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little-diable · 8 months

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Our sinful secrets - Priest!Loki (smut)

Y’all voted for priest!Loki, so here we go. This is super filthy, as a warning. Please like and reblog, if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Laufeyson went with the reader’s father to war, returning with him years later. Many things have changed over the years, just like the reader has, finally all grown up and ready to sin with the handsome priest.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (m), age gap, secret relationship, loss of virginity, religious connotations, power play

Pairing: priest!Loki x fem!reader (4k words)

“Stop fidgeting, (y/n).” Her mother’s sharp voice rang through the afternoon, forcing (y/n) to stand still. She had been shifting her weight from one foot to the other, eyes focused on the end of the street their house had been built on. Her heart was racing, fingers interlaced in front of her waist in order to stop them from moving around with her nervousness filing her veins.

“When do you think–” the rest of her sentence was left unspoken as (y/n)’s eyes found a black car turning into their street, driving towards their house. A cry left her mother as the car came to a halt in front of their house, exposing the man the two hadn’t seen in years.

(Y/n) stumbled down the stairs with tears rolling down her cheeks, her mother hot on her heels. Before either one of them could speak another word (y/n) had flung herself into her father’s open arms, pressing herself as close to him as humanly possible. Her mother followed her movements, pushing herself closer to him with cries leaving her.

“How I missed you two.” The all too familiar voice of her father left (y/n) chuckling with glee, finally stepping away as someone cleared their throat, forcing all eyes to snap towards him. A man with black hair stood a few steps away from them, smiling at the two women whose eyes flickered between the ones of (y/n)’s father and the ones of the stranger.

“Girls, do you remember Priest Laufeyson? I invited him to stay with us for a few weeks, at least as long as the wounded soldiers are still taking up the church rooms.” The handsome man stepped closer, allowing (y/n)’s eyes to wander up and down his frame. Fuck, had he always been this handsome? (Y/n) couldn’t remember much about the man who had joined her father at war, giving those in need a guiding hand, taking their pain and sorrows from them.

“Of course we do, what a joy to see you, Priest Laufeyson! A man of God is always welcomed to stay with us!” (Y/n)’s mother wrapped her arms around the priest, pulling him in for a loving embrace before she searched the closeness of her husband again. “Please, come inside, we’ve prepared some food!”

“Oh please, Loki is just fine, Anne! Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home.” His voice shot shudders down (y/n)’s spine, leaving her choking on the improper thoughts filling her mind as her gaze found the cross dangling from his neck. (Y/n) could almost imagine it hitting her chin as he fucked her, how she’d gasp whenever she’d get to trace the cool metal with her curious fingers.

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n), do you still remember me?” It took her a few seconds to reply, trying to wet her all too dry mouth.

“Uhm, yeah, I think so?” He couldn’t help but laugh at the words rolling off her tongue, forcing a smile to widen on her lips as she followed her parents inside. (Y/n) could feel his eyes on her, studying her every move as if he was all too aware of the thoughts racing through her mind. She tried to wreck her mind for any memories, days where their paths have crossed, but all (y/n) could now focus on was the burning fire simmering deep inside of her, about to take over like the waves of the roaring ocean had taken over God’s first try to create this very world.

“Please, sit, (y/n) will help me bring out what we need.” A sigh threatened to leave (y/n) as she followed her mother into the kitchen, not daring to look back in fear that the handsome priest was still looking at her, forcing her knees to give out. (Y/n) didn’t speak a word as she kept carrying different plates and bowls filled with food out into the dining room, catching a glimpse of the man’s neck as he undid his collar, placing it down on the table with his rosary following moments later.

“Mhm, look at you pet, I should paint you, naked with just my rosary on.” Heat flushed through her as she looked up at the man. She was kneeling in front of him, naked without any clothes on to hide the body he had claimed numerous times before. His marks littered her skin, marks from his teeth, his lips, and his fingers, marks (y/n) never wanted to get rid of. “I can’t wait to feel your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, but first, you shall read to me.”

Trembling fingers grasped the bible he reached out for her to take, glassy eyes struggling to take in the words that had been printed into the thin paper. His hands began to move, slowly popping open the buttons of his black shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her wide eyes. No air was sucked into her lungs as (y/n) averted her gaze, desperately trying to concentrate on the psalms he wanted her to read.

“Are you alright, (y/n)?” Her father’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, trying to bite down the heat that now flushed through her. Without even trying to do so her eyes found Loki’s, the smirking man was already staring at her, as if he knew just what she had been thinking of. A small “Yes” left her before she sat down next to her mother, across from the grinning priest, whose eyes kept meeting hers like a moth drawn to any source of light.

“Why don’t you pray for us, Loki?”

……

“I didn’t take you for an early riser, (y/n).” His voice was softer than any fabric she had ever touched, eyes threatening to flutter shut to relish in the emotions he pushed through her system. She turned towards him, staring up at the priest who smirked at her, one hand holding onto a cup of coffee, the other grasping his bible. “May I?”

All (y/n) could do was nod her head, watching him sink down on the cold wood leading up to the entrance of their house. It was still early, barely any people were roaming the area, nothing but the all too familiar quietness (y/n) had learned to appreciate after being forced to prepare for bomb raids, not adjusting well to the sensory overload.

“Can I ask you something?” Her small voice broke the quietness, coaxing a hum out of the man who kept watching her, studying the woman as if he was a book written in a foreign language, needing to figure out its meaning.

“What did you do at war? Did you pray with soldiers?” He took a sip of his coffee before he placed it down, body fully turning towards (y/n). Their eyes met just like they had moments ago, forcing her to straighten her posture, not wanting him to ever avert his gaze again. She could almost feel his hands on her skin, how his thumb would stroke over her swollen lips before he’d push his digit down on her tongue, preparing her for his cock. Fuck, she needed to snap out of these daydreams of hers, quickly.

“I did, I prayed with those that were close to dying, with those in need of a guiding hand. Whoever needed a calm word, I was there for it all.” A proud smile tugged on Loki’s lips as he reminisced in the memories, making (y/n) hum in approval. She had always been intrigued by religion, by God, and by the holy book, even though she wasn’t nearly as religious as her mother. “If you want to, you could join me when I visit the church today.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” (Y/n) averted her gaze, eyes finding her hands, watching how she fumbled with the fabric of her dress. Before she could even catch up with his movements, the priest had softly grasped her chin, touching her as if she was the holy book itself, careful not to hurt her. He tilted her head up, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his piercing eyes.

“I’d be an honour to have you there with me, I’m sure you’d be a joy to have around for those that are still struggling as well. Please, join me, (y/n).” Her cheeks grew warmer by the second, eyes struggling to hold contact. No man had ever managed to hold such a power over her, forcing her to back down from any fight she’d gladly take on.

“It’s been a while since I’ve stepped foot into a church, if I’m honest.” Her voice wavered, teeth buried in her lower lip. His chuckles had an addictive touch to them, forcing a few soft chuckles out of (y/n).

“Well, it’s been a while for me too, love. You have nothing to worry about.”

……

(Y/n)’s eyes didn’t know where to look first, at the wounded soldiers pacing around the quiet hallways, at the altar that pictured Christ and the heavy wooden cross he had once carried, or at the white collar that was wrapped around Loki’s throat. He guided her, hand placed on her lower back, murmuring soft words to her, explaining to her who was who and how some of these people have ended up here.

“How do you know all of this? I thought you hadn’t been here since the war had started?” Both were sitting on a wooden bench, eyes focused on the cross, watching the sunlight break through the colourful glass windows. It felt as if God himself was speaking to the two, with the dancing sunrays telling a story of love, of lust, of heartbreak.

“The nuns around here mailed me enough letters to keep me updated, they told me about those that were brought here, those that died, who I should pray for with them from afar.” Her eyes were drawn to his fingers, watching his digits fumble with the beads of his rosary, focusing on the silent prayers he should speak.

“I admire that, it must have been hard to be so far away. I missed my father every day, but I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel to miss your home, your church, and those that work with you in God’s name.” Loki’s hand found her knee, slowly stroking the fabric of her see through tights. Goosebumps rose on her skin, body trembling from the soft touch that felt as if the holy spirit itself was guiding the priest.

“It was hard, but I was surrounded by people who gave me enough strength, like your father. I owe him a lot for his kindness, and yet here I am, betraying him.” The last part of his sentence was whispered, quiet words that left (y/n) frozen, wondering what the priest was talking about. He drew his hand from her knee, finding its way back to his lap, to the rosary that dangled from his other hand.

Once again (y/n) found herself dreaming of laying close to the man, she could almost feel his soft fingertips stroking up her spine, drawing shapes into her skin as if he was writing words into the body he had claimed the night prior. God, she’d burn in the eternal fire for her sins, but (y/n) couldn’t care less about what may await her, couldn’t worry about the punishment for her sins, all she could care about was Loki, the priest she found herself longing for.

……

“You like this spot, don’t you?” His voice ripped her out of her thoughts, eyes fluttering up from her book to look at Loki. The sun was just about to go down, drenching the sky in a deep orange that left a shadow on his features, making him appear like a demon crawling from the ashes rather than a man walking with God’s grace guiding him.

“It’s so calm out here, I enjoy it more than the thin walls in our home that don’t seem to swallow whispers and conversations I’m no part of.” Slowly she closed her book, letting it rest on her lap as she kept tracing the worn out edges with her fingertips, waiting for him to move closer.

“Well, I don’t want to disturb your peace.” Priest Laufeyson turned from her, about to walk back inside, but the small “Stay, please” rolling off (y/n)’s tongue left him halting in his step, turning back towards her to sit down on the spot he had sat on this very morning.

“Can I ask you for your guidance?” All he did was nod his head, asking her to speak on without using any words for her ears to pick up. He watched her, watched how she furrowed her eyebrows, how she grazed her lower lip with her teeth, her nervousness thumped through her system, leaving (y/n) trembling.

“Is it wrong of me to want something I should have no interest in having?” (Y/n) avoided his eyes, not daring to get lost in the pupils that have seen more darkness than a woman like her could even dare to think of. His hand found hers, squeezing her palm in a comforting manner.

“It depends on what it is you desire. Tell me, what is it you so desperately want, (y/n)?” The longer he spoke, the quieter his voice grew, eyes turning darker with every word he spoke. Both knew that they were walking a dangerous line, crossing a border far deeper than the trenches the soldiers had been forced to hide in as they fought for their country, surrounded by soil so rotten and dark, no living being could escape death’s cold grasp.

“Priest Laufeyson, I-” no further word managed to roll off her tongue, nothing but a breath of air managed to leave her as their eyes met. Both moved slowly, chasing their touches even though both knew that there was no going back once their lips met. It was a slow kiss, it had something almost loving to it, allowing the two to adjust to the new sensation.

“You’re testing me, sweet thing. It feels as if God is trying to see how loyal I am to him. But how can I deny such a sweet temptation?” His words forced a soft laugh out of (y/n), pulling away from him to watch the setting sun with her racing mind. Without speaking another word, his hand found her chin, making her look at him so that he could chase her lips again. Both found themselves longing for one another, they have tasted the sweet temptation, have given into Lucifer’s call, there was no escaping from the hell they now called their home.

“(Y/n)? Is Loki with you? We are about to have dinner.” Her mother’s voice echoed through the evening, forcing them to part with wide eyes and heavy breaths ripping through them. Their lips were swollen, pupils dilated from the lust swimming in them, a sight so sinful even God would turn away from them. Loki cupped her hand, thumb swiping over her lower lip like he had done in most of her daydreams, forcing heat to pool between her thighs.

“I’ll come to your room tonight, leave your door unlocked, if you want to wait up for me.” And with one last glance thrown her way, Priest Laufeyson disappeared inside the house, leaving (y/n) behind with a confused, hazy mind.

……

“Shh, you have to be quiet pet.” His voice broke through the dark night as he pulled her into his embrace, pushing (y/n) against the now locked door of her room. Their lips found back together, eyes fluttering close to relish in one another’s touch, making them feel as if the world had stopped spinning.

“You’re the sweetest temptation He has ever sent my way, I’ll happily sin if it means getting a taste of you.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her moans from rolling off her tongue, spurred on by his praises. No clear thought managed to break through the hazy cloud of lust filling her mind, forcing (y/n) to rely on his guidance, like a lone sheep lost from the flock He guided.

With their lips still pressed together, Loki pulled her towards her bed, pushing (y/n) down on the mattress. His knees kept pressing against the edge of the bed, allowing him to stare down on her as his slender fingers began working on his black dress shirt, falling to the ground with his collar following. (Y/n)’s eyes ranked over his naked upper body, sight caught on the cross dangling from his neck, reminding her of the daydreams that have left her heart racing and her thighs quivering.

