale exhaled deeply into the pillow, close to pulling his hair out. “I would like you to…tickle me. Please.”

There was a hesitant silence, like Crowley was pondering his next move and Aziraphale was waiting with bated breath for it.

Then Crowley spoke. And Azirphale almost wished he hadn’t of.

“What’s tickling, dear?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“Nooo,” Aziraphale groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes, beyond flustered and frustrated.

“What? I’m not allowed to ask questions now?”

“It seems like asking questions is all you’re doing, actually…”

“I can’t do what you want if I don’t even know the definition,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale could hear the grin in his voice. Sometimes Aziraphale forgets he chooses to room with an actual, real-life demon. “You gettin’ the picture?”

“Cruel. Cruel, wily serpent. Hell spawn, you are.”

“Yeah, don’t wear it out, angel,” Crowley’s hands squeezed a very non-ticklish squeeze against Aziraphale’s sides, as if just to remind him of where he was above him. “Let's get you flipped over. Can't rightly tell me about this whole tickling thing if your face is smushed into the cushion.”

“Hhhnn,” Aziraphale groaned through a whiny giggle, adjusting under Crowley to lay on his back. Having his flushed face now on display is not helping whatsoever.

Crowley smiled down at him, and Aziraphale swore he saw a forked tongue peek through his sharp teeth. Evil thing. “Why hello there.”

“Hush.”

“I don’t get a hello back?”

“Not after all this teasing you don’t,” Aziraphale would cross his arms if he could, but a certain someone was blocking him with his knees.

“Teasing? Me? I think you really have lost your marbles, dear. I would do no such thing,” Crowley lied through his teeth, settling on Aziraphale’s waist. His hands drifted back to Aziraphale’s sides, firm all the same. “Now…about this tickling thing?”

“You know what tickling is, Crowley. Stop messing with me,” Aziraphale stood his ground, though he found it hard to look Crowley in the eyes right now. Something about those pointed irises and the yellow surrounding them felt truly piercing at the moment. Sharp enough to cut through Aziraphale’s wavering boldness.

“Really, darling, I haven’t a clue. But I'd love to find out if you’d be so inclined?” Crowley caressed Aziraphale’s sides, seemingly to comfort, but the angel nearly shivered. “Especially since you’re so eager for me to figure it out, hm?”

Aziraphale huffed. He’s been huffy since this whole thing started, but now that he can sense what he really wants is just over the horizon, breathing is becoming something of a manual task. “Is this really what it’s going to take?”

Crowley smiled a wicked smile. “I think you’ll find I’m a very fast learner.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, if only to distract himself from that fluttery feeling in his belly at those words.

Closing his eyes and taking a sigh, Aziraphale was ready to get this over with. “T-tickling is…it’s, well…we created it together many, many years ago. If you touch certain parts of the body, my body, I’ll laugh. Involuntarily. So…” Aziraphale coughed awkwardly. “So there. That’s tickling.”

Crowley snickered. Azirphale shoved at his face playfully, his own face feeling warmed by the second. “You’re terrible, Crowley.”

“Aren’t I just?” Crowley said, taking Aziraphale’s hand and pushing it down against the cushion. “So…parts of your body, huh? Wanna be more specific about that?”

“Goodness gracious, you are insufferable,” Aziraphale chuckled through a whine, twisting the wrist in Crowley’s hand. “My…well, my sides are pretty sensitive.”

“Sensitive…you mean…?”

“Ticklish, yes, ticklish! Crowley I swear if you d—dohohoahaha-! C-Crohohowley!” Azirpahale giggled happily when he felt precise fingers finally digging into his sides.

“I think you deserve a little reward for your knowledge,” Crowley grinned, his pinching endless on Aziraphale’s sides. He basked in those silly giggles, happy his little game is over so he can finally hear his angel sing

#tickle community #tickling #tickle fic #good omens tickling #good omens #lee!aziraphale #ler!crowley #ask #prompt

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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 year

Text

Running on Spite and Fumes by Amber McLain

Written for the Phic Phight Prompt: Wes decides to investigate one of Danny's rogues (from @bookhoard)

AO3 Link

[Warnings from past character death (Ember) and fire]

Wes was just about ready to throw in the towel. No matter how many times he said it, no matter how much evidence he provided, no one was ever going to believe that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same. He'd been trying to show people for almost two years now with nothing at all to show for it. Maybe the time had finally come to give up the ghost and direct his efforts toward something else.

He sat behind and to the left of Danny in physics class. That half-ghost bastard was chugging ectoplasm out of a clear water bottle without a care in the world and nobody but Wes thought there was anything suspicious about that. Not long ago, Wes would have practically thrown a fit over it. Shouted, and pointed, and demanded, "Are none of you seeing this!?" but he didn't today.

Even when Danny turned around to make direct eye-contact with Wes, specifically to antagonize him, he didn't take the bait. "You know what, Fenton?" he said. "You win."

Danny blinked in surprise and put down his water bottle. "What?"

"I said, you win," Wes repeated. "Fuck you, obviously, but I give up. I'm not wasting any more of my time. My reputation has taken enough of a hit already. I'm moving on to newer, better things."

Danny scoffed and leaned on his hand, shooting Wes a mildly amused and thoroughly unconvinced look. "Like what?"

"Like, you know," Wes hadn't really thought about it yet, but he'd be damned if he was about to admit it to Danny. "Ghosts that are actually cool!" he spat. "Like Ember! Phantom is old news. I'm gonna figure out who she is, or—was."

"Right, sure you are," Danny rolled his eyes and turned to face the front of the classroom again, grumbling, "Good luck with that," under his breath.

Wes scowled. He'd just made that up on the spot because he hadn't wanted to admit to Danny, of all people, that he didn't actually have a plan, but now he really was gonna do it. How hard could it be to figure out who a ghost was before they died, anyway?

