#two seconds later Sun grabs him by the scruff of his shirt

[paper-lilypie]

fuckin kids sneakin around

#two seconds later Sun grabs him by the scruff of his shirt #feral cat this guy #fnaf #post fire au #fnaf gregory #moon x reader #sun x reader #fanart #art: copper cogs rusted through #ccrt chapter four

[itsapeterthing]

Lollipop || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: your brother and his best friend find themselves in a fight after a few boys don’t know when to shut their mouth.

a/n: reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: fighting, mentions of blood, someone makes a suggestive comment about reader

masterlist || request || taglist

1935

“What do you think you’re doin’, punk?” He asked, plucking the lollipop from your hand. “I thought Steve told you to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Kneeling beside you behind the dumpster, Bucky pulled the wrapping off of the top of the lollipop, slipping it into his mouth. Swatting your brother’s best friend, you scolded him in a hushed voice.

“Hey! Big mouth!” You whispered. “Can you stop talkin’ so loud? Someone’s gonna find us if you don’t shut up. Thanks for stealing my lollipop by the way.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, raising his eyebrows, pulling the candy out of his mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Consider it payment for keepin’ my mouth shut. The hell you doing back here anyway?”

You were asking yourself the same question.

You and your brother Steve always walked home together at the end of the school day when he met you at your locker after the final bell rung. However earlier that day, your brother had come up to you, his eyes unable to meet yours, telling you to wait for him out front after school was over for the day because he ‘had something he had to do’ afterwards. Not even giving you a chance to ask him why, your brother had stormed off to his next class.

Not one to mind your own business when it came to Steve, as soon as the dismissal bell rung, you disobeyed his orders, making your way to the back of the school, hiding behind the dumpster you and Bucky were situated at now.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He asked. “I haven’t seen him since lunch. Why? What’d he say?”

Shaking your head, you glanced at the door of the building as it opened. “Nothing. He was acting really weird-”

Cutting yourself short, you stopped speaking as you saw two boys you recognized, coming out the back door of the school, laughing with one another. Shutting yourself up, you tugged on the sleeve of Bucky’s t-shirt when you saw none other than your brother Steve emerge from the door seconds later.

“Hey!” Steve called to the two boys.

“What the hell is he doing?” Bucky whispered to you.

Pulling his shirt tighter, your eyes growing wide, you both continued to watch the scene unfold in front of you.

“Listen, Rogers, if you know what’s good for you you’ll go back inside.” The boy you recognized as Matthew said, turning around.

“Take back what you said.” Your brother said, his hands balling into fists at his side. When he received no answer from either of the boys, he raised his voice. “I said take back what you said in the bathroom!”

The two boys glancing at each other, one of them raised his voice.

“Yeah? Or what?”

Rather than replying, you watched as your brother raised his fists to his eye line, but before anything could come from it, one of the boys strode over to Steve, swinging a punch to his face before he could even block it, the other kicking him to the ground.

“Shit!” Bucky swore, shrugging your hand off of his shirt and rising to his feet. “Stay here.”

“But Buck-” You began.

Taking the lollipop out of his mouth, he shoved it into your hands, pointing his finger at you. “I said- stay here.”

You watched with wide eyes as your brother’s best friend, made his way around the dumpster, over to the fight happening before your eyes.

“Hey!” Bucky called, the boys’ heads turning at the sound of his voice. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Grabbing the collar of one of the boy’s shirts, Bucky shoved him against the wall, throwing a punch to his face.

“What the hell did these guys do to piss you off so bad, Steve?” Bucky asked, holding Matthew against the wall.

Answering for him, the boy smiled, showing off his bloody teeth. “All I said was that it’s a good thing y’all are so poor. If the Rogers could buy better clothes we wouldn’t get to see Y/n’s panties through her skirt every time she-“

“Keep her name outta your God damn mouth!” Steve shouted before he took another blow to his face.

Beginning to feel his blood boil at the sight of the boy in front of him, Bucky’s jaw clenched as he grabbed Matthew by the collar with both hands and threw him onto the ground.

“C’mon Barnes,” The boy laughed. “You’ve seen her. You’re tellin’ me you spend all your time with that charity case friend of yours without wanting anythin-”

Practically seeing red, Bucky climbed on top of him, and began throwing a series of punches against the boy’s face. 

Although you were Steve’s sister, Bucky had known you well enough that he wasn’t going to back away from a fight where your name was being dragged through the mud. He had known you practically his whole life- you and Steve were a packaged deal, having been adopted by the Rogers as an infant and raised as Steve’s sister. Although he teased the hell out of you, he had always had a soft spot for his best friend’s sister and he wasn’t about to let some asshole talk that way about you without getting his face beat in.

Despite Bucky’s orders, you couldn’t sit by and watch your brother get beat up by the boy on top of him while Bucky took out the other. Slipping the lollipop that was in your hands into your own mouth, you grabbed the piece of plywood that was laying against the dumpster beside you and stood up. Making your way around the dumpster over to where the fight was going on, you came up behind the unnamed boy that was on top of your brother. Lifting the piece of wood in your hands, you swung it across the back of the his head.

A loud yelp erupting from the boy’s mouth as he fell to the ground, off of Steve grabbed Bucky’s attention.

“What the-” Bucky exclaimed looking up to see you standing above your brother and the other boy. “I thought I told you to stay-”

Before he could finish his sentence however, distracted by you, the boy below him took advantage of the situation to swing a punch right into Bucky’s eye.

“Shit!” He shouted in pain, but before Matthew could throw another one, Bucky threw one last punch across his nose, the boy immediately screaming in pain.

“My nose!” He shouted, hands shooting to his bloodied face. “I think you broke my fucking nose!”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, pulling on the boy’s collar and bringing his face inches from his. “If you even think about the Rogers girl again, I’ll kick your fucking teeth in, alright?”

Nodding wildly, he scrambled to his feet, running back towards the door of the building, the boy you had hit with the piece of plywood, holding the back of his head close behind him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you dropped the piece of wood at your side, closing your eyes until you felt the lollipop slip out of your mouth.

“Wha-” You began, opening your eyes.

When they did, your eyes landed on a bruised up Bucky slipping the lollipop into his own mouth once again.

“You owe me another one.” You said.

“Yeah right.” Bucky scoffed, pointing at the black eye that was forming on his face. “This shiner’s worth two of these stupid things and I got it because you, missy, don’t know when to stay put.”

Shaking your head, you turned to look at your brother and his bloodied face, resting your hand on his shoulder before turning back to Bucky.

“Steve needed help!” You exclaimed, attempting to defend yourself.

Shrugging your hand off, Steve shook his head. “I didn’t need your help, Y/n.” He said. “I could’ve handled those guys.”

You knew Steve wasn’t one to ask for help- he hated it actually. With his stature and health people were always either giving him help he didn’t ask for out of pity or actively working to make his life even more miserable. You understood that because of all of this he didn’t ask or want your help, but you didn’t help him because you didn’t believe in him, but- for the same reason as Bucky- because you cared. 

Knowing better than to make the situation worse, you sighed in defeat, nodding.

“You’re right.” You said to your older brother. “I’m sorry.”

Watching the scene in front of him, Bucky laid his hands on both of your shoulders.

“Listen, those guys were assholes.” He said glancing at each of you. “They deserved to get their ass kicked by three people. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about them again for a while now.”

-

As Bucky and you sat waiting for your brother on a bench in front of your shared high school for him to grab his wallet, you looked up at Bucky. Although you had to squint your eyes from the sun shining above the buildings, you gazed at your brother’s best friend’s face- the way the lollipop stick hung outside his mouth, the scruff that was already covering his jawline and even the bruise that had begun to form around his eye.

Shaking your head to clear your mind, you cleared your throat.

“Buck?” You asked.

“Yeah?” He replied, staring ahead, hand still on the stick of the lollipop in his mouth.

“What...” You began, fiddling with your fingers. “What was that fight all about anyway?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, and slipping the lollipop out his mouth he turned to you.

“You didn’t hear any of that?”

“No.”

Staring straight ahead, placing the candy back on his tongue he thought about the fight that had just unfolded and the sick things the kid who’s face he beat in said to cause it. He knew nothing good would come from you knowing and he knew even more that no matter how much he tried he wouldn’t even be able to say the words to your face.

“Same old stuff.” He shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “Ya know, about Steve’s height and shit.”

Shaking your head, you scoffed.

“What assholes.”

“Yeah.”

Before anymore could be said, the sound of the front door of the school swinging open drew you and Bucky’s attention, Steve emerging from inside the building.

“Anyone steal anything?” Bucky asked, pushing himself off of the bench.

Chuckling, Steve opened his wallet to reveal... nothing.

“Not if there’s nothing to steal.” Your brother laughed.

Making your short trip back to your respective apartments, you followed behind with Bucky and Steve, laughing along with their jokes along the way despite their bruised and battered faces and the events that had transpired not even a half an hour before.

When Bucky made it back to his building, the stick of the lollipop still in his mouth, he waved back to the two of you. Watching as you and your brother made your way back home until you both had left his line of sight, Bucky couldn’t help but think about how one day the Rogers siblings would stop getting themselves into fights, but until that day came he swore he would do whatever it took to protect his best friend and his ‘punk’ little sister who- despite his best efforts- he had always saved a special place in his heart for.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #40s!bucky

[mickey-henry]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic​ for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff​ for the grammar help, and @midnightf​ for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.  

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought.  The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #my fic: you're the best book I ever read #mel's writing

[fandom-blackhole]

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP

Din Djarin

53. Mutual pining, 41. First kiss, 6. Bookshop AU 👀

Hope this is enough of a distraction! ❤

First of all, how dare you make me think of how cute this little AU is, because now I'm yearning for modern Din and Grogu! Second, yes darling, this is going to distract me all night lmao

53. Mutual pining

41. First kiss

6. Bookshop AU

Din Djarin x Reader

Owning your own little bookshop had its pros and cons. Some of the cons, to name a few, was worrying about making enough to keep the store open, dealing with angry people when you shop didn't carry the book they wanted, the building you were in was old and leaked every time it rained, and just the entire business side of the bookstore bored you and made your anxiety raise just thinking about it. But the pros, those more then made up for the stress of counting each penny in order to order stock. And those pros came in the form of your two favorite customers, a young boy, always dressed in the cutest green frog sweater and his father who took your breath the first time he walked into you small store. Din Djarin was handsome in a way that was devastating. Not only was he physically handsome, with brown eyes that screamed of kindness, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, hands big enough to dwarf any book in your store, and scruff that was so patchy you couldn't help but find it cute, but Din was also handsome in the way that he acted, the way he would gently talk to his son as they picked out books or as he sat in the reading nook and read to Grogu, the way he would always ask about your day, how when he saw you struggling with boxes on more than one occasion he had stepped in and moved them for you not letting you lift another box. Din was sweet and kind to you, and with every small smile he gave you, you thought your heart would burst from your chest. And his son, Grogu, was obviously in the best hands. The boy was just as polite as his father, and just as devastatingly cute. The young boy, who you always joked about being your best customer, always ran into the store with an excites wave and a smile, and almost always ran and gave you the biggest hug he could. On occasion, the little cutie would bring you a present to add to a shelf you had cleared just for him. The presents were what you'd expect a kid to give, a dandelion, a colorful leaf, a shiny rock, and once a piece of candy that Din explained he had cried over for days after seeing it before Din went and bought it for him. You cared deeply for the two, and they brightened your weeks with each visit they made.

One week, it had been raining and storming every single day with no reprieve. You had all but written off seeing the two, knowing they always walked to your shop, but there you were shocked when a tiny frog rainbooted blur came dashing towards you and wrapped your legs in a hug, quickly followed by a hushed stern voice saying, "Stop it kid, you're gonna get them all wet!"

You could only giggle and lean down to give him a proper hug, looking over towards Din, saying, "If getting wet is the price I pay for my favorite and best customer's hug, then I'll gladly take it."

Din only shook his head and gave you his small smile, making you bite the inside of your lip feeling the rush of warmth in your chest and face. The two then disappeared into the children's section, you occasionally hearing Grogu's giggle, or Din's quiet rumbling voice, making you grin as you walked around organizing shelves. Eventually, you got lost in thought, humming quietly to yourself as you worked. You hadn't noticed the set of eyes watching you, and you barely caught the throat being cleared before you bumped into what you could have almost mistaken for a bookshelf with how solid it was. When you turned to look up, eyes wide and already apologizing, you found Din's soft eyes looking at you. Din took no time brushing your apology to the side, before furrowed his brows and saying, "There is a bucket full of water in the middle of the children's section."

You sighed painfully and nodded, before turning back to your work to both somewhat distract yourself from the way his eyes were boring into you, and to keep you hands busy from nervous fidgeting, as you said, "Yeah...it leaks back there whenever it rains super hard. I just... I havent been able to get it fixed yet."

Then Din shocked you completely, he grabbed your hand, stilling it and making you look into those soulful eyes before whispering, "I can fix that."

You had tried to argue with him, telling him you'd get to it eventually and making up reason why he shouldn't, but each time he shot you down, until he was paying for the stack of books Grogu had grabbed and he had set up a weekend day he could come over to do the job.

When the weekend finally came around, it was hot and muggy from all of the rain, and Din had shown up with everything he needed, and Grogu, who you agreed to watch while he worked, the least you could do considering he was trying to work without payment. But Din had also shown up in a white t-shirt that hugged his chest and showed off his softer middle, and jeans that fit right in all of the right places, and you couldn't help but feel your mouth go dry. You had closed the store for the day, and had made a lunch for the three of you the night before, so while Din made quick work with the roof, you and Grogu played games and read books in the little reading nook. Eventually, he got hungry so you let him eat, and shortly after he dozed off looking through a hidden images book. With a smile, you tucked him gently into a more comfortable position and draped a soft quilt around his shoulder. When you turned around though your heart stopped and you felt heat rush to your face. While you had been distraction, Din had snuck into the store and watched with an aching heart as you took care of his son, falling for the soft and loving smile that graced your features as you did. When you turned around completely, you took in his form, and felt a pang of guilt with how red his face was from working in the sun, but also a pang of something else entirely as your eyes soaked in the way Din's sweat shirt clung to his chest, leaving nothing to your imagination and how his hair curled so perfectly from the dampness of sweat and the humidity.

"I finished," his soft rumble broke you from you ogling, and the heat in your face spread to your chest as you cleared your throat. "Come sit down then, I made food last night and I imagine you're hungry so eat, and I will go get you some ice water to cool off."

You rushed away, as Din checked on Grogu before settling on the floor, and reaching for the plate that was on the coffee table. You appeared seconds later, setting a glass in front of him, before sitting beside him, grabbing your own plate.

"Sorry it isn't anything fancy, but I thought that the ravioli would be something Grogu and you both may like."

"It is perfect, thank you."

The two of you ate in silence after that, both of you stealing glances at the other while they weren't looking. When you finished, you took the plates and set them aside before shyly saying, "Thank you again, Din. You have helped me so much with this favor, and if I can repay you in anyway just tell me."

"It was nothing, and you owe me nothing, I promise."

You looked over at him, a soft and kind smile showing on your face, "I feel bad not doing anything for you or paying you. There has to be something?"

Din was quiet for a few minutes, his eyes taking in your earnest and open body language, taking in how your own eyes danced around his form, and before he could think twice about it, he said, "There is one thing..."

"Anything, you only have to ask."

Din took in how perked up you were, leaning towards him in the small space that separated the two of you. Taking a deep breath for courage, Din leaned in himself, and whispered, hot breath ghosting over your face, "A kiss?"

You swallowed thickly in shock, and met his gaze, finding no teasing look, only want so soft you thought you'd melt, so you replied by softly nodding and slowly drifting your eyes shut. Then you felt it, a soft brush of plush lips against your own, before they connected fully. The kiss was quick, and loving, and you followed his lips as he pulled away. Slowly, you both looked at eachother, taking in the other's reaction, before reaching out again. You buried one of your hands in Din's sinfully soft curls, as one of his broad palms cupped your cheek. This kiss was more passionate, but not pushing. The two of you finally just enjoying the feel of the other. The kiss expressed so much love and passion that it had you addicted and never wanting to pull away. But eventually the two of you needed to leave the other for air, and as your chests both heaved slightly, Din whispered while his forehead pressed against yours, "I also wouldn't say no to a date."

