#tfw & reader

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu #TFWS #winter soldier #avengers #bucky barnes #marvel

[milkbreadtoast]

quick doodle..

+ some kdj eye tests.....

edit ok 1 last test doodle... lol

i lied LAST ONE FOR REAL. 중혁이.... n_n

#orv #kim dokja #yu junghyeok #yoo joonghyuk #tfw 2 official spellings... #omniscient reader's viewpoint #joongdok #my art #still not ready to draw srs fanart but this is thanks for liking that kdj doodle the other day... 🏃🏻 #still not sure what eyeshape to give kdj LOL #edit: added some eye tests #edit: I KEPT DOODLING MORE LMAO that yjh is the last one tho🫡

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Fight Club

Team Free Will & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you start a fight club at school, and your protective big brothers and guardian angel find out about it.

“Is that a bruise?”

You tensed at Sam’s question as he grabbed your arm.

“Oh, I guess.”

“What’s it from?”

You shrugged, “Don’t remember.”

“That’s not a ‘don’t remember’ bruise,” Dean cut in. “I’ve got plenty of those. That’s a bad one. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly. “I mean, you should see the other guy.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. The boys were on their feet in a second, immediately alert.

“Other guy? You were in a fight?” Dean demanded.

“Who was it? Did he hurt you?” Sam asked.

“Does it have anything to do with this?” The three of you turned at Castiel’s question. He was holding up your backpack, which you’d left open, and clearly visible inside were a few stacks of bills; fives, tens, even twenties.

“What…where…did you steal that?” Dean demanded.

“No!” You insisted. “I earned it.” A small smile crept over your face. “You could say I fought for it.”

Sam groaned, but Dean and Cas still seemed confused.

“You what?”

“She started a fight club, Dean,” Sam sighed. “Which was very, very stupid.”

“Stupid?” You scoffed. “It was awesome! I always win, so—“

“So, one day’s gonna come when you don’t,” Sam interrupted. “Your fight skills are not for recreation, Y/N. They’re for self defense.”

“He’s right,” Dean said reluctantly. “Look, this is cool and all, and it looks like something I would’ve done at your age—“ Dean ignored Sam’s glare—“but Sammy’s right. You shouldn’t be using your skills to beat up kids for money, that’s not ok.”

“Says you,” you replied, grabbing your bag and heading for your room.

“Hey.” Sam grabbed your arm. “Kid, c’mon. Promise me no more fight club, ok? I know you think we’re lame for that, and that’s fine. Just promise me.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “I promise.”

#dean winchester #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #team free will #team free will & reader #team free will x reader #tfw #tfw x reader #tfw & reader #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x winchester!reader #castiel x reader #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam and dean x child!reader #spn sam winchester #supernatural sam

[fell-fell]

aceyuu but its that one time-travelling ace theory

#tfw your bestie/crush is NOT beating the doomed by the narrative allegations #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twst yuu #twet mc #aceyuu #i dont like this it looks like literal ass #but eh #fellfell draws

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

do you want to be needed, or do you want to be wanted?

*throws this betrothed au sappiness at you* i hope u enjoy this despite how low effort and smashed together it is pls forgive me srry *scuttles back under my littel moss covered rock*

#bones of a rabbit #bones of a rabbit art #comic #fnaf au #fnaf eclipse x y/n #fnaf eclipse x reader #betrothed au #royals x servant au #royal eclipse #sappy bullshi #silly fluff #fluff n romaaance #kisses n smooches #doodles #sketches #sappy robot bois #tw crying #loneliness and uncertainty #tfw ur afraid of losing ur biggest supporter and best friend but then u somehow accidentally confess that ur big stupid in love w them #lol oops :3c

[bitchylandtyphoon]

Important to me

Sam Winchester x Reader

(Y/N): your name

(E/C): eye colour

(C/C): celeb crush

Sam and Dean slowly descended the rusty black stairs, trying not to trip from exhaustion. Every nerve ending in their body was hypersensitive; their fingers and toes were cold; their eyes and heads pounded from lack of sleep; and a rotting stench was secreting from their overworn clothing. “Hey guys, how was the hunt?" you asked in a gentle voice to avoid elevating their migraine pain. Dean mumbled under his breath as he walked to his room; even Sam could only give a small smile and “tiring” as a response.

You’ve noticed how the boys have become more tired after their hunts. Maybe it was because you did all the research while they did all the dirty work, or simply because they were getting older. Either way, it’s been taking a toll on their health, and you know it wouldn’t be good in the long run.

Judging from their clothes, you assumed they’d be taking a shower before getting some shut-eye, but you didn’t want them to go to bed hungry.

Walking to the kitchen, you opened the white door of the fridge, which consisted of a few eggs, lettuce, and beer. Wow, no wonder these guys only eat out. Groaning, you grabbed your keys and coat, texting Sam and Dean that you'd be heading out, knowing disturbing them wouldn’t be the best idea.

——————————————————————— Sam walked out of the steaming shower, wrapping his lower body in a towel. Taking another to dry off his hair. He ran his long fingers through his hair, noticing it had become very coarse over the past few months. Sam thought back to a hunt when shards of a monster's guts managed to get stuck in his hair. He felt like it was a personal attack; a shower didn’t help as much as he wanted to either. He spent hours trying to get the red and black hard goo out, even asking Dean. Unfortunately, Dean was not very gentle and made Sam partially ball. He remembers how you saved the day with coconut oil and a small brush. You had to sit on a chair while Sam sat crisscrossed in between your legs. You guys were still getting to know each other, so it was an awkward moment, but after Sam felt your gentle nails and euphoric massage, he melted. His head rested on your bare, soft thigh as you worked on the sides of his head. He felt so much at peace that he could’ve slept right then and there. He chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair, wishing he could have some of that magic right now. He wanted the comfort you gave him.

Putting on his comfier clothes, he slid into his bed, falling soundly asleep with a fond yet tired memory passing through his head once more.

——————————————————————— You slide open the door, balancing heavy bags of groceries, a special box containing a slice of heaven for Dean, and the boys’ favourite drinks. You dropped the bags in the kitchen, unpacking them away into the cupboards and fridge. Knowing it would be a long night, you pulled out your phone and put some music on low. You then turned on the gas stove, grabbing the lighter out of the drawer to start the fire. Begin by taking out mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and other foods, washing them before finely chopping them, and cooking them on low heat. You added seasoning and eventually smelled the delicious aroma emanating from the dish. Now you need to cook the meat.

————————————————— Each boiling drop from the shower head felt relaxing and painful as it fell onto Dean's hunched back. The heat soothed his ache, yet, the new bruises were sending another sensation of pain throughout his back. He groaned as he faced the shower head and allowed the pellets to hit his face, giving all his might to scrub away the dried-up blood and sweat embedded in his freckled skin. All he could think about was sleep, hoping to sleep as much as he could yet, knowing another case would cut his rest short. He took the white soap bar and breathed in the rose aroma it released, it reminded him of you. Dean was glad he had a girl like you in his life, no matter what was bothering his thoughts or physically torturing him, he knew he’d have you to patch him up. You were always there for Sam and him. Every time you carefully did his stitches, gave him a needed hug, fixed his tie or walked into your room, the smell would give him a sense of comfort. It reminded him of his younger days spent with his mom. It reminded him of home.

——————————————————————— You put on the blue oven kits cautiously taking out the crispy chicken from the oven. The meal was finished and so were the other dishes you made. You even had time to prepare healthy snacks and some of Sam’s favourite protein drinks. From a young age, you hated the thought of being a housewife and having to complete all the duties at home, but you knew it was the least you could do to cheer them up, adding much-needed order to their already chaotic lives. Plus, it was nothing compared to all they did for you after they took you in. You smiled as you admired the dinner table, for once looking like a normal family’s dinner table and not used as a summoning ground.

You knocked on Sam’s door to get no response, knowing the younger Winchester might’ve fallen asleep you went to go check on the other one. Knocking once again to hear a low “yeah…”. Pushing the door you see a half awake, now clean Dean, lying against the headboard watching TV.

“Hey,” you gently said. “How are you feeling?”. His eyes were still heavy with sleep but pupils dilated from insomnia. You could tell he tried sleeping but to no avail. “Listen,” you sit on the bed and see him smile a bit. “I know you’re tired but I made some food for you and Sam and you should eat. You’d sleep better with a full stomach. And I might have some pieee”. With that Dean jumped into his bunny slippers and strutted towards the kitchen in his pink nightgown. Chuckling at Dean's cuteness, stopping before leaving the room as you saw the big pile of bloodied clothes on the floor.

———————————————————————

“Hey Sam, I’m coming in.” You announced, entering the neat room, smelling a mix of pine trees and cheap cologne. You saw Sam’s large body lying on his stomach, a soft snore coming from his peaceful slumber. Quietly entering the room, you searched for his hamper, unlike the other one, Sam kept his dirty clothes in one, making it easier for you to take the clothes out of his room.

As you passed by Sam, you stood there watching him, taking advantage of the sliver of peace he was given. You put the hamper down slowly to not wake up Sam, getting on your knees, face level with Sam’s. You watched as his lips laid in a pouted style, opening once in a while to exhale, you took notes of the small moles, birthmarks and faint freckles scattered over his face like stars, noticing how perfect his nose was; never have you ever seen a perfect natural triangle. His thick dark brown eyebrows arched over his forehead symmetrically and his lashes fluttered gracefully as butterflies. His hair was your favourite part, ever since you helped take the guts out of his hair you missed the proximity and softness. His soft hair tickled the inside of your thighs and reminded you of a dog’s overgrown mane. It was beautiful to touch.

You then noticed the crevices appearing in his forehead and eye sockets. He starts to stir in his sheets, the peaceful expressions disappearing, turning into a pained one. He began making uncomfortable noises. He was going into a nightmare.

“Sam, hey wake up! Sam come on, wake up. It’s just a dream!” Sam’s head started moving side to side, the veins in his temple and neck protruding. His eyes were tightly shut and beads of sweat formed across his forehead. His hand gripped firmly onto the arm shaking his shoulder, the other gripping the the brown sheets. “SAM WAKE UP!” Shouting wouldn’t help anymore, looking around you see a cup of water on the nightstand.

——————————————————————— Sam jolted up with a gasp, cold water on his face which soaked most of his hair and nightshirt. He grasped onto as much air as possible, eyes wide trying to familiarize his surroundings. A sense of relief overcame him when he saw your concerned (e/c) eyes.