“Take off your dress for me, let me see you.” She couldn’t stop shaking as she pulled her dress over her head, exposing her underwear to the man’s curious eyes. Almost as bare as Christ on the day of his crucifixion did (y/n) kneel for him, knees pressing into the soft blanket of hers. His fingers danced along her arms, finding the straps of her white bra to pull them down her shoulders, undoing the piece of fabric to let it fall to the ground. “Such a pretty sight, may He forgive me for tainting a pure body and soul like yours.”

“Can I touch you? Please, I want to feel you.” Her quiet whispers filled her room like a prayer spoken in an empty church, echoing through the hallways. Loki kept studying her, hand resting comfortably against her cheek and jaw before he nodded his head, stepping out of his trousers. His raven dark hair perfectly framed his features, reminding her of a demon that had crawled straight from hell, one with the darkness of its home, one with the sins it commits on a daily basis.

His hand found hers, guiding her towards his growing bulge, cock pressing against the thin fabric of his underwear. (Y/n) had her eyes focused on his hands, watching him free his cock, allowing her to marvel at him as he shot her an encouraging smile. Not once had she touched a man before, and yet (y/n) found herself grateful for the books she had read, stories no woman should ever read, and yet her curiosity had spurred her on. She trusted her instincts, softly wrapping her hands around his cock.

“Use your mouth, pet.” She hesitated for a second before her eyes fluttered up to meet his. Slowly (y/n) parted her lips, tongue stroking over his precum-bearded tip, moaning at the taste. The priest’s hand found her hair, guiding the slow bobbing motion of her head, groaning whenever she choked on his cock, too eager for her own good. Saliva dripped from her mouth, making a mess neither (y/n) nor Loki could care about.

Both knew that they were sinning, breaking a promise they have once sworn to live by, and yet sinning has never felt this good. Their bodies moulded together, perfectly complementing one another like lovers made to love, to support, to guide. An unbreakable bond started to form between these two beings who shouldn’t do the things lovers did in the dark.

“Fuck, feels like you’re holy, you’re too good for me, but I can’t get enough of you.” Loki’s words made her want to smile, struggling to move the corners of her mouth, stretched by his heavy girth. Whenever he twitched in her mouth, an unfamiliar spark was shot down her spine, making more arousal pool between thighs. Their eyes met as he jerked his hips, forcing her to claw her fingernails into his thighs, holding on as he abused her mouth.

Jesus had died for their sins, but not for sins this devilish, for acts so dark, for acts so wrong, for acts that made them both want to leave their belief behind, following the call of darkness.

“I want to fuck your mouth full of my cum, but for now I need to feel your cunt around me.” With a harsh tug (y/n) was turned around on her bed, face pressed against the covers that haven’t ever been blemished with what the priest was now doing to her. She trembled, needing to hold onto the soft fabric as her nervousness got the best of her.

This was new to her, completely new, but (y/n) trusted the man, laying her fate in his holy hands. She felt his fingertips graze the back of her thighs, pulling her soaked panties down her legs, letting the cold air lingering in her dark room clash against her dripping cunt.

“Deep breaths for me, love, I got you, let me take care of you.” A moan bubbled out of (y/n), eyes squeezed shut as she felt the tip of his cock brush through her folds, slowly spreading them. With one last shaky breath inhaled into her lungs, (y/n) forced herself to relax, allowing him to push into her cunt.!

For a few seconds neither of them dared to move, while (y/n) tried to swallow down the unfamiliar stretch, Loki had to force himself to calm down, not daring to hurt her with rough thrusts that would leave her crying and begging for him to stop. His fingers danced up and down her sides, stroking soft patterns into her skin till he felt her relax once again.

The priest started with slow thrusts, giving the both of them the chance to adjust, to get to know one another’s body. The cross dangling from his neck clashed against his front with every thrust, leaving God shaking up above, covering his eyes as one of his most trusted men went against his every law. But she was worth breaking them all, was worth the heaviest sin.

“Tell me, love, how does it feel? Talk to me.” She tilted her head to the side, warm cheek pressed against the covers to give herself enough space to speak up. Her voice trembled, just like her body, and yet her words dripped with lust, telling the priest everything he needed to know.

“So good, never stop touching me, please Loki.”

A sharp breath was inhaled into his lungs as he clicked his tongue, tightening his grip on her hips.

“That’s not how you shall address me, you know better, pet, don’t you?” His voice had an unfamiliar touch to it, leaving her heart racing and her cunt clenching around his cock. It took her a few moments to speak up, eyes squeezed shut to try and find the right words he asked her to speak.

“I’m sorry, father.” Her teeth were forced into her swollen lower lip, leaving marks he’d soon kiss with his tongue, swiping along the soft skin. A satisfied hum left him, grinning down on the woman he kept fucking with thrusts that kept growing rougher with every passing second. No longer was he holding back, no longer was he trying to be gentle with her, chasing his release.

Loki could tell that she was close, about to let go for the first time with a man around, for the first time with a cock buried inside her tightness. (Y/n) had to force herself to remain quiet, not daring to wake her parents, not daring to let them in on the secret that would lay heavy on their hearts.

„You can let go, give in, love.” With another moan leaving her, (y/n) gave in, eyes rolling back into her head, hands tightening their grip on the covers. He fucked her through her high, leaving marks on her as he kept holding on, pulling out of her to release himself on her behind and thighs.

“Here, let me clean you up.” Loki let go of her, moving slowly to reach for some tissues, gently cleaning her up. No words were spoken, guided by their tiredness. She turned towards the grinning priest, chuckling as his lips met hers in a soft kiss. With his hand cupping her cheek, he looked down on her for a few more seconds before he let go of her, “This has to be our sinful secret, I’ll expect you in the confessional tomorrow morning, love.”

#Loki smut #loki x reader #loki imagine #priest smut

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lale-txt · 2 years

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♡ taking care of them when they have a fever ➳ w/ Kid, Mihawk & Rayleigh

a/n: i… i fought Tumblr text editor so long and hard for this and it‘s still a mess oh my god. anyway enjoy those silly little headcanons, i love putting those lads into ✨situations✨

Kid

simply the worst patient you can ever imagine <3

when falling sick, he goes through the five stages of grief several times a day

denial: „i am not sick, what the fuck are you talking about“, he asks with a runny nose and face almost as bright red as his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples, barely able to stand up straight

Killer and you just exchange a look and brace yourself for what‘s coming next

anger: ever saw a tulip explode? now you will

don‘t mind the claw marks on the ground when Killer drags Kid by one leg to bed while the captain combusts and grunts out curses you‘ve never heard before

lots of shouting and yelling and middle fingers being raised with the last bit of energy he has left before you watch Killer pull out some wrestling moves to get the tulip into bed. it‘s like watching two grizzlies fight

feel free to join but be prepared to get bitten in the ass

bargaining: so Kid is in bed, blanket pulled up to his nose, breathing heavily

it‘s when it all sinks in. the realization that maybe he should have covered up those honkers when visiting that winter island. Kid was a South Blue child after all, not used to the cold

don‘t disturb him during that phase, just enjoy the silence while he ponders on every life choice he made that led him here

depression: that‘s when he will call you and the other crew members into his cabin one by one despite you telling him he‘ll just spread his germs that way, but Kid doesn‘t care. he feels like he‘s dying from that common cold and he needs to tell everyone his last words

don‘t flinch when he clutches his metal fist around your hand and rattles something about how he doesn‘t mind when you fall in love again after he dies, but preferably with Killer because then he‘ll know from heaven (or hell) that you‘re in good hands (followed by an hour long monologue on why Killer is the greatest man ever existing)

acceptance: so Kid realized he might not die today but his throat is still sore and all the yelling probably didn‘t make it any better

bring him some tea, tuck him in and kiss his forehead, he‘ll pass out in a minute and the whole thing will repeat a few more times on his way to recovery

Kid is gonna act like none of this has happened once he is back to his old self but he‘ll still make sure to pull you into a hug and mumble a Thank You against your skin, followed by making up for all the kisses he couldn‘t give you during that time

Mihawk

have you ever tried giving your pet any kind of medicine? it was bad, wasn‘t it? then good luck with this man because he is worse

it‘s hard to imagine that someone as perfect as Mihawk could fall sick with a fever, but here you are, standing with a glass of water and painkillers in your hands next to him while he‘s passed out on the couch

„get those away from me“, he mumbles like a dying peasant who is confronted with his own mortality in the face of a common cold

even with his strength being robbed he is still much stronger than you, using this fact to his advantage (by rolling over flat on his stomach, face down, so you can‘t hold the glass of water against his lips)

give him five minutes for some frustrated groaning until he admits his defeat and finally reaches for the things in your hands

brace yourself for a silent staring duel when he asks for a glass of red wine to wash down the painkillers

he‘s lucky that you‘re in love so madly and deeply with him and have all the patience in the world to bear with him, knowing well he would pamper you too if you ever fell sick (you remembered how he pulled out a whole first aid kit as if he was ready to perform emergency surgery when you cut your finger slightly once while cooking together)

Mihawk would hate the fact that you see him in such a weak state but deep down he is still happy to have you by his side during his darkest hours

he‘ll have a few fever dreams and will be startled, probably panting something about his crops and how he gotta look after them

just gently push him back down by his shoulders and calm him down by telling him that you watered the garden and that the tomatoes are looking plump and ripe and ready for harvesting once he‘s back to full health

he‘ll ask you to read him from his favorite romance novels before he drifts back to sleep

Mihawk will cook you the fanciest dinner to show you his gratitude for nursing him back to health, including the most expensive bottle of red wine and kitchen dances together

Rayleigh

„you‘re burning up, Ray.“

you look at him worried, hands on his cheek and forehead to feel his temperature

Rayleigh just sighs, pushes his glasses up his hair, pinches the bridge of his nose and accepts his defeat

the Dark King knows that there‘s a limit on how much you can push a sick body and that the only cure is rest

after all, he had watched Roger struggle during his illness when no one else was watching; it made him realize that every action has its toll and us humans are fragile little things

he will do his best to not make you worry, after everything he‘s been through at his age a simple cold won‘t take him out

sure, he will try to send you home so he doesn‘t pass on the fever to you, but you insist on staying by his side — after all it was „in sickness and in health“ what you vowed to

a fact that earns you a lot of forehead kisses and the inevitable fate that you‘ll be down with a fever as well a few days later (where Rayleigh will take care of you as well, of course)

he is an easy patient on his best behaviour, drinking up the tea you brewed for him and staying in bed with the newspaper and some card games (since he can‘t go gambling)

Rayleigh will hum and lean deep into your touch when you run him a bath and wash his hair, your fingers massaging every bit of tension out of him

knowing you can‘t resist his charm he‘ll ask you to join him in the bath tub. just do it. the old man is needy and a little cold won‘t stop him from using his hands to return a little favor…

Rayleigh is a restless man, never one for settling down completely or staying in one place for too long, but those days in bed together are surprisingly nice and help him to recover quickly, thanks to your committed care

countless kisses on your skin show you his gratitude and blur the line between heat and fever…

#eustass kid x reader #mihawk x reader #rayleigh x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #eustass kid #dracule mihawk #silvers rayleigh #dracule mihawk x reader #silvers rayleigh x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece reader insert

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the-kr8tor · 9 months

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What about a little Drabble with a reader that can sing? Nothing professional, just had a little training growing up and only does it for fun. Maybe hobie finds her singing and listens for a bit but as soon as he’s discovered she gets kinda embarrassed about it and stops. Or he’s playing music and she just starts singing along cause singing to a song is easier than by yourself, yknow? One of those two, whichever sounds more fun to you :D

Hi angel! Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️ there was supposed to be a snippet of lyrics here but I remembered copyright law lol.

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

No specific physical description of the reader.

No warnings just FLUFF 🥰

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Grabbing your walkman from the table then clipping it to your sweatpants, you slap the headphones over your ears, while arming yourself with the colorful feather duster–you press play.

The familiar guitar riffs booms loudly through your headphones, you really shouldn't listen to music this loudly; But to hell with it, you need the background music so you could focus on cleaning the flat.

Tapping your socked feet rhythmically on the wooden floor, you shake your hips slightly to the music, harmonizing with the singer, you're home alone, the usual bashfulness when you're singing is nonexistent.

Starting with the surface of the counter, you walk towards it with a pep in your step. You dust the wooden top in rhythm with the drum beats.

You mumble through the beginning of the song, waiting for the chorus, which is your favourite part because of its iconic lyrics.

You sing without a care in the world, while you use the feather duster as your mic. Continuing on dusting away when you don't remember the next lyrics.

Unbeknownst to you, Hobie stops himself mid-greeting once he sees you dance and sing along to the faint music coming from your mustard yellow headphones.

He chuckled to himself when he recognizes the lyrics you're belting out.

You hang around him too much, before you started dating this kind of music wouldn't be your cup of tea. But now? You're the one who's dragging him to every concert.

He watches you from your windowsill, one leg up on the metal hinges, nonchalantly perched on it. Hobie wishes he has a camera on him to record your little concert. Mentally memorizing the scene in front of him would do for now at least.

You try to match the cadence of the singer as you turn around, clutching the duster like a mic.