As it turned out, the answer to that question was 'really fucking hard.' Wes had basically nothing to go on except her song. He ran his personal recording—yes he had a copy of it. Mind control aside, it was a good song!—through every music identification app and program he could find and came up with zip. Either she'd written that song after she died, or she was one of those ghosts that formed in the Ghost Zone and only seemed like a normal ghost, or she was such an obscure indie artist when she was alive that no one... remembered her.... Oh.

That would explain her obsession. Ghosts often became obsessed in death with things they wanted or fantasized about when they were alive, but never got. Finally, Wes had a thread to pull on. He went online, surfing indie music forums, the more obscure the better. He posted the same message in tons of different places.

Does anyone recognize this artist? Her name is Ember McLain, but I can't can't find anything about her anywhere! <remember_ember.mp3>

Usually it was buried right away. No one recognized the song, or no one cared. Several times he got made fun of for having to ask who an artist was, even though no one else on the forums knew her either. It was a few days before he got an actual worthwhile response, but he did get one, which broke the case wide open.

Could you mean *Amber* McLain? The music sounds similar to hers, but I guess she's pronouncing her name weird to make the rhyme work.

She's from my hometown, and I saw her perform a couple small gigs at local clubs and stuff, but don't expect her to drop any new singles any time soon. She died like eight years ago.

Bingo. That was definitely something Wes could work with.

It might be. What town? Do you happen to have any more of her music?

The response came several minutes later.

Milton, Washington. And it took me a while to find the songs, but yeah. She only had the one album, 5 songs on it, and she wasn't bad, so I bought it at one of her shows. <running_on_spite_and_fumes.mp3> <homegrown_arson.mp3> <the_curse_of_adolescence.mp3> <feather_heavy.mp3> <daddy_never_loved_you.mp3>

Wes started downloading the files before he responded.

How'd she die?

This time the answer came right away.

Mid-show, the venue caught fire.

One of the amps blew and everything went up in flames. The back door was blocked, I guess, and she was trapped on stage, never made it out. Like six or seven people died in that fire, it was a big deal for a while.

Burned to death in a concert venue, huh? Wes considered Ember, her flaming hair, the way she was dressed, the spectral guitar she could summon and dismiss at will. That would totally make sense.

Once the music downloaded, he listened to the first song. The lyrics weren't nearly as self-absorbed as "Remember Ember", but the sound was the same. It was distinctly her music, her voice, her playing guitar. It was her sound, from before she'd died. Wes could hear her inhaling at the end of a lyric, could hear her voice catch the way a ghost's voice couldn't.

This is her! Thanks so much for helping me find her! Sucks to hear she died, but at least I could hear a little more of her music.

This had been the breakthrough Wes needed.

Yeah, no problem man! Thanks for reminding me about her. The new song is a bop!

Grinning triumphantly, he printed out that forum exchange for his evidence folder. He knew who she was now. All he had to do was find some more evidence of her life. It wouldn't be all that easy to do when all of that evidence was in a small town in Washington state she'd never made it out of, but Wes was never one to shy away from a challenge.

Ember would probably be happy to hear that she did have at least one fan when she was alive. Not to mention, Wes would make an absolute killing burning CDs with all of Ember's songs from before she died and selling them at school. He finished downloading the files and burned one CD for his folder right away.

The next order of business would be scouring newspapers for articles about her. No matter how obscure the musician was, dying in the middle of a performance when the venue burned down was all but guaranteed to make the news, at least regionally. It took weeks to find even a single article, but eventually he tracked one down.

Six die in tragic bar fire in Milton.

The article contained details about the fire, the bar, the cause, and the victims, including photos of them. One of them, the performing musician, Amber McLain was the spitting image of Ember, stage makeup and all, even the guitar she was pictured with was exactly the same as Ember's.

He'd found her.

He'd really, truly found her.

Wes printed out the article. After a little more digging on the bar that had burned down, he also found a scan of a promotional poster for Ember's show that night, and he printed that out too. He slipped those, along with the CD he'd burned, and the printed out forum exchange, into a folder to bring to school.

"Guess what, Fenton, you asshole? I fucking did it!" Wes hollered when Danny walked into physics class.

"Did what?" Danny asked with a scoff. "If this is about proving I'm Phantom, I thought you said you gave that up."

"We both know you're Phantom, and I did give up proving it, but this isn't about that." Wes slapped the folder down on top of Danny's desk and dug his portable CD player out of his backpack. "Read it and weep, fucker. Not only did I figure out who Ember was before she died, I also got my hands on all five tracks of the only album she released while she was still alive." He put the CD into the player and turned it on.

The opening riff of "Running on Spite and Fumes" started playing from the portable player's single, shitty speaker, but the moment she started to sing, Ember's voice, or rather, Amber's voice was unmistakable.

"Holy shit, you actually did it," Danny said under his breath, looking down at the contents of the folder, his expression a mix of awe and horror.

"Is that a new Ember song?" asked Star from the front row.

"Actually, it's an old Ember song," Wes responded smugly. "I tracked down her real identity and got my hands on everything she released before she died. I'm gonna burn more copies later and sell 'em around school."

"Wes, can I talk to you?" Danny said. Snapping the folder closed, he grabbed the basketball player by the shirt and dragged him out of the classroom by force. "You can't do this."

"What? What do you mean?" Wes demanded, shoving Danny's hands off him.

"If Ember finds out you learned who she was in life and exposed her, she'll kill you," he said, waving the folder emphatically in front of him. "Bringing up a ghost's life or death is one of the biggest taboos in ghost culture. She won't just haunt you, she'll straight up murder you. Until you die."

"Oh, please." Wes crossed his arms. In all the time he'd spent trying to expose Danny as Phantom, Wes had studied up on ghosts and ghost culture quite intensely. He hardly considered himself an expert, but quite frankly, his knowledge was on par with some of the leaders in the field of ectology. "Her popularity will skyrocket once her old songs start circulating. Personal obsession trumps cultural taboo every time, we both know that."

"Not during the Truce," Danny refuted.