He saw how your eyes travelled over his face searching for an answer, too shocked or scared to say anything. He sighed, “Don’t tell Dean, please.”

“Ok, I won’t.” What was that, you thought to yourself, you’ve never seen this type of behaviour from him. “At least talk to me about it. You’ve been more tired than usual and it’s worrying. If you’re not gonna tell Dean, tell me.”

Sam smiled, his heart swell when he heard your confession. For once someone was listening to his struggles without ratting out to Dean.

“Um Sam…” Sam shares a confused look until you look down at your now red and numb arm. “Sorry!” Sam immediately retracts his arm away, allowing the blood to rush back to the area.

“It’s like you’ve never touched a girl before or something” you joke trying to lighten up the mood. He laughs under his breath. “Come downstairs and eat something.” You demanded as you rubbed your sore arm.

“It’s okay-“

“Sam.”

He grins his teeth as he sees your serious face. Cute, he thought.

You grab onto his large calloused hands and attempt to pull the giant out of bed, barely budging. “Oh my god, you are so friggin heavy. How are you built like a god with all that junk food?”

He jumps to his feet almost falling on top of you, your nose meeting his chest as the scent of fresh soap fills your nose. A blush rises to your skin at the proximity, looking up you see his brown eyes already staring down at you. You felt his thumb glazed over your smaller hands, which you both held onto each other. “So you think I’m built like a god huh?” Sam suggestively asks with a raised eyebrow.

Taking a quick step back, you playfully shove him away. “Haha very funny Indeed Winchester, get your ass downstairs.” Crossing your arms you wait till he exits his room, him and his footsteps disappearing into the hallway.

“(Y/n) THINKS I HAVE A HOT BODY” Sam shouts from the hallway; your eyes widen as instant embarrassment runs through your body. You hoped to god Dean didn’t hear or you’d never see the end of the teasing.

———————————————————————

You return to the kitchen to see two big babies chowing down on the meal you made, acting as if they hadn’t eaten in ages.

“(Y/n), THISH FWOOD ISH AMASHING” You barely make out the words as Dean continues to stuff his mouth with food. “What he said,” Sam says as he adds more food to his plate. You giggle as you sit next to Sam, glad to see them eating a proper meal. “Where did you even learn how to cook like this?” Dean asks. “My mom used to teach me the basics but then I picked it up more when I moved out. Haven’t cooked like this since University actually,” you answer. “So you’re gonna tell me we could’ve been eating like kings but you decided to torture us with takeout.” Dean jokes while dropping his fork on his plate. “I never hated you more.”

You burst out into laughter throwing your head back, “Please, you love me.” You say rolling your eyes. You noticed how Sam became quiet, twirling his food around a fork.

“Not as much as Sammy does,” Dean says with a devious smirk. Sam chokes on his food as you roll your eyes. “Very funny Dean” Sam glares at Dean.

“Sorry Sam but I’m off limits, too committed to (c/c).” You giggle as you jokingly twirl your hair. “He’s such a daring man dramatic sigh”.

“I’m gonna puke my food up if you keep acting like that,” Dean says with a disgusted face while trying to put even more food in his mouth.

You cheekily smile and see as Sam scoffs, taking note of the weird action. Dean gets up to put his plate away, you take this as a cue to start cleaning up the kitchen.

“Goodnight” Dean yells as he walks out the door. You and Sam both say goodnight. Then it hits you, that rascal. He left you and Sam in the kitchen alone. You can already feel the blood rushing to your ears, instead, you try to distract yourself by doing the dishes.

“Do you need help with anything?” His eyebrows knit together as he asks “Let me help clean at least.”

As much as you wanted him to rest, you couldn’t say no to him and his persuasion. Or maybe he had you wrapped around his finger. “Uh yeah, I’ll wash and you dry?” You offer pointing to the load of dishes. “Yeah, that’s great”. You grab the yellow sponge and begin scrubbing the sauces off the pots, leaving Sam to get the towel. Unmindful of you, you forget where the towels are, right in the cabinet in front of you, the towels stacked on the higher shelf. As you were about to move you felt Sam’s figure hover over your smaller frame. You freeze as you feel his body’s heat mingle with your cold body. His large hand rests on your lower back.

To another person, it could be a simple gesture, but to you, deep down you were screaming from the closeness of it all. Somehow Sam had always made you shy in his presence, you didn’t know if it was because of how smart and skilled he was that made you feel inadequate to him or how he made you weak in the knees with his beautiful…well everything. You’ve been close with other men like Dean, yet Sam’s touches and glances manage to get your cheeks red and heart pumping.

You mindlessly scrub a knife, hoping to finish the chore as soon as possible. “Ow ow ow…” you grimace in pain as the knife slices the side of your finger. You see Sam reacts quickly. Grabbing your hand and putting it under the faucet, turning on the cold water. “This looks pretty bad,” he says as he takes your hands in his. One hand holds on to your wrist while the other gently presses the cut, attempting to get as much blood out.

You could not imagine a more embarrassing moment, the one time you’re alone with Sam you embarrass yourself like a child. Yet you couldn’t ignore how Sam’s body was pressed against yours, you could feel the rough outlines in his body. The front of his leg pressed up against your butt.

“Does it hurt?” Sam asks, not looking away from the cut.

“It just stings but not too much” you reply, noticing the decreased blood spillage.

He takes your other hand and guides your fingers into mirroring his previous actions. “Don’t move I’ll be back”. His warmth fades and you stand still, waiting as the cold water cleans up your cut.

You throw your head back, groaning at your clumsiness.

——————————————————————- Hissing in pain, Sam dabs rubbing alcohol into your new cut. You’re now sitting in his room as it was the closest place with a first aid kit.

“There, all done. How does it feel?” Sam finishes wrapping a large bandaid around the wound.

“I am so much better now. Thank you, Sam.”

Sam gives you a soft smile and he cleans the area up, you watch as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV.

“I thought you were tired”

“Come on, it’s only like 10 pm. We’ll be fine.” Sam defends himself as he sits on the other side of the bed. “Come closer.” He pats the empty spot beside him.

You look stunned at what the Winchester is implying until you realize he means to lay against the headboard. You slowly get up, sitting beside Sam but leaving a good space between both your bodies.

“So what do you want to watch?” Sam asks as he starts surfing through movies on his TV.

“I’m okay with whatever.” ——————————————————————— You turn to Sam to talk to him about the climax when you realize he has dosed off. His head leaning back on the headboard, from the side it looked uncomfortable. Not knowing what to do, you decided to wait until the movie finished. ——————————————————————— You yawned as the movie neared its end, all the characters looking over the bleeding horizon as the camera zooms out. From the lack of movement, you assume Sam is still asleep. You take his phone off the nightstand and turn the do not disturb mode on, if other hunters need you, you’ll handle the case for them. He deserves some rest.

You pull out your phone to scroll through your private socials. Seeing a few edits of your (c/c) and quietly giggling to yourself. You take a glance at Sam, still dosed off. He looks better now. Wait, you look between your (c/c) and Sam. Omg, how did you not see it before? You groan internally as you stare at your phone; the long-haired, smart, well-mannered, and tall golden retriever guy. They were honestly so alike. You hoped the boys wouldn’t be able to see the resemblance.

You thought back to the moment at the table when you were gushing over (c/c) and Sam scoffed. Do you think he was jealous? No, no way. You calm yourself down before the redness reaches your face.

You felt a heavy weight shift onto your shoulder, his hair tickling the crevice of your neck. You didn’t want to wake him up by checking but it was very evident that Sam had fallen asleep on your shoulder. You could smell the sandalwood scent coming from his hair, wishing you could get more of the comforting smell.

Sam was tired and you knew it would be a big fuss if you woke him up. So, you stayed there, looking at the TV screen, trying to hold in any excitement or scream within you. The butterflies are swarming their way around your stomach. That is until you felt Sam’s arm wrap around your torso.

You stay still, unlike your body temperature which skyrockets at the sudden touch. You feel yourself being pulled towards him even more, his head snuggling dangerously close to your neck, his lips close to your skin. Sam’s hot breath created a burning sensation, your heat causing them to burn tenfold.

You weren’t gonna move, you couldn’t leave, you were stuck beside Sam for the rest of the night. You exhale trying to calm yourself; he’ll forget all about this tomorrow. This is totally what friends do. You cuddle and panic internally with Dean all the time. You couldn’t be lying more at this point. You shut your eyes, you carefully reach over to turn the nightlight off.

click

The only light was emitting from the faint blue light on the TV. Its light began to shut off as the room welcomed pure darkness.

So you lay there in the dark as you feel Sam’s body snuggled right up to yours, his arms holding you captive as his fingers twitch and graze you ever so often. This would be a dream if you guys were together. You’ve liked Sam ever since you knew him, and you love both him and Dean very much. Doing everything in your power to show how much you care for them. You just wanted Sam to love you and adore you the way you did.

You felt a wave of exhaustion hit you, and your own eyes became heavy with fatigue. Blinking slowly, you succumb to Sam’s comfort and allow your heavy head to lay on his.

#sam #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #samuel winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #tfw #tfw x reader #sam fluff #sam x reader fluff #Spotify

[welldonebeca]

The Groupie (2)

Summary: When Team Free Will, your favourite band, stopped by your town, you decide to make the night memorable by visiting their tour bus. And then you are found. (And fucked.) Pairing: TFW (Sam, Dean, Castiel) x F!Reader. WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Smut. Tension. Dirty talking. Fingering. A bit of exhibitionism. Foursome. Degrading kink. Oral sex.

Masterlist

Your face burned when you flushed in embarrassment, and Castiel looked back at his bandmates, not even caring.

"I have a visitor," he said simply.

The two brothers stood over you, tall and impressive.

"Castiel, is she of age?" Sam asked, and you frowned at him.

With everything happening, that was what he asked?

"Sammy, look at those tits,” Dean pointed at you. “Only girls over 18 have those tits."

The tall bassist moved to your bag, which you'd left on the first seat of the bus, taking your wallet and checking on your ID and your Diver's licence.

"2002," he read, and you could see his shoulders relaxing. "She's 22."

"See?" you panted.

Castiel clicked his tongue, and you wondered if he even cared.

Dean was watching you close, eyeing your tits as he sat down, and your cheeks flushed even more in embarrassment for all the eyes on you.

Still, your pussy fluttered around nothing, and you felt Castiel's fingers tightening on your thigh just as you felt your wetness sliding down, and he inhaled deeply.

"What did she agree to?" Dean asked, ignoring him.

"Me," he hummed, moving a finger to your clit and petting it slowly. "Just me, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on," he groaned.