Send Me Tropes

#fanfic tropes ask game #din djarin x reader #din x reader #whoever points out the reference i made gets a big kiss and all of my love

[ragingpancake]

I Will Try (To Fix You) - Part One

Here’s the thing: Rodney is an actual pain in the ass. They’d be hard pressed to find anyone in two galaxies who didn’t agree with that assessment but most of the time, John doesn’t mind. He puts up with all of Rodney’s neuroses with a kind of fond indulgence but there’s really only so much that one man can take, even if that man is John Sheppard, McKay whisperer. The trek to the Carnean settlement is long and it’s hot and John isn’t feeling charitable the fifty seventh time that Rodney complains about the heat. He snaps at the scientist in a way that he almost never does, even Teyla and Ronon visibly reacting to the sting of his words. Later, once they’re back home and John doesn’t feel like he’s going to sweat to death, he’ll ply Rodney with some chocolate and coffee as an apology, but now, he’s grateful for the silence. -- The Carneans aren’t quite what John expected. Most of the planets they trade with are primitive in technology, and the ones more advanced are usually comprised of a bunch of dicks. Teyla had warned that they were a peaceful people, but deeply, deeply religious in regards to their technology, believing them to be gifts from their Gods. She said it as a warning mostly to Rodney, who had horrible manners on even the best of occasions, but was known to abandon all pretense of any sort of civility when it came to shiny, new ancients toys that he could get his hands on. He promised to behave though, looking a little bitterly in John’s direction, clearly still smarting from the reprimand earlier, but John still won’t let himself feel bad about that when the armpits of his black t-shirt are completely drenched, leaving him to feel sticky and gross and still annoyed. To his credit, John can tell that Rodney really does try to behave. He questions the Carneans about their energy source almost delicately, even as his handheld is going crazy in his hand, alerting them all to almost ZPM level energy signals coming from just beneath them. His resolve to be, well, Rodney is slowly starting to break though and even though John warns him twice, voice growing more agitated as the Carneans grow increasingly uncomfortable with Rodney’s line of questioning. “Rodney,” Teyla interjects, forcing a smile to her face though her eyes never leave their leader, Arrens. “Perhaps it would be best if we—” “No, no! You don’t understand! This energy source is—” He yelps as Ronon scruffs him, grabbing him by the back of his tac vest to stop him from venturing to the giant pillars before them, the ones that lead down to their most sacred chamber. “Perhaps we should return to the village,” Arrens says and his voice is even, though clearly laced with barely concealed disdain for the scientist. John’s about to joke that he’ll have to get in line with all of the other people in Pegasus that Rodney has annoyed when Rodney wiggles free of Ronon and starts for the temple entrance. “McKay!” John snaps again and this time, it’s him who reaches out for Rodney, grabbing him none to gently by the shoulder, squeezing not so hard enough to actually hurt Rodney, but to get his attention. It has its desired effect and John leaves Teyla to offer their profuse apologies as he and Ronon set off for the Jumper, dragging Rodney between them.

--- “What part of sacred temple do you not understand?” John barks, whirling around on the scientist as soon as they’re far enough away from the Carneans. “For someone as smart as you, you have absolutely zero common sense!” “But the energy source--!” “I don’t give a crap about the energy source, Rodney! We need their grains, you know that, and instead, you’ve jeopardized this entire mission!” John’s sure why he’s so angry, but he’s hot, he’s tired, and once again, they’ll have to go back through the Gate empty handed all because Rodney couldn’t control himself for a total of two seconds. “Sheppard,” Ronon grumbles as Rodney seemingly wilts in front of them, not used to being on the receiving end of John’s Colonel Sheppard wrath and for a second, he feels a little bit like a dick. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth and gestures to the Jumper. “Get in.” “Sheppard, I—.” “I said get in, McKay. We’ll have this discussion later.” --- They’ve only been back at the Jumper for about fifteen minutes when Teyla comes through the thick foliage and she doesn’t look nearly as put out as John expected. He knows that she’s been counting on those grains for the Athosian settlement too, but she seems in good spirits as they meet her at the ramp of the Jumper. “I have spoken to Arrens and explained Rodney’s… over excitement away as a bit of religious zeal. They were concerned at first that he might wish to desecrate their sacred temple, but they have been advised that he simply wished to learn more about their practices.” “That actually worked?” Ronon asks, eyebrow raised. “It is not uncommon for planets to simply trade knowledge, Ronon,” Teyla admonishes and she turns back to John. “They wish for us to join them for a meal so that we might continue talks of negotiation.” John glances at Ronon and then back to Teyla, gauging the situation before he finally turns his gaze to Rodney, leveling him with a glare. Rodney holds his hands up, handheld tucked away safely in his vest. “Best behavior, yes, I know. You’ll not hear a peep from me.” “I doubt that,” John snorts but he nods. “Alright then. And Rodney, if you so much as look like you’re going to mention that damn energy source, I’ll string you up myself. Clear?” “Crystal.” “Good. Let’s go.” --- The meal goes better than John expects, honestly. While Arrens still maintains a cool demeanor despite Teyla’s best diplomatic attempts to draw him into conversation, his son Atton speaks animatedly with both John and Ronon as Rodney finishes off his third bowl of stew. John has to cut him off from going back for a fourth as Arrens eyes seem transfixed on the scientist and Rodney’s already offended these people once today. John won’t allow him to do it a second time. “Lay off, McKay,” he mutters under his breath and Rodney whines like he always does when food’s involved. “But it’s good. When’s the last time we actually had a decent meal off-world? You think they do doggie-bags here? Maybe we can take it back home and the cooks can figure out how to—” Ronon elbows him in the side and Rodney doesn’t quite yelp but it’s a near thing and John figures the Carneans have probably had enough of Rodney for one day. Once again, John leaves Teyla to the niceties while Atton escorts the three men outside and it’s not long at all before Teyla joins them and they set off for the gate again. --- The walk back to the Jumper is much less miserable than it had been on the way to the settlement, for which John is eternally grateful. The sun is beginning to set, cooling the air and he finds himself much less agitated than he’s been for most of the day. Even the sound of Rodney gulping his water behind him isn’t enough to annoy him now, whereas earlier it very well might have sent John into a homicidal rage. “Did that stew leave a weird after taste with anyone?” He asks, and John rolls his eyes at that. “Nope, but we didn’t eat enough to feed an entire army.” Rodney huffs at that and tips his canteen up again,

frowning when he finds it empty. Teyla wordlessly passes her own to him, squeezing his shoulder gently, affectionately maybe, and John knows that while Rodney annoys the shit out of everyone they’ve ever met, he’s there’s and John isn’t the only one who is indulgently fond of Rodney. Even when he’s at his most annoying. --- Their return through the Gate is uneventful. Elizabeth is there to meet them when they arrive and John is feeling charitable enough now that he doesn’t even mention Rodney’s faux pas. He promises to have Teyla fill her in more on the trade agreement she’d been able to broker before he leads his team down to the locker room, Rodney strangely quiet the whole way. John’s about halfway through removing his gear when he glances over at Rodney, one eyebrow raised to find him sitting on the bench, still in his tac vest and thigh holster. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks, kicking Rodney’s boot gently with his foot to get his attention and Rodney startles, lifting his gaze to meet John’s. “What? Uh, nothing. Nothing, it’s just… my stomach feels a little…” He gestures vaguely and Ronon laughs behind them, clapping Rodney on the shoulder. “Must have been that third bowl. One of our commanders back on Sateda had a large appetite, but I think even you could out eat him, McKay.” “Gee, thanks,” Rodney frowns as John goes back to hanging up his vest, surreptitiously glancing over at the other to find that he does actually look a little green around the gills. “You wanna go see Beckett?” John offers after a moment. “No, no. Chewbacca’s probably right,” Rodney says as he unstraps his holster and stands, shrugging off his tac vest. “We all had the same thing, and you’re all fine.” John just shrugs. It’s not the first time Rodney’s eaten himself to a stomachache and he’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. “Alright,” he says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder, a little more gently than he’d been earlier in the day. “If anything changes though…” “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” “Alright. Debriefing in an hour. I’ll see you there.” “Yeah,” Rodney agrees. “See you.” John does not actually see Rodney later. At least not while he’s conscious. --- It happens really fast. Rodney doesn’t actually show up for the debriefing but that in and of itself is not really weird; he’s skipped more than one debriefing over the last few years, but there’s something gnawing uncomfortably in his gut anyway. They finish up and by the time they’re done, John thinks he’s probably just being a paranoid asshole, but he taps his comm, needing Rodney to confirm he’s good. “Sheppard to McKay, come in.” Silence. “Sheppard to McKay, Rodney, respond.” John glances over at Ronon and Teyla who have both been standing by, Teyla looking as worried as John feels and Ronon… well, Ronon looks pissed off, but John knows that that’s Ronon’s default when it comes to concern. “Sheppard to Zelenka, come in.” This time, his radio crackles immediately in his ear. “Zelenka here, go ahead Colonel.” “Hey Dr. Z, is Rodney down there?” John waits impatiently, but even before Radek answers, John already knows. “No Colonel, he is not here.” “I will check the infirmary,” Teyla says, squeezing John’s wrist. “Ronon, the mess. John, perhaps you should check his quarters. If Rodney was not feeling well, it’s likely he is in one of these three places.” “Yeah,” John nods. “Yeah, you’re right, okay. As soon as you find him, radio in.” They disperse quickly and John doesn’t mean to, but the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach twists and he realizes that at some point, he’d started to jog to the transporter to take him as close Rodney’s room as possible. “Sheppard to McKay,” he says again, a little breathless as he steps out of the transporter, “Rodney, I swear to God, you better be alright or I’ll kick your ass.” Even the threat of bodily violence doesn’t raise him and by the time John skids to a halt in front of Rodney’s door, he’s expecting the worst. He pounds on the door once, giving Rodney the

chance to open it, but when he hears nothing inside, he palms the door open to find Rodney face down on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own vomit. “No. No, no, no.” John closes the distance between them, calling for a medical team with barely concealed fear in his voice as he drops down to his knees, rolling Rodney over onto his side as he presses two fingers to the side of his neck. He can feel a pulse there but it’s rapid and thready. “Rodney, c’mon buddy. You gotta wake up, hey, hey, c’mon. Wake up, Rodney.” He’s babbling, he knows that, but he doesn’t know what else to do until he hears the sound of the medical team in the hallway, sprinting toward them, Teyla and Ronon both hot on their heels. “What happened?” Beckett barks as they spill into the room and John drops back on his ass, away from Rodney so that they can work. “I don’t… I don’t know, we just got back and he said he had a stomachache but he was fine and he--.” Ronon hefts John back to his feet, as Beckett assess the situation, calling down to the infirmary to warn them of their imminent arrival as Rodney’s lifted onto the gurney, his body sickeningly limp. “Did he ingest anything off world?” He calls over his shoulder, expecting them to follow, and they do, Ronon forcing John to keep moving. “Colonel!” Carson snaps when John doesn’t immediately answer as one of the nurses places the ambu bag over Rodney’s face. “We took part in a meal with the Carneans, but we were all served the same food,” Teyla answers for John when it becomes clear that he won’t, or rather, can’t. John can’t tear his eyes away from Rodney as his chest rises and falls only because of the bag forcing air into his lungs. “Blood pressure’s dropping!” Simpson announces as the doors to the infirmary open and the last thing they hear is Beckett cursing as the doors close in their faces. --- He should’ve forced him down to the infirmary. The moment Rodney gave any indication that something was off, John should’ve marched him down here himself, but Rodney had been a pain in the ass all day and-- John had figured he’d deserved a bit of a stomachache for as much trouble as he’d almost caused and if Rodney wasn’t okay, John would--. John had no fucking idea what he’d do. They’re sitting outside of the infirmary, John’s leg bouncing nervously, head cradled in his hands with Teyla and Ronon flanking him. Others had come when word began to spread, Elizabeth and Radek, even Lorne, posted near the door. It’s unsettlingly quiet, only the muffled sounds spilling through the doors to be heard. Their vigil seems to stretch on forever. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into--. Honestly, John has no idea how long they’ve been here. Time has no meaning in this moment and while it feels like it’s been days, after what in reality was only thirty minutes, Beckett steps out, looking more grim than John thinks he’s ever seen him, including the time that John turned into a bug. “We don’t have much time,” he says, glancing to Elizabeth. “I need permission to move him down to the Stasis pods. His condition is rapidly deteriorating and without an antidote on hand--.” “Antidote?” Ronon interrupts, hand clenched into a fist at his side. “Are you saying McKay was poisoned?” “Aye,” Beckett answers shortly. “Elizabeth, his organs have already begun to shut down at an alarmingly rapid pace. If we delay this--.” “Go,” Elizabeth says at once and Carson is gone before there’s a chance to ask anything further. John doesn’t need to know anything else though. He stands, nodding at Ronon and Teyla to go gear up and without a single word, the two turn, reading his body language clearly enough. John will be right behind them, but first he needs to make sure Rodney gets to where he’s going. The doors open again, the medical team moving at a quick pace, but John keeps up with them easily, coming to a stop only once they reach the stasis chamber. Rodney is sickeningly gray now and if John didn’t know better, he’d think he was already gone. He reaches for the other’s

hand as Beckett and one of the nurses ready the pod and he squeezes Rodney’s fingers as he leans in close to his ear, willing Rodney to hear him. “I will fix this,” he vows, lips brushing the outer shell of Rodney’s ear. “I will burn that entire fucking planet down if I have to, but I promise you, I will fix it. Hang on, Rodney. Please.” “Colonel,” Beckett says, shouldering John bodily out of the way. “Get a move on, son. The stasis pod will keep his organs from shutting down any further, but I need that antidote if there’s any hope of bringin’ him back from this.” John does not need to be told again. --- Arrens is prepared for their return. There is a group of armed men waiting at the gate, Arrens standing unapologetically behind them. John wants to blow them all to pieces as soon as the Jumper clears the event horizon but Teyla reminds him as calmly as possible that doing so will make it impossible for them to find the antidote. Instead, he touches the Jumper down and they’re out, weapons raised. “You come to our village,” Arrens booms, “attempt to desecrate our templeand return to turn your weapons upon us?” “Give us the antidote and we will leave, never to return again!” Teyla responds, neither John nor Ronon moving to lower their weapons. “We did not intend to offend your Gods; Doctor McKay had no malicious intentions.” Arren is not moved, however, but there’s another, Atton, who steps forward, maybe to act as a liaison for his people, but it’s all John needs to move. It happens so quickly, that none of the Careans have an opportunity to fire as John grabs the boy, arm around his neck as Atton struggles, hands up in surrender. “Please, Colonel Sheppard--.” “Nothin’ personal, kid,” but John’s not leaving here without that antidote. “You have five seconds to give us what we’ve come for. Do not make me ask again.” “My… my bag,” Atton struggles, but John does not hear him as his grip tightens around his throat. “Release him at once!” Arrens bellows, and he steps forward, as if to charge them but Ronon aims his weapon, finger on the trigger and the man stops. “Arrens, please,” Teyla tries, “there need not be bloodshed between our two peoples! Gives us the antidote!” Atton hits John’s wrist, struggling against him, blunt nails digging into skin and he tries again. “B… a…” And then John spots it, the tiny vial that’s tumbled from the bag dropped by the boy when John grabbed him. “Ronon!” The Satedan surges forward, grabbing it at the same time John releases Atton, who falls to his knees, gasping for air. “If he dies,” John snarls, aiming his side arm at the leader of the Careans, almost begging the man to give him a reason,“there is no place in this galaxy that you will be able to hide.” “John,” Teyla pleads urgently, trying to usher him back towards the Jumper. “We must go. Rodney is in great need.” And it’s that reminder that snaps John out of it as he backs into the Jumper, Ronon already dialing. --- Even with the antidote, they have no way of knowing if Rodney’s going to make it. The damage to his insides was extensive; his kidneys had shut down completely and Carson warns that if he wakes up, there very well could be weeks, if not months of dialysis treatments. They still have no way of knowing if there was any damage to his nervous system, and they won’t know until he wakes up. Carson speaks in hypotheticals, using if instead of when and John finds that every time he does, he wants to scream. If he’d been less pissed at Rodney, if he’d paid a little bit more attention, he could’ve caught this. The increased thirst, back on the planet, that could’ve been their first sign that something was wrong and they could’ve-- He should’ve--. Whether Rodney wakes up or not, John knows that he’ll never forgive himself for this one.