You screech when you see Hobie's familiar figure, dropping the rainbow duster "Hobie! How long have you been there?!"

Hobie opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Forgetting about your headphones still blaring music, still in shock with embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

Hobie stands up, motioning for you to take off the headphones.

You take it off your ears leaving it hanging over your neck, still hearing the muffled music through it, you definitely shouldn't have been listening to it this loud, or you would've heard Hobie coming in, saving yourself from embarrassment.

"Been here since the beginning" He smirks at you teasingly.

You cringe, face palming yourself "oh god!"

Hearing Hobie's footsteps you sneak a peek through your fingers. Instead of closing the gap, he shoots a practiced web on your waist. Pulling you towards him in one swift movement, you twirl around, feet sliding effortlessly until you're in his embrace.

You squeak out, grasping his strong arms to stabilize yourself, Hobie has the same idea, he holds the small of your back, lifting the hem of your shirt slighy, his thumb grazing the exposed skin.

"Got you" He gives you his signature smirk, turning your legs into jelly, good thing he's holding onto you.

You're amazed by how he can just take your breath away with minimal effort.

You hide your face in his leather vest, groaning in embarrassment.

"Didn't know there's a concert at your place, where's my ticket, hm?" He eggs you on, playfully shaking your form.

"Stooop" your muffled voice reverberates through the spandex of his suit. Hobie finds you adorable, he likes your singing voice, he'll tell you that later, but Hobie likes teasing you too much.

"Alright, alright I'll stop," Hobie says in between laughs.

You poke your head out from his vest, looking at him through your lashes with a pout.

"When I'm done" he finishes his sentence, grinning. "I didn't know they had a new band member, you got a double life too? Like Hannah Montana?"

"Augh, you're a menace!" You hide your face in his vest again, popping your head out quickly, you look at him suspiciously "wait, you know Hannah Montana?"

"Who?" Hobie feigns ignorance. He leans towards your face, cupping your chin, leading you in.

"You–" before you could get a sentence out, Hobie crashes his lips to yours, silencing any quips.

You can both still hear the music playing through your headphones, the singer chants out the last lyric of how much they can't keep their hands to themselves.

Hobie finds the lyrics appropriate as he kisses you deeply.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thanks for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #atsv x reader #fanfic #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you

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eddies-perm · 2 years

Text

𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

warnings. smut!!, some fluff, kinda cnc (consensual non-con), roleplay, bondage (handcuffs), dirty talk, some degradation, teasing/taunting in a playful way, fingering, P in V, unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n.

word count: 1.4k

** to celebrate Eddie’s graduation, you dress up like one of the ladies on the cover of ‘Heavy Metal’ magazine. **

You’ve spent months getting this costume together. MONTHS. You bought some pieces, you’ve had to make some pieces but finally the ensemble’s ready. Just in time for Eddie’s graduation.

He’s been looking forward to seeing the surprise you have in store for him. He hasn’t been able to loosen your lips at all about it, so it’s a total surprise for him. And he couldn’t be more excited.

Eddie lays back on his bed at the trailer, lighting up a cigarette while he waits for you to come out of the other room. You brought a duffle bag of stuff over and insisted on changing in Wayne’s room because apparently you need ‘space’ for this surprise outfit.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette and unfortunately, he does it at the same time you push the door open and step into his bedroom. He immediately chokes on the smoke in his lungs, cigarette nearly dropping right out from between his teeth when he looks at you.

You’re dressed exactly like the woman on the fall 1984 Heavy Metal magazine cover. One of his favorite covers. You smirk softly as he coughs, trying to re-compose himself.

“Jesus H. Christ -- fuck -- where’d you...how did you...?” he doesn’t even know what question to ask first, all the blood suddenly rushing from his head down to more important parts. “Oh my god baby, you look...”

“Just like your favorite Heavy Metal cover? Believe it, baby.” You walk up to his bed, still wearing a smirk.

He’s been stunned into silence. Eddie Munson is not a man easily rendered speechless, but you’ve certainly done it with this outfit.

“Fuck,” he breathes, quickly stubbing out his cigarette and lunging forward, pulling you flush against him. “Get the fuck over here before I jizz in my goddamn pants.”

You pull him down and press your lips firmly to his, giving his hair a firm tug. His hips buck forward instinctively and he groans into your mouth, hands traveling straight down to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze, then pushes you back suddenly, watching you gasp and fall back onto the bed with a small smirk.

“All the times I’ve fantasized about you, Princess,” he says, and you shudder. He’s talking about you as if you’re the character. He walks over to the wall, to the hook that’s holding his pair of cuffs. “I’ve imagined doing three things. Do you wanna guess what those three things are?”

As you go to answer him, he grabs the cuffs and walks back up to you slowly. You swallow. “Put me in handcuffs? Fuck me? And, I don’t know, fuck my face?”

“Mmm. Some good guesses.” He leans down and gives you a kiss. “Two out of three.”

Eddie lunges forward suddenly, climbing on top of you and pinning your hips between his knees. He grabs your wrists and quickly cuffs you to the headboard, then sits back, humming softly.

“Look at you, Princess, all cuffed up and at my mercy.”

“Let me go.” You tug at the cuffs half-heartedly, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Please, sir...”

“No,” he says. “You’re gonna lay here and you’re gonna take whatever I give you.”

A soft whine slips past your lips as you squirm under him.

“You...you cannot speak to me like that.”

He smirks, then grabs your jaw, giving it a firm squeeze. “I can do anything I want with you, Princess. You’re the one in handcuffs. Remember your place.”

You say nothing as he shakes your head a bit before letting go and dismounting in order to start undressing. He’s watched with hungry eyes as he does so. He grunts, desperately fighting with his jeans to get them open. “Fuck me...goddamnit, these stupid things...”

He yanks them down along with his boxers, then takes his hardened length into his hand, beginning to stroke himself while he lets himself fully take you in.

“You walk around in that s-slutty ensemble, teasing me, driving me fuckin’ nuts and you expect me not to do anything about it?” he growls, jaw tight. “You expect me not to have you like this?”

“I-I...”

Eddie climbs back onto the bed and hovers over you, hand dipping between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your hips jerk and you draw a sharp breath as his finger pads circle over your sensitive bud.

“Already so wet, huh?” He grins. “You want this, don’t you? God, you’re soaked...”

Your hips buck up softly, seeking more friction as you grow more sensitive. He hums, leaning down to kiss and suck gently on your breasts where they’re exposed in the deep v of your top.

While you’re focused on his mouth, two of his fingers suddenly slip through your hole and enter your waiting cunt. You gasp in surprise, back lifting up off the mattress.

“Eddie--”

“Master.” He says, curling his digits up in order to rub against the sensitive spot inside you. “It’s Master tonight, Princess.”

You shudder, nodding. “Yes, Master.”

Eddie groans under his breath. God, it’s even hotter than he imagined, having you call him that...

“Good girl.”

His fingers move in and out of your wetness quickly, not even giving you the chance to adjust to his thick digits. You’re a moaning, whiny mess within seconds, his fingers fucking you just the right way and at just the right angle.

“Mmm fuck, Master...” you moan softly. “Shit...”

His teeth sink into the skin of your breast just as his fingers curl up again, vigorously rubbing the spongey spot inside you. You groan, eyes rolling back in your head as your hips begin to jerk up.

Your orgasm comes rather quickly and just as you’re about to cum, he pulls away. You let out the most pathetic whimper at the loss, looking up at him while catching your breath.

“Why’d you--”

“If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on your Master’s cock,” he whispers in your ear, kissing that spot just behind it. “I just wanted to make sure you were ready to take me, Princess.”

You chew your lip, nodding. “Yes, Mas--oh!”

He suddenly fills you, hips thrusting his cock deep inside you. You moan loudly, fingernails digging into your palms, jaw slightly ajar. His hips begin to roll, quickly speeding up until he’s pounding you into the mattress.

“Fuck yes, love this little pussy, mmmm...”

His head tilts back for a moment, a guttural groan rumbling deep within his chest. One hand grabs and holds your hip, the other reaches up to wrap around your throat, squeezing gently.

“Tighten for me, really hold my cock, Princess...ahh, there we go. W-What a good girl.” He groans, letting out a shaky breath as he fucks you. “Mmm, so tight...”

You clench around him as tightly as you can, although you get tired rather quickly. You switch to more of a rhythmic pattern, on and off, on and off...

It’s driving him crazy, pushing him closer and closer to his climax. You’re also getting close after only a couple minutes, still super sensitive from his fingers. He seems to feel this, feels your walls spasming around him, and he fucks you even harder.

Eddie grabs your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulder, then leans down a bit, forcing your legs down against your torso. This position allows him to reach deep, deep inside you while also making things a little snugger for his throbbing shaft.

As soon as he starts tickling your clit with his well-groomed pubic hairs, you’re sent right over the edge. Your hips tweak erratically, eyes rolled back and jaw slacked.

“M-Master! Ohhh Master, ‘m coming!!”

His jaw clenches, trying to hold back his orgasm while fucking you through yours. He groans and growls lowly as he fucks you through your high, then his orgasm hits with a shattering intensity.

“Christ...!” he moans loudly, gasping with each sharp pump of his hips. “J-Jesus H. Christ, Princess...fuck...”

Feeling his warm cum paint your insides is a feeling you’ll never grow tired of. You sigh softly and let your body relax, arms a little numb from being forced over your head for such a long period of time. Your legs feel like Jell-o, trembling as Eddie pulls out slowly and kisses you while undoing your cuffs.

He presses his lips to each of your sore, tingly wrists. You reach up and run your hands through his sweaty hair, smiling up at him.

“Happy graduation, Eddie.”

~ masterlist ~

#eddies-perm #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fics #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

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ethanharmonia · 11 days

Text

The Hisui Trio in my AU!! :D

(they dont know how to dress up 😔)

I wanted to make reference sheets for the three, even though i took a ton of inspo from many things but its for investment i promise i promise

Those three are friends in this AU, they are all in the present world and they are like a family to each other tbh, they might get into a few arguments but they talk it out later on.

To be fair i think those three would give each other kisses, not in a romantic way though, its just more of a platonic thing i guess??

The three of them own dragon type pokemon, from gen 4, 6 and 8 (me like even numbers dont mind me), i kinda felt like these pokemon fit them best by personality (im not exactly sure for 100%)

Dropping the lore here :

The only way Adaman and Irida could go back and out of Hisui was by Volo taking them with him by going through portals with Giratina, of course the two of them got frightened at the sight of Giratina showing up right in front of their eyes for the first time but they got used to it later on.

As a gift of gratitude from Volo for still being accepted by Adaman and Irida even after everything he's done in the past, he made and gave a clone of Origin Dialga and Origin Palkia to them so that they could also travel through the portals or around the world without his help (he's getting tired from babysitting them pls let him live).

Adaman and Irida just live with Lucas, Dawn and Barry in Twinleaf Town, sometimes Volo comes by to visit them and hang out with them. Lucas and Dawn dont have memories of Rei and Akari, so they have no idea of what Volo used to be back then, if they would then oh boy they would try to kill him.

{With Dialga} Adaman possesses Steel type powers (or Metal Bending as they say), he uses it a lot for combat but also for reaching high places if he cant go up there or reach it by climbing, he bends the metal into a form of a long rope in order to get up there.

{With Palkia} Irida has Water type powers (or Water Bending), she is not really the type of a person to fight but she rather heals others, it also works on pokemon too, though sometimes she can kick ass once in a while if anyone drives her mad.

{With Giratina and Arceus} Volo has all the elements, including Dark type powers but he never uses those as he only sees the bad in them and never wishes to use them, reminding him a lot of Cyrus {bro hates him more than anything}, with Volo being an Archon, he can summon pretty much every pokemon, including the legendaries and mythical ones, and the ultra beasts, even though the legendaries are gods too and are feared by many, Volo however just sees them as misunderstood creatures/beings, as he has a better bond with them than with his own people.

Volo despises humans, he only sees the bad in them as he has only seen the bad things that humans did, and with Volo being isolated in Arceus's realm and being there for about 280 years (met Arceus at 20), he cant really change his opinion about it, even if he has friends that are different than the rest of the humans, Volo still has doubts that humans are good, unless proven to him. Sure, Volo is the archon and savior of this world and he is trying his best to make the world a better with no wars or catastrophies, he hates humans, but he just wants peace, but he is aware that even if this happens one day then the peace wont last forever, the world cant remain peaceful for eternity, theres always going to be something happening all the time and he will have to deal with it on his own.