You squirmed, whining as Castiel played with you slowly.

"What, you want to fuck her?" he asked.

You moaned under him, breathless and warm under him.

"Castiel," you panted.

"You like being watched, don't you?" he asked. "You're dripping right down to the couch."

Sam clicked his tongue, and you pouted when looking at him, finding his eyes dark and hard.

"You're making such a mess," he shook his head.

Castiel looked back at them at then at you.

"You know... she did say all her holes were available," he noticed. "Didn't you?"

You looked at him, and he waited. There was no pressure in his eyes, just a question.

"Yes," you whimpered.

"Yes!" Dean celebrated. "I call her pussy."

Sam glared at him.

"You can't call dibs right away!" he interrupted him. "And Castiel is literally there!"

"Then I call her mouth," Dean decided.

His little brother didn't look any happy.

"You can't switch it, Dean!" he argued.

"Well, you should have been faster, Sammy," he crossed his arms.

They started bickering, and your eyes crossed when Castiel straight up pinched your clit.

"See how much they want you, drippy whore?" he looked at your face. "And how unfair, to only be given one of your holes."

You whined, needy.

"Please," you arched your hips to him.

"And such a sweet, wet pussy..." he pushed two fingers into you. "How selfish it is to only let one of us have it."

You nodded. It was very selfish, it was.

"Or maybe," he pulled his fingers out, and traced them down your perineum and circled your ass. "We can let Sammy have a special little treat."

You whined.

"Sammy?" you moaned.

Sam looked right back at you.

"Have you ever, leaky whore?" Castiel asked.

You shook your head.

Sam licked his lips.

"I love little virgins," he declared. "Anywhere."

"And Dean can have your pretty lips, of course," Castiel decided. "He has called dibs, after all."

You moaned, and he stopped, holding your hips.

"Bend over the table," he commanded. "Present yourself to him."

You complied quickly, readily bending over their dining table and showing your ass to Sam.

"Fuck, look at that," he grabbed your ass, squeezing it.

Dean whistled as Sam spread your cheeks, taking some of your wetness and using it to coat your asshole.

"No one's fucked this ass, yet?" he hummed, pushing a finger into you.

"I didn't know if it'd feel good," you whined.

He hummed a little.

"Let me show you, then, princess."

He pulled you to his lap and spread your legs, and you could see his cock right against your pussy as he pulled a condom out and placed it over him.

"Pretty, pretty leaky whore," he kissed your cheek, cooing and humming. "Do you want my cock in your ass?"

"Please," you squirmed on top of him.

You were so needy. Castiel had been edging you this whole time!

Before you could beg more, he lifted you up, and Dean moved to your side, pushing his fingers into your hair, and you were surprised to see he already had his cock out.

"Wanna suck my cock, leaky whore?"

He pressed the head against your lips, and you felt cold lube coating your ass before Sam pushed his fingers inside you, and licked the head of Dean's cock, slowly taking him into your mouth.

"There you go," Sam cooed. "Good girl, good baby slut for us."

Dean groaned, pushing in, and you sucked on him dutifully.

"So perfect," he moaned. "Must be a fucking pro on sucking dick, aren't you?"

He moved slowly to your side, holding your head slowly, and you gasped when you felt Sam shifting under you and lips on your pussy.

"We can't forget about Cas," Sam hummed. "He was so nice sharing you with us."

You moaned, not even knowing what you could be focusing on right now. Dean was filling your mouth, Sam was stretching your ass, and Castiel was just devouring your pussy like nothing else was happening or mattered in the world.

Before you could even start working towards your orgasm, he pulled away.

“If you’re gonna fuck her there, you should get your dick nice and wet,” Dean said, pulling out.

You whined, trying to lean closer and take his dick again, but Sam used his free hand to grab your throat and pull you back.

You moaned loudly and almost fucking came right there.

Dean chuckled, stroking his cock with your spit as Castiel pulled his own out, and God, his dick was just as huge as you'd imagined, thick and pink, already leaking precum.

He placed the head of his cock on your lower lip, smearing it over your skin, and pulled back when you tried to wrap your lips around it.

"Careful, little thing," he hummed. "You take what we give you."

Dean chuckled.

"Hungry cockslut," he tilted his head, watching you. "She's got three cocks here for her and already wants more?"

You whined.

"Inside me," you begged, eyeing Castiel's cock hungrily. "Please."

Sam tightened his grip on your neck.

"Which one?" he spread his fingers inside you, already three fingers deep into you.

Castiel pushed the head of his cock into your lips.

"Don't suck," he commanded. "Just let it sit inside you."

You nodded obediently, and opened your jaw more, as his cock filled your mouth completely.

"Gorgeous," Dean hummed. "Fuck, want to take a picture."

"Don't," Sam moved his free hand down, squeezing your tit.

His brother scoffed.

"I'm not stupid, Sammy," he caressed your hair, pushing it back gently. "We need to ask when she's not all horned up. We need her brain to work when we ask hard questions."

Castiel pushed and pushed, and you carefully let yourself swallow him, your gag reflex worked out of you long ago.

"No gag reflex," he grunted.

Dean smiled largely.

"We found the gold at the end of the rainbow!"

"Are you done?" Sam pulled his fingers out. "We got holes to fill."

Sam squirted some more lube onto your ass, and Castiel pulled out of your mouth.

"Let's get to the love room first," he decided.

Love room?

Sam picked you up, and you just resigned to behave as he walked you to the end of the bus where a single giant bed - it had to be a King - waited, made and clean.

It wasn't a big room, it was literally just a bed with red sheets.

"Do you like it," Sam whispered into your ear. "We got it for little groupies like you."

. . .

“The Groupie” was posted on my Patreon in January 2023. To read it and its 5-part sequel now, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

Supernatural tags: @its-daydreamer23 @imagefanfictionlover @smalltowndivaj @tayrae515 @afanofmanystuffs @oneshoeshort @andkatiethings @wakanda-sometimes @akshi8278 @xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24

Supernatural Kinky Fics (+18): @stoneyggirl2 @phoenixblack89 @that-dark-girl

#tfw x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #castiel x reader #castiel #castiel smut #welldonebeca's the groupie

[paper-lilypie]

midnight snack

#cw suggestive #cw very suggestive #tfw you’ve been gone on a research trip for a week and come back late for a quick review session by the boardwalk #only to be immediately ✨welcomed✨ by one of your spouses #hope you weren’t busy or anything #you’re not moving for a while #fnaf #mermay #sun x reader #moon x reader #diver au #fanart

[screams-in-writing]

oops my hands slipped

what do you mean I’m obsessed over this man? I have no idea what you could possibly mean I think I like him…a normal amount. :)

A lazy day off would have been the same old, same old, had you not met a certain someone several months ago. A certain someone who appeared to have gotten it into mind that these days off were for the two of you to dote upon one another, not run errands.  

That certain someone sure did love having your full undivided attention on him; delighted in every second of it, come to think of it. The novelty of being in the company of someone who wanted to be there. And when his mind wasn’t on his never-ending quest for high-ratings and whatever else he had planned (that he had yet to reveal), he showered that attention back on you with an intensity that bordered on almost alarming.

Mr. Puzzles was quite an intense individual when he was focused.

Which was why you were currently stuck in bed in your pajamas at ten in the morning, the man alongside you clearly requiring attention from the way he’d been curled up around you from behind for hours and hours.

For the time being, he was quite content to use you as a body pillow while he hummed some new song he wanted to implement into some future show. It was a novelty to Mr. Puzzles to be integrated into a team, after being on his own tor so long trying to do everting himself. It was slow going to convince him it’d turn out well; at the very least, he hadn’t dragged anyone into the world he held within his head for…at least a month, if that. He could be very passionate if an idea grasped him in the moment.

The static currently emanating from Mr. Puzzles’ face was a nice, warm and ticklish sensation to you; likely why he’d craned down to press the screen to the nape of your neck after avoiding the hair this past hour.

Muffled laughter sounded over the squirm of surprise from you when his arms gently squeezed tighter around your middle.

There came a light, heavy two to the side of your neck.

Then again, slower this time.

Nuzzling was awkward but somehow, the man with a tv for a head was able to make it work, somehow managing to be even closer to you as he pressed in to firmly rub his screen into neck and occasionally, shoulder, through fabric.

A cheerful morning news show clip briefly played in response to you asking him if he was awake and not just laughing in his sleep with automated laughs.

Tease. 

With a wriggle backward, Mr. Puzzles reluctantly loosened his arms from around you to allow you to turn over in arms. From the expectant expression displayed on the screen tilted down toward you right now, Mr. Puzzles had an idea of what you wanted. 

After receiving silent consent in the form of leaning his body, and in turn, his tv head closer, you reached up to lightly trace fingers along his screen. The light touch made Mr. Puzzles’ face and multi-colored smile switch briefly into static gray and white fuzz before a pleased expression popped up with a great big doofy grin that hid the, as you liked to call it, ‘crazy unhinged madman that trapped people like puppets in his head’.

It was a work in progress, that.

No, you did not want Mr. Puzzles to trap your coworkers in the world inside the tv he held sway over, even if you couldn’t help but laugh at the antics initially as well as the absurdity of it being possible (right along with a man who had a tv for a head). Right before scolding the man and making him reluctantly relinquish the unwilling participants aka a small number of your coworkers.

Currently, Mr. Puzzles face sagged into your touch, hands bracing on either side of your shoulders to loom over you without falling over. A quick, sneaky turn of one of the dials on the left side of his head made him jerk his body to the side and back. But then with a sly look, indulged you by briefly playing some cheesy romcom on the screen before Mr. Puzzles’ made his move when one of your hands went to shoulder. 

Gently, carefully, he leaned his lanky body over so his screen could press to your face, making you close you eyes to enjoy the odd sensation of electrical currents and fuzzy static as a teasing voice spoke from the speaker of the tv.

“I see you, my newest star actor, quite close up. Have you anything to say to your…riveted watcher?”

“Your watcher of one for the morning?” Blindly reaching up, you turned the screen down a tad and planted a big ole kiss on the dumbass’ screen with an overdone ‘mwah’ sound. “How’s that for an answer, Mr. Host of one?”

Static sparked out the top of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna and the sides of his screen. His tv head briefly jerked back, revealed a slightly unhinged, if very intense look fixed directly on you.

“Quite the compliment, I’d say.” Mr. Puzzles purred, tone a little deeper as static overlapped his voice, digital eyes intent on you. “Would you care to do a repeat performance? To see if it was truly a 5-star rating for my show of one?”