"Well, yes, obviously the Truce is an exception; it's the Truce," Wes said. "And I'm not so insensitive that I'm gonna tell everyone in school how she died, I just wanted to rub it in specifically your face that I figured it out, seeing as how you doubted me a few weeks ago." Danny narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Wes.

"You'd better not tell everyone," he said, but he took a step back. "And if you do, you don't get to implicate me in any of this, got it? I won't have her after me again now that we're not at each other's throats anymore." He shoved the folder to Wes' chest.

"Yeah, whatever." With that the two of them went back into the classroom, where pretty much everyone was listening intently to the tinny music still playing. Wes discreetly slipped his evidence folder into his backpack before anyone else could ask about it, and wrote down the names of people who came by his desk to tell him they wanted to buy a CD once he had them.

The next day, Wes started selling copies of the CD for ten bucks a pop. Within a week, he had enough money to buy himself a brand new camera to replace the one Danny had destroyed a few months back. He turned out to be right about Ember being cool with him selling her old songs, though she demanded he give her a copy. She was even a little nostalgic listening to them, and she almost cried when Wes told her he'd gotten them from an old fan of hers.

It got Wes thinking about what other ghosts might feel if he reminded them of their past. The next on his list, he decided, was the Box Ghost. Why him? Frankly, Wes just wanted to know what that guy's deal was.

#phic phight #phic phight 2023 #fic #things i wrote #ember mclain #wes weston #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp

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pascalispretty · 2 years

Text

Breathe Me In

Rafael Barba x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2510

Warnings: Oral Sex/Cunnilingus

Summary: You try to convince Rafael to be a little sweeter to you after bringing him lunch. He obliges.

Written for @lannister-slings-and-arrows, @melk917 and @pascalispretty's Wet Hot Summer Bingo, fulfilling the 'Watermelon Sugar' prompt. As always, an immense thank you to @lannister-slings-and-arrows for editing; any remaining Britishisms are my own. Also on AO3.

The cafe is only ten minutes from Rafael’s apartment but by the time you’ve walked there to pick up lunch and come back you’re so sweaty you look like you’ve just finished a 5k. Your tee shirt sticks to your back as you catch your breath just inside the door, steeling yourself for the trip up four flights of stairs.

The city is in the middle of a heatwave, the humidity rendering the air thick and oppressive and still. While the AC was on the fritz at your own apartment, you had temporarily decamped to your boyfriend’s in an attempt to escape the record temperatures.

When you finally let yourself in you notice that the front room is empty. Rafael’s desk, where you had left him working earlier, is no longer occupied and you frown.

“Raf?” you call out, pausing to grab one of the napkins that had come with your takeout and dab at your forehead.

“Back here,” he answers and you roll your eyes. The bedroom is the coolest room in the apartment thanks to the unit in the window–you’re surprised he hadn’t moved his work there earlier. Kicking off your sandals, you make your way back towards his hideout.

You sigh in relief when the cooler air washes over you as you open the door. Rafael is sitting up against the headboard writing careful notes in the margins of the thick case file in his lap and he perks up noticeably when he sees the brown paper bag in your hand. He sets his pen down.

“Oh, thank God,” he huffs, shoving his work aside and reaching eagerly for the bag. “Did you get me more coffee?”

“Nope.” He looks comically crestfallen, as though you’d informed him of a national espresso shortage. “Man cannot live on caffeine alone, Rafael. Besides, it’s not like you don’t have coffee here.”

“I have to make that myself,” he grumbles, rifling through the bag and grabbing the sandwich he’d ordered. “What’s this?” He pulls one of the bottles free and holds it up.

“Watermelon lemonade. I got myself a blood orange one.” Before you join him on the bed you unbutton your shorts and kick them off. “I don’t know how you can even think about drinking coffee when it’s this hot out.” Rafael pulls a sceptical face, eyeing his drink suspiciously.

“Watermelon lemonade? They didn’t have regular lemonade?”

“Nope, just flavoured,” you tell him as you sit cross-legged on the bed beside him. He mutters something under his breath and you think you catch the word ‘gentrification’ as he passes the bag back to you.

“Hey,” you protest, knocking your knee into his thigh. “I walked forever in a heatwave to get you lunch and a cold drink. Just taste it.” You pull your own drink out and take a sip, pleasantly surprised at how well the flavours work together. Rafa is still looking doubtfully at the pink drink in his hand and you roll your eyes.

"You're such a baby, would it kill you to just try it?" you laugh. "I did, after all, nearly die of heatstroke bringing it to you. I thought you might be a little sweeter to me after my valiant sacrifice."

"Oh, is that what you're after? A little sweetness?" He gestures to your bare legs, arching a blond eyebrow at you and finally opening the bottle. "Is that why you're half naked? Trying to give me a hint?" He takes a sip and carefully maintains his neutral expression.

“I’m half naked because I’m sweaty and gross and as soon as I finish my sandwich I’m gonna hop in the shower.” You take a bite and cast your eye over the files scattered haphazardly on the bed.

“Maybe you should join me,” you tease. “You look like you could use a break.” He had been working all morning, already bent over a legal pad at the table when you had finally gotten out of bed. By the time you’d arrived at Rafael’s place last night, you’d been too tired to do much more than brush your teeth and fall into bed. Certainly too tired to have sex, despite how much you’ve missed him over the last week. He chuckles around a mouthful, shaking his head and swallowing so he can reply,

“You know as well as I do that that shower is not built for two people. One of us will fall out and I don’t have time for a trip to the emergency room today.” You pout even though you know he’s right.

“You seem to be enjoying your drink just fine. What happened to being sweeter to me if you liked it?” you ask, prompting another laugh from your boyfriend.

“It’s not terrible. Though it’s not caffeinated and it tastes more like strawberries than watermelon,” he informs you, holding the bottle out so you can try some. “And I don’t remember actually agreeing to that,” he teases. You make a face at him and he smiles.

“Maybe they added strawberries to improve the colour?” you suggest. He takes a sip from your proffered bottle and shrugs.