This would be Volo and his Dragapult (canon)

Imagine praying to god, and this is who you're praying to

#pokemon au #pokemon #pla volo #pla adaman #pla irida #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends volo #wielder volo #pokemon wielder volo #pokemon volo #pokemon irida #pokemon adaman #clan leader irida #clan leader adaman #irida #adaman #volo #here uhh lore uhh yes have it here #if anyone understands what im saying here then you are officially my child #doing allat at 2 am my god #ah yes did you know that Volo is a god in this au. na wait. an ARCHON?? LMAO #na cuz i feel like he deserved it fr #adaman and irida are like his family rn #had some weird scenarios about adaman and volo kissing while irida watches them with a confused look like “bro not this again”#they definetly are the best trio in my opinion idgaf #they would kick ass tbh #also i took some reference from arcane cuz why not hahahahaha (i didnt mention it in the lore)#i made it that cyrus is darkness and volo is light aint no way this turning into mlp LMAO #i think im high af when im writing all that rn #cyrus is dead btw

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whumpasaurus101 · 1 month

Text

Chapter Ten

Ohhhh the whump in this- there is quite a lot teehee. Enjoy me rising from my hybernation of 2 months!

---

The chair let out a quiet groan as Cass readjusted himself in his seat, eyes staring plainly at the table which Martyn sat opposite him. They had stayed like this for a while. Not a single sound. Cass wasn't going to give Martyn shit. He tried to keep his mind quiet. Keeping himself away from the situation away from his head. His team was going to look at him for what they should do next. But he didn't know. What they could do.

His eyes desperately scanned the room, searching for something- anything he could use as a weapon. Oh, who was he kidding?? They were doomed.

“So, tell me, Cass, why did you lot decide to come in and ruin my soiree?”

Cass clenched his jaw, his eyes still moving. He looked to the guard who stood at the door, rifle in hand held across his chest. Maybe if he caused a distraction he could snatch it and-

Cass yelped out as Martyn slammed his fist against the metal table, the loud sound echoing through the room, cutting crisp through his thoughts, “I asked a goddamn question. All your team has given me silence and I’m really getting tired of this, sweetheart.”

Cass grimaced at the name, shifting once more in his chair as he cautiously studied the man before him. The top half of hair that wasn’t buzzed was swept up neatly into a ponytail.

“Do you use gel in your hair?”

Martyn had to do a double take, his face slightly screwed up in confusion, “I beg your pardon?”

“Your hair, does it have gel in it?”

“My- I- you what?”

“You said all you was getting was silence, I’m filling that silence.”

Martyn huffed out a sigh of disapproval, “It’s ‘were’, darling, ‘all you were getting’.”

Cass couldn't help but crack a smile, letting out a slight laugh, “I’m tied down to a fucking chair in a goddamn interrogation, I think my grammar is the last of my worries.”

Martyn held back a smile, readjusting his tie as he cleared his throat, “I like my things to be perfect-”

“Yeah yeah, hold up, I am not one of your.. things..” Cass spat in disgust. Martyn hummed in amusement, “Cute of you to think you can make decisions now. I’ve got you, Cass Brady.”

Cass tensed, “H-how- I-”

“I have my sources,” Martyn grinned, crossing his arms with a smirk, “Luckily, before you tried your pathetic attempt to save dear Niko, you gave my men and I just about enough time to go do some… research.”

Cass could feel his stomach drop to the ground. What the hell happened? All the years it had taken Cass to remove everyone's identity from any records so they were untraceable. Welp, apparently not.

“The Outlanders,” Martyn hummed, “A bit… whats the word…. Cliche, no?”

Cass set his jaw, glaring at the captor before him, “I was fifteen when I came up with it.”

“No need to get so defensive!” Martyn smirked, “It's quite cute actually.”

Cass’ fists clenched behind his chair, knotted in a rough rope as he felt anger bubble and burn in his chest, “What do you want?” He demanded.

“I want answers, Cass.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Cass spat, his eyes hardening, “I'm not telling you shit.”

Martyn folded his arms with a hum as he leaned back in his chair, “Oh really? Well, Mr Brady, I have something that just might change your mind.”

Cass’ blood turned cold as he saw the scene unravel before him. The door of the room opened and in walked a guard, dragging in a bloodied and bruised figure. Cass had to swallow down his own bile as he saw the face of the person, Cass.

“You see, in my research, I thought my men had made a mistake mistake with the matching last names- but as we dug deeper I knew a little,,, persuasion from your brother might do the trick!”

“D-d’nt te-tell hi-” Niko rasped, a mixture of blood and sweat dripping from his hair as his head hung low. He didn't have enough energy to lift it. God, if he had learnt one thing, it was that those guards were not as weak as they may seem.

“Let him go!” Casss roared, suddenly thrashing against the restraints.

“There we go, a bit of fire! Now, do tell me, why did you come uninvited to my party?”

“We-we honestly were just plus ones who-”

Cass was cut off by the gut wrenching sound of a fist colliding with skin. He watched in horror as his own brother collapsed to the ground with a cry.

Anger took over Cass, “Let him go.” His voice slightly shook but he didn't give a damn, he blinked furiously as he tried to hold back tears.

You know what you need to do in order to save him.”

“Bullshit!” Cass growled but that only drew another punch towards Niko. “I’m going to murder you, you son of a bitch!” Cass roared.

Martyn stalked closer in a few strides, snatching Cass by the jaw and yanking him so they were face to face, “Listen here you bitch-lipped son of a whore-” Cass flinched, his heart freezing in utter shock as he stared at Martyn- “Every single word that comes out of your mouth that isn't what I want, gets your brother one step further to his own fucking death.”

Cass stared up at Martyn in horror, his mouth slightly opened as his chest heaved with pants. What kind of leader was he- yelling and cursing? The first thing he told his gang was to never make things personal and always remain calm. God- god his brother, he had brought Niko into this goddamn life.

“I-”

Cass took a sharp inhale before letting the breath out, he watched as Martyn lifted a hand, getting the guard to halt.

“There was… a target at your party… a target that we- well… we’ve been looking for for a while now…” Martyn’s eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms, “And this…target, it doesn't happen to be me, no?”

Cass’s eyes blow wide, “No! No not at all! I don't even know who you are!”

A shiver ran up his spine as the room filled with Martyn’s chuckle filled the room- then it dropped to utter silence and his smile fell. In a matter of seconds a hand wrapped around his throat.

“Let me get something clear, Cassius, I really don't like liars. So if someone lies to my face-” His hand tightened and Cass swore he saw stars- “Somebody gets hurt.”

Cass tried to scream as he heard the cry of his brother. Martyn forced his head to look at his brother being beaten relentlessly. But he couldn't make a noise, he couldn't move, He couldn't save his brother. So what use was he to his own team? ---

Taglist: @blood-enthusiast @deckofaces @sleepy-dog-boy @whumpatize-me-captain @a-n-j-a-maria @sparrowsage @theelvishcowgirl @sorry-i-spaced @juniperspring @cherrychupachup @morning-star-whump @thelazywitchphotographer @kixngiggles @auroragehenna @fraugustends @jupiter-lemaris @wishiwaskidnapped @books-are-everything @unforgivenn @bloodyandfrightened @dutifullykrispyland @whumpwhittler @plantixst @whump-queen @aryox

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#niko #martyn #cass #team whump #interrogation #multiple whumpers #whump #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #intimate whumper #whump series #lee wrote something :o

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Note

One saves the other bingo prompt for Bucky

It’s just a little snippet, but it felt good that way :)

One Saves the Other (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

Grumpy!BuckyBarnes x Sunshine!Female!Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, confusion, self-sabotage, but a little fluffy too

Bucky liked it better when he was the guy everyone avoided. When everyone was still changing sides of the street as soon as they saw him. When they hated his guts and left him to be his lonely, sorrowful self in peace. When they saw him as the villain - at least villains were left alone. Now? Not anymore.

He’s had a dream about it once. It was a nightmare. One where everyone was talking his ear off day and night, swooning about what a great hero he was. But Bucky didn’t believe it. Just like he never believed in monsters or ghosts, he never thought dreams would come true. Not even the bad ones.

Note to self: being a good person is fucking exhausting. That would be pinned to his bathroom mirror from now on, so he could remind himself to never do something as stupid as today ever again.

But it had happened so quickly, Bucky didn’t even have time to think about it. He saw a woman step into the street and the next second that SUV came speeding down main. He had pushed you away and stopped the damn car with his metal arm - hopefully giving the driver a concussion with the force that idiot hit the steering wheel.

But the actual worst part had just begun. At least Bucky had a hunch it was just the beginning because you were sitting across from him and just didn’t. stop. talking.

“The people were cheering, have you noticed that? Oh my god. You were probably all up in the hero zone, weren’t you? That is so cool!”

His eyes met the ceiling when he rolled his head back on the plush armchair of the café you had dragged him into, insisting, begging, him to let you invite him. The coffee was good but, hell, you were annoying. If only he had let you cross that stupid street. The shameful thought crossed his mind as soon as the following scolding - he wasn’t that evil. He just wanted to be left alone, for god’s sake.

“I can’t believe I’m having coffee with a real Avenger!” He looked at you. Bucky wasn’t an Avenger. But something about the idea made his body feel tingly. What the hell?

“Stop.” Your y/e/c eyes stared up at him, not frightful, attentively.

“Am I annoying you? Oh no, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

Bucky just smiled awkwardly. He wasn’t used to this much attention. And he couldn’t possibly fathom why you would want to spend this much time with him. He just pushed you off the road. Everyone would have done so. He just happened to be the fastest. “What I did... what just happened - everyone would have...”

“But they didn’t,” you stated plainly, “you’re my hero.” But there was meaning behind your words. Bucky just couldn’t place it. It stirred something within him. A tingle, a weird feeling in his stomach that made him lightheaded.

“But I’m not.” Special. He looked at the ground, his hands wringing in his lap. Why didn’t you realize it? He was a bad guy. A horrible, horrible person.

You just looked at him with those eyes. He’d seen them once before today. Right after he had stopped the car in the street - admirable, fathoming. But why?

Bucky felt your stare burning his skin, panic and confusion mixing in one over the reason you thought he was anything but the threat Hydra had made him - and how familiar it felt. “I gotta go,” he pressed between his teeth before standing up from the table.

“Wait!” Your hand shot out to hold him back by his arm - his metal arm. “Do you really think that?” Ant that’s when Bucky realized where he had seen the look before. Steve had done the same thing when they met after 70 years of war. That hopefulness mixed with sorrow, empathetic but not pitying. It brought a sense of liking to him, but Bucky didn’t want it. He didn’t want anyone else in his life he could potentially harm. Because that was what he always did - destroy, hurt, shatter.

He couldn’t do it - not today. “Goodbye,” he mumbled and then he broke free from your grasp and left.

-❁-

Now he was in trouble. Bucky had spent all day thinking about you - the mysterious woman that reminded him so much of the person he cherished the most. But you weren’t Steve. You were a stranger. A random person that, for some reason, had his thoughts twisted in one direction straight.

He thought about the way you dragged him into that cafe so shamelessly. The way you showed zero signs of fear around him. The way you talked to him and how you didn't back down even when he shot you down over and over again.

And even though a feeling of utter confusion swept his body the whole time, a little drop of something else mixed with the sensation, sedating him with an urge to just find you again, ask you about it and have his mind be quiet again. Well, as quiet as it would get. At least free from these strange thoughts.

Before Bucky knew it, he had put on his leather jacket and let his apartment door fall shut with moderate force. His muddy boots were shaking the stairs on his way down to the entryway, and soon, he found himself on the same street he had saved you in just days ago.

The sound of traffic still ringing in his ears, he stepped inside and ordered himself a coffee at the counter. The Bucky turned nervously, leaving against the bar top and scanning the room. He hoped to look casual, but his heart was doing weird things as he hoped to find you amongst the people sitting at the table in the cozy cafe.

And, sure enough, there you were, sitting by the window and reading a book. Your knee tucked under your chin and a hot cup of tea steaming on the table in front of you. Bucky couldn't stop looking. His eyes were glued to you. He traced your frame with his eyes, memorized the way your fingers curled around your book, and didn’t even notice how the waitress put his paper cup down behind him. And when he pushed his elbow back, it toppled over. The barista yelped, and your head shot up immediately, eyes inevitably meeting his.

He smiled, and you waved and as Bucky was still processing the little interaction, you had approached him by the counter.

“So I didn't totally scare you off. That’s good to know.” The barista was still cursing behind him, but a look from you calmed her down. It was magical.

Bucky just watched as you ordered him another coffee, almost in awe by the casual movements you made around him as if he wasn’t him.

“Why aren’t you scared?” Bucky asked genuinely, a small shiver of nervousness rushing over his skin at all the answers you could give him. He watched as your hand carefully laid on top of his vibranium one on the bar top. Then you looked at him insistently with a faint smile on your lips.

“I believe people are not what others say they are. They’re defined by their actions. And you... well, you saved my life.”