You dragged this smug asshole man down by the shoulders to pepper his screen face in kisses while he mock-defended himself with dramatic flair. Then, all at once, Mr. Puzzles rolled the two of you over on the bed so you could sprawl yourself comfortably on top of him, playing with the collar of his dress shirt as he similarly fidgeted with your hair.

“Are you quite certain you don’t want to be my co-host?” Mr. Puzzles prodded with a wide screen across the screen.

“You asked me that already.” You pointed out, a faint shudder rolling through you as Mr. Puzzles leaned up to rest the side of his boxy tv head against your own to whisper smoothly, lowly, conspiringly.

“Until you give me a direct answer, my dear.”

#smg4 mr puzzles #Smg4 mr #smg4 mr puzzles x reader #x reader #come get y’all’s man #Forgive any mistakes I typed this on a phone at the end of the workday #TFW you realize you want to smooch a man with a tv for a head but not anyone in irl #my writing snippets

[espinosaurusrexex]

Flowers and Things

BuckyBarnes x female!reader

summary: Who would have thought that Bucky "The Winter Soldier" Barnes would ever have a crush on the sweet sweet team member Y/N? Well, certainly not Sam, which seemed like the perfect opportunity to tease him about it. Bucky is determined to buy Y/N a birthday gift, and his best friend's suggestions seem a little too stupid to pursue. Let's hope his own idea is good enough for her...

a/n: I needed more soft!Bucky and I felt like you did too

This is not really proof read so I might work it over again. All mistakes are my own.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: fluffy Bucky (he still got game but it’s cute now), swearing, a little angsty, more fluffff, Bucky and Sam being Bucky and Sam

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

Bucky hated it here. The scented candles mixed in one giant cloud of barf and the twinkle lights made him dizzy. He would have just gone to the florist and picked up a bouquet of flowers but when he had asked Sam about it, he had made him doubt that decision. So now he was here, watching yet another flashing ‘SALE’ sign hang over the aisle he passed. This one was filled with bedsheets. All shapes and sizes, as many fabrics as Bucky could only imagine. All feeling different and all having other patterns. He huffed again. This was ridiculous. Sam was the worst when it came to advice.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? It’s practical and sends a message!” 

“That's not what you buy a lady, Sam.”

“Oh really? Since when do you know that type of stuff?”

“I don't-“ Bucky pinched his nose and took a deep breath. “I just know that’s not the thing she wants okay?”

“Don’t tell me you know about things, Bucky. You are the only person I know that doesn’t have any things. So don’t come at me and tell me that I don’t know.”

He looked at him in disbelief. 

“I have things.” Bucky didn’t know why he was so offended. Bucky’s apartment was simple. He was a simple man. So he really didn't see anything wrong with it. He had things. He had a chair. A mug, he had found it down by the window of some old lady’s house. Yes, it was technically stolen but he had really needed something to drink out of in Romania and well, there was a fun cat on the mug, so he had taken it. He had a pillow - two actually. One on the chair and one on the floor, where his only blanked lay. He had one set of cutlery and he had a deep plate. He had A pair of boots and he had about 4 T-shirts, maybe 5 - oh and that red henley. He had a very cool leather jacket and he had some gloves. So yes, Bucky was a simple man. He had always been. Okay, maybe not that simple and maybe not always by choice, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“Like what?”

“I have a chair.” And it was true. Buck had one single chair in his living room. Because he was only one person. That was enough, right?

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Are you hearing yourself?”

“Sam!” The frustration between the two was clearly evident, but Bucky didn’t really know how to counter that. He just watched as his friend continued with the argument he was about to make.

“Bucky, you own the same shirt three times. And that’s it, you have no other shirts. Just believe me on this one and buy her bedsheets” That wasn’t true, he owned that red henley too... and he loved it.

“I’m not gonna buy her bedsheets.” Even if Bucky did not have any better idea, he for sure knew that this one was not up for debate. Fucking bedsheets. Who would give anyone bedsheets for their birthday if they weren’t their grandma?

“Whatever man, do what you want.” Sam waved off as he turned around and left the room with a shaking head.

“I will,” Bucky called after him with confidence. “Thanks for not helping!”

So apparently women didn't like flowers anymore. And since Sam was not of any help to suggest anything better, Bucky found himself in aisle six of the department store. Lost and frightened and annoyed at how complicated things were in the 21st century. 

He was browsing through a particular hideous set of garden gnomes when a chipper blonde approached him with a bright and flashing smile. 

“Can I help you with anything?” She asked and the joy in her eyes seemed to explode right out of her. To be honest, Bucky never understood how people could find happiness in approaching random strangers and bothering them when they clearly wanted to be alone. He wasn’t a fan of small talk, and he wasn’t too keen on talking to strangers, either.

“I... uh...” He was still a little startled by the woman’s sudden appearance and her confidence didn’t make it any easier to keep calm. She was determined to help him, Bucky could see it in her eyes, the way she held herself - everything screamed ‘happy customers’. “I don’t know?”

“Are you looking for anything specific?” She questioned further. His eyes wandered to her name tag: Terri. Yes, that fit. 

“I don’t know.” Bucky reiterated, suddenly very aware of how lost he was in the huge store.

“Well, who are you shopping for?” That smile didn’t falter. Bucky just blushed. He somehow felt busted, even though, what he was doing and who he was doing it for could concern that lady very little.

“Oh, I See.” The woman nodded knowingly. The smirk on her face grew even wider and the excitement in her eyes was unbelievably intruding. “A special someone.”

“She’s not-“ He huffed frustratedly before his shoulders slumped. He would certainly not tell this stranger about the girl he was planning to court, much less that this girl was a coworker and a friend and that his chance at making a move was dependent on the woman practically vibrating in excitement. “It’s complicated.”

“Don’t you worry. We’ll find the perfect makeup gift for her.” And without another word, Terri sped off through the aisles, and Bucky was forced to follow her. She led him past the horrible scented candles and through the bedsheets until she finally stopped in the middle of the store. A large glass case spread in a square in front of her and upon further investigation, Bucky could see the things beneath the surface twinkling in the harsh store light. 

His head grew even redder, the heat creeping down his neck and making his body sweat anxiously. Jewelry. He couldn’t get Y/N jewelry. That was way too much and way too suggestive for the relationship he had with her. Only boyfriends got women jewelry, and even though he wanted to be that one day, now was definitely not the right time.

The blonde clapped her hands. “There is not one set of earrings that has made me stay mad at my husband.” She reached down and held up one pair after the other as Bucky dug his hands deep into his pants pockets. Every time she held up another pair, he just shook his head embarrassed. 

This was not what he wanted, this was not what Y/N wanted, he thought while staring blankly ahead, smiling and shaking his head no every now and then to keep the store lady occupied. He had to get out of here - away from all the fancy, shiny things and the weirdly shaped garden items. So sure enough, when Terri reached down for the 7th time, he quickly turned around and bolted. Around the corner and straight towards the exit.

When the fresh air hit his face, he felt as though he could finally think clearly again. The heat in his head slowly subsided and he made his way down the street. His head held low, and his hands hidden in his jacket pockets, he traded along the sidewalk, past jewelry stores and bakeries, small boutiques, and restaurants. He shook his head. All Bucky had wanted was a simple gift for her. Something small and sweet. But all he had was a pile of frustration and a whole bunch of hustle and he was still standing with empty hands. Who would have thought that dating would become so difficult? Back in the day, he thought, he would have probably already asked her out. But he was a different man now. He didn’t mind that anymore, but it still took him a while to get back to his old ways.

Bucky was about to just head home, dwell in his anger and forget about the stupid idea to buy a gift for Y/N. Really, how could he have been so dumb from the start? There was probably nothing he would ever feel was good enough for her, because, in his eyes, she was the only perfect thing there was. Everything else had yet to live up to her. She also didn’t need anything. At least that was what she had always said when Tony started planning her birthday party after the meeting the other week. 

When he was about to cross the street, though, a red sign caught his eye, and Bucky suddenly knew that he had found it: The perfect thing.

—

Bucky fumbled with the blue bow tied around his gift. He was nervous, to say the least, and his right hand found comfort in the softness of the ribbon. He stood before Y/N’s door. It was her birthday - her actual birthday. The party would be this weekend, but Bucky didn’t want to give it to her then. He didn't want everyone to see him giving it to her either. It was late too. The small Avengers get-together had already ended well over an hour ago, and well, for some reason, Bucky had found himself in front of her door, moments away from knocking. 

That was, if his mind would finally stop taking his confidence away. What if she didn’t like it? What if she thought it was weird of him to get her something? He hadn’t thought about that before - he had been too occupied with finding something that would put that beautiful smile on her face. While his mind began to spiral into the infinite worry of what-if possibilities, Bucky didn’t notice the door before him open and a surprised Y/N standing before him with a load of laundry in her hand.

“Bucky?”

He looked up, the panic on his face doing little to hide and Y/N instantly set the basket aside. Her hands found his arms as she looked at him with round eyes. “Is everything okay?”

It took a couple seconds for Bucky to collect himself, but when he did his cheeks tinted in soft pink. “I got you something,” he confessed after ignoring the tingle her touch sent through his body and stretched his hand out to her, the light blue ribbon a little deformed from his constant fumbling second earlier. 

“Oh?” Her eyes gleamed in surprise. “That’s very sweet of you, Bucky.” Y/N took the gift from his hand, feeling the weight of it and silently guessing what he could have possibly gotten her. A smile spread about her lips at the sweet gesture. Bucky and Y/N were colleagues - friends. Maybe a little more, but nothing had ever happened. It didn’t go unnoticed, however, that they looked at each other in a very special kind of way. Always stealing glances when the other wasn’t watching. So much so, that it frustrated the whole team - they would never say anything though. The both of them were way too private for that, though it didn’t keep Sam from silently punching the air with a boyish grin after Bucky had asked him what he should give Y/N for her birthday. 

Y/N gestured for him to enter, and closed the door behind him when he did. When Bucky stood a little lost in her living room, she began to unpack the gift. The soft ripping of paper filled the silence and Bucky nervously wrung his hands at the sight of it. Y/N’s eyes lit up when she finally revealed the item and when they did, Bucky’s nervousness washed away. 

“You remembered?” She looked up from the book in her hand. The deep green cover with the golden font glimmered under her delicate fingers as she stroked it.

Bucky treaded from one foot to the other, his hand finding its way to his neck. “Of course I remembered.” A shy smile snuck on his face.