“Not bad. For not being coffee.”

“At the rate you’re building a tolerance, someday drinking coffee won’t be enough,” you laugh. “If you don’t slow down I‘m worried I’ll come home to find you freebasing the stuff.” Rafa laughs with you, almost choking on his lunch.

“If my coffee consumption bothers you you can go back to your own apartment with its broken AC.” He tries to sound threatening but the effect is slightly ruined by the fact that he has barely stopped eating long enough to speak.

“Yeah, yeah, as if. Then who’d bring you lunch?” You wink, crumpling the paper your food had been wrapped in and throwing it back into the bag. “I’m gonna shower.”

The bathroom is warmer than the bedroom was so you strip out of your remaining clothes as quickly as possible. You turn the water as cold as you can bear it and stand under the spray for a while, letting it cool you off. If you could, you would stay under for hours but you don’t want to rack up a huge water bill for Rafael. So you wash quickly using some of Rafa’s fancy shower gel and reluctantly turn the water off.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you briefly head into the living room to grab your book. You had thought about making yourself comfortable on the couch and reading so you don’t disturb Rafael while he works but it’s too hot in there for you to consider it.

“Raf, it won’t bother you if I read in here with you will it?” you ask, as you make your way back to the bedroom, shivering a little as the cooler air hits your damp skin. “It’s too hot–”

Instead of returning to his file, Rafael had stacked it carelessly onto the bedside table with his legal pad and pens. He’d also taken his tee shirt and shorts off, leaving him sitting on the bed in only a pair of black boxer briefs.

“Why are you half naked now? Copying my cold shower idea?” you tease, throwing your book onto the dresser. He shakes his head.

“Come here,” he demands, holding his arms out for you. Raising one of your eyebrows, you do as you’re told; dropping the towel and settling yourself on his lap. You twine your arms around his neck and your fingers find the short hair at the nape of Rafa’s neck.

“What’s made you decide to stop being such a grump?” you ask, eyelids fluttering closed as his large hands stroke down your back and knead absently at the base of your spine. He doesn’t seem to care that you're still damp from your shower as his hands roam further south.

“Made an espresso while you were showering.” He says it jokingly but you’re pretty sure you can actually smell coffee on his breath. “And you did tell me I should be sweeter to you.” Rafael lowers his head to your neck, running his lips lightly over the delicate skin of your throat.

“I did.” You gasp softly when you feel his teeth drag against your pulse point, your fingers digging a little tighter into the nape of his neck.

“So…” Rafael murmurs, rolling the two of you until you’re pinned to the bed beneath him. “Let me be sweet to you.” You’re sure you’ll never tire of the feeling of him on top of you–his warm, broad body pressing you into the mattress.

Yet, for all that you normally love his bulk covering you like this, it’s not the most comfortable in this heat. Seemingly conscious of this, Rafael presses a quick, filthy kiss to your lips that stops as suddenly as it starts and begins making his way down your body.

You let yourself relax, sinking back against the sheets as Rafael sweeps his hands over you, sighing contentedly when one of his thumbs brushes against your nipple. Thoughts of your email that you’d wanted to check and the book you had wanted to finish leave your head within the space of a heartbeat as you concentrate on Rafa’s touch, his shoulders pressing against your thighs.

He takes his time. He trails his fingers down your chest, his mouth following to press kisses and nips across your collarbones and breasts–never pausing for very long. You shift restlessly underneath him, all too aware of the heat rising in your core and the slick starting to smear down your thighs.

“If this is your idea of being sweet to me, I might actually bring you coffee tomorrow,” you say softly, carding your fingers through his thick hair.

“Beautiful,” Rafael sighs, his breath warm on your sternum as he traces a slow, meandering path down your body with his lips. You whine when his tongue darts out to lick one of your nipples, the flesh stiffening further as his spit cools on your skin. His lips close over the tight bud, and the warm pull of his mouth makes you moan quietly. Those broad hands of his spread out over your hips, holding you steady as he finally settles between your thighs.

“You don’t look so bad down there yourself,” you manage, feeling more than a little breathless as he lazily presses kisses along the inside of your thighs. His hair tickles but his hand closes around your thigh when you involuntarily jerk away.

“I love your thighs. God, they’re so wonderful and warm around my head when I eat you out.” Rafa’s voice is rough, a low rumble that you feel vibrating against your leg as he drags his tongue down the inside of your thigh and stops just short of your cunt. The sight of him worshipping them with more kisses and licks is downright heavenly–you want to burn it into your memory, to have it keep you company on the nights when he works late.

“How mad would you be if I took a photo of you just like this?” Rafa doesn’t dignify your teasing question with a response, preferring instead to nip at your soft flesh until you’re sure you’ll have marks.

It seems to take an eternity for him to duck his head down and swipe his tongue between your folds, an obscene moan ripped from his throat.

“Fuck, querida. You taste so sweet.” You’re barely listening, focused instead on the way he pushes his shoulders a little further under your thighs and the way his hands slide up to grab your ass. That one pass of his tongue is nowhere near enough. It’s a single drop of rain trying to contain a wildfire.

“God, Rafael–” Your brief attempt at pleading is abruptly curtailed when Rafa closes his mouth around your clit, his tongue swirling lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. The noise that is ripped out of you sounds broken, high and needy and desperate and you wind your fingers into Rafa’s soft hair.

Your nails scratch at his scalp as he groans against you and heat surges down your spine, lighting all of your nerve endings on fire as it goes. Your back arches and you tilt your hips, presenting yourself to Rafael’s mouth as best as you can with his hands still holding you in place.

He adopts a slow, almost teasing, pace that you think is probably payback for attempting to deny him his coffee. Rafa’s tongue sweeps messily along the seam of your cunt and traces lazy shapes over your clit, ignoring your attempts to buck your hips up against him. Occasionally his lips close around it and suck, unfailingly making you moan sharply and send more electricity lancing through your body.