---

In the end, Rodney does wake up. He does so quietly, without fanfare, alerting at first only John when Rodney squeezes his fingers gently where they’re linked through his own. He sits up from where his head had been pillowed on the bed at Rodney’s hip and for a moment, when he sees those blue eyes staring back at him, he can’t quite breathe. “John,” Rodney rasps, voice hoarse, a bit pained. “Where… what…?” “Hey buddy,” John greets, leaning back in his chair for a split second to signal to Marie before his gaze flickers back to Rodney’s ashen face. “You’re okay. You’re in the infirmary. You’ve been here for a couple of days.” A couple of days which felt uncomfortably like an eternity. Rodney’s eyes close again and for a second, John thinks maybe he’s slipped back into unconsciousness, which Beckett had previously warned could happen, but then Rodney’s blinking up at him. “The… the energy source,” he manages. “There was… ‘m sorry.” “Hey, hey,” John says and he scoots forward in his chair and John can hear Beckett approaching, knowing it won’t be long before John’s forced to give up his seat at Rodney’s side while he’s examined. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rodney.” And least nothing that Rodney should be sorry for. John, on the other hand… “You’re gonna be okay though. You hear me? You’re gonna be fine, I promise.” Rodney nods and closes his eyes again, clearly exhausted from the short exchange. Beckett steps in and John starts to pull back, to let the other work, but Rodney grips his fingers again. “Stay,” he rasps and John glances at Beckett who gives a barely there nod. “Alright,” he says, settling back down into his chair. “I’m here, buddy. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise.”

#mcshep #hurt/comfort #john sheppard #rodney mckay #hurt!rodney #whumped!rodney #sga #stargate atlantis #pre-mcshep #mcshep getting together #angst

[emwritesfootball]

Lockdown Punishments 6 | Eric Dier

The day has come. No more lockdown. No guidelines. Nothing stopping you being together. You can have each other. Eric had planned to be at your house earlier in the morning. You had no idea of his plans. So you were surprised to see him at the door at 7am. You were wearing a thong and one of Eric's old shirts that you had kept. As soon as he saw you, he picked you up over his shoulder, smacked your arse and took you inside to finally punish you from all the teasing and games during lockdown. He took you on every surface he could find. Not stopping all day long making up for lost time.

Word Count: 1,667

Warnings: nipple clamps, butt plug, riding crop, bondage...you name it, this part has it. Enjoy xx

- - -

End of Lockdown.

Everything seems brighter when you wake up. The sky seems clearer, the birds happier, and you’re in the best mood after what feels like forever.

Lockdown has officially been lifted as of midnight and you’d been barely able to sleep. You’d wanted Eric to come over right at midnight but he’d refused, telling you cheekily that he wanted you all rested up and ready for everything he had planned once the sun rose.

The coffee had been brewed and you’d just finished pouring yourself a cup when you heard a knock at the door. Your stomach fluttered in anticipation, but you weren’t expecting to see Eric right at 7am. The hem of Eric’s shirt skimmed over your ass, reminding you that you were in just his shirt and a thong. “Is this what you meant by ‘sunrise’?” You joked, giggling as you launched yourself into his arms. He let out a heavy sigh as he squeezed you back tightly, his large hands roaming over your body. You landed back down on your feet, pulling him inside.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Eric groaned, his hands on either side of your face as he kissed you with everything he had. You moaned into his mouth at the feel of his lips finally on yours after two whole months. Your fingers clutched at his t-shirt, needing to have him everywhere right now.

Eric roughly broke the kiss, taking advantage of your surprise to pick you up over his shoulder. You let out a squeal that quickly turned to a yelp when he slapped your ass. “What are you doing?! Ow!” Another slap. “Eric!”

“It’s ‘Sir’ now,” he growled, making his way to the bedroom and tossing you unceremoniously on the bed. “I’ve been waiting to punish you in person for two months now. Got a little taste last week when I got to cane you and now I want more.”

You balanced back on your elbows as you watched him walk over to the full box of toys he’d sent two months prior, digging through until he found what he was looking for. “I’ve got lots of plans for you, Babygirl,” he murmured, a look in his eyes as he sauntered over to the bed, “but first, I need to be inside you - gotta feel that tight pussy milking my dick.”

Eric rid you of your shirt, the thong joining it in a heap on the floor right before he stripped off his own clothes. Your eyes were glued to his erect cock, practically drooling over the sight. His replica-cock dildo had been torturing you since he’d made you cum over and over on it, not allowing you to use it since that day. Your pussy ached to be filled, clenching around nothing to remind you what you needed from Eric.

You reached for him but Eric pulled back, chuckling as he shook his head. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so. I’ve got plans to take my time for you and make you beg for it - you’re not getting this cock just because I need to be inside you. I can hold off my pleasure to bring you pain.”

“Please, Sir,” you whimpered as Eric settled between your legs. He kissed his way up your inner thighs, cataloguing all your sounds and the way you writhed at his touch.

“I can smell you from here,” Eric rasped, taking a deep inhale. “You gonna let me have a taste, Babygirl?”

Your hands fisted the sheets and you involuntarily bucked your hips, a strangled “yes” leaving your lips.

When he chuckled, you felt his warm breath on your dripping core, the anticipation killing you. The scruff of his newfound beard scratched your lower lips as he laved his tongue over your clit. The pads of his fingers dipped into your ass, his thumbs spreading your labia so he could slip his tongue into your slick centre. Your legs tried to close around his head so you could ride his face but Eric anticipated the move, using his forearm to pin down your hips so he could take his time with you.

“Can I cum, please?”

“Already? Not a chance.” Eric’s eyes met yours as he hummed around your clit to make you forget everything but how good his tongue felt on you.

Your body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time Eric guided his thick cock into you. He ran his thumb over your clit, groaning when your pussy clenched around him. “You’ll get your orgasm, Babygirl. Don’t worry,” he grunted, his thrusts picking up speed. “Cum for me. Now.”

Eric held you as you shuddered against him, your orgasm wracking your body in such a way that had you seeing stars. All the orgasms he’d teased out of you over Zoom and FaceTime were nothing compared to this one, the denial adding even more to the feeling.

Eric pulled out of you, watching his seed drip down your pussy and onto the bed sheets.

“Can I clean you up, Sir?” You asked, your gaze hungry. You knew exactly how that cock would taste, a mixture of your slick and Eric’s cum, and you’d be lying if you said you wanted it - you needed it.

“Get over here before I change my mind.”

You practically attacked his cock, licking and sucking like your life depended on it. Eric’s moans spurred you on until you were deepthroating him, gagging on his length as you cleaned him up with your lips and tongue. Your tongue traced up his shaft as your hands played with his balls, watching him react to your touch.

“That’s enough,” he rasped, tugging your hair to pull you off his cock. “Lay back. Hands above your head.”

“What do you plan to do to me, Sir?” You asked, doing as you were told. Eric grabbed what he’d picked out from the box, tying you up. You gasped as Eric kissed your neck, his beard scraping over your skin as he trailed kisses between the valley of your breasts. He sucked a pert nipple in his mouth, the sensation going straight to your overly-sensitive clit. You moaned, arching your back into his touch which made you strain against the ties. He pulled off the bud, quickly replacing his mouth with a nipple clamp before moving onto the next one.

The pain mixed with pleasure as he finished sucking on your other nipple, repeating the action that ended with both nipples clamped, Eric’s name on your lips as you whimpered at the pain. “Remember you can safeword at any time,” he said, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “but I wanna see how much you can take.”

You watched as Eric got back up, rummaging through the box to find the butt plug and lube he was looking for. Your eyes widened when you saw the size of it. It wasn’t that big, but nothing had ever gone there before and you weren’t sure anything of any size would fit. “We’ll start slow,” Eric said, squirting the lube on the plug and his fingers as he pried your asshole open. “Work our way up until you’ve got my dildo in your ass and my cock in your pussy. How does that sound, Babygirl?”

“So good,” you answered, cursing as you felt the tip of the plug nudge against your puckered hole.

The riding crop slapped against his palm and you briefly wondered how he’d gotten it. “Spread your legs - I don’t want to have to tie them open.”

You gingerly did so, bracing yourself for the pain.

“Good girl. Now it’s time to show just how good I am with this crop. Fifteen strokes. Count them and thank me for each one.”

The first stroke was ten times more painful than any of the ones you’d inflicted on yourself and you cried out, automatically closing your legs to protect your sensitive pussy. “Fuck! One!” You seethed, tears stinging your eyes. “Thank you, S-Sir.”

The second was just as intense, landing smack on your clit and you screamed. “Two! Thank you, Sir!”

Your pussy was puffy and swollen, so sensitive you could feel it throbbing in time with your heartbeat when he was done. Eric set the crop down, kissing you as his hands roamed over your body. “You did so good for me, Babygirl,” he soothed, untying the ties that bound your wrists to the bed frame. He kissed each of your wrists, unclamping the nipple clamps and taking the plug out of your ass. “We’re going to shower and then eat something, okay?” You nodded and Eric picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. “Then, we’re gonna come back here and have some good old-fashioned vanilla sex that ends with us taking the best nap of our lives.”

“That sounds amazing,” you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he ran the bath to take care of you.

One Month Later…

Boris had just finished yet another speech to the UK to address the state of the country. The news wasn’t good, and Eric was immediately calling you. “You’re moving in with me,” he said the moment you picked up.

“Wha-?”

“You’re moving in with me,” he repeated. “If another lockdown happens, promise me you’ll move in with me so we don’t have to be apart again. Please?”

You softened, smiling to yourself at hearing him beg and plead. “Of course I will, Eric. I don’t want to go through another lockdown without you, either.”

A week later, all your things were in his place. Your garden was his, and Clay was quickly starting to favour you over Eric after the first day. A second lockdown wasn’t ever announced, and you found yourself selling your place shortly after so you and Eric could enjoy your new life together, grateful something so scary had brought the two of you closer than ever.

#my writing: eric dier #requests: eric dier #lockdown punishment series #eric dier smut #eric dier oneshot #eric dier one shot #eric dier x reader #eric dier imagine #eric dier imagines

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king epilogue: wooyoung || atz

There’s a girl.

She stands in the surf, the waves lapping over bare feet, strands of her hair flying with the sea breeze. Softened by the light of the sun just as it peeks over the horizon, burning orange sets the silhouette of her aflame, it’s as if she’s the sun herself, bringing with her warmth that seeps into cold fingers, gentle light that slowly fills his entire night even before he notices.

There’s a girl, and she’s out of reach.

He tries to take a step forward, to call her name, one hand reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. His lips move and nothing passes his ears, drowned out by the sea wind. But she hears and begins to turn around, and he just wants to see that radiant smile on her face one more time-

There’s a girl, and it’s a dream.

He wakes up.

Wooyoung’s disoriented for a moment, the sea fading away in his eyes to be replaced by the ceiling of the room. The sounds of Yunho’s noisy snores in the bed opposite him bring him back to reality, slowly but surely, and he sits up, one hand rubbing at his eyes while the other drags through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy bedhead.

Light and chain free.

Letting out a yawn, he turns his head to glance at bed next to his and finds it empty, the sheets already neatly folded and pillow fluffed. It’s barely the crack of dawn.

He shifts to the side of his bed and looks out of the window, the familiar smell of sea salt on the air and soft amber light striking the blue aquamarine gem on his bedside table, throwing soft blue and orange flecks of light everywhere in the room.

He watches the sun rise until it lifts away from the sea into the sky, before he gets to his feet and changes into a simple shirt and trousers, slipping the silver hairpin into his belt.

It’s a new day today.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.” Yeosang greets him as Wooyoung slips down into the living area of the house. Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at him. “You’re up early.”

“I had some strange dreams and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I came down here to read for a bit.” Yeosang points at the book sitting in front of him on their dining table, a cup of coffee beside him. “Jongho got us breakfast from Seonghwa’s before he went fishing this morning.“

The fragrance of Seonghwa’s beef stew fills his nose and he sniffs appreciatively, glancing around Yeosang to see the pot hanging over their hearth fire. “It looks good.”

“Hurry, eat and wake Yunho up so we can go. We have a lot of things to prepare today.”

“Isn’t your turn to wake Yunho today?” Wooyoung reaches for a bowl and ladles some beef stew into it, perching himself on the table and legs dangling over the side. Even after leaving the ocean for three years, he still can’t get used to the feeling of sitting down on a chair. “And Jongho’s out early. What for?”

“He says there’s been strange sightings of a giant squid monster further out and wants to check it out for himself, the brave soul.” Yeosang chuckles as he flips a page, and Wooyoung catches sight of an ink drawing of a tentacles monster on the paper. “And as for Yunho, you offered to wake him up this morning yesterday in exchange for me doing the dinner dishes.”

The memory is hazy at best, but Wooyoung remembers stumbling into the house late at night, completely exhausted and on the brink of falling asleep on the doorstep if it hadn’t been for Jongho dragging him into his bed by the scruff of his neck. “Ah, shit. You sholdn’t let me make regretable decisions when I’m clearly not in the right state of mind.”

Yeosang shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Well, it benefitted me, so of course I’d agree.” Wooyoung makes a face at that, sticking his spoon into his mouth. The familiar taste of Seonghwa’s food instantly brightens his mood and chases away some of the fear that accompanies his later task.

All too soon, the bowl grows empty while his trepedition grows. When it is scraped clean, Wooyoung looks down at it with a sigh before turning to Yeosang. “How about we make this a team effort?”

Yeosang shakes his head, eyes shining with amusement. “You’re on your own.” He makes a shooing motion with his fingers. “Remember to dodge if he starts snorting, being kicked by him hurts.”

Wooyoung sighs, rising to his feet. “Yes sir.”

>>>

A few swung fists, a near encounter with a black eye and an apologetic Yunho later, the three of them head out to their usual place, Yunho and Wooyoung trailing after Yeosang with their arms laden with books. The second they near the familiar iron wrought gates, they hear delighted shouting from one of the upper floor windows.

“It’s Yeosang-oppa!”

“Yeosang and his two slaves!”

At the title, Wooyoung laughs loudly, amused. “Even the kids know how much we’re worked to the bone because of him.” Wooyoung jokes and Yunho lets out a snort as he raises a hand to wave to the kids. “Now, if only they would call us by name instead of ‘Yeosang’s lackeys’... I understand how Captain feels.”

“Well, he’s the teacher and we’re just his assistants.” Yunho replies, the three of them stepping into the orphanage compound. The bright faces from the second floor window quickly vanish, and Wooyoung hears the pitter patter of small feet before the front door is thrown open and excited children spill out of the small building.

“Teacher Yeosang!”

“Look, look! I made a drawing of three of you!”

“Teacher Yeosang, read us that pirate story again!”

“Teacher Yeosang, could you help me solve this mathematics problem...”

“Ahh ahh, no need to be impatient, all of you.” Yeosang chides and the children instantly fall silent, all of them vibrating on the spot with excitement. Wooyoung can’t help but snicker at the sight, they’re quite adorable. “Let me head in and get the room set up first, alright? I brought new books for all of you today.”

“You mean we brought the books.” Yunho says loudly from behind him, waving the stack of hardbacks in his hands for extra effect. Some of the children burst out into little giggles, and Yeosang rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.