“You know Bucky is a nerd?” Sam teased over her shoulder after stealing some grapes from the bowl in her lap.

Y/N’s head piqued up in interest, watching the confused brunette at the other side of the sofa. Bucky shot Sam a disappointed look, equally confused as to what he was hinting towards.

“I found out that he read ‘The Hobbit’ when it first came out. He’s literally the #1 fan.” The smug smile on his face turned sheepish at the bad joke. 

Bucky huffed, waiting for another teasing remark, but it never came.

“It’s actually on my reading list, too. But I haven’t found one with a pretty cover for my bookshelf yet.” Her smile was shy as she searched Bucky’s eyes and found them with an adoring look glazed over his pupils. 

Sam just watched the interaction, feeling partly accomplished, and party frustrated that his plan to embarrass Bucky didn’t work.

“I don’t know if you still want to get into it, but if you have any concerns, I’m always happy to tell you the story... I know the book can be a little slow in parts.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears when she looked up again. Her lip quivered before she pulled them into a smile. She placed the book on the table and slung her arms around him “Thank you so much, Buck,” she mumbled into his shoulder and Bucky grew warm from her soft voice. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he mumbled back, inhaling the scent of her hair and finding comfort in it.

Her frame pulled back, and Bucky couldn’t help but wish for her to get back into his arms. “Like it? I love it. This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Oh, I can’t wait to read it.” She jumped up and down before admiring it again. “Maybe we can watch the movies together after?” 

His heartbeat quickened by the second. His hand grew all clammy as the excitement spread through his body. “I would love that.” He really did, but at the same time, a nervousness overtook his senses he had never felt before.

“Oh great!” Y/N turned around and admired the book again. She stopped for a minute and then she looked at him again, a timid look on her face. She was just as nervous about this. 

“We could read it together, too...” The intrigue on Y/N’s face nudged him to go on further. “You know... to get through the slow parts.” He smiled shyly. “Just if you want to of course.” 

Her eyes brightened at the sweet suggestion. “I would love that,” she copied. And after a moment of silence, as the both of them stood in awkwardly frozen in her living room, she spoke again. “Do... uh. Do you have time now?”

“Yes!” That came out way more excited than he intended, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind. She sped off to her kitchen, putting on the kettle and preparing two mugs while trying to mask her excitement. Meanwhile, Bucky tried the same thing in her living room. He looked around and let the cozy dark green paint of the wall behind the fireplace overtake his thoughts. Y/N’s home was just that: a home. Other than his apartment, which was scarcely decorated. And Bucky found himself feeling homey at the sight of picture frames and plants squeezed between books and magazines. Maybe Sam was right... maybe he didn’t have things. At least not enough to bring him joy. But before he could grieve the bare walls of his apartment he would likely be returning to tonight, Y/N stepped back into the room, two steaming cups of tea in her hands.

“I hope green is okay?”

“Perfect,” he grinned. 

Y/N set the mugs down on her coffee table and settled on the most comfortable-looking couch Bucky had ever seen. Then she patted the cushions next to her and Bucky happily followed her silent invitation. He took the book from the table and settled next to her, his back leaning back and being entirely consumed by the pillows. 

“Are you comfortable?” She asked.

“More than comfortable.” Y/N smiled happily as she held his stare for a moment.

Then Bucky cleared his throat and opened the book to the first chapter.

“An unexpected party.” He stopped as Y/N shifted and laid her head on his shoulder. A smile spread on his face when he felt her soft hair tickling his neck, her eyes lingering on the page before closing with a content smile. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asked.

“More than comfortable,” Y/N snickered, ready to be consumed by his deep and calming voice again.

Bucky’s eyes found the page again. He took a deep breath to contain his excitement for her cuddling up to him. He pushed off his shoes and placed his feet on the table, and then he continued: “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort...”

Wanna be added to the taglist?

#megs imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #the winter solider imagine #bucky x reader #soft!bucky #tfws #bucky barnes #marvel au #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #captain america imagine #x female reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic

[i-read-and-write-barely]

Scarves

You crochet scarves for the members of TFW, how do they react?

This is written more so as headcannons. All the characters are separate.

Day 3. Scarves.

Dean Winchester.

You crocheted a scarf that references Baby, the colors are mostly black and white and there's a mini impala on each end of the scarf.

Dean absolutely adores it, when he first receives it he's stunned for a little while. But he does immediately put it on.

He starts bragging to anyone who will listen. Which means Sam and Castiel get an earfull. All they hear for at least 24 hours is how amazing you are.

Doesn't care if the edges are a little wonky, or if the stitches are a little uneaven. He is positively smitten with what you've made. Although he does do a good job at pretending he isn't over the moon because of such a simple gift.

Even when the cold season is over he tries to get away with wearing it, until you tell him he's likely to get a heat stroke then he begrudgingly puts it away, but he does keep it near him on the off chance he finds a colder area.

Starts using it as a comfort item, whenever you or he is in a stressful situation he keeps the scarf as near to him as he can as a reminder. You don't even think he realizes that he's doing it.

Sometimes since he frequently goes out to eat fast food stains might get on the scarf, he does his best to clean it though. He even asks Sam for cleaning tips.

If anyone dares to try and insult or be rude about your creation he's throwing hands. No hesitation. He won't kill them but no one gets away with insulting a gift from you.

He might use the scarf sometimes to pull you closer to him, he's not much of a fan of pda but when he gets a chance and feels comfortable he'll lasso you closer and give you a kiss.

All in all he's more of a show not tell kinda guy, he may not verbally say it much, but he does show how much he loves your gift.

Sam Winchester.

You make a scarf that is marked to the brim with wards against everything supernatural that you know.

Sam immediatly adores it, although if something is wrong with the wards he will point it out to you, just for future reference.

On more than one occasion that scarf has pulled him out of a bad situation. You are more than happy to remind him of this if he ever tries to nitpick the stitches.

Despite the small flaws he wears your gift with pride. And if you ever need advice on anything crochet he is happy to assist, he'll learn a whole knew stitch just to try and help you.

Offers to make you a scarf as well if you want to go out matching together, the scarf he makes for you is... functional. But the lines are just a touch wonky. Not that you mind.

Togther you both make a pattern for others to follow in case they ever need an all in one ward. And every so often you might meet a fellow hunter who has a similar scarf to you two.

On occasion a creature (mostly demons) might try to insult your gift. They are quickly delt with. Sometimes with the demon trap on the scarf.

If the scarf ever tears or gets dirty Sam will find a way to repair it. And if he can't then he goes to you and asks of you can make him a new one. You obviously do and he is very careful with the second one. (Although he never throws away the first scarf.)

The scarf is typically never very far away from Sam at any point in time, especially in the colder months. But in summer Sam will pack it away, only to immediatly bring it back at the first sign of a chill.

Overall he may be a little picky over your work but you will know he adores it whole heartedly.

Castiel.

You make Castiel a scarf that has a winged cat on it. For no other reason than cats are cute, and wings are pretty.

Cas is initially confused. As an angel he doesn't really need to worry about getting cold so making him a scarf isn't required.

However he does appreciate the gift and understands it as a mark of your affection. So he wears it with pride. Even in the summer. You'll have to argue with him if you want him to take it off when warm days hit.

Even if your stitches are lopsided or really tight on one side and fairly loose on the other, Cas won't notice. All he sees is your love, tightly bundled into one woven object.

If the scarf ever gets damaged or dirtied, he'll use his grace to return it to a normal state. Under no circumstance shall he ever allow it to be destroyed.

Sometimes if you're cold he'll wrap the scarf around both your necks, (being careful to not accidentially strangle you in the process.) as you can imagine this does look a little funny but it does make you laugh, so it's a win in Castiel's book.

While he might not understand everything about human traditions he does try to make you a gift in exchange. A tiny replica of the cat with wings that's on his scarf. It's a little wonky but it's adorable and you treasure it fully.

Cas "accidentially" brags a lot to Dean about the gift. Talking about the craftmanship, the love, and the warm fuzzy feeling it gives him to wear.

If anyone tries to take the scarf away they immediatly get reprimanded. No one gets to take what you made for him.

Overall Cas loves your work, and he only sings the highest of praise for it.

#spnoctober #spn #supernatural #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #tfw x reader #team free will x reader #tfw spn #Dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #Castiel x reader

[proverbsss]

reading you right (father paul hill/john pruitt x reader) -nsfw

Father Paul Hill, Midnight Mass

prompt(s): "Me. You. Bed. Now." [from this post]

[Pt. 2 Out Now!! Linked Here :)]

anon: I had a normal amount of fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) i wanna do a pt. 2 because ofc i do,, honestly I got a lil hot n bothered lmao

notifs: paul hill is a tease!! ; shoe-grinding ; fluffy smut ; hierophilia ; you're father paul's dirty little secret ; denial ; reader begging ; reader's down HORRENDOUS ; terms used: good girl, slutty thing, pet

"You've been lying there moaning for ten minutes." Father Paul chuckles, trying to focus on his reading.

You feel your leg twitch as you lay on your stomach, looking a bit dazed across the room. A giggle escapes you. In your mind's eye a constant stream of images plays- every dirty thing you’ve done with Father Paul in the last 48 hours, a rare weekend’s reprieve from prying Beverly Keane, sitting bedside with her sister or aunt or who-the-hell cares on the mainland. It was too easy to sneak into the house behind St. Patrick’s, and too goddamn pleasurable to leave after the first night. A delightful ease of domesticity has settled over the two of you. And you’re even more whipped for the Father than you were when this whole messy arrangement began.

"I can't help it-"

"It's understandable to whine like a whore while I'm still inside you, but cooing like that when I'm not even touching you is a little ridiculous." Smug, he licks his finger and turns a page. "A man's ego can only grow so big."

“What are you reading?” you ask, completely uninterested, and your voice betrays it. You might enjoy a good book now and again, but something worlds more tempting is sitting before you. In his jeans and tee shirt, only his glossy ankle boots remaining, Paul is a rare sight out of uniform, like something sent from heaven. Or Hell. Both, somehow.

“You asked me that fifteen minutes ago. Or did you forget already?” He shoots you a disapproving, but playful look. He can hardly resist you more than you can him. Hardly. There is that last smidgeon of reserve that Paul prides himself on. He can’t be bothered to think of you as a sin, because life’s become far, far more complicated in the last few months than any one man can hold in his head, and because it feels like paradise to touch you.

Caught in your inattention, you abandon the ruse of asking about his book. "You fucked me too good...." You whine.

"You're going to complain about it?" He laughs at you.