When he pushes his tongue inside your cunt it rips a sound out of you that you can only describe as a wail. His eagerness to press as deeply inside of you as he can makes his nose bump against your clit, a twin assault that has you tugging harder at his hair in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself. It only encourages him, his hands gripping your ass tighter as he tries to pull you down impossibly further onto his tongue.

Something about his fervour, his attempt to get even closer with no regard for his own ability to breathe, makes your hips lock and your heart hammer so fast that you can hear your blood roaring in your ears. You can feel the barest exhalations against your slick skin as he breathes you in.

“Fuck, fuck Rafa—‘m gonna come, don’t stop,” you babble, your fingers twisting in his hair. Rafael groans against you, the vibrations sending you spiralling higher. The bed creaks beneath you as Rafa shuffles forward on his knees, trying to push his whole body closer. His fingertips sink into the flesh of your ass, his grip turning to iron as he pushes you over the edge.

Every muscle in your body feels like it tenses and then lets go, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you can’t breathe. Heat floods out from your belly, familiar and primal, making your toes curl and your fingers twitch in Rafa’s hair as the warmth reaches them. You feel more slick flooding your cunt and you’re vaguely aware of the hungry moan it elicits from Rafael as it hits his tongue.

You come back to yourself slowly, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Rafael carries on lazily stroking his tongue inside of you. When you manage to look down at him your eyes meet his, the pale green almost completely eclipsed by the black of his pupils. You finally loosen your grip on his hair and your fingers feel stiff as you uncurl them.

A soft noise of protest escapes you when Rafa pulls away to press more kisses against your thighs. You catch a smug grin curling across his lips.

“Imagine the orgasm you would have gotten if you’d brought me my coffee in the first place.”

#wet hot summer bingo #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #wethotsummerbingo

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geraskierbrainrot · 1 year

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This is a collection of fics, canon or AUs, where Geralt and Jaskier have a meet-cute — a cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners

Flirting (Wasn't Flirting) by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG | T | 1k

Sugar and Spice Witcher bingo Prompt: wrong date

Fire Lizards and Flirting by @wherethewordsare | 1k | G

Out on an ecological survey, Geralt has to fish a handsome stranger with a lute of all things out of the river. Roach is a big goofy Great Dane and responsible for the need to fish the guy out.

sweet tooth by willkinnie | 1k | G

so basically, a few days ago i was trying not to think abt an upcoming dentist appt, ergo new dentist geralt trying his best to make everyone comfortable and jaskier that has to deal with it. that's it. that's the story.

Up to Date by @lambden | 2k | G

"You were so hot that when you asked if I was the blind date you were looking for, I lied and said yes. But then your actual date comes up to introduce themselves and I'm so embarrassed." for Geralt/Jaskier.

sideway spirits by @julek | 2k | T this work is part of a series but can be read as a standalone (though I recommend the whole series)

“Got anyone in today?” He wonders, nodding to the dark green door that leads to the mortuary downstairs. “The paper says there’s been a car crash. ”Geralt shakes his head. “No one in yet. But I’m sure they’ll start coming soon.”

Weird Fishes by @aalizazareth | 3k | T

Jaskier doesn't think he has a superpower until he meets Geralt, who can't believe he's finally met someone who's able to see him.

Signs and Dogs by @dahliavandare | 3k | T

While jogging with Roach, Geralt meets Jaskier and his dog.

→ and the subsequent Geralt and Roach, Jaskier and Baby series

Don't Look a Gift Gobling in the Mouth by @yoursummerfrost | 3k | G

“No, I’m serious, I really do have like, uh—a goblin… thing… in my house!” Jaskier insists. “Will you come take a look at it? I don’t want it to, I don’t know, eat my liver or something?” Geralt massages at his temple. “Very few monsters are that picky. It would probably just eat all of you.” Aka: The one where Jaskier hires Geralt to investigate a monster in his house, and the outcome is somehow better and worse than Geralt expects.

Never Been in Love Before by jesskier | 3k | T

Geralt takes his dog, Roach, for a walk and meets his new neighbor.

Meet-Cute for the Socially Anxious by @freyjawriter24 | 4k | T

Jaskier liked people, but he also didn’t like people, and now he was on his way to a house party where there were very definitely going to be a lot of people. Most of which he didn’t know. Ugh. University was a stressful place. *** Modern everyone-is-human AU where Jaskier and Geralt meet at a uni house party and bond over D&D. Inspired by The Amazing Devil's Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious.

all roads lead to tranquility base by seasofglass | 4k | T

Jaskier needs some promotional photos for the launch of his new album, but as much as he loves composing new music, posing for the camera makes him a nervous wreck. On top of all, he's saddled with an unconventional photographer who claims he'll be able to show Jaskier a new side of himself. Navigating his feelings of anxiety and attraction, Jaskier remains skeptical that the photographer can deliver on his promises.

Sweet as Chocolate by @xianvar | 6k | T

“I don’t think that’ll be your next hit,” blue-haired-regular says apologetically. Jaskier is coming up with a witty reply – he really is – when he notices the figure in the back corner, seated underneath the broken lamp Valdo has been “about to fix” for weeks now. White hair, a scar over his right eye, uncomfortable gaze fixed on a large cup of coffee – it must be chocolate-voice, and Jaskier is ready to bet his favourite guitar on that. He’s even more swoon-worthy than his imagination has made him out to be. Jaskier temporarily forgets all his words, to the point that he only nods agreeably when Valdo says, “Fuck it, make yourself useful if you’re done; I’m gonna go take a leak.” Jaskier enjoys his lot in life – he has friends, a job that he loves, and all the opportunities to flirt that he could ever want. Until a gorgeous white-haired man starts frequenting Jaskier’s little bakery-slash-café and turns his whole world upside down.

hold my hand, show me something sweet by ghostiewritesthings | 7k | T

“You alright?” The other man groaned, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He screamed into his palms for almost a full minute, and Geralt let him, waiting patiently to the side. He’s been there. Eventually, the stranger stopped and took a deep breath. He left his hands over his face. “Never been better.”

a dream is a wish the heart makes by @dear-galileo | 12k | T

the last thing geralt had expected to do was meet a prince in the woods. no- the last thing that geralt expected to do was fall in love with the prince, and make a deal with a witch to see him again. (cinderella witcher retelling)

Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading! And thank you for all the appreciation on the last rec list, I hope you enjoyed it all ♡

#geraskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic recs

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andreafmn · 1 year

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12 Days of Ficmas - Day 2

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): i broke my ankle slipping on ice but hey at least the ER nurse/doctor is cute

Word Count: 1.5K

Story Description: (Y/N) truly believes working the night shift is a cursed practice. Every time she's scheduled during that time she has some sort of accident. This one just so happened to land her in the hospital.