“The specifics aren’t important.” He retorts, before he leans down to whisper to the children. “If all of you behave, I’ll read the story of ‘Pirate King’ for all of you, alright?”

Their faces light up instantly, before their little hands grab at Yeosang’s clothes and they begin to pull him into the orphanage, chattering excitedly. “Hurry up! I wanna hear the pirate story again!”

“Pirate story! The pirate king!”

Yeosang casts a helpless look back over his shoulder as the children practically manhandle him into the building.

Save me.

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange looks, before they both give him serene smiles and wave simultaneously.

Good luck.

Yeosang’s glare burns into them the entire way, much to their amusement.

In the lesson room, a small dining space cleared of its usual tables and chairs save for one, Yeosang sits before the group of excited children, his book in his hands as he begins to read aloud.

“Legends say that out there, sailing across the ocean somewhere, is a pirate ship called the Treasure that has plundered every land of its gold and jewels.” Sitting at the back of the room, Yunho and Wooyoung watch as Yeosang slips on his reading glasses. The expression on his face is one of calm focus even though the story he’s reading is nothing but a simple tale, and his audience merely a group of young children even though he’s held debates before scholars and distinguished men.

“The kids never get tired of this story, do they?” Wooyoung says out of the corner of his mouth. Yunho stifles his own laughter, his head leaning back to rest against the wall with a quiet thump.

“Well, the writers did make it very dramatic.” He says softly, so as to not disturb the kids. “It was a lot more boring, the way we lived it. From how they tell it, it’s as if we got into battle every week. They completely missed out the most important, boring thing that happened on board, which was-”

“- lookout duty.” Both of them echo at the same time, and Wooyoung snickers.

“The mizzenmast is still better.”

“Even in a pile of ashes, the main mast is still of more substance that yours.”

Wooyoung covers his mouth with both hands and tries not to laugh too hard.

Across the room, Yeosang levels a glare at the two of them and they shut up instantly, Wooyoung miming locking up his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder.

“The pirate king was a terrible, fearsome man with a reputation that stretched across the oceans-” Yeosang’s barely a few seconds into the story when he’s interrupted.

A young boy throws his hand up, eyes shining with excitement. “Was the pirate king huge?” Yeosang pauses, brows furrowed. “Uhh...”

“He must have been really big and strong if he was so scary!” Another girl pipes up, and Yeosang glances back at the two of them for help. Upon finding none, he nods slowly, a slight grimace on his face. “Oh, yes. He was uhh... very big and scary, almost a head taller than Yunho back there and the size of two men across.”

Yunho coughs loudly into his palm, and Wooyoung can see him struggling to keep the smile off his face. The thought of their captain in the proportions that Yeosang described makes Wooyoung want to laugh till his sides hurt.

“The pirate king and his pirate band ATEEZ crossed the oceans and raided several towns, terrifying townspeople and Royal Navy alike. He would catch misbehaving kids... and steal them away!”

The children jump in their seats, eyes wide. “Steal misbehaving children?” One of the more boisterous boys calls out from the back, looking slightly nervous. Yunho grins from behind, rising to his feet silently and taking quiet, silent steps towards him.  Yeosang nods seriously, his eyes flickering towards the creeping battlemaster at the back for a brief moment before returning his attention to the children.

“Oh, yes.” He says, voice dropping to a low whisper. “The pirate king would steal around in the middle of the night, when the lamps burn low and the shadows seem to watch you from the foot of the bed.” The children seem to be completely enraptured by his words, eyes huge like dinner plates and their mouths hanging open, Yunho going completely unnoticed behind them as he sneaks up on that child. “If you misbehaved, he would climb in through your windows or sneak into your house, and then-”

“Ah!”

The boy at the back screams as Yunho pounces on him, and Wooyoung erupts into laughter at the sight. Panicking, the boy’s arms flail for a second and he ends up smacking Yunho straight in the gut. With a loud, dramatic groan, Yunho sinks to his knees, keeling over onto the floor.

“Ahh... you got me good...”

Wooyoung’s laughing so hard now he can barely keep the tears from the corners of his eyes. “You defeated the pirate king!” The boy cheers, and Yunho gets up from the floor, eyes shining with amusement.

Yeosang shakes his head, but Wooyoung can see the slightest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he flips a page. “Now, what adventure shall I read?”

“The one where he raided a town for chocolate instead of gold!”

“Oh, oh! The story when he had to run away from the Royal Navy!”

“When he faced the sirens!”

“Alright, I got it.” Yeosang’s face is gentle, and he turns the pages of his book once more. “I’ll read all the stories that you want today.”

The children cheer.

The morning passes peacefully, with Yeosang wrapping up his storytelling session with one or two (or a whole lot more untruths about their captain). After that, Yunho and Wooyoung take some of the older boys to the backyard to play some sword fighting, while Yeosang teaches the younger ones their letters.

“What do you intend to do for the rest of the day?” Yunho asks Wooyoung as the two of them finish up arranging the books that they’d brought on the shelves. Wooyoung frowns, pondering this for a second.

“Well, I’m supposed to do quite a lot of deliveries for San and Seonghwa today, so I’ll probably be busy till evening.” He says, shrugging before he slips another book into the shelf. “What about you? Training the recruits at the Royal Navy has got to easy as pie for you, isn’t it? You come home before the sun sets every day.”

Yunho shakes his head, laughing. “Oh, no. They’re all talented, that’s it. I’m just teaching them the basics and they catch on fast. Still,” he glances at Wooyoung, eyes twinkling. “It’s funny that we’ve come to this, isn’t it? Two legendary pirates from the story of the Pirate King, one working as an odd job man and the other training the Royal Navy, of all things.”

Wooyoung nods, fingers stilling on the spine of a book. “Yeah. It’s not something any of us would have seem coming.” He says softly.

After the incident three years ago, the Treasure had been turned to matchwood and the crew returned to normal lives for the first time in years. Learning to get used to walking on flat, unmoving ground once again, smelling flowers and grass instead of the familiar scent of sea salt in the air, sleeping in a bed instead of on a hammock, all these were like taking baby steps back to normalcy, one at a time.

“But I like it, you know.” Yunho says suddenly, voice quiet. Wooyoung blinks at him, prompting him to elaborate further. “No more running, no more fighting, just peace and quiet and an honest living.” He turns and grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “I think I’ve had quite enough adventure for a lifetime.”

Wooyoung smiles, turning away to put the books left in his hands on the topmost shelf. “Yeah.” He agrees. “It really was the adventure of a lifetime.”

>>>

San’s apothecary is tucked away from the hustle and bustle of town, right at the foot of a small hill some distance from the port. Barely anyone takes the time to head out there, so Seonghwa’s eatery ended up becoming the place for the townspeople to place orders for medicines and cures. Peace and quiet, San had joked when he’d turned down living with the rest of the crew in town.

Well, it’s certainly a bit too quiet now.

“Oi, San, don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” Wooyoung calls, banging the door with his fist. No one replies. “San! If you’re not going to let me in, I’m going to break in through your window.”

“You’re going to what now?”

Wooyoung turns around to see San standing behind him, one hand cocked on his hip and a bunch of lavender sprays under one arm. “I was only joking.” Wooyoung shrugs with an easy smile, stepping aside for San to unlock the front door. “You’re the one who wasn’t home when you said you would be.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly. “I was out gathering these.” He tosses them into Wooyoung’s hands before he rummages about in his apron pocket for the keys. “How were the kids today?”

“They’re filling up nicely, quite a few can read, and now all of them think that Hongjoong is a monster who sneaks about in the middle of the night and kidnaps children.”

San pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “He’s a what?”

Wooyoung shrugs, grinning. “Yeah.”

“Hongjoong’s going to have a fit when he finds out.” San ushers Wooyoung in through the open door. The apothecary is a small redbrick affair, a simple kitchen and living space connected to his far more sizeable workroom. San says he’s used to it after living on the Treasure for so long. Wooyoung shakes his head.

“He might like it. Yeosang made him sound tall.”

San snickers at Wooyoung’s words, tucking the lavender onto one of his shelves before he points to the many vials and bottles on the table. “Here, all the deliveries for today.” Wooyoung peers at the two empty coffee cups left out on the table.

“Someone came by earlier?”

San nods. “If you had just come earlier, you would have run into Hongjoong. His expedition should be starting anytime soon.” He grins at Wooyoung, eyes bright. “How does it feel heading back to sea again after three years?”

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung says, stepping around San to pack the medicines into his bag. The scent of lavender and ylang ylang are soothing, but nothing can quite beat the smell of the ocean. “Good, I suppose. I’ve been having strange dreams about the ocean anyway. Maybe it’s a sign.”

San pauses slightly, eyes glancing over at Wooyoung. “Strange dreams?” He repeats.

“Yeah, of a girl and the ocean. Weird, I know.” Wooyoung explains, hoping the dreams don’t sound too ridiculous. “I can never see her face, but whenever I see her, my chest feels warm. Light. Calm.” Then he chuckles, fingers wrapping tightly around the neck of a bottle. “The chains around my wrists, they just disappeared when I woke up on that island with Captain and Yeosang three years ago. I don’t know what happened, and I still can’t remember.”

Sudden, slight pain pulses through his heart and he grunts, one hand thumping his chest and San rushes to sit him down on a chair. “Don’t force yourself too hard.” San says quietly, handing Wooyoung a honey covered sweet. “Maybe it’ll take time.”

“I thought I’d get the urge to go to a brothel or something, but I just can’t bear the idea of chasing after a woman other than her.” Wooyoung struggles to explain. “I feel like I’m waiting for someone every time I walk past the ocean. And she doesn’t... she doesn’t even exist.”

San watches as Wooyoung runs a heavy hand through his hair, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “I told her you’d never be able to forget her, whether you remember her or not.” San murmurs under his breath, his heart breaking for his best friend. “When I see how much you’re hurting, though, I sometimes wish I was wrong.”

Wooyoung blinks up at him, confused, as he pops the sweet into his mouth. “Huh?”

San shakes his head. “Oh, no, nothing. Just thinking that Hongjoong came by this morning complaining of weird dreams too.”

Wooyoung gives him a half hearted glare, punching him lightly in the arm. “See, you could have just given the two of us check ups so much more easily if you’d just chosen to live with us. You could share a room with Jongho, you know. There’s no point to having two beds in your cramped bedroom.” He points at the two small beds on opposite sides of the house, and San hesitates for a moment.

He can’t very well say he’s clinging onto a hope, dreaming, waiting for a day someone no one else remembers will come home. He can’t say that it hurts when he wakes up into life of normalcy with the rest of the crew but without her there with them. He can’t say that if she’s not there, he’d rather be alone, where the rest of the crew isn’t there to remind him that he’s the only one who holds on to a past no one else remembers.

So instead, he replies casually, “Well, I got used to having two beds on the Treasure. Besides, it’s a good place to dry extra herbs when it happens to rain outside.”

“You like your space, I got it.” Wooyoung chuckles, rising to his feet. He turns back for a moment just as he’s stepping out of the door. “You’re coming by tonight to Seonghwa’s eatery for dinner?”

San nods seriously. “Of course! How could I miss a chance to look at baby Hwaseong... he called me ‘bubu’ on Monday!” The healer clasps his hands together, shaking his head at just how adorable that little angel is. “It reminds me of the days when Jongho was an cute baby too. Now he hasn’t even visited me for two days. That kid’s growing up the wrong way.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I heard from Yeosang that Jongho has been sailing out further these days hoping to catch sight of a giant squid monster locals have been talking about.” San pauses, fingers stilling on a spray of lavender at Jongho’s words.

“A... sea monster?”

“No need to be scared, you’re living all the way inland anyway.” Wooyoung teases, completely mistaking San’s anticipation for fear. “We might hear some of Jongho’s tales tonight if he catches sight of it. Well then,” he waves his bag of deliveries in one hand. “See you later.”

When Wooyoung leaves the house, San catches sight of the silver hairpin tucked into his belt just as the door closes behind him.

“He can’t remember you, yet he can’t let it go either.” San murmurs softly under his breath as he sits down on the bed opposite his, fingers gently brushing linen sheets. Waiting for someone to come home.

“Chin Hae, please... hurry home soon.”

>>>

The sun is just beginning to set when Wooyoung makes his last delivery for the day.

Making his way to Seonghwa’s eatery by the docks, he avoids the red light district and instead chooses to take the long way round by the sea shore. Footsteps quick and light, he’s hurrying along the beach just as his heart begin to throb once more.

“Ahh, ouch.” Wooyoung winces, face screwing up against the pain. Taking a seat in the sand, he quickly unwraps a painkiller that San had given him earlier and pops it into his mouth, biting down hard on it. The bitter taste spreads through his mouth and he gags. “Couldn’t he have made them a little sweeter?”

With a sigh, he lies back in the sand and waits for the pain to abate. They’ve been getting more acute and serious lately, along with the dreams.

Reaching down, he pulls out the silver hairpin in his belt and holds it up to the light of the setting sun. Orange fragments the second it strikes the aquamarine blue surface, the silver petals catching its light. At a single glance, Wooyoung can tell that it’s a beautiful, expensive piece.

But why would he have something like this?

Three years ago, right after they had been released from the Royal Navy after Hongjoong had signed that contract with them... San had given it to him with tears in his eyes, begging him to keep it with him at all times. For no reason at all, Wooyoung couldn’t understand either why he felt so much pain when he looked at it, and yet couldn’t bear to throw it away.

Up till now, Wooyoung still doesn’t know why.

With a sigh, Wooyoung tosses the hairpin up into the air, making to catch it again. All of a sudden, however, a seagull swoops down and grabs it away with its beak, before flying off towards the ocean.

“Hey!” Wooyoung shouts, scrambling to his feet. But the bird is already halfway out to sea, and all Wooyoung catches sight of is a glint of silver as it drops the hairpin into the ocean.

Wooyoung doesn’t know why he’s so furious. It’s just a hairpin, just a stick of metal, that’s all. And yet his heart throbs even more painfully than before, and he simply looks out over the ocean, feeling despondent. What is he going to do now?

Just as he’s thinking that, however, the tide shifts.

Confused, Wooyoung takes a step back as water washes over the tip of his boots. Is it natural for the tide to just rise suddenly like this? Frowning, he takes another step back, until he hears it.

At first, he thinks that his ears must be playing tricks on him. It sounds like a heartbeat from within the ocean, drums in the deep, every wave that rushes towards the shore keeping its slow rhythm. He looks up.

And sees a girl who was definitely not there less than a few seconds ago standing in the surf, reddish brown tentacles slowly slipping away from her form, sliding back into the sea and vanishing from sight. Wooyoung only stares.

She’s dressed in robes spun from sea silk, the fabric shining gold in the light of the setting sun. There’s a silver hairpin in her hand.

“I believe this belongs to you.” She says softly, and memories surge into his head like a tidal wave crashing onto shore.

Him pressing that hairpin in to her hand the day she got her name. Sitting on the yardam with her head resting on his shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around his in the warmth of his pocket. The chains falling from his wrists, falling free away from their hold on his heart.

“When you come back, I promise I’ll tell you how I feel about you.”

“No, it’s yours.” Wooyoung manages to choke out, as he looks at her... no, you. He feels like if he says any more than that, he’ll break down into sobs. You smile at him, taking a step forward.

It’s another dream, isn’t it? He’s just fallen asleep on that beach and now he’s having the most beautiful dream in his life - that you’re back, that he remembers you, that you’re alive.

“Why are you crying? Not happy to see me?” Your voice is slightly teasing as you draw closer, and Wooyoung startles to feel hot tears sliding down his cheeks.

“No, no, I just... the opposite.” He chokes on a sob. One of your hands reach out to cup his cheeks, gently brushing the tears away from them. “I... I just... I... how...”

“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” You smile, pressing the hairpin into his palm, where he grips it tight. “Can you do my hair again for me?”