"You're laughing at me." 

"Of course I'm laughing at you," he admonishes. Not to be taken in by your wiles, Paul's eyes trace the paragraph he's started unsuccessfully three times.

"You whine before I fuck you, you whine while I fuck you, and you whine after I've fucked you. You're silly."

The vision renews itself in your mind of last night creeping around in here, your excitement waiting in the antechamber of St. Patrick’s late at night, Paul sneaking up on you in the dark and taking you in that muggy little den where they keep the wine and spare things. You want him to grunt against your ear like that again, to fuck you like he needs you in order to breathe.

"I'm not silly!" You gasp out. He hears the difference in your voice and scans your body with his eyes. Grinning. He licks his bottom lip and pretends the fool. “I want it, please, I want it, I don’t caaaare…” Your caterwauling would be annoying if it wasn’t so bone-deep genuine. Paul could probably keep you here forever as a pet, a secret from innocuous parishioners, visitors from all walks of life, and you’d be satisfied as long as he used you from time to time. Fed you.

“Oh, that’s undignified.” He smiles, turns the page and hopes he can pick up without the aid of the passage his mind simply refused to retain.

You get on all fours and start to crawl over to him. You tug on the leg of his jeans, utterly debased.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” his tongue flicks and flutters around the word in a musical way that you know you could find better uses for. You nod. His voice. He could guide you anywhere with it. To make things worse, he imitates you. The facsimile of your lust in his voice is enough to make you jump him. “‘Father, I can't focus on my book....Father, please fuck me with your fingers, I can't without it, I need it...I told you pack things to stay because I imagined I’d be enjoying some downtime other than between my sheets.'"

You bite your lip, the adoring way you look up at him unfairly reminiscent of Biblical portraiture, the Madonna (too ineffably ironic), Saint Lucia, devout, suppliant little succubi. Paul’s heart breaks a little, and his cock twitches with interest, which he endeavors to suppress. 

“What’s that look for, child?” He plays up the religious bent of your dynamic, something that presses inexpressibly sinful and delicious buttons in your dirty mind. 

"I do need you."

You pout. Your words with Paul repeating them was enough to rev your proverbial engine. You shift just the littlest bit, yet the friction of the floor underneath you is enough to tease out a whimper. Not totally on purpose, but not totally by accident. John chuckles again. 

“Present tense?” He pretends to turn a page, but he’s not reading a damn thing now.

"I need you all the time you're not in me.” It’s filthy, but it feels true in these moments when all the thoughts are leaving your head empty. 

He smiles one of his private smiles. His eyelids crinkle as he reaches up to scratch his cheek. "Let's not be pornographic, huh?"

"I wanna fuck again..."

"What else is new?"

"You've ruined me." He looks at you then like you’re something to eat. The book is shut and put down. You have your beloved hot priest’s attention. His eyes ask, smoldering, what will you do now you have it?

“You have my boot. Or aren’t you smart enough to get yourself off.” His tone shifts and a shadowy, serious dominance settles in his countenance. Every behavior, every quirk of his expression, curve of his smile, owns and owns you. He may plead and beg to bury his head between your thighs from time to time, on one occasion he may have shown up at your door, his satchel a deceptive front for rope and ribbon, which you were to restrain and blindfold him with. Life’s too short for dynamics that don’t shift and change like the tides. But in this moment, this energy, you are his. And he intends to impress that upon you.

You gape at him just a moment, heady lust clouding your already addled brain. Then slowly, carefully, you adjust your position, grab the upper part of Paul’s calf, and hoist your lower body up onto his shoe, your pelvic bone bumping his shin. Any hesitations or embarrassment that linger in you drown in the deeper, sweeter excitement of feeling some real friction as you roll your hips. Oh. God.

This might be the senseless, reckless need talking, but fuck. Just the sensation of the toe of his shoe right between your thighs, exactly where you need it, makes you feel a little bit crazy. You look up at him in awe, and thank God he’s not picked up his book again but instead is sitting comfortably, his gaze dropped low to watch you, his groin thrusting the tiniest bit forward at nothing, too much nothing. He groans, and you chase your pleasure like a thing possessed.

Words slip out of your mouth without a shred of logic behind them, and Paul tells you to repeat yourself. He bites his bottom lip as he watches you. “Hello? Still a brain in there?"

“I said you make me so sensitive,” you mumble, finding a new groove in the contour of his shoe, where it meets his ankle, and leaning on his knee, shaking, groping for his thighs, all involuntarily. Your dripping, dripping on his shoe, and the thought of how uncivilized that is makes Paul bite his fist.

"Uh huh, so it's all my fault, then."

"Yes..."

"Yes, 'what'?"

"Yes it's all your fault, Father."

“It’s my fault you’re going to cum on my shoe?”

You whine again. Your soul’s leaving your body, want spreads through every inch of your body, intense and blinding, high, so high.

“C’n I cum, please, can I cum?” You pant, feeling his hands wrap around yours, warm and loving. 

“Look at me, pet.” He orders. You obey. His irises envelop you. You steady yours on them, trying to get a grip, breath filling your belly and leaving your parted lips in rapid gasps. “No.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise. Disappointment isn’t the word for it, desire lets itself out as a sound. You slow down, somewhere in a high place you hear him say:

“Stop grinding, slutty thing. Your Father told you ‘no.’”

You sink against him, laying your head on one of his thighs. He kisses the top of your head, and murmurs, “Good girl. Good girl, good.”

Fireworks are setting off under your skin, your thighs are trembling, every bit of you is sticky. “That wasn’t easy, I bet.” He says, voice condescending and sweet, but every bit as needy as you are. You make another noise in response. 

“I’m not done with you, you know,” he takes your chin into one of his hands, lifts your head. He kisses you again, with a fierceness that just sharpens your feeling. “I’m not even close to done with you.” He rests his in your neck, kisses you once, twice, up your jaw, on your cheeks, the ear he can reach. He bites your earlobe and almost hisses, “Me. You. Bed. Now.”

[Pt. 2 Out Now!! Linked Here :)]

#midnight mass #john pruitt #father paul hill #thirsting hours #monsignor pruitt #monsignor john pruitt #father paul #fic tag #midnight mass fic #father paul x reader #hamfam smut #my blabber #tfw you can't even write your smut drabble well bc you're feral for the man you're writing about

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Spaghetti

Sam: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Dean: Put spaghetti in it.

Sam: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Y/N: Put spaghetti in it.

Sam: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Charlie: Put spaghetti in it.

Sam: I am no longer taking suggestions.

#spn incorrect quotes #spn crack #winchester bros #dean winchester #incorrect spn quotes #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #spn imagine #source: incorrect quotes generator #reader insert #female reader #male reader #gn reader #charlie x reader #charlie bradbury #dean x reader #tfw #team free will #spn #spn gifs #incorrect supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural #superman x reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Bed Time

Team Free Will & Winchester little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you have a bet going with your friends to see who can stay up the longest, but Team Free Will isn’t having it

Note: over a liter = like 3-4 cans

36 hours.

That’s how long you’d been up, and you were prepared to double it if need be. You’d already beaten out half of your friend group, and you had a feeling the others would crack soon enough.

One of your friends—you were so delirious now that you couldn’t remember which one—had made the brilliant suggestion that all of your friends should try to see who could stay up the longest.

You were used to getting minimal amounts of sleep in your chaotic Winchester life, so you readily agreed.

But it wasn’t nearly as easy as you thought it would be.

The longer you stayed awake, the more you started to realize just how awful Sam must have felt when he had Lucifer keeping him from sleeping. And this was just you and your friends doing a stupid challenge; you couldn’t imagine how he must have felt.

Still, between the lack of sleep and horrible memories flooding back of your big brother in pain, this challenge was turning out to be awful. But still, you were stubborn; you wanted to win.

Fortunately for you, your brothers and your angel friend Castiel still hadn’t discovered what you were doing. You didn’t think they’d approve of this less-than-healthy bet.

It was getting harder to hide it from them as you found yourself chugging energy drinks to stay awake. You threw them away in your room so no one would see, but they weren’t idiots; you looked almost as tired as you felt.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Of course Sam would be the first one to call you out.

“I’m fine,” you said immediately.

“She has over a liter of Red Bull in her system,” Castiel spoke up. You glared at him.

“What?” Dean asked. “You cramming for a test or something, kid?”

“Even if you are,” Sam interrupted. “That isn’t good for you.”

“She hasn’t slept in thirty-seven hours and fourteen minutes,” Castiel added.

“Cas,” you groaned. “Seriously?”

“You what?” Dean demanded.

“That’s abnormal, is it not?” Castiel put in, confused.

“Yes, incredibly,” Sam huffed. “And unhealthy. Kid, what’s going on?”

“I’m not tired?” You suggested.

“Try again,” Dean said.

“Fine,” you sighed. “Me and my friends have a bet going to see who can stay up the longest.”

“Oh brother,” Dean huffed.

“Y/N, this isn’t healthy. You’ve gotta call it off.”

“But I’ve almost won!” You protested.

“Bed,” Dean demanded. “Go, now. Tell your friends the game is over.”

You groaned, and were just starting to turn around when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, and a wide grin spread across your face.

“I won!” You cheered.

“Bed!” Dean ordered, snatching your phone from your hands. “Scoot!”

“I just have to tell my friends—“

“Sleep!” Sam added.

You slumped your shoulders and started for your room, calling over your shoulder.

“Can you text the group chat that I won?”

The boys response came in unison.

“Go to sleep!”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #the winchesters #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #team free will & reader #team free will x reader #team free will #tfw & reader #tfw x reader #tfw #supernatural sam #supernatural #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x winchester!reader #cas x reader #castiel x reader #spn cas

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Returning the Favour

Aesop sends his lover a rather lascivious letter.

Sequel to A Lesson in Sensuality

I would be absolutely lost without my fabulous consultant, partner in crime and amazing friend @tea-withjamandbread

A few people asked me to write this fic in which Aesop replies to MC's erotic letter to him, and I couldn't resist. I just adore writing and reading about Aesop polishing his wand uwu

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

Returning the Favour (4.5k words)

tw: explicit sexual content, male masturabtion, vaginal sex, teacher-student relationship (reader is an adult)

Aesop Sharp was usually the one claiming his sweetheart's firsts. He was her first real love. Her first French kiss. He was the first man she spent her night with. And he was the first man to have ever been allowed to touch her as a lover. The first man whom she made love to. He hoped he’d remain the only man to have been given such privileges.