Fandom: Chicago Med

Pairing: Will Halstead x Fem!Reader

A/N: sorry, I posted so late. Was busy taking care of my grandma. But enjoy this short, cute story 💖

Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business

If you’d like to be tagged in 12 days of ficmas, let me know in the comments.

For any other story: click here

Here’s the 12 days of Ficmas schedule: click me

<;- Previous | Next ->

No More Night Shifts

Working retail during the Christmas time was one of the most stressful things anyone can do. From the hustle and bustle of living in the city, to getting to work early and leaving late at night, to the freezing weather of the Chicago winter. It took a lunatic to agree to pull double shifts.

That crazy person just so happened to be (Y/N).

Her boss had asked her to fill in for a colleague that had come down with a very bad cold and could not make it in for her night shift. In the spur of the moment, she had said yes. But as she walked, the cold wind nipping at her skin, her feet sliding on the icy pavement, she contemplated returning home.

(Y/N) hated working the night shift at the store she worked in. Customers were rude, management always expected her to stay overtime without pay, and for some reason, she always got into some sort of accident when she was going back home.

And just as she had thought, the shift was a nightmare. She filled up her bad customer bingo. Which went something like this:

Mister ‘It doesn’t scan so I guess it’s free.”

Miss ‘My coupon is expired, but I’m gonna try to use it.”

The ‘You don’t mind using your employee for me, right?’ person.

The family excursion troop.

The no receipts returners.

And the people that think you’re a personal shopper.

By the time three in the morning rolled around, (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor. Her whole body was sore and her eyes were tired from sleep. She cursed past her for agreeing to pick up that night shift. She thought of being on her couch, a hot mug of tea in her hands, and bundled up with her thickest blanket with her boyfriend. She would be warm and comfortable, instead of absolutely miserable and cold.

But her daydreaming took a turn for the worst.

As she neared the bus stop, she didn’t notice the big puddle of sludge that had formed on the sidewalk. She slid on the pavement and her body collided with the frozen ground. One second she was walking and the other she was in the hospital.

***

In the Emergency Department of Gaffney Chicago Medical Center, doctors and nurses were up to their necks with patients. With the weather going down, many people succumbed to the illnesses the cold temperatures brought. Cases of colds, flu, and pneumonia trickled in and out of the hospital at a fast pace. The ED was never empty.

“How’re we doing, Maggie?” Will Halstead asked the charge nurse of the department.

“Well, we keep filling beds as soon as one empties,” she sighed. “It looks like it’s gonna be a very long winter season. Although it looks like tonight might be slowing down. You going home yet?”

“I was just getting ready to do so,” he smiled tiredly. But the two were interrupted when the brick chirped. The doctor let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that his plans to finally lay down were just trampled. “Let me have it.”

“Incoming,” Maggie announced. “Trauma 1.”

“Talk to me,” Will told the paramedic as they walked in. That was before he took a good look at the patient. “What happened?”

“Unconscious female, visible ankle fracture. Witness said she slid on ice and fell to the ground. She’s been in an out of consciousness. We have stabilized the right ankle with a splint and there is no sign of a spinal injury. The ID in her bag says her name is (Y/N) (Y/LN).”

“I know,” he breathed. “She’s my girlfriend.”

They all entered the room, other staff following suit. Tension built into the space as everyone noticed who it was. If they didn’t know (Y/N) personally, they knew of her and her involvement with the ED’s attending physician.

“Alright everyone, on my count,” he told the paramedics and nurses that would help transfer the woman from the gurney onto the hospital bed. “One, two, three.”

They all took hold of (Y/N)’s body, careful not to disrupt her ankle or any other injury she might’ve had. Behind them, Nurse Doris rolled in the X-Ray machine, handing Will and April a lead apron before she instructed the rest of the staff to exit the room, as well as the paramedics.

“So, it looks like it’s a bimalleolar fracture,” the doctor announced as the image came up on the screen. “Thankfully, the ankle is not dislocated so immobilizing it with a cast should do the trick.”

“Alright, I’ll get the kit.”

“Okay, let’s also get a full blood workup, and a head CT,” Will told April. “Now, pupillary response is good. Heartbeat is steady. She’s breathing on her own which is a good sign. Let’s start an IV drip with 2.5 mg of morphine…”

“Wait, Will, look,” she said. “She’s waking up.”

(Y/N)’s eyes started fluttering open, the bright lights worsening the headache she already had. Her whole body felt mangled and sore, and she was sure it was not from the long day at work.

“Hey, welcome back,” a voice said. “Can you tell us your name and where you are?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I’m in a hospital because god doesn’t exist.”

When she finally opened her eyes, she suddenly did not mind that she was in the hospital. Before her, she was met with a handsome red-haired doctor. He smiled at her and she could feel butterflies forming in her stomach.

But her pleasantly surprised feelings quickly shifted to ones of embarrassment, when she noticed who it was.

“He-ey, doctor,” she stammered. “Funny running into you here.”

“Good to see your sense of humor wasn’t impaired,” he chuckled brightly. “Now, do you remember what happened?”

“I was walking to the bus stop to go back home when I slipped on a puddle of sludgy ice and now I’m here.”

“Okay. And other than your ankle and your head, does anything else hurt?”