He nods wordlessly, unable to speak. You turn around and he takes a few strands of your hair with trembling fingers, lifting it to his lips in a silent, reverent kiss before he starts braiding it back. With every slide of his fingers, the warmth pressing against him starts to sink in bit by bit.

This is real.

You are real.

He’s crying again when he slides the hairpin into the updo to hold it in place. Upon hearing his soft sniffling, you turn around and take his face in your hands gently, prompting him to look into your eyes.

“I’ll keep my promise with you.” You say softly, smiling slightly. Wooyoung only cries louder, unable to find words to speak. “Wooyoung-ah, I love-”

He kisses you hard.

His lips move frantically against yours, deep and hard, as if he’s trying to confirm your existence, that you’re really here with him. He crushes you against him so tight he can feel your heart beat against his chest - you’re real.

There’s a girl, and she’s home.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

[calmlftv]

bad behavior. - l.h.

description: it’s your honeymoon, so it’s time to get a little...naughty.

word count: 2.4k

w/n: to whoever guessed this was inspired by/taken from the maine.....u were right. bad behavior by the maine is so good, pls go listen to it if u have a moment!

warnings: smut, lots of teasing, oral (male receiving)

taglist: @spicycal​ @castaway-cashton​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @thesubtweeter​ @ashisonthefloor​ @ashtonsos​ @loveroflrh​

****

Sunlight filtered through the windows, the light dimmed and softened ever so slightly by the curtains hung over it, the warmth radiating through your body as it slowly pulled you from your sleep, a soft groan escaping you as you awoke. An arm shifted behind you, the sheets on the other side of the bed cold already, and you quietly whined, eyes fluttering open so you could look around for your husband. As your senses awoke you heard the muffled laughter of Luke, a sleepy smile tugging on the corner of your lip as you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You grabbed a pair of old athletic shorts and tugged them on, one of Luke’s shirts covering your torso before you left the room, fingers running through your bed head as you stepped your bare feet into the hallway. 

Luke’s laughter sounded again while you moved through the house, the sound drawing you in like a siren song until you finally found your husband, his laptop set up on the kitchen island as he sat at it, his back turned to you and headphones on as he spoke to whoever was on whatever call he had going. He must have sensed your presence as you walked in and he turned around, a warm smile on his lips as he saw you. You blushed a bit, still not entirely used to seeing him look at you in such a way; your newlywed bliss lining every feature and taking the curve of his lip up in the smile he was giving you now. 

“Good morning, my love,” he said softly, taking his headphones off for a split second as you got closer. You could see the face of Liz on the screen, a smile on her cheeks as she waved a hello to you. You smiled in return as Luke slipped an arm around your waist, one hand cupping and squeezing your ass cheek as he pulled you close and kissed your lips, covering the squeak you made before he pulled away. “Get yourself some coffee, baby, we’re almost done.” 

SIlently you nodded, biting your lip to keep yourself from saying anything revealing while you moved around the kitchen, Luke pulling his headphones on again as he continued his conversation with Liz. Once you had your coffee you leaned against the counter, holding the mug between your hands as your eyes took in your husband, hands lifting the mug to your lips so you could sip on the warm drink. His blonde hair was a bit messy still, some curls going every which way as he smiled and laughed, a hand running through them on occasion as he tried to tame them. He wore a white tank top and a pair of sweatpants, most likely only wearing them to be decent for his mother; if either of you had your way you’d be naked constantly.

Your heart stuttered when he glanced up at you, his piercing blue eyes so clear in the morning sunlight as he gave you a big and bright smile. You were certain his smile was brighter than the sun itself, the warmth it filled you with much more enticing than the sunshine that the two of you had been soaking up all week in your own hidden paradise. When you had suggested the cabin Luke had given you a look, his face reading with lack of enthusiasm for your idea for your honeymoon. It was perfect for you, but Luke was nervous about how remote it was, wanting to be within 2 miles of neighbors instead of 10 like you were now; but after a lot of pouting and pleading you got him to agree, and now you were both in love with your own quiet place. 

Thoughts like that swirled around your brain until Luke carefully closed his laptop, the sound shaking you out of your trance as he stood up and moved over to you, a smile spreading on your face as you placed your mug down on the counter. His arms slid around you as you stood up straighter, his smile reflecting yours as you stood on your toes to press your lips together.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hemmings,” he mumbled against your lips, hands traveling down to the small of your back as he only tugged you closer. He’d only called you by your new last name the entire week, practically refusing anything else in a casual way as he joyously rolled it off his tongue. 

You smiled against his lips, kissing him again as you leaned against his chest. “Good morning to you, Mr. Hemmings,” you greeted back, smiling as his hands traveled even lower, gathering two handfuls of your ass and giving it a squeeze as he kissed you again, a bit needier this time as his hands held your hips against his. 

When your fingers moved to tangle in his hair he squatted down, locking his arms behind your thighs as he picked you up and set you on the counter, his frame settling between your legs as he pushed his hands up your shirt. The skin to skin contact sent a thrill through you as his fingertips grazed your nipples, a soft whine escaping you as his lips moved to your neck. 

“Luke-” you started, interrupted by the shrill ring of Luke’s phone on the island. Both of you groaned, your lips moving to connect with Luke’s jaw as you tried to keep him with you. “Ignore it, please baby.” 

Luke sighed as it continued to ring, sliding his hands from under your shirt as he pulled away. “Might be the airline, though. I’ll make it quick, angel, promise.” 

You pouted but let him go, huffing at the interruption as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter. Luke’s shoulders tensed slightly as he answered, pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Hey Ash, thought we all agreed no phone calls this week…” 

Luke’s hand dragged down his face as he started pacing around the cabin, your eyes stuck on him as he moved around easily. His fingers tugged on his scruff a bit, your teeth dragging your bottom lip as you day dreamed of them tugging off your clothes instead. 

Or, you thought, sliding off the counter. I could do that myself. 

A small smile tugged up the corners of your lips as you moved towards Luke, your arms tugging on his shirt a bit to get his attention. He was listening to something Ashton said, an eyebrow raising as he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes. His hand ran through his curls again as you bunched up the fabric of your shirt in your hands, slowly tugging it over your head before you dropped it on the floor, a sly smile on your face as you met his eyes again. 

The beautiful blues that you fell in love with dragged down your torso as he bit his lip, covering the microphone in his cell and mouthing fuck to you. Your bare skin took in the slight chill of the morning air around you, nipples hardening against it as your husband stared longingly at your bare chest. Ashton’s voice on the other end stopped, Luke’s eyes still dragging over you as your fingers dipped into your waistband, Ashton getting Luke’s attention again.

“Y-Yeah, sorry mate, wife was asking me something,” he said, watching as you slowly tugged down your shorts, letting them pool around your ankles as you stood up in front of your husband, completely and totally bare in front of him as you grinned. His lips were moving still and he stuttered a bit, stumbling over his words to Ashton as you tuned out the exact words he was saying. 

With a single step you closed the gap between the two of you, your nipples brushing against his shirt as you pressed kisses to his neck, smiling as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly. It took all your self control to move slowly, your hands tracing the tent that had started to grow in his pants as you moved down his chest. You pressed kisses to his shirt, not wanting to disturb his call too much before you had the chance to tease him some more, enjoying the feeling of him through the fabric of his pants. 

Once you could feel he was hard enough you tugged on his pants, groaning softly as you saw he was commando too, his cock springing free from the confines it had been in. You moved to your knees and watched Luke’s face, his fingers tangled in his curls as his eyes followed your every movement. You could see a slight pink tint to his cheeks and you smiled, putting your index finger over your lips as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping it for a moment while you kissed around his base. 

Luke stifled a moan as you loosened your hand and dragged your tongue along his length, letting it swirl around him as you moved it to the tip. Once there you pressed open mouthed kisses to his head, watching as his hand moved from his hair to between his teeth as he kept himself from making any noise, your plan going swimmingly as you watched your husband squirm a bit. Finally, you took him in your mouth, slowly moving down his length until you had to stop, pausing briefly as you took a breath before you started moving. 

Your eyes locked on Luke as you moved, your tongue still working him as you bobbed your head along his length. His hand finally tangled in your hair, his fingers tangling there while you used your hand to pump what you couldn’t get. After a second you went a bit deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat as his head lolled back, fingers tugging on your hair as you moaned around him. He let out another groan at the sound, his grip tightening slightly as he hastily spoke. 

“Ash, I gotta go, but I’ll call later, yeah?” After what seemed to be a confirmation Luke hung up, immediately letting out a moan as you took a deep breath through your nose and took him deeper, the sound being music to your ears as you finally got to hear him. 

“God, baby, you look so pretty around my cock like that,” he mumbled, eyes focusing on you as you picked up the speed. As he got louder and closer to his edge you slowed down, only to pick up your pace again as he tugged your hair. 

Once he was close as possible you pulled off of him, pulling away with a string of saliva following your lips as you moved. You met his eyes and grinned, his hand moving to grip your jaw as he pulled you back up to your feet, crashing your lips together in a sloppy mess as he took your hands in his. He pulled back and roughly tugged you to the couch, a winning smile on your lips as you finally were about to get what you wanted. 

Luke roughly pressed your hips against the back of the couch, hands sliding up your torso from behind to cup your breasts. His fingers pinched one of you nipples as his other massaged your breast, a groan escaping you as he lightly tugged on the bud. The massaging hand traveled between your legs, your thighs parting as his slender fingers ran through your slick folds. You moaned again, Luke chuckling against your ear as his erection pressed against your back. 

“Soaked for me and so pretty, baby,” he said, pressing his lips to the sweet spot on your neck as he sucked at it, two fingers dipping inside you as he pulled noise after noise out of you. 

His fingers moved quickly, curling and uncurling until you were gripping the couch cushions, nails digging into them harshly as he fucked you with his fingers. A whine escaped you as he grazed your sweet spot, feeling a smirk on Luke’s lips as he pulled them out, soaked in you as it moved to your shoulder. You whimpered as he carefully bent you forward, his knee gently moving your legs apart as his head teased your entrance. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he commanded, hands squeezing your hips. You stayed silent and earned a harsh slap to your cheek, the feeling pulling a moan from you. 

“I want you to fuck me, Luke,” you whined, grip still on the cushions. “Fuck me until I’m screaming your name over and over again.” 

Luke nodded, lining himself up with you before he pushed his way in, groaning at the sight of his cock sinking deep into you. “Fuck, baby, you always take me so good,” he said, sliding himself out almost completely before he snapped into you again.

The sensation made you whine his name, the sound mixing with Luke fucking himself into you over and over again. You knew you were both already near your ends, Luke’s pace and the way he filled you so perfectly only pushing you closer to your own. 

Suddenly Luke’s hands moved, one carefully circling your clit and making you moan. “Baby I-” you tried, the sensation of him playing with your bundle of nerves sending you over the edge. The sight made Luke groan, you falling over the edge of your orgasm as he fucked into you harder than before, his hands unrelenting as he kept playing with you. 

“Shit baby,” he breathed as you came over his cock again, seeing you orgasm a second time as he moaned. The sight alone could have ended him but he pushed through, finally reaching his own high as he stopped. 

Your muscles jumped under your skin as you both rode out your highs, Luke taking his time pulling out of you as you gathered your breathing. A new ache developed between your legs pretty quickly, Luke helping you stand up straight as he slid his arms around you. 

“I love how bad you are for me, Mrs. Hemmings,” he mumbled, kissing over the slight sting on your neck where he had left his mark. 

You smiled, a breathy chuckle falling from your lips. “Always on my worst behavior for you, baby,” you said, lifting his hand and kissing his knuckles. 

Before you could protest Luke spun you around, throwing you over his shoulder as he carried you back towards your bedroom. You squealed, laughing as Luke gave a light tap to your ass. 

“C’mon, baby, let’s take a bath.” 

“Not like I really get a choice this time, hm?”

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #blurbs.lh

[chaoticdean]

Can I pls pls pls get a sweet fic with Cas contemplating just how exquisitely his husband (i am a sucker for loving married destiel fics) has aged into this *swoons* beautiful beautiful devastatingly handsome man (his beard and the length of his hair *swoons again*) plsss

Sorry it took me an actual eternity, but here ya go! ❤️

[READ ON AO3]

The sun shining light through the curtain slots slowly pulls Dean from a very comfortable sleep, with a side of light grumbling (who the fuck decided it was a good idea to put blinds instead of blackout curtains in that goddamn room?!). The hunter reaches for the other half of the bed, only meeting emptiness and cold sheets, which makes the grumbles turn into groans. He hops on his feet then, making his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, knowing very well he’ll find him here.

“Hi,” he says lightly, his voice still rough with sleep, dropping a soft kiss right there in the hollow of his neck, where it’s warm and inviting and smells just like Cas, “Watcha doing? I woke up and you weren’t in bed with me.”

And I hated it, you know I hate waking up without you all tangled up around me like a goddamn koala, it makes me scared that maybe all of this is a dream and I’m finally waking up to an empty bed in a ghost house.

Both his arms have found their way around the former angel’s waist and are now tucked under his shirt — well, really, Dean’s shirt, but the hunter stopped keeping track of what’s his and what’s his husbands, well over a decade ago already — resting against his bare skin, and Dean tightens against Castiel’s back, even letting his eyes fall shut again as he instantly relaxes against him.

“Hey,” Cas respond with a smile, raising his head and turning just enough to get a look at his sleepy, grumpy husband, “wanted to make breakfast before we head out. There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, if you want.”

“You’re a fucking saint.”

“Well, technically…”

“Babe, I know, shut it,” Dean groans as he smiles, dropping another kiss behind Cas’ ear before he lets go of his warmth and makes his way to said fresh pot of coffee, “Thank you.”

He pours himself a cup — in that stupid one that Jack gifted him last Christmas, the one that says “My son went to Canada and all I got was this stupid coffee mug” and that Dean loves so much — and watches as Castiel finishes making scrambled eggs, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and that old faded black rock band shirt that suited Dean just fine but somehow fits tighter on Castiel’s broad shoulders and muscular body (which is truly infuriating and slightly hot, by the way).

Ten years might have passed since they defeated Chuck, and sure they might have gotten older, hair might have turned grayer, but Cas is looking just as fine as he did 10 years ago (which means he looks like a goddamn model).

Not that Dean has any complaint whatsoever, but he’s self-conscious about himself enough to know he doesn’t look as good as he used to, flat tummy turned into small pudge and love handles be damned.

“How old are you again?” Dean asks over his cup, sipping his coffee as he watches his husband turn around and put the scrambled eggs in one single plate.

“Mhm, 3.92 billion years, give or take one or two millennia,” Cas answers absent-mindedly as he proceeds to wash the pan right away, “but you know that already.”

“Ya, I do,” Dean grins as Castiel dries his hand, looking at Dean curiously.

The former angel grabs the plate and sets it in front of Dean, “eat.”

“C’mere,” Dean motions for Cas to come and sit on his lap, and suddenly his husband his right against him, Ocean blues meet Forrest green, “God, you look beautiful.”

Castiel’s hand finds its way to Dean’s face, cupping his cheek as he smiles wide, and Dean’s find their way under Cas’ shirt again, resting on his back. The silver wedding ring on the former angel’s finger attracts the sun’s light as he lowers his face to kiss his husband.

Dean had thought, back then, that at some point the feeling going with kissing his angel would fade, that it would turn into something normal, some kind of routine, but it never did.

It still tastes like the sun on his face, like he’s riding some stupid rainbow and discovering a whole new galaxy altogether.

“Happy Anniversary, babe,” Cas murmurs against his lips once they part, and Dean kisses him again right here and there, just because he can.

“I love you.”

“I know,” the former angel smiles, “I love you, too.”

It’s not like it’s as taboo as it used to be for Dean. It took him a long time to be able to say it without feeling like he might explode, and he still remembers the first time it passed his lips to land on Castiel’s ecstatic face. But there’s still this thrill going down his spine every time his husband does, this deep feeling of possessiveness, of feeling like he finally belongs. With him.