While she wasn’t by far his first, the Ravenclaw felt like the only one that mattered.

However, every now and then, the Professor would get surprised, as the young woman seemed rather determined to have some of his firsts as well.

For example, the first time he ever received an erotic letter. 

That is, when he and Dinah Hecat were young and in love, they too would exchange letters, little notes of love, in which they too alluded to the anticipation of being in each other’s arms once more, but never anything quite as… explicit, as what his young sweetheart wrote to him. Not that he was complaining, goodness no. Quite the opposite. The letter caught him by surprise, he didn’t expect it in the least, but sweet Merlin, he knew that he would treasure it forever. 

When he received it, it had been some time since they last lay together, and his body’s yearning for hers decided to surface like hot lava erupting from a volcano. Her delicious words and his mind’s picture of her touching herself while writing to him, thinking of him, imagining it was him whose hands caressed her heated young body, brought him to his own peak quickly, and it was a pleasure more intense than he’d ever experienced from his own hand before. 

Then there was another first, the first time he ever made love to someone in his workspace, namely his office. The way his heart skipped at least three beats when she let her robes slide off her shoulders, revealing her delicate form to him and the chill of the dungeons. She made him lose control then, and he took her right upon his desk, rough, wild, primal. She made it a point to put her hair up in his class then, wearing the mark he left on the sensitive skin on her neck proudly, for everyone to see that she had been claimed. Her little smiles and secret winks drove him mad and made him want to kiss that little smile off her beautiful face right then, no matter the consequences. He managed to hold himself back, but not without covertly requesting her presence in his office once again after curfew.

He managed to grade several essays while she sat in his lap, kissing slowly along his neck and cheeks, their bodies connected intimately. Being enveloped by her tight heat while he worked turned even a task as tedious as this into a lovely experience. She’d occasionally roll her hips ever so slightly, teasingly so, making his left hand squeeze her hip tighter, his own hips moving a little in reply. However, there was only so much time he could spend like this before craving more, and this time, after he safely put his quill and the essays away farther on the desk, he leaned against the backrest and let her take the reins, bounce atop him sitting in his chair however she liked, just happy to be the instrument that brought her pleasure and of course revel in the bliss she bestowed upon him as well.

It was this lovely memory that flowed through his head while she claimed another one of his firsts - writing an erotic letter.

It was only fair, Aesop supposed.

He wondered if she too would touch herself while she read the letter, if she would find herself some privacy and tease herself to his words. He wasn’t sure if he had the same way with words as her, but once the thought was born, he couldn’t stop it from coming onto his mind every so often. And so, one afternoon, as he sat alone in his chambers by the desk in his sitting room, he decided to grab a spare piece of parchment and dip his quill into the ink bottle.

‘Dearest beloved,’

He started with. He took to addressing her as such in his little clandestine love letters, covertly exchanged hidden away within the quizzes he handed back to the students, or hidden inside her robes before she left his chambers. He considered what to write next - he didn’t want the letter to be too crude, but not too vague either. In the end he decided to try and focus on the recent memory that prompted this idea to write to her in the first place.

‘As I sit here in the comfort of my chambers, they feel rather cold without you here and in my arms where you belong. I haven’t ever noticed before just how quiet they are without your soft voice filling them, be it your well thought of words, your addictive laughter, or the breathy sounds of your pleasure. I get drunk on it like it was the finest of Firewhiskeys, and I am desperately addicted to it by now. My sheets and pillows are cold without your beautiful body warming them up, and while your heady scent lingers to them, it brings me little solace. In fact, it rather feels like a stab that there’s something definitely missing. I cling to the sweet smell of your hair upon the pillow, the natural smell of your body mixed with your perfume as if sewn into the blankets I rest under. As if I had a huge bubbling cauldron of Amortentia in my rooms. 

Each time we’re forced to part feels like a little heartbreak, but then each time we once more find our way into each other’s embrace feels like a breath of new life entering my lungs. I can feel my heart thumping under my shirt as it pumps wildly to deliver this breath through my entire bloodstream, from my arteries to the smallest of capillaries.’

The potions master felt the way his heart purred as if agreeing with the words he wrote. 

‘And, of course, during evenings like these, I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about how much my hands crave to touch you, the entirety of you. I want to comb my fingers through your beautiful hair, and caress your cheeks, reddened under the rumbling passion that the collision of our very existences is. To see your eyes imprisoned by my own, staring intensely, unwilling to miss a thing is like a delicious dance. Or is it you that is hypnotising me? The one who’s eyes caught mine and are forbidding them from looking away? I find that I don’t care. I don’t care as long as I am allowed to take you into my arms and press you against me, feel our hearts pound against each other in our chests, feel our breaths growing short in one another’s mouths.

To be inside of you is like being home, I feel like I belong there absolutely, that there’s no other place where I am more meant to be. The feeling of your plush walls spreading to accommodate me, hot and tight and wet, is the definition of heaven for me. To be able to dips my head and draw nonsensical patterns along your delicate skin with my wicked tongue, to be able to capture between my lips the pink peaks of your breasts and worry at them until you’re sighing my name, twitching around my cock, yearning for more, is absolute rapture for me.’

Aesop’s left hand slid off the desk on its own accord to palm at the growing bulge in his trousers. He laid the quill down momentarily to squeeze his covered tip between two of his fingers, before stroking himself softly through the fabric, eyes closed and mind’s eye filled once more with the delicious picture of his young lover gripping onto his shoulders and using them for leverage so that she could fuck herself on his shaft, her body aching for him, craving to be filled. The damp sounds of skin on skin and their pleasured groans growing in volume, reverberating off the cold stone walls made his hand grip the now fully hard manhood. 

Heavens… Aesop understood having gotten excited and even being able to finish from reading her letter, but did not expect his body to get this interested while writing his own. Although, it shouldn’t come as too large of a surprise, it was not the first time he went stiff in his trousers when writing to her after all. That first time he felt ashamed of himself, but now the only things he felt were excitement, yearning and pleasure as he thumbed at his concealed erection and imagined her watching him do so while also touching herself. 

He forced himself to pick the quill up again and observed where he left. 

When he began writing once more, his script was nowhere as neat as it was when he started writing the letter. 

‘The image of you irreversibly getting lost in your pleasure, the very moment that brilliant head of yours turns off, and you’re suddenly reduced to a purely carnal being chasing your peak is burned into the inside of my eyelids, and I see it every time I close my eyes. So beautiful. The very picture of want, of femininity, of love and passion, of the very thing that makes us human, so primal and raw, and so real, it almost makes me weep with joy, especially when it’s me who aids you in reaching this state. I love doing so. With my fingers, stroking you inside and out, I do feel like the virtuoso you called me, I feel like a master musician playing the most precious and complex among instruments, making it produce the most sweetest symphonies, ones that play throughout the whole of the universe that’s hiding within your eyes.’

Aesop looked at his own words. He didn’t quite know where they came from, he was unused to his head forming things he would consider… quite beautiful if he read them somewhere. But then again, perhaps it was not his head forming them.

‘And then to be allowed to taste you, it is almost overwhelming. As a Muggle writer once said, l’appétit vient en mangeant, appetite comes with eating, and he couldn’t have been more right. Your taste is addictive, heavenly. Each time I taste you, I feel like I never want to taste anything else. I crave to feast on you like a man starved, because that is exactly what I am. I want to drink from your most secret, most precious jewel, tease at your sweet folds and delicate pearl until you cry my name. That first time you allowed me to witness the pleasure my mouth brought to you I marvelled at my self control. Just the sight of you, nude and spread out for me, bared of your inhibitions, your juices glistening upon my lips was enough to make me feel like I might explode.’

The potions master put his quill down once more to undo his now very constrictive trousers and pants. His hard prick sprung out, and Aesop shivered as the cool air of his chambers made contact with the hot skin. He slowly pulled his foreskin back just as a droplet of clear precum wept out of his slit. He took a hold of himself softly, teasing at the aroused organ. His sweetheart’s hand was so much smaller than his own, yet she knew exactly how to touch him to make him see stars, make him crazy for more. The first time she tasted him, Aesop could see in her eyes that she too found the practice and the taste strangely addictive. 

He grew so absolutely unused to someone seeing him as… beautiful. However, when they rested next to each other, spent and sated, he felt the way she took him in entirely, like he was a work of art. His cheeks burned under her admiring gaze, he didn’t agree with her assessment at all, especially when he saw the epitome of true beauty in her. 

‘You are so beautiful when you bear my signature,’ he wrote then, having spat into his palm and begun stroking himself slowly, ‘the imprint of my teeth on your elegant, swan-like neck, the bruises of your hips the perfect copies of my digits. I am so disgustingly selfish, my love, but I love it when your perfect body carries the signs of our shared passion, and it makes that dark beast inside of me purr in satisfaction to see you flaunting them, like you did in my class the other day. And when you mark me as your own, when you leave crescent moon cuts upon my back, when I can feel where your nails scratched me the previous night, that delicious sting under my shirt, I feel alive, I feel that I belong absolutely.

Entering you, settling within your body and your arms is an experience that could never be described by a word as simple and short as ‘sex’, and I know you feel the same way. The moment we get connected as intimately as two humans possibly can, I know you wonder at the simple action as much as I. It’s a gesture that’s so familiar by now, and yet it always feels like the very first time. I didn’t think I’d ever experience such intense passion again, I once more feel like a young man in your arms, guided by love, by want, by scorching need. Each time I bury my prick inside of your velvety depths and it forces that little sound out of your mouth, I could laugh at the beauty of it all, gently pry those delicious sounds from your lips and give you my own in exchange.

Having your warmth and tightness around me, simply just enveloping me like it was those few evenings ago in my office while your delicate lips pressed against my neck was probably the most enjoyable time I ever had grading, and you made it quite difficult to be as strict as I usually am. I hope I’ll soon be able to repay you for this lovely experience.

And then submitting myself to you entirely, you’re just so spectacular. You are like a flower in full bloom, unashamedly indulging in your pleasure atop me, beautiful and confident, and yet so feminine and delicate, watching your sweet core accept me entirely with each stroke, moulding for me, squeezing me inside with your enjoyment-’

Merlin!

Aesop was pumping himself steadily now, his glans weeping more droplets of his arousal. In his mind he saw her like it was only yesterday when she shyly gathered one of those drops onto her finger to taste him. He truly was quite impressed that he didn’t come on the spot right then, her determination and the want to explore their newly discovered world of pleasure despite her lack of experience still made him throb violently. 

He hoped she’d be able to read what he wrote, seeing as his writing was quite messy now.