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elsfairy · 11 months

Text

✧ ˚ ﹙ bartender!sevika kinks﹚ ⅄

﹙★﹚Bondage: i don’t make the rules. Sevika is tying you up when you take her strap. whether it be your hands tied to the headboard, or having your arms tied behind your back when you ride her. she loves to watch you squirm in her lap, babbling and whimpering random words, begging & pleading for her to give you more. her hands tightly perched on your hips, metal fingers digging into your soft skin, trying to keep you still so you can feel just how deep she is. the only rule? you can’t touch. “Shh, there you go Sweetheart. doing so good, my good girl”

﹙★﹚Blindfold: Sevika knows how much you love watching her go down on you. the way her grey eyes sparkle up at you, that subtle smirk across her lips but oh, she just loves teasing you so what’s better than having you blindfolded? not being able to see your favorite sight? not being able to see the way she licks her lips, biting down on the soft, plump flesh when she catches you watching her? and not even being able to see the way your slick and her spit drip her chin? poor baby, she’s tormenting you. “Aw, look at you. whining because you can’t see me, patience Sweet”

﹙★﹚Breeding: it’s always her fantasy. especially when she’s got your face pushed against all the pillows, her hands gripping your hips, and her eyes are so fixated on the way your cunt takes her strap so greedily. god the obscene, absurd, thoughts that swim through her mind at every moan, whine and whimper that slips past your pretty lips. she’s borderline animalistic at all the things she wants to do to you, to the sounds she wants to hear you make. “God look at you, taking my strap so good, fuck.. gonna fuck a baby into you, gonna let me baby? yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you, Sweetheart?”

﹙★﹚Choking: riding her? she’s got her metal hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to tear those pretty sounds from you as you bounce on her strap. on all fours? don’t worry, she’s still going to have her hand around your throat, pulling you against her chest, fucking you harder. her ultimate favorite though? is when you’re laying on your back, gripping at the wrist she has around your throat, nails clawing at her skin, eyes rolling back and her pace is so fast, rough, and yet so gentle. she loves how her marks litter your pretty skin, and it’s a daily reminder you are hers. “Look so fuckin’ pretty with my marks on you. gotta show everyone you’re not theirs to touch. you’re all mine. only I can touch and fuck you like this”

﹙★﹚Wax play: This is self-explanatory but she loves to pour it on your tits, especially if they are more sensitive than other times. she gets off on the small little whimpers you let out, the pleads for her to do something, or when you ask for more. loves to watch the way your chest heaves. how your hand grips the wrist she’s got between your legs she’s sadistic yes, but she wouldn’t do anything to put you in harm’s way. if you want to stop, she will. you’re still her Sweetheart, and your safety comes before anything. “Doing so well, i promise Sweet. my pretty little thing”

﹙★﹚Exhibitionism: she’s risky, she literally takes life by the balls and goes with it. Sevika loves to touch you, she doesn’t care where she is, or what you’re both doing. if she needs you, she will find a way around it and have you. if she’s working behind the bar, and notices you walking around all pouty then she’s going to whisk you away. her favorite place right now is the storage room, having you on the old wooden desk, one of her hands wrapped around your throat, and 2 fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. very aware anyone could walk in and see you all fucked out on her fingers. she gets off on it, she loves the thrill of someone catching you both doing something so dirty. doesn’t even bother trying to hide all the sounds you’re making, be as loud as you want, she fuckin loves it. “you’re so dirty, letting me have my way with you when you know anyone could come in here and find us like this. so dumb and fucked out just from my fingers”

﹙★﹚Praise: baby loves when you praise her. she loves to hear how good she’s making you feel. if she’s fucking you with her strap, she keens when you tell her how good she is, how full she’s making you feel. will become a literal flustered mess at the way you whisper into her ear, all breathless and whiny when calling her your good girl. all she wants to do is please you and take care of you. if she’s fucking you with her fingers, she’s damn near drooling at the sight of you, barely able to talk other than repeating 'so good' and 'like that baby, doing so well'

﹙★﹚Edging: when you’re in bed with her, you’re not gonna cum for a while. she knows your body better than anyone, even you. she knows exactly when you need to cum, yet she’s a little deviant and won't let you. Sevika can spend hours between your legs, fucking you slowly with her fingers until you’re clutching at her hair, and legs shaking over her shoulders. it’s when she smirks that you know she’s gonna stop, leaving you there to whine and complain you need to cum, baby just loves playing with you so much. loves to see how long you can go, and how long you can hold off for. “don’t be a brat, let me play with you, Sweetheart. haven’t seen you all day. missed you”

﹙★﹚Katoptronophilia: mirrors! she’s fucking you against the dresser, metal fingers gripping your jaw, forcing you to watch your reflection. loves to see you watch the way her hand grips your hip tightly, how your makeup is all smudged, your mascara is streaking down your face and your spit running down your chin. your lips all red and puffy from the shared kisses between the both of you. it’s another sight she gets off to. just seeing you so breathless, hands gripping onto any part of her you can, trying to steady yourself because of her rough, hard pace. “Look. Look at how fuckin desperate you are, Sweetness. So desperate and so greedy for me”

#sevika #arcane sevika #sevika imagine #sevika x you #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika smut #arcane #arcane smut #bartender!sevika

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niallsgoldhoop · 1 month

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despise

a niall horan one shot - the show famous niall almost three thousand words cw - sexual acts, sexual language, name calling, foul language, 18+

“So what’d you do to piss her off this time?”

Standing next to the small set of metal stairs, I can’t help but smile as I look to my left. “Oh you know— Decided to wear this and that instead of what I was scheduled to wear.”

“It’s no wonder she can’t stand you.” Shaking his head, he chuckles. “See you out there, mate.”

Without another word, I watch as he makes his way up the small stairs and gets settled in place, the rest of my band doing the same as we get prepared to give the crowd a show to remember.

Looking down at my shoes, I can’t help but let out a small laugh.

What I was supposed to wear and what I decided to wear are two different things.

It’s like if I listen closely I can already hear Reed Foster cursing under her breath, my name falling from those raspberry lips about how much she can’t stand me.

Ever since I met her there has been that electric buzz of tension between the two of us. To this day I’m still not sure what makes her despise me like she does, but I don’t really care. However that doesn’t mean I don’t try and mess with her any chance that I get.

Irritating her is like a game— One that I always win.

As I listen to the crowd on the other side of the curtain and the music starts to play, my feet carry me up the stairs and my hands pull the old and weathered cream colored guitar over my head before checking to make sure my earpieces are fitting correctly.

Taking my place, a flash of movement draws my attention to the side of the stage that I just came from, stealing my attention away for just a second.

“You are the absolute worst, Horan.”

Crossing her arms over her supple chest, Reed stares me down like she wants to murder me. Just the fire in her eyes sends heat flooding through my body.

She may hate me, but I can feel the heat in her gaze when she thinks that I don’t notice.

Just like she doesn’t know that it’s her face I see when I’m alone and need a release.

A secret for a secret, you could say.

For weeks I’ve been getting under her skin and just waiting for the moment it boils over— waiting for what it brings out of her.

Waiting for her to play.

So with a mischievous grin, I look over to her and wink, gaining an eye roll in the process. “Right back at ya, Foster.”

Even under the dim lighting I can see the way she rolls her eyes before turning on her heel, middle finger up in the air.

Fuck, I love a challenge.

Always have— always will.

—— Reed ——

Niall Horan was a pain in my ass.

I swear to god there wasn’t one day where he didn’t do something to piss me off.

From switching the stage outfits to hiding my things, it was a miracle that I hadn’t quit or punched him in that smug ass smile that was always there when I was around.

It didn’t matter that his blue eyes were the color of a perfect sky or that he always smelled like the most expensive, delicious cologne.

Niall was frustratingly handsome.

I knew he was attractive and it didn’t matter that I thought of him when I— No, fuck him.

“Do we have to go back?” The words fall off my tongue as I look across the table. “Because I’m fine with staying here.”

“We could stay if we wanted to get fired.” Laughing, my coworker turned best friend pulls cash out of her wallet.

Groaning, I pay for my tab and stand up to follow her out of the pub. “Maybe I want to get fired.”

“Please, don’t lie to me.” She grins over her shoulder as we climb into the back of the car waiting for us. “We both know you love your job.”

“Love the job, can’t stand the employer.” I manage to mumble under my breath as the car pulls away from the curb.

We left after the first couple songs of the show started, both of us knowing exactly how long we had to go get something to eat or a drink before we had to be back at the arena in time to have everything packed up and ready when it was over.

In the time we’ve been doing that— not once have we been late, but seeing how slow the traffic is moving, it looks like today could be our lucky day.

“I’m so sorry about that, ladies!” Our driver gives us a tight smile. “Normally it’s not so bad around here.”

Waving my hand in front of my face as we walk backwards, I plaster on a fake smile as I dig through my bad for my credentials. “Don’t worry about it!”

The two of us finally make it inside before going our separate ways, leaving me to gather up the last of the things that are in Niall’s dressing room, hoping that I can finish before he gets off stage. From the sound of it, I’m not going to make it considering that the unmistakable first few notes of Slow Hands reverberate through the building.

“Goddamn it.” I mumble. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Working as fast as I can, dread pools in my belly knowing that everything won’t be finished by the time the show is over.

By the time Niall makes it back to this room.

With my back to the door and shoving things into the cases they belong in, the sound of the door opening doesn’t even register to me in my rush.

But the sound of a rough, low voice paired with an Irish accent does.

——Niall——

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Whirling around, Reed drops everything in her hands as I lean against the doorframe, the post-show adrenaline pumping the blood through my veins.

“Fuck you.” The words fall from her pouty lips. “I was just leaving.”

“Looks to me like you weren’t even close to leaving.” Stepping up to her, it’s impossible not to notice the way her eyes fall to my lips before they roam over my body. “See something you like, Reed?”

Snapping her gaze back to mine, those pretty eyes narrow. “Not a damn thing.”

“That doesn’t seem like the way you should talk to your boss, does it?” Pressing even closer to her, my tongue rolls across the inside of my cheek. “Besides— I think you’re lying.”

Once again, her eyes fall from mine and grace the edges of the cream colored top that I chose tonight, one that leaves my arms bare.

“You think you’re so full of yourself.” Her tone is venomous but her pupils dilate all the same. “I’m just packing up—“

Reaching behind her, I grab a handful of things from the suitcase and let them clatter to the floor, raising a brow at her. “Seems to me like you just wanted to spend some time with me.”

“Oh yeah? Who told you that?” She scoffs.

I love this game, the back and forth.

Reed is all bark and no bite… Although I don’t mind it a little rough from time to time.

Her pulse jumps under the smooth skin of her neck as a low laugh falls from my lips. “Nobody had to tell me, I could see it right here.” The tip of my finger brushes across her pulse, the wild rhythm beating under the callous that lies there. “Want to lie to me again, hm?”

“Can’t seem to recall a single day that I was excited to see you.” She laughs, letting her finger draw a gentle path down the inside of my arm. “Must suck for you, doesn’t it?”

We’ve drifted even closer to each other over our verbal sparring, leaving us only a couple inches apart, her lips inviting me in.

“What are you gonna do?” Taking the chance, I nip her bottom lip, the whimper from the back of her throat traveling straight to my groin. “Be a brat? Be a good girl?”

She doesn’t even give me an answer before the tension bursts between us, her lips finding mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle. I can't help but groan at the minty taste of her or the way her small hands fist the front of the silky sleeveless shirt I wear.

“Fuck.” My words are short as she pulls in my bottom lip with her teeth. “Always knew you were full of fire.”

My lips fall from hers, traveling across her jaw and down to the hollow at the base of her throat, a moan coming from her lips when I harshly suck the skin into my mouth to mark her.

“Niall—“

“Yeah?” I nip her earlobe. “Keep saying my name— I like the way it sounds.”

Gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, a groan sounds from deep in my chest as she stands in front of me in the laciest thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’ve been hiding all of this from me?” I say, my fingertips toying with her pebbled nipples through the fabric. “Pretending you hate me?”

Glassy eyes find mine as Reed tries to catch her breath. “I do hate you—“

“Liar.” Bringing my hand up to her throat, I let it rest against her skin for just a moment before she gives me a subtle nod, only then letting my fingers press gently into the sides. “I guess if you hate me so much you don’t want any of this, do you?”

Silence settles between us, her swallow thick under my palm.

“Get to work, Reed.” I let go of her. “Take this belt off.”

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers fall to the belt around my waist, the sound of the metal barely heard over our heavy breathes.

“When you get this belt off, I want you to get on your fucking knees, yeah?” Using my finger, I lift her chin so that she meets my gaze. “Did you hear me?”

Reed nods. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Fire races through my blood.

“Yes, sir.” She says like the good girl she is.

As my pants fall to the ground, I reach behind my and pull my top off and throw it somewhere behind me, too worked up by the sight of the woman on her knees before me.

“Tell me, Reed—“ Brushing my thumb across her bottom lip, I push it inside her mouth and groan at the feel of her warm, wet mouth. “Are you gonna suck me off like the slut you are? Gonna be good for me?”

With a nod, she swirls her tongue around the tip of my finger.