Castiel glides a finger over Dean’s scruff along his jaw, watching him closely with half a smile on his lips, “you look just like you did back then.”

“Which is?”

“Magnificent.”

His lips are on Dean’s jaw now, making their way to his temple, and Dean delights in the little shiver that goes through his body as Castiel’s lips move on his skin.

“Now you’re pushing it.”

“Beautiful. Superb. Marvelous. Do I get to keep going?” Castiel says, his voice muffled as he goes down Dean’s neck, a silent moan rising from the hunter's throat.

“Mhm, as much as I’d like to believe you, I know you’re lying.”

“I don’t lie.”

Dean rolls his eyes then, because of fucking course Castiel fucking Winchester who “doesn’t get words wrong”, doesn’t lie, except when he wants his husband to feel good.

“All the extra weight on my body and grey hair on my head and face would like to kindly disagree,” he answers with a self-deprecating smile.

“Dean,” Castiel grabs him by the chin, locking-eyes with him, “If you don’t stop bringing yourself down I’m seriously going to get mad.”

“I like it when you get mad,” Dean answers, turning his smile into a mischievous one.

Castiel fits his lips against Dean’s once more and they share a truly filthy kiss, just because they can do that now in the middle of their kitchen, in the house they’ve bought for themselves all those years ago. When they part, Dean still has that dazed look on his face as he watches his husband rise from his lap and feels him press against his back Hal a second later, lips back on his neck.

“You look beautiful to me. I don’t care if your hair turns grey, or if you gain weight, or if you need your 8 hours instead of 4, or if you fall asleep in front of Jeopardy every night. I don’t give a shit, Dean.”

Dean smiles then, Castiel’s lips kissing inside his neck, because goddamit Castiel swearing has a way of going straight to Dean’s dick.

“You’re my husband, and you look beautiful, and I love you,” he drops a soft kiss on his cheek then, both his hand roaming on Dean’s chest, and Dean can’t resist but holding on to those strong arms that still make his night feel safe after so long already, “but if you don’t think you look good, maybe we should head for our bed right now and I’ll show you how beautiful you look to me.”

“That certainly sounds exciting.”

“It does, right?”

“Not sure Sam and Eileen will be on board if we arrive 3 hours late to Charlotte’s christening though,” Dean smiles, already feeling the arousal rise.

“Bold of you to assume it’s going to take me this long to toss you into oblivion, but I also don’t give a shit.”

“Language.”

“Fuck you,” Cas giggles as Dean rises up.

They make it 20 minutes late, and neither Sam nor Eileen has the heart to call them out on it, because both of them are beaming like actual rays of sunshine, and little Charlie can’t get enough of her uncles “Ca’n’Dee”.

Send me a quick prompt and I’ll do my best

(also, if you’ve send me one already and I haven’t done it yet, it’s on my to-do lost, I’m just being terribly and fashionably late as usual)

#look at them being married and soft #married destiel #human!cas #destiel #deancas #deancas fic #deancas ficlet #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #jus writes #a tumblr prompts collection #prompts #domestic dean winchester/castiel #soft #fluff #spn #spn writing

[spaceguybob]

Oniwaka in the Mountains - Date scenario / Fanfiction - PART 3 FINAL

Later that day, you felt something that only could have been described as divine exhaustion. Oniwaka seemed much calmer and cheerful, his eyes following you everywhere like a cat, even caught him standing right behind you a few times when you turned around. He would flash you the biggest grin and find an excuse why he is behind you. Then you decided to let him do whatever he wants and waited, soon after the floor behind you creek, and a pair of big hands enveloped you from behind with his warm breath on your neck. You felt happy.

After preparing food, which was hard considering you had a big Oni glued to your back trying to interrupt everything you were doing, you and Oniwaka sat down to eat. After your very, very long shower, you both changed into loose t-shirts and lounge shorts, and you were amazed how much bigger and bulkier he looks in a simple white t-shirt. Dangerously handsome.

"You alright? You have been staring at my t-shirt all the time. What? Don't you like it?" Oniwaka asked confused trying to read your expression. "I'll just take it off then..." He started pulling the material up but you stopped him and explained. Your face turned bright red as you mumbled it out.  Oniwaka picked your chin with his hand to look directly in your eyes.

"So... I should keep wearing it and then take it off when we are alone, is that what you are saying?" He replied with a sly smile and laughed when you started protesting it was not what you meant. But he knew exactly what you meant, and from that moment he would do everything to catch your gaze. 

"Why are you embarrassed?" He asked at some point seeing you blush again.

Of course, you were embarrassed, and you knew Oniwaka did all those things to make it worse. You decided to take the initiative and you pushed him up the wall, which was hard considering Oni was a mountain of muscle but he didn't resist at all.

"Now what?" He said with a low teasing voice.

"You... You make me... Ugh!" Oniwaka smiled at your lack of words.

"You are so beautiful and handsome in every way and I love you!" You finally said and your words had an immediate effect on the Oni who started blushing himself and tried to wriggle away from your weak grasp. It felt a bit like holding a wardrobe that was about to fall.

"Why are you embarrassed?" You asked this time giving him a taste of his own medicine. But Oniwaka wasn't going to be teased that easily, besides he was much stronger than you so he easily grabbed you and picked up.

"Just... Just shut up" he said with a nervous laugh landing a kiss on your lips.

Once the food was served you are slowly joking and talking, Oniwaka would tease you, especially about the rice balls which you spent hours making to have them look like small animals.

"I wouldn't mind having food like this every day of my life." He added with his mouth full.

"Cute and fluffy? It does take a while to prepare..."

"No. With you." He replied slowly. You couldn't stop smiling after that. After the food was finished Oniwaka seemed even more relaxed, it was something you already noticed early. He loved his food and after eating a good meal would be happy.

With a small surprise ready you asked the Oni to maybe see if there are any board games around. While he was busy with that you washed the dishes and prepared tea.

Choji was very kind with helping you and the treats you brought with you could make anyone dizzy.

Coming back to the main room you saw Oniwaka being excited over a Go game board, then he looked at you carrying a tray and quickly got up excited.

"What do you have here?" On the tray, you prepared a plate with dango and mochi together with some of the special fruit butter and a drink for both of you. "Wha-! Oh man, I didn't have dango in years!" He stole a skewer before you even managed to lay the tray on the floor between you.

"Hey! Manners!" You jest at him with a pretend frow. Oniwaka just shrugs innocently with his mouth full then points at the Go board.

"I challenge you to... Mmm.. uhh... A go game" he said chewing.

You always enjoyed playing Go with Shiro who was good at it and would kick your ass whenever possible at it. Happily, you accepted the challenge, and you both spent an evening getting excited over who is going to win. At one point you managed to win three times in a row only for Oniwaka to take you easily in a next round. In the end, it was a tie between the scores. The Oni rubbed his hands a few times pleased and then stated he will prepare the bed. There was no argument at all that you are going to sleep together, and Oniwaka pulled out the largest futon he could find and set up the bed.

Meanwhile, you cleaned the rest of the dishes and turned most of the lights out. The outside was peaceful and serene as before. Once everything was checked you closed the door and went back to the kitchen to make sure everything is washed or in the fridge.

You heard a grumble and cough, twice now. Oniwaka was trying to get your attention. Already in bed, completely naked with the duvet covering his hips and arms stretched wide in the air, his hands gesticulating for you to come, inviting. And there was this greedy, cheeky smile again. The Oni knew he can get whatever he wanted this way. You quickly undressed, turned off the main light leaving only a small lamp next to the futon and climbed into bed straight into his open arms burrowing your face in Oniwaka's chest. He was both soft and hard, and oh so warm. Within seconds he turned the tables and was laying on top of you, holding your head in his arms kissing your lips, then slowly your jaw and neck. His scruff grew anew since he shaved earlier and was tickling driving you insane. Soon with Oniwaka showering your body with tender kisses, and whispering into your ear how much he loves you, you fall into a long, deep and dreamless sleep.

*

Through your closed eyelids you could feel the light slowly creeping in, surrounding you.

A large, rough hand caressed your head, moving away from the fair from your face. You stop it before it goes away kissing the inside of the palm. Slowly opening your eyes you realize you aren't in bed at all. But wrapped in a blanket, next to Oniwaka sitting looking at... Oh your heart almost stopped seeing the mountains painted by the gold and crimson colours of the morning sun, another valley opened below before you. Surrounded by the blooming peach trees, it felt unreal. Oniwaka sitting next to you, with a mysterious expression, looking at you. He must have gently carried you to here, at the end of the tranquil valley from where you could see the whole mountain range.

"It's beautiful" You manage only a few words. "It's so beautiful." Rubbing your sleepy eyes, feeling a flush of emotions, trying not to show it. The sun slowly crept up your legs than your arms warming your whole body.

"I... A wish we could live like this... Together." You form the words slowly, maybe it's because your mind is still foggy and it all feels like a dream, but you say it anyway.

"Forever?" Oniwaka asks nervously rubbing the side of his hand. "Would... Would you like to be with me forever?"

"Y- yes!" You answer without hesitation reaching for his hand.

"I... Ah... I'm angry with myself. I wanted to..." Oniwaka was struggling to say why he felt getting angry on himself. "I... ah... thought about this for a long time and... It's nothing much because I'm really short on money but... "

He hands you a small wrapping he kept hidden away, his large hands trembling slightly and his face very red at this point.

"Would... Ah... I would like to watch the sunrise every morning with you from now on." Oniwaka says looking directly in your eyes, holding your hand, waiting nervously for you to open the wrapping. Feeling a hot flush in your chest, you unwrap the box and within it, you find a very simple silver ring, with a  lapis lazuli insert, polished to perfection, glimmering and changing colours in the morning sun. The Oni bit his lip nervously unsure what to do, you were unsure what to do, what to say.

"Oniwaka... I..." You start slowly holding the ring. Shocked and at the loss of words.

"You don't have to... If you don't want to." He interrupts you halfway. "I...I'm sorry... I'm an idiot." He turns his head away fidgeting slightly, but you pull the large hand to get his attention back.

"Hey, can I say something first?" You squeeze his palm.

The Oni glares at you with red eyes and a grey face.

"Oniwaka Houzouin, you make my heart very happy, You big idiot. Of course, I want to see the sunrise with you every morning, and see the moon set every night."

The shock on Oniwaka's face was so damn cute you had to smile, then passing him the ring you suggested he should put it on your finger. The Oni gently took the ring and slid it on, wrapping his both hands around your and kissing your palm, and your fingers. Then leaning towards to taste your lips with a smug expression.

"I made coffee while you were sleeping." He reached for a thermos and two mugs that were sitting next to him all along. You gladly take the coffee, filling the warm liquid fill your mouth and then the heat spread pleasantly through the body, cleansing the night fog.

"Hey... Listen." Oniwaka started with a softer voice, his eyes looking directly into yours. "Be patient with me, okay? I've never been close to anyone, I don't know how to behave. It's strange being just two of us... But at least now I don't have to... you know, worry about what I feel. And I can be there for you, and watch you sleep."

You smiled gently, and then move closer to him, having his arm around your neck, both looking at the sunrise.

#Oniwaka #housamo #fanfiction #toko afterschool summoners #tokyoafterschoolsummoners #romance

[archadianskies]

Captain Allen Appreciation Week Day 3: Coffee

→ part of A/9 on Ao3

They know his name is David and his usual order is a venti triple shot long black with a pump of caramel. That’s it, that’s all they officially know about him. 

Physically they know he has olive green eyes, a Clark Kent jawline and though he has dark hair when he’s sporting a little weekend scruff there’s some salt and pepper going on. If he’s got time to stay and read, he sports a pair of reading glasses. 

His manners are impeccable, he knows all their names and always has a dashing smile for them. It’s no surprise everyone’s a little bit in love with David.

“You’ve been here a month now, and you’ve served him what, at least ten times?”

“Oh she wishes she’d served him-”

“Shut up!” 

“What do you think he does for a living?” Her manager prompts, arms crossed over his chest as he nods in David’s direction, the man walking across their line of sight outside before turning the corner.

“College professor?” She hazards a guess. “He seems like a guy who teaches Humanities. Or Literature.”

“I think he’s a personal trainer. You haven’t been here that long but in the summer? You’re going to see him come in a shirt and honey are you in for a treat.” Her colleague snorts back a laugh.

“Lachlan thinks he’s either an author or a journalist.” Her manager adds, before shrugging. “I think he’s a CIA agent. He gives off those ‘harmless but not actually harmless’ vibes. Plus he pays great attention to detail; remembers all our names, remembers even the most boring tidbits we mention.”

“He could just be really nice!” She protests. 

“Or both. I’d love for it to be both.” 

*~*

It’s a beautiful day in late Spring, with the sun out and the breeze finally lacking Winter’s chill. She sees David walk by the window and she can’t help but smooth her apron and thank her luck she’s the one closest to the registers. Pivoting briefly to hand her colleague a spare tea towel, she turns back to find him in front of her.

“Hi David.” 

“Good morning Kelly.” He smiles and she feels her heart leap into her throat. Oh god. Weekend scruff. Reading glasses in the breast-pocket of his button down. “I’ll have the usual, please.”

“Of course sir.” She rings up the amount and plucks up a venti cup, scribbling down the side before reaching over to pass it down the line.

“Will you be a good girl for daddy?” His tone is stern, his voice an octave lower. Heat pools in her cheeks.

“Uh-um- yes?” She squeaks, absolutely certain she’s bright red. When she turns back he’s holding a puppy in his arms. Oh god. Is there an option for employee termination to be literal?

“This is Rosie.” David announces with a proud grin. 

“O-oh! Oh!” She gasps, reaching across to let the pup sniff her fingers before mussing between her ears fondly. “German Shepherd?”

“Yes, ten weeks old.” He crinkles his nose as Rosie licks his chin, laughing softly and holding her a little lower so she can’t reach. “My baby girl.”

“She’s adorable!” Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and is there anything hotter than a hot guy with a cute puppy? She’s yet to discover otherwise. He taps his phone to the terminal before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for his coffee, blissfully unaware a good portion of the cafe is making desperate heart eyes at him. 

A shame she’s not an android like Lachlan and can’t record this memory and replay it over and over whenever she wants. That’s alright. She looks over and Lachlan winks at her discreetly. He’ll send her the file later, surely. It’s what good co-workers do, right? 

“Here you go David, and a little something for Rosie too.” The android smiles, offering a small espresso cup with lactose-free milk foam. 

“Look baby girl, something for you too.” David gasps as Rosie wriggles excitedly in his arms. “Thanks Lachlan.”

“Not at all, sir. This is actually a bribe.” Lachlan grins, laughing in delight as Rosie sticks her nose into the small cup. “In the hopes little Rosie accompanies you often.”

“Oh you don’t need to bribe me for that to happen.” David laughs, kissing the top of the pup’s head as she licks her mouth clumsily to try and clean the last of the foam away. His phone buzzes insistently in his pocket, and he sets Rosie down by his feet, leash looped around his wrist as he answers the call. 

“Allen.” David Allen? Is Allen a surname? His second name? His first, but he prefers his second name David? “On my way.” His whole expression changes and it seems like an entirely different person is standing there. “Thanks again, guys.” David manages, smile small and nowhere near as bright as he scoops up Rosie, grabs his cup and hurries out of the store. 

“CIA agent it is.” Her manager whistles low as they watch David vanish around the corner.

*~*~*

Captain Allen is known for his firm, unwavering leadership, his strict work ethos, and his loyalty to his team. He is known to be a self-sufficient man, neat and orderly, with a wardrobe to match. The man who rushes into Central Station certainly looks nothing like the Captain Allen she is accustomed to, not with the way he’s dressed in a Henley and dark jeans, nor the stubble on his cheeks and jawline, and certainly not the puppy tucked under one arm.

“Stephanie I’m so sorry I just got called in, can you mind Rosie until we’re back? Has Caleb arrived?” He looks harried, hair wind-tousled and she figures if he were an android his LED would be spinning yellow. She leans over the counter to accept the squirming German Shepherd, giggling when she nips at her chin. “Of course, Captain. Caleb arrived three minutes ago and is gearing up with the others.”