‘And then when your back finally arches, when I feel your climax wash over you, feel your grip on me become so hard it’s nearly painful, I lose myself as well, I succumb fully to that wild thing we all carry with us, and I need you, I need to fill you and make you mine, join you in your bliss. In that exact moment I can’t see how selfish I’m being, keeping you all for myself, I only see your body trembling from gratification, your flushed cheeks, your hands cramping up on whatever it is they’re holding onto for dear life, and I see myself plunging into you over and over again, chasing my own high, which, truth be told, is never too far away whenever I am with you.’

And it wasn’t far away now either,  Aesop could feel the first tugs of an approaching orgasm as he pulled at his leaking cock, imagining his sweetheart coming apart atop him in a flurry of gasps and moans, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, her body tensing up and her face screwed up in pleasure.

A couple of more fast strokes and quiet grunts later, Aesop used his free hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a simple cotton handkerchief, which he pressed against his tip right as he felt the first wave coming to crash over him. “Mhm!”

The potions master closed his eyes, giving himself to the climax. His stroking slowed down as he released a few thick spurts of cum into the soft fabric. He sagged down against the backrest of his chair, breathing heavily through his nose, letting the relief wash over him. His orgasm was hardly as intense as it had been when he read her letter, and neither could hold a candle to actually being with her, but he still felt nicely spent and relaxed. After a while, he wiped his softening shaft and his hand onto the clean part of the handkerchief and tossed the crumpled up fabric on the ground to deal with later.

His eyes still closed, he enjoyed the lingering pleasure, blindly tucking himself back into his trousers and pants. “Bloody hell,” he said quietly to himself, running his hand through his hair. He looked at the parchment before him. He knew she’d be able to tell exactly what he was doing when writing the letter. Aesop picked up the quill once more, wetting it in ink.

‘Coming into my own hand hardly feels as good as coming inside of your body, and feeling your walls accept my spunk, feeling it mingling with the proof of your own pleasure, feeling it dripping out of you and then seeing it as well. It makes me want to crawl down between your legs and make you come apart for me all over again, feast on the product of our love and our passion.’

Aesop felt himself stir again, but knew he wouldn’t get fully hard for quite a bit. Yet, the mental image of himself indulging in his depravity sent pleasurable sparks through him. He was certain his lover would very much enjoy it as well. 

‘But until we’re able to once again seek the comfort and pleasure of each other’s arms, all we’ve got are the sweet fantasies. 

I love you with my entire heart, I desire you every waking moment, and I cannot wait to gather you in my embrace and drink from your lips. Come to me soon, my sweet tempretess.

Only yours,

Aesop.’

The potions master read through his work. It was… maybe slightly chaotic, but then again, so were his thoughts when his body lit up with need for her. Understandable, seeing as most of the blood usually pumping to his brain was needed entirely elsewhere during these moments. A momentary feeling of anxiety and self-consciousness took hold of him though; would she like the letter? Wouldn’t she find it too crude, or simply too much? Yes, the letter he got from her was very enticing and explicit, but he still felt like this was different.

But then he saw the image of her in his mind, the smile that graced her lips in his classroom as she proudly showed off the mark he left on her neck, the way she moved when she knew he was watching her, the way she ‘dropped’ her quill on the ground when he was behind her, and gave him a view that made him be glad to have been so close to his desk, so that he was able to sit down. 

No… Aesop was sure that she’d like the letter. And he found himself once more imagining her touching herself as she read it. Should he perhaps use his cologne on the parchment, so that it smelled like him? He grinned. But how should he send it? He wasn’t currently grading any of her quizzes or essays to hand it back with, and he hasn’t borrowed any of her books lately. 

As he cast the scouring charm on the handkerchief before he’d forget it and one of the house elves found it (Aesop cringed), he suddenly got an idea. Of course!

There was one place he knew his sweetheart frequented every day, to take care of the beasts she rescued, gather the ingredients she grew and bottle the potions she brewed there. Aesop was certain that Deek, who too spent a lot of time there, would be able to execute these tasks as well, but his young lover insisted to ‘be meticulous in her efforts’. Aesop chuckled. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy her heeding his advice.

He sealed the parchment with a wax stamp bearing his initials Dinah gifted him for his 30th birthday. Boy, did that feel like a lifetime ago. After making sure he was presentable and that not a single drop of his pleasure got somewhere it shouldn’t he set out in the direction of Astronomy tower. Soon he found himself standing in front of the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry.

He knew how to access the Room now, but he never once did so without her presence there. She gave him full access, but it still felt as something of an intrusion into a space that was her own. But then again, perhaps she’d be there now… Perhaps the Room would accommodate them, make some neat little secret room with a large bed, and maybe some silky shawls to be used as bounds, and some other toys they could use on each other… 

After he paced before the hidden entrance three times, the door materialised out of nowhere, and he noiselessly entered. The Room of Requirement was truly not vacant, but, unfortunately for Aesop, its sole inhabitant classified as a being was currently Deek the house elf.

“Ah, professor Sharp!” the elderly elf greeted jovially. He grew used to the potions master’s presence in the Room, as he knew Aesop enjoyed spending time with the Ravenclaw and the beasts in their Vivariums as much as Deek himself. Except perhaps the coastal one, containing Lord of the Shore. But then again, Deek couldn’t blame the former Auror for being wary of the Graphorn, it was after all one of the largest of his kind Deek ever saw, and even the house elf was very respectful and careful when approaching him.

“Hello, Deek,” Aesop said quietly, “I’m guessing she’s not here at the moment?” Deek shook his head: “She’s not, professor Sharp. Hasn’t been here today as of yet.” The potions master nodded. He then pulled out the sealed letter from within the confines of his breast pocket. “This is for her, and her eyes only. Can I leave it here somewhere for her to find?”

“But of course, sir,” Deek said, coming closer and towards the plant that stood in the centre of the room, “Here on this desk by the Venomous Tentacula, she always tends to it first, she’ll be certain to find professor Sharp’s letter right away.” Aesop took a wary step towards the large plant, but it displayed none of the hostility towards him that the one in Mirabel’s greenhouse did. He placed the letter there, his sweetheart’s full name upwards, then shifted awkwardly on his feet. 

“Would professor Sharp like to see the new litter of Kneazles, sir? They’re very lovely ginger in colour, Miss (L/N) already took the liberty to name one of them Matilda Kneazley.” Aesop chuckled audibly: “That sounds like something she would do. Does professor Weasley know about it?” Deek grinned at him: “I don’t think so, sir, but I hope that she’d be pleased. Kneazles are quite brilliant creatures after all.” The potions master couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Just out of curiosity, you wouldn’t happen to know whether she named any beast after me, would you?” he asked then, genuinely curious. “I do happen to know, actually! Miss (L/N) recently brought a female Graphorn into the Coastal vivarium, and it would seem that she’s with a cub already. Miss (L/N) plans to name the little one after you.” Aesop couldn’t help but press his hand against his face: “That’s nice…”

He ended up going to see the Kneazle kittens for a little bit, but decided not to check up on the pregnant Graphorn. How his sweetheart was able to treat the ferocious beasts like they were mere housecats both befuddled and fascinated Aesop. 

Later that day, just as Aesop prepared to go to Dinner a rapid knocking on his door startled him. His heart immediately picked up pace - could it be her? The knocking sounded rather urgent, but then again it could be another student or even a colleague in distress. But if it was her…

“Enter,” he said after clearing his throat and was soon met with the sight of his sweetheart, her face flushed and breathing hard. But then again, that could be from possibly running all the way here.

“Something the matter, love?” he asked, a slightly smug smile making its way onto his face. The young woman checked the corridor behind her to make sure nobody was there, then entered his chambers and closed the door behind her. Aesop came closer to her slowly, like a predator approaching his prey. His hands came to close around her wrists and she let him pin them above her head against the door. The rest of her body soon followed, as he pressed his own against it: “I take it you read my letter?” 

The young woman’s eyes were impossibly dark, her cheeks even more crimson now. 

“Aesop, please…”

“Who knew that me simply returning the favour would get you into such a state, my love? Tell me, what do you need?” he purred into her ear before dropping his face to drag his teeth over the soft skin of her neck. She sighed at the sensation: “I really need you…I need you to read the letter to me… please…” Aesop grinned against her throat.

“That can be arranged,” he said darkly, “but I think it’s only fair that you offer something in return, no? Let me watch what it does to you…” His lips then claimed hers hotly, his tongue instantly surging forward to explore her mouth. His hands closed around the back of her thighs, and soon he began carrying her towards his bedroom, where he sat her down upon his made bed. He kneeled between her legs, his large hands stroking her stockings-clad shins, moving up to her knees, her thighs, pushing her skirt up as they went.

“Do we have a deal, my lovely?”

The Ravenclaw gave a soft gasp when Aesop’s hands teased at her inner thighs.

“I’ll take that as a yes. The letter please…”

Hello, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic. As always, you can find this and all of my other works over at my AO3.

I am always super grateful for feedback uwu

#aesop sharp #professor sharp #hogwarts legacy #fanfiction #reader insert #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp x you #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp smut #aesop sharp x mc #tfw u get a gf and ur drive goes through the astronomy tower roof oop

[hanasnx]

Not a request but i just saw the anon talking abt ani's biceps and it led to a thought of my own that i must share omgomg

So reader is working out with Ani and they're trying their hardest to concentrate while looking at him shirtless, especially after they fucked literally the night before. His muscles are tensing, their brain is running rapid and he can tell so he teases them relentlessly by flexing more, pushing his hair back, making obnoxious sounds as he works out and then they end the work out session by doing some light sparring

(Think of very light block attacks from one another just to keep their reflexes sharp)

And he's STILL flexing and the reader is STILL trying to focus on blocking him while sending a few jabs of their own until he finally catches their wrist and just doesnt let go, bringing them in closer and closer... before leaving the reader a kiss on the forehead and a slap on their ass with a smile and walking off, which the reader gets him back for later

the idea of anakin flexing, making obnoxious sounds, just to get my attention and get me worked up 😵‍💫😵‍💫

like he’s practically moaning and groaning and exhaling and breath hitching in his throat. breathing hard through his nose. whatever hot fucking sounds he can make that’s excusable for working out and can pass off as sex noises. he’s doing it. he’s doing it and can feel you getting wetter and wetter watching him practically peacock for you. yea.

#love him. #arm kink <3 #indy shoots the shit #x gn!reader #tfw-tajaaa #thanks for the msg!! #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #reader insert #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker imagine