“Good. Take off the rest of my clothes.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, she reaches up and tucks her fingers into the waistband of the black briefs doing nothing to conceal how fucking desperate I am to be in her mouth. My cock juts towards my stomach as I step out of the fabric, wrapping my fingers around the silky skin. The pearly drop at my tip shines under the lights of the dressing room as I watch Reed take in the sight before her. From here, I can see her legs shift as if she’s trying to get her own relief from the tension between us.

“Is this what you want?” Leaning forward, I spread the drop across her bottom lip. “Tell me.”

“Yes, yes… I want it, Niall.” Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me.

I smirk down at her. “Beg for it, slut.”

“I—“ Reed takes a deep breath. “Please fuck my mouth, please. I want to feel you down my throat.”

“Are you going to keep acting like you hate me? Like you haven’t wanted me down that pretty little throat for weeks?” Raspy and low, my voice sounds like it’s been drug through gravel. “Keep going, let me hear you praise me, Reed”

Her chest expands with a deep breath before her tongue darts out to taste the moisture left there, those pretty eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t— Please. I think about you when my hand is between my legs— Niall—“

“Open your fucking mouth.” Impatience travels through my body. “Take this and shut the fuck up.”

Those lips open and I don’t waste any time pressing my hips forward, watching as she takes my cock into her mouth like that’s all she’s ever wanted. Immediately she brings her hand up to mine, moving it out of the way so that she can circle her dainty fingers around me.

“There you go—“ Fisting her hair, the strands are soft and silky against my skin. “Letting me use you like a pathetic slut to get off.”

Reed moans around me at my words, the reverberation sending a chill up my spine. The combination of her lips wrapping around me and her hand feels euphoric.

“Niall—“ Pulling back, Reed drags her tongue along the vein that maps out the underside of my length. “I want more—“

“You want me to fuck you?” I ask in a low laugh, watching her nod as she circles her tongue around the tip of my cock. “Only good girls get fucked, Reed. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“Please—“

Gripping her hair even tighter, I shake my head. “Shut up and open that pretty little throat.”

Surprisingly, she does what I say.

This time I can tell she’s waiting for me to take control… So I do.

Thrusting my hips forward, a string of curses fall from my lips as I feel myself hit the back of her throat over and over, the pleasure so intense that I can feel it traveling up my spine at a rapid pace.

Looking down, Reed’s dark lashes are clumped together from her tears, the pressure of feeling me so deep causing her to gag and contract around me as I push even deeper.

“Fuck— Just like that—“ I tilt my head back. “Keep choking on my cock like that.”

Pressing forward, I let my hips rest for a couple of seconds, feeling her throat grip me again before pulling out enough so that she can catch her breath.

“You okay?” Checking in with her, she nods before reaching for me again. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Who knew all it would take to shut you up would be to stuff your mouth with my cock?”

Moaning around me, watch as she slips her hand under the hem of the black leather skirt, another whimper coming from the back of her throat as her eyes meet mine.

“There you go, get yourself off while I fuck your mouth.” Sweat drips down my skin. “Shit— Good girl, Reed— You feel so good.”

Tears fall down her face as she moans around me, her hand moving as she brings herself to her own peak, making me realize that Reed Foster might be one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen.

Maybe I’ve just been blind by wanting to get on her nerves, but now seeing all the valleys and curves of her body displayed in front of me it makes me feel like maybe I need more.

“Fuck, Reed—“ I groan, the words like gravel. “I’m so close. Are you going to take what I give you? Swallow everything?”

As soon as she nods, the balloon at the base of my spine pops into a sea of euphoria as I empty myself down her throat, feeling like it might never stop.

“Good god.” Pulling my hips back, I run my hand through my hair. “That was—“

Meeting my gaze, Reed uses her thumb to catch a drop of my release that spilled out of her mouth, flattening her tongue to taste the last bit that she can. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Come here.” Bending down, I slide my hands under her arms to pull her up to stand. “You did so good.”

A soft smile pulls across her face, the lights of the dressing room playing off the sheen of sweat on her body. “Thank you.”

Looking behind me, I see the door that leads to the personal shower and before I can stop myself or overthink, I tug her hand and pull me with her.

She may have hated me before, but she won’t hate me after I give her what she just gave me.

On a night like tonight, everything changes.

Starting now.

________

this was my first requested one shot so DONT HATE ME if it’s bad alsndkwksn

ily

-a🍀💖

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octuscle · 8 months

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What the fuck?! I've just arrived for this academic conference in Amsterdam and when I went to unpack, my clothes and notes were gone! Instead my suitcase is filled with thongs and jockstraps and.. are those dildos? Who's fucking with me?

Well, to be quite precise: No, these are not only dildos. They are also butt plugs. Do you find just as disgusting? Then just put the case in the corner.

Damn, you just can't get this plug out of your head… When you fall asleep, you swear you hear a voice telling you that you should try the butt plug. Since your mother gave you a fever suppository as a child, no one has inserted anything into your ass. But somehow you know exactly what to do. You take a handful of Crisco, rub the plug in, fix it on the coffee table of your hotel room, relax your ass and slowly insert the plug. Fuck! Your cock reacts immediately. And so does your brain. What a horny combination of pleasure and pain. Yes, something like that belongs in your ass. Damn it! You pump air into the plug. Oh my God! The feeling drives you crazy. You can't get enough. And you start pumping with one hand and jerking off with the other. Until you cum a load like you have cum before. Fuck, what a mess in the hotel room. But what an orgasm!

The night is full of wild dreams. Full of wet wild dreams. You would love to go straight on with another sex toy. But you have a message on your cell phone. You should wear the latex shorts with the integrated dildo at the conference today. And after the conference you are supposed to work out with it in the gym. As if in a trance, you shower, oil yourself and put on the shorts. And over it you wear a shirt and a suit. Fuck! Your boner doesn't come to rest at all. And you get another message: "Good Boi".

The conference is really exhausting. With the dildo in your ass you can hardly concentrate. You are only thankful that you are wearing the latex shorts. You produce precum by the ounce. When you have to go to the toilet, you always use a stall. You are uncomfortable showing your ass in latex. At noon you get a message. "Sluts show their dick while pissing". Okay. So next time you stand at the urinal. You can't help it, you have to jerk off when you are done pissing. The looks you reap fluctuate between disgust, alienation and lechery.

You skip the champagne reception at the end of the congress day. Your task was to work out today. So you go straight back to the hotel. And you wonder what to wear to the training. Your suitcase still hasn't shown up. But the question is unnecessary. On your bed are shorts, tank top, socks and training shoes. The tank top has "Gym Slut" printed on it. And on your desk is a whole battery of bottles with protein drinks. Next to it is a weird metal thing… You get a new message. Every two hours you should drink a bottle of protein drinks. And wear the cock cage for training. You drink the first bottle and look at the device. Somehow you get it on. It looks way too big for your dick. But you immediately get a hard-on. A huge hard-on. You fill the cage painfully almost to bursting. Fuck, how you would love to jerk off now. "Training. Right now. At least three hours" says a new message. You get dressed, take two bottles and go to the hotel gym.

The cock cage makes it look like you have a constant hard-on anyway. In fact, you have a hard-on almost all the time. Nevertheless, you give everything during his workout. At 23:00 the gym closes. You Pose in front of the mirror. Damn, you are a beast! You're about to take a shower when your cell phone rings. No shower. No shave. No deodorant. Until further notice!

In your hotel room you drink another protein shake. You notice that your suit, your shirt, your shoes, everything you wore to the conference today is gone. The key to your cock cage is also gone. Instead, a pair of leather jeans hangs in the closet. A pair of long shiny track pants. And a bomber jacket. A pair of tank tops. A pair of combat boots. A pair of sneakers. And, of course, the stuff from your suitcase. You pull the bomber jacket over the sweaty gym clothes. You feel the pack of cigarettes in the pocket on your sleeve. "Go on, go to the smokers' bar at the hotel. And let someone give you a light. Just as you are.". Actually, you just wanted to go to bed. But orders are orders. In your short sports shorts and tank top under your shiny nylon jacket you stand out in the bar like a colorful dog. Actually you want to take a box of matches. But the order was to have them give you a light. You approach an older gentleman in a suit who is smoking his cigar. He looks at you, opens your jacket and reads "Gym Slut" aloud. He gives you a light and asks what you take for once blowing. You have no idea what to answer. You say € 50.00. The gentleman grabs your crotch, feels the cock cage and grins. He asks if you can keep the money or if your master gets it. You don't answer at all and follow him wordlessly to the toilet.

It is 02:00 o'clock when you are back in your room. You have smoked a pack of cigarettes and sucked four cocks. "Gym at 06:00" is written in your display. You drink another protein shake and fall into a deep sleep.

Good thing you didn't take off your latex shorts to sleep. That way you could prevent another mess in your bed. You take off the shorts, wash them briefly in the sink and go to the gym without underpants with your sports clothes smelling of sweat and cigarette smoke. Heck, it's 09:00 when you remember the conference. Your boss will kill you if you skip the day. A message pops up on your phone with an address. 10:00. On time. You hesitate. So far, everything has been very cool and exciting. But now it's about your job. You don't think with your head anymore. You think with your dick. And your caged dick tells you that you have to be at the address at 10:00.

A dark side street in a bad looking neighborhood. The cab driver took your money and made sure he got there fast. Nothing but a black door in a black facade. And a doorbell. You ring the bell. And the door opens. A bare-chested fellow asks you if you're Gareth. You nod. He invites you in and tells you to take a seat. Hours of agony begin.

It is 22:00 o'clock, when you stand again on the street. Your hair is shorn short. And you are inked. Richly inked. You used to be Gareth. Now you are Pig. Or Gaz. At least both are so prominently inked on your neck. You call a cab, but the way you stand on the street with a cigarette in your mouth in your leather pants and bomber jacket over your otherwise naked torso, no car stops. You receive a new message. You have checked out of your hotel. Your luggage has moved to a guesthouse. Around the corner. The entrance is through a bar. In front of it a group of smoking young men, at the sight of which your cock cage is almost blown. One of the fellows looks at you, pulls up the contents of his nose and snorts everything on his boot. Two days ago you would have turned away in disgust. But now you get down on your knees. And lick the snot off his boots. The fellow pulls you up by your collar and spits in your face. He turns around and you follow without asking a question.

Before you move into your cell, you have to hand over your cell phone. You now receive your orders via a new cell phone. And the next order comes immediately. You have to take the anal beads and come to the bar. You may live in a cell, but you are not a prisoner. At most of your sexual fantasies. And now get to know your master.

Hot inspiration found at @pigbberlin

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #male transformation #muscle transformation

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hollybell51 · 1 year

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ok i know you said requests are backlogged but i also read your sam winchester fic (oh my god???? so good!!!!!) and i noticed that you put dean on your tag list form and i am literally in love with him so if you get time could you do like a hurt/confort fic for him where the reader gets like seriously injured and tells him she loves him because she thinks she's dying and doesn't wanna die without saying it?

Anon you are in luck, the supernatural brainrot is still going strong. Also if you wanna be tagged in stuff make sure you submit responses to that form otherwise I don't know what usernames to put xx

The other thing

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Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 5.8K

Summary: hunting a ghost that only seems to attack young women, you volunteer yourself as bait. The plan doesn't exactly go to plan, leading to some confessions being made.

Content: ANGST. Angst, besties. Hurt/comfort, mainly hurt but there is some comfort there, whump (sorta), mostly Dean's perspective but still second person narrative voice (loml), probably bad characterisation but I think it's passable???? Sam is like the no. 1 Dean/you shipper, A+ wingman. Badly written emotional vulnerability but I tried I promise. Kissing, first kisses, "I love you"s, bit of blood but not too explicit, hospitals, etc. etc. Dean is a warning on his own but yknow what I love him. I may have missed some stuff so please don't hesitate to catch me on it!

Notes: ft. my freaking awful titles lmaoooo. This isn't really set during any actual episode, but I'm sorta working off only having watched the first two seasons so just assume it takes place somewhere around then. Also the more I watch this the more I just wanna grab him and put him in my pocket or something, it's so bizarre. He's so pretty. I love his cockiness, I love the little eyebrow thing he does, I love the little jaw thing he does. Sorry if I messed up any lore or anything, writing this was a fever dream but tbh I had fun, it's nice to just sorta write you know? Thanks for the suggestion Anon

“Guys, can you hurry up?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, frantically sprinkling fuel over the exposed corpse below. He couldn’t see all that much in the darkness, but it didn’t exactly look like you had the upper hand. None of them had realised how big the ghost was until now, and with the machete it was currently slashing at you…

“Almost there!” Sam shouted, striking a match and casting it into the grave. The remains went up with a “whoomp!”, the ghost howled and stumbled back. It was difficult to really know what happened in those few moments as the light from the burning remains glinted off the metal of the machete and the ghost shimmered and began to disappear, but what was clear was that something had happened to you.

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping your own weapon with a dull thud. You staggered, catching yourself on a headstone before your knees gave out and you sank to the ground. You were hunched over awkwardly, your shoulders heaving, hands clutched tight to your stomach.