“Thank you.” He nods, darting through the security gates.

“Well now little Miss Rosie.”  Stephanie sits the pup on her lap. “Looks like you’re stuck here with us girls!”

*~*

Of course he’s called in when he made plans to have no plans at all. Introduce Rosie to his local Starbucks, buy a coffee and go for a walk. That’s it. The rest of the day would’ve involved whatever crossed his mind until Caleb was to meet with him in the early afternoon. He got as far as introducing Rosie and buying a coffee, which he’d then downed in record time in the taxi. So much for a relaxing morning. 

“Rosie?” Caleb frowns, pausing as he pulls the chest plate over his head. 

“With Stephanie until we get back.” David opens his locker beside him, tugging the shirt off over his head and reaching for the underarmour inside. “So much for our nice day huh?”

“It can still be nice.” The RK900 says lightly, and David can feel his eyes on him, watching him shuck off the jeans in favour of pulling on the standard black trousers. “Just postponed for a little while.”

“We owe Steph a large Tearium when we get back.” David says, knowing the android will note that as an objective. 

“And the two of us can have a proper drink at the cafe afterward.” Caleb nods with a small smile. “Without rushing.”

“Alright.” David sighs, already longing for that soft, lazy promised afternoon as he smooths his hair back in preparation for his helmet. “Alright everyone let’s get this shitshow over with.”

#captain allen #rk900 #Detroit: Become Human #allenappreciation #allen appreciation #allen900 #st300 #annie writes: dbh #o captain my captain #it's me i am kelly at starbucks crushing on the hot man with a puppy

[illfoandillfie]

Seaside Rendezvous - Part 1

Request:  Can you please write a hc for going on a island vaca at a resort with your family after college finals and you meet joe (also a college student) and you two see each other a ton but you are always with your family so not much happens but flirty small talk and you both end up having a lot of sexual tension and go into one of your rooms when you’re family is out and just some smut happens?

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex but generally pretty innocent

Words: 4606

A/N: So this was meant to be just a small blurb/hc thing but it turned into a full 2 chapters lmao what can I say, the idea spoke to me 🤷‍♀️. It’s also the first full Joe fic I’ve done! Set in like the 2000s I guess because I don’t know a single goddamn thing about current celebrities (not that it really matters too much)

Taglist:  @idontbelievethiss @somekindof-cheese @dtfrogertaylor   @ezmina98  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr

In the days before you went on vacation your friends had made a lot of jokes about potential holiday romances. Everything from unsubtle innuendos to fantasies about running into pop stars who would, naturally, sweep you off your feet. You laughed at it all, rolling your eyes at the more far-fetched ideas – as if Justin Timberlake would want you. But, if you were being honest, the idea had crossed your mind the minute your Mom called to tell you she’d booked a family vacation to Hawaii. Not the Timberlake stuff, the real stuff – the potential to have a fling with a cute almost stranger, a couple of weeks spent relaxing on the beach and indulging in meaningless sex. After all, it had been a few months since you broke things off with Eddie and, while you weren’t necessarily ready to rush into anything as serious as a proper relationship, a brief holiday romance sounded almost ideal. Provided you could find anyone attractive enough. And get away from your family for long enough.  

Almost as soon as finals were done you were at the airport, boarding your flight to Hawaii where your parents and little sister had already been for a day. With thoughts of warm sand and soft kisses swirling though your head as you shuffled onto the plane, it was almost inevitable that you’d ended up fantasising about one of your fellow passengers. He’d seen you struggling to get your carryon luggage into the overhead compartment and had come to your aid, lifting the heavy suitcase with ease and offering you a sweet smile and a joke about travelling with rocks. You giggled, less because the joke was funny than that you didn’t know how else to deal with those gorgeous hazel eyes looking at you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say much more than a brief thank you, the crowd jostling around you pushing you towards your seat, a few rows behind him. You spent the rest of the flight trying to subtly watch him, glancing at him from over the top of your magazine. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do for the duration of the flight – the magazine you’d picked up seemed painfully boring now and after finals your brain didn’t feel up to reading a whole lot anyway. Thankfully you had an aisle seat, something that had bummed you out at first but now seemed like a lucky break since he did too. He looked to be around your age, alone, reading. You took in everything of his appearance you could, the slope of his nose, the slight scruff covering his jaw, as you let yourself drift into fantasy. His hands pulling you into the airplane bathroom. His lips trailing down your throat. His fingers slipping into your shorts. He was definitely cute with a capital c, and it was nice to have someone to think about, even if this small infatuation or whatever it was wouldn’t last much longer than the flight. After all, he probably wouldn’t be staying at the same resort your family was, right? Because that would be the sort of thing you’d find in a romance novel or a cheesy movie, not real life. Real life never lined up so perfectly.

At the end of the flight you watched him get up, pull down his own luggage, and leave without so much as a backwards glance. And then he was lost in the crowd as you collected your things and followed everyone towards the arrivals lounge. The sight of your parents and younger sister, Erin, drove the cute passenger from your mind, the infatuation slipping away (as you’d known it would) as soon as you saw Erin waving at you, a big grin plastered to her face. Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace as soon as you were within reach, already asking you a hundred questions – how was school? Did the finals go okay? Whatever happened to that Eddie boy you’d brought home for Thanksgiving? Your Dad pried her off you, reminding her you needed air like everyone else, and began to lead you all out towards the car. On the drive to the resort you filled each other in on what had been happening, catching up on the months you’d missed since you last visited home.

By the time you arrived at the resort, the guy from the plane was so far from your thoughts you wouldn’t have been able to recall the colour of his eyes if you’d tried. Which is why you almost dropped your luggage when you saw him leaning against the reception desk. You mumbled something about tripping when your Mom turned to see what had happened, trying not to let your eyes flick towards him again. Your parents already had the key to their room but you’d booked one in your name as well – twin beds so your sister could join you.   “I’ll get someone to take your luggage up while you sort out your key and then we can all head down to the pool before dinner, sound like a plan?”   “Sounds great Dad, I’ll meet you guys upstairs” you nodded, willing them to leave before Airplane Boy did. If things went your way you could find out how he compared to your airborne fantasies by the end of the night.

Whatever being was watching over you must have been in a benevolent mood because twenty seconds later your family was in the elevator and your fantasy man was turning around, room key in hand, eyes going wide when he saw you. “Well isn’t this a small world,” his eyes, hazel, flicked over you as he spoke, taking in every inch of your appearance and suddenly you wished didn’t look like you’d just got off a plane. “Yeah, who’d have thought we’d both end up at one of the most popular resorts on Hawaii?” “Would have been just my luck if we hadn’t, did you manage to get that bag of rocks back down or is that why you’ve got no luggage?” “I got it down. I had to get help from someone in the cabin crew, but I got it down.” “Well I’m glad someone was there to rescue you. I’m Joe by the way.” He held out his hand. “Y/N,” you said, shaking it, setting the butterflies in your stomach fluttering. “Nice to meet you properly, Y/N.” “Likewise.” You smiled at him, batting your lashes ever so slightly. “Well, if you need any more help with your bags, I’m happy to lend a hand. Make up for not getting them back down for you.” “That’s a very sweet offer Joe, though I don’t think I properly thanked you for the help in the first place,” Oh christ did that sound too much like a line from a porno? Joe's laugh was that of someone a little flustered, cheeks turning pink. “S-sorry, I, uh, I should let you go check in now,” “Probably should do that should’t I? Maybe, I’ll see you round though?” “Yeah, I hope so. I mean, probably, right? A place like this – not many spots you could hide in,” he laughed. “Who said I’d be hiding?” You trailed your fingers over his arm as you walked past him, “See you later Joe,” He cleared his throat, “Yeah, bye Y/N.” You managed to resist the urge to turn around and see if he was watching you walk away as you headed to get your key, kind of wishing you had let your Mom talk you into getting a twin room. Erin was great, and you’d missed her, but nothing said you're not having sex like sharing a room with a twelve-year-old. It didn’t hit you until you were in the elevator that you should have found out his room number.  

“Sorry I’m late, the guy in front of me had some sort of problem. Took ages to sort out.” Definitely wasn’t flirting with anyone.   “Well you’re here now. Still got time to hit the pool so best get a wriggle on.” You and Erin exchanged rolled eyes as you opened your room. It was clean and simple, the two beds taking up most of the space. Splashes of bright green, like the cushions that sat on each bed, and the vase of flowers that stood on the side table against the far wall, were in stark contrast to the crisp white walls and sheets. A balcony gave you a picturesque view of the ocean, and ocean themed artwork hung above the TV and on half the blank walls. You ducked into the bathroom to get changed, finding more artwork on the walls and some decorative shells by the sink. It took you all of five minutes to change into your bathers and grab your sunnies. Normally you wouldn’t have bothered with the bikini for anything less than the beach, especially so late in the afternoon, but there was the chance you could run into Joe again and you wanted him to see you in something better than the old shorts and too big shirt you’d flown in. You gave your lips a swipe of gloss, blowing a kiss to your reflection before hurrying out to join your family, towel tucked under your arm.

The pool was not the single Olympic length one you’d been imagining but rather a series of oddly shaped lagoons of crystal-clear water interspersed with greenery that made everything feel full of life and offered protection from the sun when it was at its highest. It was busy but large enough and spread out enough that it wasn’t noticeable. There were people gathered around the bar, ordering bright drinks topped off with umbrellas and fresh fruit, and relaxing on the many lounge chairs, empty glasses and plates lining the tables. Your father led the way through the hoard of screaming children in the kiddie pool and their parents lazily watching them from the sides, towards a lagoon further back, finding a clear spot at the water’s edge. You’d barely sat down, dipping your toes into the cool water when Erin ran past you to cannonball into the pool, the large splash she made flying towards you. When she surfaced, she laughed at the now wet hair you’d had to push backwards out of your eyes. “Careful sweetie,” your Mom warned, already lying back on a lounge chair with her eyes closed. You kicked some water back at Erin, only half paying attention as you let your eyes wander over the people. No sign of Joe. You sighed, leaning back on your hands and closing your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the low sun warm you while it still could. It felt nice to relax, even if there wasn’t a cute boy drooling over you. You hadn’t properly relaxed in too long to count.  

“Bikini’s a good look,” Slowly you brought your head back up, turning towards your right where Joe was suddenly sitting. “Suit’s you.” “Thanks,” you gave Joe a once over, pushing your sunglasses down your nose a little so you could take in the boardshorts and bare chest look he’d gone for, before tilting your head back to the sky again, “Could say the same for you.” “Don’t think I’d look half as good in a bikini as you do.” You could hear his stupid grin through every word and couldn’t help the laugh it inspired. “So what brings you to the pool?” he asked, shifting so he was facing you and leaning in. “Eyes forward, can’t look like we’re talking.” “Oh-kay.” He did as you asked, dropping his feet into the water and looking out to the other end of the pool, “Can I ask why we’re being so,” he stretched the word out, waving his hand in circles as he searched for the right word, “clandestine?” “Family. Mom’s over there on the lounge chair, Dad’s gone to the bar I think. And technically I’m watching my little sister swimming. Not meant to be talking to cute boys.” “Well I'm flattered you’d break whatever rules you’re breaking for me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.” “I like the trouble. Besides it’s less rules and more that this is the first time I’ve seen my family in months. If they caught wind I wanted to ditch them for a guy I barely know...let’s just say they’d make a fuss.” “So we’re not dealing with like, an overprotective father then?” “Mum’s more of the worry, she’d get like super nosey. But Dad’d be too awkward to be mad.” “Thank God,” Joe mimed wiping sweat from his forehead. When he put his hand back down it was closer to yours, pinkie fingers brushing slightly. You could feel him chancing a glance at you but focused your gaze on Erin, watching as she tread water while talking to another girl around her age, trying to slow your heart beat before it thumped right out of your chest.   He flicked his head forward again, a shy smile still in place as his eyes came to rest on the same spot as yours, “Your sister seems sweet,” “Erin? She can be, but she also inherited Mom’s love of gossip.”   “So gotta be careful around her then,” “Definitely,” You turned your head towards him, finding it difficult to drag your eyes away from his lips once they’d settled there, your own parting slightly in anticipation of a kiss that wasn’t coming. “Sneaking around is kinda more fun though. Think you can get away tonight? Just long enough to have a drink with me?” You hadn’t expected him to be so bold as to ask you out this early on but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise. Even so, you pretended to think it over, taking extra time as if you were running through a list of things in your mind, “Yeah, think so. Just depends how fast Erin drops off.” He threw you a questioning look. “We’re roommates.” “So I guess you’ll be wanting my room number then, since yours is off limits. It’s 308.” “Huh, I’m in 315.” “Well Miss Y/N from room 315, Hope I see you soon.” He pushed himself to his feet and walked away, leaving you with a racing heart, sweaty palms, and a pinkie finger that just wouldn’t stop tingling.  

After dinner you returned to your room, exhausted from the long day and needing to unpack properly. Erin collapsed onto her bed, flicking the TV on and settled in to watch reruns of The Simpsons while you hauled your suitcases over to the cupboard and began to put things away. The two of you talked intermittently, mostly during commercials, about what you were hoping to do on this holiday and how much fun it was going to be. She didn’t mention seeing you talk to Joe which relieved you no end, especially after you’d run into him at the restaurant where you’d had dinner. Just a brief, “Sorry, excuse me,” from him as he squeezed behind you while you waited for a table. His hand had lingered a fraction longer than necessary on your lower back, and it had taken all your willpower not to grab it and place it on your ass. And then he was gone again, lost in the crowd, while you tried to maintain a regular conversation with your parents.  

You’d just changed into your pyjama shorts and a singlet and were about to hop into bed yourself, when you heard a loud giggle from the next room over where your parents were. It was followed by your father’s voice making shushing noises through his own laughter and then, “don’t want the kids to hear us. So glad we’ve got the room to ourselves now.” You and Erin exchanged horrified looks and then you were both moving, slipping shoes on and grabbing the room key, all tiredness forgotten as you just about ran out the door. You only paused when you reached the elevator, realising you had no idea where you were going.   “Is there like a rec room or something we could go to?” You asked, scanning the list of floor numbers for any sign of a pool table or video game console. “How should I know?” “You’ve been here a whole 24 hours more than me,” “I just went where Mom and Dad went!” “Alright, Christ, no need to yell. Well, I know the bar is on flo-” “Typical,” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “All you grown ups care about is the stupid bar,” “Yeah cause you brats drive us to drink,” “You brats drive us to drink,” she imitated in a high pitched annoying whine that made you roll your eyes. “Fine, you’re gonna be a baby I’ll see if there’s a fucking nursery to drop you in. You clearly need to go beddy-byes.” Your bickering was interrupted by footsteps coming up behind you and a familiar voice calling your name. Fuck.

“Didn’t take you for one to argue in the hallways,” “Clearly you don’t have a younger sister then, Joe,” “No, but I do have an older one. She could be real bossy,” he winked at Erin who giggled. You rolled your eyes again.   “Do you know if there’s a rec room or something round here?” “At this time? What’s wrong with your room?” “Mum and Dad are fucking,” Erin chimed in before you could come up with an excuse, looking far too innocent to understand what that meant and for a moment you wondered what else she’d learnt while you were away at college, “I saw you talking to Y/N this afternoon at the pool. Are you two fucking?” “Jesus Erin, language. And stop being so fucking nosey,” “You swear all the time,” “I’m an adult, I’ve earned the right to swear,” “Why don’t we settle this argument back at my room? There’s a Simpson’s marathon on which I’m sure... Sorry didn’t catch this little angel’s name,” Smooth. “Erin,” the so-called angel piped up, sticking out her hand and grinning.   “Which I’m sure Erin would enjoy,” Joe finished as he bent down and shook her hand, “Nice to meet you.” Your eye muscles sure were getting a workout tonight. But Erin seemed pleased with the turn of events so you accepted. Better than getting lost on the way to a rec room that may not even exist. Plus it helped that as Joe stood up he subtly mentioned the bottle of vodka he had stashed in his suitcase.