“My pride,” she grumbled. “I told you, the night shift is cursed.”

“It sounds to me that you were distracted and you fell,” he laughed. “I don’t think there is any curse.”

“Yet you all believe people turn crazy because of the full moon.”

“Well, your memory seems to be okay. So, I’m gonna leave you with April so she can get your bloodwork to the lab,” Will told (Y/N), a kind smile on his face. His initial panic subsided when she woke up and recognized who they both were.

“Can you stay?” (Y/N) pleaded softly.

“I promise to be gentle,” April chuckled. If there was one thing she knew about her friend it was how desperately afraid of needles she was. “I’ll draw your blood really quickly and then I’ll sneak in the IV. How does that sound?”

“Like you’re gonna still gonna stick me with needles.”

“At least the pain in your ankle is gonna stop,” Will offered. But (Y/N)’s fear was still evident on her face. “Alright, just focus on me, babe. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Just don’t let go of my hand.”

April quickly got to work as Will distracted (Y/N) with mindless chatter of what they would do during Christmas – spend the day in pjs, drink hot chocolate in front of the fire, and exchange gifts even though they told each other not to get presents. And before she knew it, the IV dripping pain medication into her system has started doing its job.

“There,” April announced, calling the couple’s attention. “We’re all done. I’ll be back soon to take you to the CT scan – for precaution -- and to bring your results. I’ll bring by the kit in a bit.”

“Thanks, April.”

The nurse smiled back at the couple in response, closing the curtains on them as she exited.

“So, what’s the verdict, doc? Am I gonna lose my leg?”

“Nah, just 9 to 12 weeks with a cast. You’ll have to come in a coupled of times to do x-rays, just to make sure the bone’s healing as it should,” Will explained. “But don’t worry, we don’t have to amputate.”

“Well, no late-night shifts for me in a while,” she joked. “Maybe that’s what I needed to break the curse, huh?”

“What?” he laughed. “Slipping on ice and spending your morning in the ED?”

“Hey, at least the doctor is cute,” she said before she placed a kiss on his lips.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, baby. It was pretty scary to see you unconscious on a stretcher like that.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Halstead. It would take a lot more to bring me down.”

“Alright, (Y/L/N). Settle down,” he smiled at her. Will had been terrified that something worse would have happened, but if a little slip is the worst that could happen, he could live with that. “Take this as a little Christmas gift – you won’t have to work for some time.”

“NO NIGHT SHIFTS!” (Y/N) exclaimed excitedly. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

Taglist: @beckiej0073-blog @thatgirljayy

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un-unavoidableanxiousball · 5 months

Text

@fandom-free-bingo I have no idea why I went with this T^T I swear I didn't want any heavy whump... I disagreed with myself; apparently that's how my mind works now.

Tell me if I forgot to tag something.

Masterlist

Prompt used: "Please, don't do this."

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: none

Characters: Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan

Tags: angst, hurt, possible out of character,

! Warnings ! : suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, self-harm, depression, mention of schizophrenia, bullying and addiction

Word count: 381

Reader's discretion is advised.

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After Owen Savage case with each passing day Spencer was feeling more and more depressed. Nowadays disappointment fills him when he wakes up. He's aware taking more dilaudid is too risky (also he's afraid of triggering schizophrenia) so he reached to self-harm instead. While logically, at the back of his head, he knows neither of these options are good for him.

Reid can't help himself but to continue to try stop feeling so numb.

Telling Morgan about his childhood bullies didn't really help either. While some part of him felt relief for finally sharing what happened with someone. Memories were brought to the forefront of his mind; Along with that feeling of helplessness, embarrassment and humiliation.

And now his sitting on the bathroom floor leaned against the wall barely holding his phone. His head is throbbing yet he feels himself getting light headed. He barely hears Derek from his phone anymore.

Reid got carried away. He didn't mean to do that.

And panicked - he called Derek.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

With shaky hands Spencer pressed to call Derek.

"Morgan."

"Derek?" Spencer whimpered.

"Kid? What's going on?" Derek says worried.

"I'm sorry." he sobs "My hand was shacking, slipped an-" his throat closed and can't finish the sentence.

"Spencer, where are you?"

"Bathroom. Home." he managed to whisper his answer.

"Hey kid it's gonna be alright, okay? Just focus on my voice." Spencer let out a whine.

"Take a deep breath Spence. I'm on my way kid." Spencer tries to breath in.

"Der-"

"Shh. Just keep breathing okay? Try to calm down."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈

Morgan barged into Spencer's apartment. Then made his way to the bathroom. He was met with Reid on the floor, head leaned on the shower wall. Derek already called the ambulance on his way here but it won't be here for minutes.

Derek kneeled next to almost passed out Reid, immediately putting pressure on the cuts.

"Please, don't do this to me Pretty Boy." he despaired.

Spencer groaned from the pain.

"It's gonna be alright okay kid? Just hang in there."

After a minute Spencer closed his eyes, passing out.

"Hang in there. Don't do this. Help's on the way. Hang on." Derek repeated under his nose.

When paramedics arrived, then, only then did Derek let go of Spencer.

Derek prays Spencer will get through this.

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#derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfic bingo #fanfic #FrostyEditionBingo #bingo #FandomFreeBingo #angst #heavy angst #hurt/no comfort #heavy topics

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blooming-violets · 2 years

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Omggg (IDK if u liked it or not but I'm gonna shoot my shot) I wish u would write a sub! peter fic, idk I just feel that with the way u write it would be awesome

I might have one in the works for the bingo prompts but who knows when I'll ever actually get back to those so let's headcanon the sub!peter in the mean time! [x]

[TASM!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]

Sub!Peter would be all about your pleasure. His entire existence is devoted to you and making sure you're taken care of. You are his number one priority.

Being Spider-Man means being in charge and holding authority and certain standards. He needs to constantly come out on top when he's in the suit. By the time he gets home, all he wants is to give up all his control. He wants to put himself into your hands. He wants you to lead him and instruct him on anything you want. He doesn't want to have to think. You are his puppet master.