“(Y/N)?” Dean asked, frowning. Were you hurt? Just out of breath?

“I’m alright,” you called. “Just… give me a second.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered, dropping the salt and packet of matches and running towards you. “Dean!” he yelled as he knelt down, stripping off his jacket and balling it up, pressing it to your stomach.

No, Dean thought. No, no, no, no. He was frozen, the can of fuel dangling limply from his fingers. He’d known using you as bait for a psychotic ghost murderer was a bad idea, even when you’d insisted that you’d be fine. It wasn't that he didn’t think you could handle it – he’d seen you in action enough times to know you were a force to be reckoned with – but he’d had a horrible feeling something was going to go wrong from the moment you’d laid out your plan.

“He goes after girls, right?” You’d had an uncomfortable light in your eyes, all steely determination that Dean simultaneously loved and hated. Loved because, well, it was so you and it meant you were getting shit done, hated because more often than not you were putting yourself in danger. And yes, he was aware of the hypocrisy.

He’d tried to talk you out of it, Sam had too. But once your mind was set – and set it was – no amount of convincing on anyone’s part could do anything about it. The second the idea had begun to form in your brain, the path was laid and there was no point trying to change that.

“You better get over here man, quick!” Sam’s voice dropped, but wasn’t quiet enough that Dean couldn’t hear his next words, addressed to you. “Just hold on, Dean’s coming. Keep breathing, ok?”

Fuck, that didn’t sound good. Dean’s limbs jerked back to life. He didn’t waste another second, sprinting the few metres through the forest of tombstones to where his brother was bent over you.

“Don’t just stand there!” Sam yelled, one hand pressing his jacket to your stomach. “Help me!”

It was like his body was moving on autopilot, kneeling beside you and taking over from Sam without any input from Dean himself. Dully, he noticed that there was already a warm, damp patch on the jacket, as well as a dark spot glistening darkly over your side. Shit.

“I’ll be fine,” you’d insisted when he'd raised his doubts. “I’ve got you guys. You just burn the bones fast, I reckon I can hold him off for a few minutes.” Then you’d shrugged, grinning. “And if it all goes to hell, I know you’ve got my back.”

Yeah, fat lot of help they’d been.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He got me on his way out,” you laughed bitterly. “Can you believe that? Halfway gone and he just–” You broke off, making a vague slashing gesture with your free hand. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, no you did fine. We shoulda been quicker.” Dean assured you, pressing harder. “Sorry,” he muttered as you let out a pained whimper.

“‘Salright,” you grimaced. “My fault. Dean, I gotta–”

“Shh, no, it’s fine. It’s ok, you’ll be ok.”

You shook your head, tears mixing with the sweat on your face. He watched one trace a path through the dirt caked on your skin. “It’s important, please.”

He shook his head. “The only thing that’s important right now is keeping your eyes open, yeah? Just… just do that.”

“I’m calling 911,” Sam said. “Just stay there, don’t move.”

“I’m not planning on taking off, don’t worry.” You smiled tightly, then your face twisted in what Dean thought was fear, panic even. It was like a punch to his stomach, he hadn’t seen you look that scared since… Well, ever. Your hand fumbled over his, trying to find something to grab.

“It’s alright,” he told you, pressing on the jacked one-handed as the fingers of the other one twined with your own. “It’s alright, (Y/N).”

“No, no Dean, you have to burn me. Make sure you salt me, uh… Sage, use sage too.”

He felt the blood drain from his face, cold rushing through him. “What?”

“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone. You have to get rid of me, ok?”

Oh God. Oh God. Dean looked up, searching frantically for Sam. He was watching you while he talked to the emergency operator, his fist pressed against his mouth and his hand shaking where he held the phone. He met Dean’s eyes, shaking his head.

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone because you’re not going anywhere.” Dean’s voice was blessedly steady, despite the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“Promise me,” you whispered, then shouted when he didn’t respond. “Promise me, Dean!”

He gripped your hand tighter, your own fingers digging harshly into his flesh. “I promise you will be ok,” he said.

You sobbed, your body heaving under the rapidly dampening jacket. That was way too much blood for Dean’s liking, and judging by the increasing urgency of Sam’s quiet conversation on the phone, he felt the same.

Your panicked gaze locked on Dean’s face, tears coursing down your cheeks. “I don’t wanna go,” you choked. “I didn’t tell you. I can’t go.”

Didn’t tell him what? It didn’t matter. He squeezed your hand in what he hoped was a more reassuring than painful way. “It’s ok, you’re not going anywhere, alright? You’re staying right here, I’ve got you.”

“You’ve gotta listen to me, Dean–”

“No, tell me later. Just hold on, save your energy.”

“Dean–”

“(Y/N) hold on!”

“Dean!”

“Dean, listen to her.” Sam had finished on the phone, the screen shining eerily on his face. At Dean’s raised eyebrow he gave a tiny nod. Yeah, there was an ambulance on the way.

“Sam, she is not gonna die.” He shook his head, turning back to you. “We’ve got all the time in the world, ok sweetheart?” He searched frantically for something to say, anything to keep your attention. He was no doctor, but he knew it would be bad if you passed out. Very bad.

“Uh… fuck.” He broke off, floundering. What would keep you awake? What could he possibly say after you’d just made him promise to get rid of your spirit once you were dead, which was not going to happen.

“It’s actually not a bad night,�� he started, already kicking himself mentally. “Bit of a breeze. I guess it’s sheltered down there, you’ve got a nice, uh, headstone blocking it. Ground’s not too bad either, not too hard. Glad it’s not gravel, my knees’re killing me.”

A watery laugh clawed its way from you before another sob wracked your body. “Dean, I gotta tell you…”

“Can you see the stars from down there?” he asked, cutting you off. “I bet they’re bright out here. No light pollution.” He grabbed your hand as your fingers loosened their grip, dread settling like a stone in his stomach.

Your eyes wandered away from his face, sweeping over the space behind him. You nodded, but the haziness that had slid over your face didn’t do anything to help Dean’s panic, especially now that you weren’t holding his hand nearly as tightly as you had been.

“Wait,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “Just focus on me, keep looking at me.”

Your eyes swung back to his. “Please,” you whispered. “Please Dean, listen to me”

Sam’s hand settled on his shoulder, large and heavy. He nodded to your face when Dean glanced at him, and to his horror he realised there were specks of blood on your lips.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t realised, but this was probably one of the worst moments of his life. He’d entirely ignored even the possibility of you being injured, let alone dying – just thinking the word felt wrong – since you’d joined him and Sam, doggedly refusing to acknowledge the near physical ache the idea of your absence caused. Now it was happening, right in front of him. Heat prickled behind his eyes.

He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. “Yeah, alright sweetheart. You tell me, I’m listening.”

Relief washed over your face. “I wanted to say it,” you whispered, “before. I didn’t want it like this.”

“It’s ok. Sh, it’s ok.”

Your body convulsed under his hand with another sob, more blood leaking from the corners of your mouth. “I love you,” you choked. “I love you so much. I don’t wanna get stuck because I never told you.”

Oh. Oh. Dean’s mind went blank, then crashed right back into his skull. It was like swinging on a swing, at the peak of the arc where you floated a little before you started going down again. Yeah, that was his brain in that moment. Of course you’d have the guts to say it when he didn’t, even if it was out of fear of becoming an angry ghost. He cursed the universe and its cruel sense of humour. He faced horrors beyond most people’s imaginations almost every day, but still couldn’t say three simple words when he wanted to more than anything, and now you’d taken the first step for him and it was because you thought you were about to die. Someone up there must have hated his guts.

“I know,” he said finally, nodding. “I know you do. Hold on, ok? There’s an ambulance, it’s gonna get here any minute” It wasn’t what he wanted to tell you, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make his mouth cooperate.

You smiled, your grip on his hand all but nonexistent now. Your breathing was getting shallower by the second, your eyes unfocussed and no longer trained on his face. It was like now that you’d said your piece, you weren’t even trying to stay awake. He didn’t like to be too dramatic, but he was almost convinced that he was the one who’d been stabbed, not you.

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), not you. Please, not you.”

A wailing siren sounded in the distance, blue and red lights flashing rapidly brighter as the ambulance drew closer.

“Just a few more minutes,” Sam said, pacing. His eyes never left your face. “Come on, (Y/N), any second now.”

You were perfectly still, too still. Dean leant over, careful to keep applying pressure to your stomach as he listened for breath. The faintest hint of it brushed his cheek, not enough. He blinked hard, holding you against his chest, his face pressed into your hair. It still smelled like the cheap shampoo from the most recent motel, mixed with blood and dirt and sweat. It should have been disgusting, but to Dean it smelled so right. He wondered what that said about his lifestyle choices.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice choked. “(Y/N)...”

Your hand slipped from his, and it was like a damn breaking. He felt his shoulders jerk, something between a sob and a grunt torn from him.

“I love you too,” he whispered, clinging so tightly to you he was half scared he was going to hurt you. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, (Y/N), I love you.”

The siren was deafening as the ambulance skidded to a stop, Sam waving frantically to the paramedics swarming the graveyard. Someone pulled Dean back despite his protests. Cold stung his cheeks, the breeze from earlier having turned into a wind. It vaguely occurred to him that the reason it was so cold on his face was because he was crying.

Everything was a blur as you were engulfed by uniformed paramedics, your limp form lifted onto a stretcher and born away into the vehicle. Someone tried to talk to him before Sam, uncannily put together and coherent, spoke to them and explained. There was a lot of nodding and “thankyou”s, then Dean was being loaded into the Impala like a little kid and Sam was driving like you were in the back seat instead of in the ambulance.

All he was aware of at the hospital was Sam’s hand gripping his arm, muttering that he needed to pull it together “for her, man.” The harsh, clinical lights and the rush that everyone seemed to be in wasn’t helping Dean’s panic, every prone body he glimpsed taking on your face until he blinked and it was a complete stranger. What if the unthinkable really happened? What if you died, and he hadn’t been able to save you, keep you safe like you’d been so sure he would? What if you really did linger as a tormented spirit, what if he and Sam had to hunt you, get rid of you like you’d said? He didn’t know if he’d be able to do that.

Finally, a serious looking man with a clipboard and a badge approached them. “Are you with the young woman–” he glanced at the clipboard, “(Y/N), who just came in?”

“Yes,” Sam said quickly. “Yeah, how is she? Is she alright?”

“She’s damn lucky someone put as much pressure as they did on that cut,” he sighed. “She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking.

“Thankyou,” Sam smiled. “Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?”

He frowned at the clipboard again, tapping his fingers on the plastic. “Well she’s unconscious, I daresay she will be for a while yet.”

“Please,” Dean interrupted. “I– we just need to see her.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You boys family?”

“Brothers,” Sam lied at the same time as Dean said “husband.”

“I’m her husband,” he went on, ignoring the little flip his stomach did. Somehow, the familiar lie felt different now that he’d told you how he felt, even if you hadn’t heard. “He’s my brother in law.”

“Ok,” he shrugged, “but she won’t… Well, she was stabbed. There’s a lot of tubes, bandages, and she’s out cold. It might be…” He stopped, sighing. “Some people find it confronting, seeing their loved ones like this.”

Dean felt Sam glance at him, but he ignored it. “Trust me,” he said with a tight smile, “I’ve seen worse.”

He had not, as it turned out, seen worse. You were completely still apart from the gentle rise and fall of your chest, a thin cotton blanket pulled up and tucked in with clinical precision around your ribs. You had a little cut on your forehead that Dean hadn’t noticed at the graveyard. A drip trailed from the back of your hand to a cluster of bags suspended above you, a thin plastic tube wrapped around your head just under your nose. Oxygen, he assumed. If he ignored all that, you could have been sleeping.

Sam pushed the door open softly, as if he was afraid he’d wake you up. Dean hesitated a moment, then followed him inside. Up close, he could see the light sheen of sweat on your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the pallor of your lips and cheeks. He reached out to touch you, maybe lay his hand on your forehead or smooth your hair away from your face, but drew his hand back at the last moment. He didn’t want to somehow unbalance you from whatever tightrope you were walking right now, even though he knew that was illogical. Still, even breathing the same air felt somehow dangerous for you.

“Did she tell you?” he asked Sam eventually.

“That she loves you?” He didn’t give Dean a chance to explain that he hadn’t meant that, that he’d been talking about your fear of not-quite-death. “She never said it outright, but I sort of worked it out, y’know? You guys weren’t really that subtle.”

Dean frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just…” He shrugged, gesturing vaguely between your prone form and Dean. “You’re always looking at her, when you think she can’t see you. She does the same. Always just sorta… doing little things for each other. And you’re always touching her, I don’t know if you realised.”