On the opposite end, your working as an underpaid employee in your job with a tyrant of a boss. You spend your working hours feeling helpless and overlooked. When you get home to Peter, it's nice to feel like you have the power for once. He allows you to regain that sense of control that you lose during the day.

aaannd the rest is going under a read more (18+):

His own gratification wouldn't even be a thought in his head. It's up to you to decide when and if he gets to cum. He wants you to use him whenever and where ever you so desire. He's your very willing plaything.

You love putting him in handcuffs especially when their locked over his head so you get to admire the bulging of his biceps. You both know that Peter could easily break out of them in a second if he so desired but he plays the part of the good submissive and dutifully stays bound for you.

Part of your play is that he's not allowed to touch you unless you tell him so. Sometimes Peter forgets those rules or can't help himself. He's almost constantly trying to nuzzle his face into your neck or wrapping a hand around your waist. You often have to sternly tell him to have patience and force yourself to step away from him for a moment to break the contact. As much you as secretly love his attention, you need to remind him who's the one calling all the shots.

Peter Parker is the king of eating pussy. The majority of his role as a sub is do nothing but pleasure you with his mouth. It's something he's more than happy to oblige in.

You sat on the edge of the bed with Peter on his knees in front of you. His arms were cuffed behind his back and he let out a soft moan as you leaned foreword to cup his face in your hands to kiss him.

His warm eyes fluttered open when you pulled away. His head tilts up to you like he was trying to keep himself as close to your lips as he possibly can.

"Let me worship you...please," he practically whimpers out his beg to please you.

You let your hand run through his soft locks of hair and come to a rest on the back of his neck. You can't help but lean forward and kiss him again.

"I love you," you whisper when you pull away.

A smile breaks out on his face, "I love you, too. So much. Please, let me show you. Let me show you how much." You can hear the pure desire and need that is heavy in voice.

You spread your legs wide for him as an open invitation.

Peter's mouth parts, practically salivating at the sight before him, and he clumsily shuffles closer to fit himself in the gap you provided for him. His lips quickly find your inner thigh and shower your flesh with kisses. Soft and sensual as he moves closer to the treasure he's searching for. You get a quick glimpse of how hard his cock is at the mere sight of you before the top of his head blocks the view. A low groan rumbles in the back of his throat the second his tongue makes contact with your pussy.

You angle your hips up from the mattress to give him the best access. His soft, lapping tongue on your clit is so familiar and, yet, every time it never ceases to amaze you at how well he's able to make you feel. He's forever enthusiastic and relentless with his ministrations until he has you squirming above him. Your gasping breath becomes desperate for your release. Every lick makes you curl your toes and arch your back. The more turned on you get, the louder his own moaning becomes. He's getting off on the fact that he can pleasure you so efficiently with his hands tied behind his back.

You reach down to grab a fistful of his hair. He purposely keeps it longer knowing you love to use it as a way to control him. You push the back of his head harder between your legs, mashing your wet cunt against his face, as you grind over his tongue.

"Right there, Pete. Fuck. I'm close," you moan and close your eyes.

The waves of pleasure rolling through you come to a head and you spasm against his face. A loud cry rips from your throat and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fall back against the mattress.

But Peter doesn't stop his assault on your sensitive clit. He keeps lapping your tender flesh in an earnest flurry of passion until you have to rip him away by a tuft of his hair.

He forces himself up onto his feet and falls on top of you, unable to hold himself up with his locked arms. His tongue trails up your stomach and over to your breasts. He can't keep his mouth away from your body. You allow him to suck and bite on your nipples, enjoying the feeling of his body weight over you, until your writhing underneath him once more. The head of his stiff cock is pressed at your gaping entrance but he refused to push it any further unless you give him the okay.

When you can hardly take it anymore, you force yourself to gain back your control. You shove his shoulder and push him onto his back. He allows himself to roll over for you, scooting further up the bed, and smiles when you straddle his hips. Salvia glints off his chin in the light and his cheeks are smeared with your juices. His eyes are glazed over with lust.

You can't help but lean down to kiss him. A kiss filled with passion and love but an underlining of fire and heat like you couldn't ever get enough of him no matter how hard you tried.

There are times when you can see he's extra needy and bursting to be touched by you. It's hard to resist him when he's staring at you with his giant, pleading puppy dog eyes trying to silently beg you to give him something. Anything at all to relieve him. It's those moments that you like to tease him the most.

You love commanding him not to cum while you touch him. He used to not be able to hold himself back but now he's become a pro at controlling himself.

There are times when you'll spend days bringing him to the brink of orgasm only to then immediately stop. You'll do this repeatedly throughout the day. Edge him closer and closer but never let him find release. It only makes the moment you finally allow it that much more powerful for him.

You also get off on making him watch you touch yourself. You love hearing him whimper and whine as he's forced to sit in a chair opposite you and watch you make yourself cum.

Most nights you prefer tying his hands to the headboard of the bed, climbing on top of him, and riding him relentlessly. Using his body for your own pleasure.

The times that you do let him lose to fuck you, he'll take full advantage of it. Peter will pound you long and hard, have you screaming out his name, until you can't stand anymore. He loves to take you in front of a mirror so he can watch your face the entire time.

He showed interest in his own anal play so the two of you have slowly been exploring it. It's new territory to both of you and involves proper research and prepping. Eventually you'll work your way up to fully pegging him but, for the time being, he'll enjoy the feeling of toys to achieve a prostate orgasm.

No matter what you two get up to in the bedroom, it will always end in cuddles and aftercare. Usually Peter will rest his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair. He'll often fall asleep there. Sometimes you end up having more slow, soft, sensual sex where there are no dom or subs roles, just the two of you softly enjoying each other one last time for the night. Other times you'll prepare a nice bath for you two to relax in or give each other massages. It always ends in nothing but love and affection for the other.

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #spiderman #peter parker x reader

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