“Huh. I didn’t.” It was true, although it didn’t really surprise him. He liked the little smile you gave him whenever he picked something up from a store for you – a favourite candy, something you’d mentioned you felt like – and he’d just assumed when you did similar things for him it was because you were, well, you. But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t name half as many times when you’d taken the same care and effort for Sam. Not that you’d neglected his brother, it was just… slightly less personal, less specially catered. He felt a surge of warmth for you, then a pang as his eyes landed again on your too-pale face.

As for touching you, well, he wanted to. All the time. He wanted to put his hand on your shoulder, wrap his arms around your waist, hold you close and feel your heartbeat against his. Every brief half-hug or brush of your skin against his was something precious to him, so of course he’d want more. His mind flashed back to the tightness of your hand in his at the graveyard, the warm slick of your blood as you’d clung to him. Even that had been almost euphoric, past the raw terror and sickening dread. He was going to hold you like that again – under better circumstances – if it killed him.

“Yeah,” Sam went on. “She’s the same, actually.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I remember this one time, Illinois, I think. We got a motel room with the longest couch you've ever seen. You sat down in the corner, and she comes and sits right next to you! When she’s got, like, another two metres of space to choose from.”

Dean did remember that, actually. He remembered the rush he’d gotten as you’d squished up against his side, complaining that you were cold even though your skin had been warm to the touch. He still thought about it, sometimes. “Huh,” he said again.

“Yeah.” It was silent apart from the beeping of your monitor and the normal hospital sounds outside the room, then Sam turned and faced him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Dean shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have let her put herself out there like that in the first place.”

“No, I was supposed to have her back. I shouldn’t have taken so long with the salt.”

He wasn’t wrong, Dean knew that, but it had been him who’d agreed to your plan. You’d put your faith in him just as much as you had in Sam, and he’d let you down. He hadn’t liked the whole thing from the start, but still he’d gone ahead with it. And now here you were, lying unconscious in a hospital bed, and Sam was beating himself up about it. It was all so wrong, and Dean could have stopped it so easily. But as he looked at you, he swore he could hear you snorting derisively at him, crossing your arms with a firm “bullshit!”

“It’s my choice,” you’d say. “You’re really gonna try to steal my credit?”

“She’d call bullshit on you, you know,” he said.

His brother shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, you too probably. She’d poke you, right here.” He reached around and stuck his finger firmly in the middle of Dean’s chest, right where you’d done countless times.

Despite himself, Dean smiled. Then your drip beeped and he was jerked painfully back to the present, and the problem at hand.

“Did you know she was so scared?” he asked. “Of, y’know…” Dying. Haunting someone. Getting stuck here, not being able to move on.

Sam didn’t answer for a moment, then he sighed, still looking at you. “She mentioned it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Why didn’t she tell me?

“She didn’t want me to. She thought you’d think… I don’t know, that she wouldn’t be able to do the job. She really didn’t want you to know she was scared, she was so worried about what you thought of her. She said you were…” He swallowed, cleared his throat, continued. “She said you were never scared, and she didn’t want you to think she was. Even when I told her we were all terrified.”

“Damn right,” Dean muttered. You’d done a great job at putting on such a brave front, he’d sometimes wondered if there was actually something wrong with you. Or maybe not wrong, but different. He’d never known anyone who could handle the things they did so well, not even his dad. It was something of a relief to know that there was more to it.

“She was convinced she’d be the type of person to get stuck,” he continued. “Kept saying she wouldn’t be able to move on, that she had too much that she was holding onto and she didn’t know how to let go.” He finally raised his head, looking at Dean with what he thought was pity. Any other time, that would have annoyed him.

“That’s why she said it,” he muttered, the uncomfortable lump back in his throat. When you woke up, he was going to give you a serious talk about timing.

Sam nodded.

“And she didn’t–” His voice broke, and he turned away. He wanted to punch something, put his fist through the wall or slam his hand down on the table, but he was too scared it would somehow disturb you. “I didn’t say it back.”

“Woah, hey.” Sam’s hand was firm on his shoulder, steadying him. “You did, man. You did.”

“I was too late! She was out!”

“Yeah, and you can tell her again when she wakes up.”

“What if–”

“No.” Sam shook his head firmly, fingers digging into Dean’s shoulder, anchoring him to the spot. “She’s waking up, and when she does you’re gonna ask her out on a proper date, she’s gonna say yes, and you’re gonna sort yourselves out like adults. Ok?”

Dean looked away. The prospect of asking you out suddenly felt enormous. Of course he’d taken girls on dates before, he knew what he was doing, but that had been more along the lines of “I think you’re cute and you’re clearly into me, let’s get dinner and then we can hook up.” He’d never faced “I’ve been pining over you for months and I was too scared to do anything about it but you almost died and told me you loved me – love, not like – and I have no idea where this is gonna go but Sam’s right and asking you out is probably the best next step even if it’s absolutely terrifying”. He was a total mess, and he knew it.

“Ok?” Sam asked again, insistent.

“Ok,” he agreed. “Ok.”

“Good.”

You didn’t wake up until a day later. Well, that was according to the time and date displayed on the clock opposite your bed. Dean didn’t really have any recollection of time actually passing.

He was slumped in the chair beside your bed, your hand held gently in his own as he dozed. He hadn’t let himself fully sleep since you’d been brought in, too afraid that something would happen while he was out, despite all Sam’s urging. Eventually he’d just sent his brother back to the motel, assuring him that he’d be fine on his own and that he wanted to be there for you when you came around.

He jerked out of his half-nap when your fingers twitched, cursing when his pain stabbed through his neck. Snoozing in hospital chairs was never a good idea.

“Fuck,” you groaned, frowning at the ceiling.

Dean cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. “(Y/N)?”

You turned, your face clearing when you saw him. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Dean,” you whispered. “What’re you doing here?”

He shrugged, making to withdraw his hand, but your grip tightened. “I’m the ‘welcome back’ committee.”

“Oh.” You nodded, smiling softly. You ran your free hand over the bandage circling your waist, studying the IV embedded in your skin. “We got him, didn’t we?” you asked.

Right, the ghost. “Uh, yeah, he’s gone. Your plan worked,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“It was a pretty good plan,” you grinned.

He shook his head. “It almost got you killed.”

“But it worked,” you insisted, your eyes shining. “He’s gone, Dean. Who knows how many people we saved?”

“And what about you, huh?”

You shrugged. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He took a deep breath, bending his head so you wouldn’t see the moisture he was sure he could feel gathering in his eyes. How were you so casual about it? It had been your life on the line, you who’d gotten stabbed, who’d been bleeding out, terrified of not dying properly and becoming a ghost yourself.

“Hey,” you said gently, your hand slipping from his, sliding up over his arm to rest hesitantly on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“You almost died, (Y/N). Sam told me, what you said about getting stuck, being unable to move on.”

You were silent for a moment, then you sighed. “Well it’s just awkward now that I’m still here.”

Despite himself, Dean laughed. He raised his head, placing his hand over yours, rubbing his thumb in a circle over it. Your skin was warm as ever, dry to the touch. It was such a contrast from the graveyard, one he was glad of. You smiled, some of the colour already returning to your face.

“I’ve always got your back,” he said, “no matter what. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted to, I really wanted to. But I just… I don’t know, I just couldn’t. Every time I tried it was like this brick wall went up in my brain.” You shrugged, drawing your hand back as you shifted to sit more upright. Dean missed its warmth instantly. “You’re always so… unfazed, you know? It felt kinda stupid.”

He snorted. Sure, Sam had already told him what you’d said, but it was different coming from you.

You folded your arms, as if you’d just won an argument. “See?”

“Shit, (Y/N),” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not – what’d you say? – unfazed. This shit gets to me too, I just…” He thought, unsure how to phrase it. “I didn’t wanna scare you,” he finally settled for. “Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh.” You picked at a loose thread in the blanket, biting your lip. “And the other thing?”

“Yeah, the other thing.” He’d known this was coming, he’d tried to find the words as he’d sat beside you, waiting for you to wake up. He’d almost had it, he told himself. How hard could it be, after all?

“I didn’t wanna die with, like, unfinished business. That’s the main reason people stick around. It felt like if I didn’t get it out there, I wouldn’t ever be able to… keep going. Move on.” You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “It’s ok,” you went on, “if you don’t, y’know, feel the same. I’d understand.”

So you hadn’t heard him. Dean wasn’t surprised, but some part of him had been clinging to the hope that somehow his words had gotten through to you even as you were bundled into the back of the ambulance.

He shook his head. “I just wish you’d said something before.”

You looked up, hope chasing confusion across your face. “What?”

“I wish you’d said something before,” he repeated. “It would’ve saved us both a lotta trouble.”

“I don’t…” You frowned. “What’re you…?”

He shrugged, his heart beating a million mph. “I love you too,” he said simply.

You blinked, opening your mouth to say something, closing it again. Slowly, a smile crept across your features. “Alright,” you grinned, way too smug for Dean’s liking. “Alright then.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but the threat was empty and you both knew it.

You shifted again, leaning towards him. “Come here,” you said softly.

He stood, ignoring the ache in his back from the bloody uncomfortable chair.

Impatiently, you beckoned him closer.

He raised an eyebrow, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “Do I get to kiss you?”

“That’s the goal, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, tilting your face against his hand. Dean wasn’t fond of the whole “butterflies in your stomach” thing, but he had no idea how else to describe the feeling that tiny gesture conjured. It really was like someone had released a swarm of the things inside him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

You were watching him expectantly, almost like you were challenging him. “Go on,” your eyes seemed to be saying, “try it.”

He did. Your lips were softer than he’d expected, and just as warm as your hands. You made a sound somewhere in the realm of a sigh as his hand slid down to rest on your shoulder, pushing gently towards him, your own fingers running over his jaw to brush along the back of his neck. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to kiss you, and now that he’d finally taken the plunge, he never wanted to stop.

But he had to breathe, unfortunately, and so did you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. You were still close enough that he could feel the words against his skin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he replied.

You laughed, a soft, breathy sound, and closed the tiny gap once more. “I love you,” you murmured between kisses, “and I’m sorry it took me almost dying to say it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too.”

The door handle clicked, the hinges squealing. “Ok, so I ran into the doctor on the way in— woah.”

Dean stood up so fast he almost overbalanced.

Sam was standing in the doorway with a disposable coffee cup in each hand, his mouth hanging open as he stared from you to Dean and back again.

You cleared your throat. “Hi, Sam.”

He shut his mouth, shoving the cups into Dean’s hands as he crossed the room and bent to hug you with a muttered “thank God.”

“Watch it,” you warned, “I’m injured.” But your arms snaked around his back anyway, your voice muffled as you pressed your face into his neck.

“You’re never allowed to scare us like that again,” Sam said firmly.

Your eyes found Dean’s over Sam’s shoulder, and you smiled. “I’m not really planning on it, don’t worry.”

Sam just laughed. “How’re you feeling?” he asked when he finally let you go.

“Ok,” you nodded, then frowned. “Hungry.”

Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged. He’d gotten bored some time in the morning, and the packet of pudding that had been left on your bedside table along with a bottle of water had been practically begging to be tasted. He’d wondered if you’d wake up before they brought a replacement, he’d even felt a little bad eating your food, but he was hungry, dammit, and when Sam had left he’d said he would come back “later” which meant “tonight”. And that was too long for Dean to wait. He also didn’t have any money on him, and wouldn’t have left your side for the cafeteria when the pudding was right there.

“What?” you asked.

“He ate the pudding they left you,” Sam said. Dean never should have mentioned it, but he’d been desperate to get Sam to bring him something and it had felt convincing over the phone.

Dean glared at his brother and the coffees – which were very noticeably not the fast food he’d had in mind. “You try living in that chair for a day, see how long you can go without.” Then he turned to you. “You didn’t miss much, don’t worry.”

“Well, I’m hungry!” you protested, crossing your arms and looking for all the world like a petulant toddler.

Sam’s words about asking you out echoed in his mind.

“I’ll buy you dinner,” he said. “At an actual restaurant, not a fast food place. As soon as they let you outta here, alright? In the meantime…” He reached for the bottle of water, handing it to you with an apologetic shrug. It was better than nothing.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “This is a pretty shit first date.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. Then, on second thoughts, “It’s not a first date, Sam’s here.”

“Geez,” Sam muttered, “sorry. And after I got you a coffee too.”

“Did you get me one?” you asked hopefully.

“No,” he said slowly. “But you can have mine if you want?”

You sighed. “I don’t like it how you do. But thanks,” you added with a smile.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

“Have a little faith, Sam.”

He smiled, glancing between you and Dean.

“You owe me a coffee, and you owe me a dinner,” you continued before he could say anything. Dean thanked you silently. He didn’t really want a shovel talk from his own brother right now, which he could see Sam was just dying to dish out. He wondered if you’d be getting one. Probably, but he had no doubts that it would be less “shovel” more “talk”.

“Soon as you’re fixed up,” he said. “I promise.”

“And it’ll be a date?”

“Sweetheart, it’ll be the best first date you’ve ever been on. Trust me.”

You just grinned, ignoring Sam’s fake-disgusted sigh. “Ok.”

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