Joe’s room looked much the same as yours, though he had different art and instead of twin beds, one king sized. “Alright, there you go Missy,” he said to Erin as he handed her the remote control to the TV, “Knock yourself out,” “Please,” you mumbled as Erin raced into the room, kicking her shoes off as she went and then bounced into the middle of the bed. Joe caught you rolling your eyes again. “You do that a lot y’know,” “Only when I’m babysitting. I love her to death but Christ,” If badmouthing your sister was going to earn you another laugh from Joe you could have gone all night. Instead you reigned yourself in, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him dig through his luggage. Finally he pulled out the bottle he’d been searching for, holding it up triumphantly. “D’you wanna sit on the balcony?” “Sounds great,” you followed him out, dodging Erin’s annoyed grunts as you moved in front of the TV. “Not gonna get too cold out here in those adorable PJs? Very short,” Joe said as he gently shut the door behind you. “I think I’ll be fine. But I’ll let you know if I need warming up.” He laughed as he slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, patting the spot beside him. You glanced at the unused chairs but joined him anyway, stretching your legs out in front of you as he opened the bottle of vodka.   “I don’t have any glasses so I hope you don’t mind sharing the bottle,” “Who brings a full bottle of vodka and no cups?” “A college student?” “Fair enough,” “Ladies first,” He passed the bottle over and you took a large swig, hissing a little as the alcohol burned your throat. “You were good with her, before,” you passed the bottle back to Joe, tilting your head to indicate Erin. “Yeah well, don’t just have an older sister, got a younger brother too. Not quite the age gap though.” “She was a bit of...a surprise. But your family isn’t here too?” “Nah, came on my own. Reward for getting through another fuckin year.” “Cheers to that,” you peaked over your shoulder but Erin was completely entranced by the TV. “So you’re parents really just went for it?” “Urgh, god don’t remind me. That’s what the alcohol’s for. Completely unfair that they get to haunt us with nightmares for the rest of our lives and I can’t get a second away from my baby sister.” “You could always sneak away.” “What like, fake being sick?” “God no, too risky. Have you never watched a movie before? Ferris Bueller ringin’ any bells?” “Alright, calm down,” you laughed, “it was just a suggestion,” “Fake being sick,” he scoffed, taking another sip of vodka, “To make it believable you’d have to start exhibiting signs the night before. Then day of you have to give yourself a temperature and make yourself sneeze or cough or throw up a lot. And then what about Erin? She’s not gonna catch whatever mysterious illness you get that clears up in 24 hours. And you can only use it once.” “Jesus Christ. You really have thought about this.” “I got a lot of practice as a kid,” he said with a shrug, “If one of us was off from school sick, all of us were off from school sick.” “Okay smartguy, what do you suggest I do instead?” “Easy. Go with them on whatever they’re doing. Relaxing on the beach, golf course, whatever. Then a few hours in say you need to stretch your legs or claim to have an appointment with the masseuse or something but say you’ll meet up with them for lunch or dinner even. And then you come back here.” “You’re very confident that I’d visit you in my family free hours,” “You called me cute, think I can afford to be confident.” “Touché.”  

It was another few hours before you stood to leave, Joe having stashed the bottle of vodka away long ago, before you had the chance to get completely wasted. He’d told you that you’d thank him tomorrow when you didn’t wake up with a hangover but the part of your brain that remembered why you’d wanted a drink so bad didn’t fully believe him. You’d let him take the bottle with a promise that you could help finish it another night. As the hours ticked by he’d slowly inched closer to you, eventually wrapping his arm around you as you looked up at the partially obscured stars. You encouraged him by claiming you were getting chilly. Erin had dropped off within the first hour, though you were still cautious in case she woke up. Still you were happy to wedge yourself into his side, dropping your head onto his shoulder as you talked about whatever crossed your minds. You’d been even happier to let him kiss you, softly, breaking apart much too soon as Erin snorted in her sleep. That had been your cue to leave, even though your lips still buzzed with the desire for more.   “Sorry,” you said quietly, not quite pulling away from him. “No it’s fine, I don’t wanna get caught out by her either. She’s a feisty little thing,” “The word you’re looking for is nosey but yeah,” “Wouldn’t want her announcing anything to the whole resort,” “Not when sneaking around is kinda more fun,” You both chuckled, trying to keep your voices low as you re-entered Joe’s room. “D’you want me to carry her back to your room?” He offered with all the kindness you’d come to expect from him. “Sure your skinny little twig arms can handle it?” “I lifted your suitcase of paperweights didn’t I. Plus, it’s just up the hall.” “Thought it was a suitcase of rocks.” “Tomato, tomatoe. Do you want the help or not?” “Thanks,” He grunted slightly as he lifted her, one arm under her knees and the other under her back, pretending to drop her a little which had you stifling laughter and shaking your head as you lead the way out of his room.  

The walk back to your room was much too short, though Joe probably would have said different under the weight of your dead-to-the-world sister. You put your finger to your lips as you opened the door and held it. He deposited your sister on her bed as gently as possible, going the extra mile to tuck her in under the blankets she’d so hastily thrown to the side earlier. All was quiet in the room next door and you breathed a sigh of relief as Joe came back out into the hallway. He stood close, the extra inches he had on you much more noticeable now than when you’d been sitting on his balcony. “So, you’ll try to get away then?” Joe bit his lip nervously which only served to make him look even cuter, making you want him more. “Yeah, soon as I can.” “Tomorrow maybe?” “Coming across a little desperate Joey,” you teased, poking him in the chest, “Besides think Mom mentioned something about doing a tour of the island tomorrow, not sure I could get away. But soon, promise.” “I’m gonna hold you to that, Y/N,” “Of course,” There was a brief pause, Joe rubbing the palm of one hand with the other’s thumb as his eyes darted over your head to your sleeping sister and then to the door of your parent’s room. “Fuck it,” he said and then he was leaning in to kiss you again. It started as light and soft as the first attempt back at his room had, almost chaste, but when no third-wheeling sibling or grumpy parent interrupted it changed. His hands moved further around your back, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wobbled slightly as your balance shifted but he held you steady while you wrapped your arms around his neck, tongues meeting with the urgency only an imminent interruption could bring. You lost track of how long you were intertwined, all other thoughts driven from your mind until he pulled back. “Been thinking about that since you helped me on the plane,” you muttered softly, trailing your hand down over his cheek, not wanting to lose contact yet. “How did I do?” His hands hadn't left you either.   “Oh, uh r-really good,” you nodded rapidly. Joe laughed again, “Don’t think I’ve seen you this lost for words before,” You wanted to say something witty in response, but your mind was still whirling with the kiss so all you could manage was a, “spose not,” and a small giggle. Slowly you came back to your senses, realising where you were. “I should -,” you pointed at your room with your thumb, though it was half hearted. “Yeah,” He caught your lips with his once more, briefly, before bidding you goodnight and disappearing down the hall leaving you, once again, wishing you had a room to yourself so you could at least masturbate in peace.

#my writing #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #i hope you like it! #part 2 will be up asap #(this was one of those fics where like #everytime i read over it i wanted to add to it lmao #i eventually just had to force myself to stop #but god im so excited to write p2 #i have it all planned out and theres gonna be some Good Stuff)

[banashee]

We can be whatever we want

The dim light of the rising sun floats through the cracks of the shutters early in the morning and Steve blinks against it. Waking up slowly is still a new sensation to him - as is waking up next to another person. It’s not uncomfortable, and he really could get used to this. He listens to the calm, even heartbeat coming from the smaller body next to him. Natasha has her back turned, cuddled up under the blankets and she’s slowly waking up.

Then, Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. There is a very sudden and ice cold touch on his bare skin, and it takes him a second to realize that Natasha is very much responsible for it. She put her freezing feet right on his lower back and hums happily as she wiggles closer, half asleep but clearly aware of what she’s doing. 

Steve still curses out loud and then half heartedly complains,

“Urgh, your feet are cold.”

 It gets met with a low chuckle from Nat. 

“Yup, and you’re warm.” She’s completely unconcerned and even shoves her feet further up the back of his shirt in an attempt to get more warmth. He’s expected it by now, and despite himself, smiles lopsidedly. 

“So you want to try and freeze me again?”

“No, then I’d have to find another human hot water bottle to keep me company. Too much effort.”

Natasha isn’t even trying to hide the smile creeping into her voice and then she turns around to wrap her arms around his middle and pushes her icy toes in between his legs instead - but he’s prepared this time. Steve happily pulls her closer, one arm firmly wrapped around her and messing up the back of her bright red hair, something she usually wouldn’t let anyone get away with. 

They start the day lazy and comfortable, rolling around in bed. Then they hit the sparring mats together. 

Neither of them shows the other any mercy, and about an hour later, they’re drenched in sweat and sporting brand new bruises. They share a shower where they get to more intimate and even more entertaining things than that and Steve can’t help but notice that apparently to them, beating the crap out of each other in the gym seems to count as foreplay these days. He also finds that he doesn’t mind that at all and doesn’t question what that says about either of them.  

It’s much easier to just live in the moment and enjoy this - whatever it is - as long as it’ll last.

*+~

Steve has made himself comfortable in his own little corner down in the main lab. 

He’s got a whole art studio upstairs in his apartment, because Tony is both over the top in anything and everything he does and very generous to the people around him. The room is large, full of light and equipped with giant windows and just about anything an artist could ever need. Just thinking about how expensive all of it must have been makes Steve's head spin, but he loves the studio and uses it frequently. The only thing it lacks is company though, so he’s often hanging out down in the lab, because both Tony and Bruce spend a lot of time there and the others come by frequently. 

Today, Steve is working on a large painting of a nightly scenery, the New York Skyline in blues, purples and small yellow lights. It’s beautiful, and he loves that he can get lost in all the little details. 

But it doesn't help that he keeps thinking about Natasha and whatever it is they have. They never put a label on it, and while there is a lot of trust and they’re comfortable around each other, he can’t help but think that it’s probably casual unless they agree to specify it otherwise. Which is a problem - he’s not sure how to bring this up to her. Just in case she doesn’t want something committed, which is entirely possible, with the lives they have. Romantic relationships don’t necessarily work out in a case like this, and it’s just easier to seek out the warmth and intimacy of another person at night just to be able to hold onto something without hoping for or expecting anything else from it. 

Then again, romantic relationships are never guaranteed to work out. Steve feels out of his depth in this.

Blindly, he reaches for his coffee mug to drink a few sips. He makes a face at the aftertaste and loads up his brush with more paint while he’s listening with half an ear as Tony pokes Clint with his screwdriver, because he’s sitting with his ass on Tony’s desk while he’s fletching arrows. They bricker and complain like an old married couple. Clint pokes Tony in the armpit with the back of the arrow he's currently holding and the inventor complains endlessly as he throws a balled up, stained paper towel at his head in response. Because they're mature adults like that. 

The two of them are a oddly perfect combination, and Steve (amongst other people) spent the longest time wondering if they would end up throwing hands or proposing marriage to each other by the end of the day - it is a pretty even tie most of the time.

There are backup protocols in place just in case they team up and go rogue together. That fact alone should be terrifying because Tony and Clint left to their own devices mean chaos and fiery destruction on a good day and it still baffles everyone how these two managed to actually start a healthy and loving relationship with each other. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when another screwdriver gets chucked through the air as they bricker on.

Steve doesn’t react to it, taking another sip of coffee - it makes him cringe again. 

"Coffee tastes odd today." he muses, concentrating on another small and detailed part of his painting. It takes his mind off of things. Things like his growing not-so-casual-anymore feelings for Natasha which is really not something he wants to think about right now, hence why he's hanging out down here. 

"Excuse you, my coffee is fucking great." Hawkeye grouches good naturedly from his spot on the desk, putting a feather on the shaft of his arrow in place without looking up. 

Steve just shrugs, keeps drinking. It just gets worse and worse as time goes on and he says as much. 

Tony turns, one eyebrow raised at him and then he bursts out laughing. 

"Steve you giant baffoon, stop drinking the paint water." 

"Wait, what?! “ he looks down into his mug. The coffee now looks suspiciously purple while the mug with the water and his paint brushes looks much, much cleaner. He sighs heavily. 

"Goddammit."

"You have a purple mustache." Clint supplies helpfully and Steve runs a hand down his face. 

"Great, that's just what I wanted to wear today." 

"Impeccable taste as always." 

Steve furiously wipes at his face with the corner of his shirt. But there is no pretense left at this point, anyway. 

“Seriously tho, what’s up with you today? You’re not usually that much of a dork.”

“Thanks very much.” He quips back and then stops for a moment. After a beat of silence, he actually starts talking about the issue on his mind - Clint listens as he starts carving wood for another arrow, and nods along to what Steve is telling him. He’s Natashas best friend after all, so it’s not like he wouldn’t know. Everyone knows, if he’s honest. But he still keeps rambling on.

“Go talk to her. It’ll be fine.” is what Clint finally answers and yeah, if only it was that easy, Steve thinks. Or says out loud, because his mouth keeps lamenting without his permission, which is great. 

“Talk to her.” Is all that Clint says, and he repeats himself three or four more times, interrupting Steve’s increasingly flustered rambling every single time.  After that, Tony chimes in.

“Hey Steve, I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

Tony looks up with a flat look. “Go talk to her.”

“Why am I even talking to you?”

“We’re charming and sparkling company.”

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

“Seriously, go talk to her. This is between her and you, we can’t solve shit.”

Steve is annoyed because they’re right. But then, Tony looks down on whatever the hell he’s working on and says,

“Oh. Oops.”

That sends Clint scrambling off of the table, because “Oh. Oops.” is the very last thing you want to hear Tony Stark say in the labs. Ever.

Clint is grabbing Tony to pull him with him as he puts as much distance as possible between them and the table and Steve launches forward to put himself in between his friends and the small-ish explosion that occurs seconds later. 

The three of them remain mostly unharmed, a bit of scorched hair and damaged pride to be pulled by the scruff like a naughty kitten aside. 

“For fuck’s sake.”

Once again, Steve sighs heavily. He does that a lot around here. 

“Steve?”

“Yes.” 

“Talk to her.”

He glares, because once again, he’s annoyed that they’re right about this. 

Goddamnit. 

*+~

“Stop thinking so hard.” Natasha complains at night. She’s wrapped around him, comfortable and content, running one hand over his shoulder. If Steve had been under the impression it’s gone unnoticed, well, he’s dead wrong about that.

He’s about to say something stupid like “I’m not” or “I have no idea what you’re talking about” but this is Natasha, and she always notices. So the words that are actually coming out of his mouth are

“What are we?” he stops for a second before he continues. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we never really discussed any specifics and, well…” Steve can feel his face heating up. Way to go, Rogers.

Natasha hums in response, pushing herself away from him a little bit. Not much, just enough so they can look each other in the eye. She also keeps her hand on his arm when she answers, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“We can be whatever we want. If you’d prefer to keep this casual, that’s okay with me. But if you’d like this to be more… Because I’d like that.” 

She’s open with him, not hiding, not a single mask or distraction in place. Her green eyes are no longer sleepy, but they’re sparkling and beautiful and Steve could get lost in them. Her answer takes him by surprise, and so does her small smile at his facial expression that obviously gives him away. But he smiles back, and simply replies,

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Then, he asks, “Is it okay when I kiss you?” because while they’ve done much more than that before, it feels like this would still make it very much different.

Instead of answering, Natasha crosses the distance herself. 

They hold onto each other, almost melting into each other. They stop kissing to catch some breath, and Steve gently tucks a lose strand of hair behind Natashas ear, keeping his hand there to slowly stroke her red curls. Both of them are probably smiling a sappy smile that no one else can see and when they finally fall asleep that night, they do so with a silent happiness about them.

In the morning, Steve wakes up to icy feet on his back once again. This time tho, he thinks he might as well get used to that, too, although it doesn’t stop him from complaining. It doesn’t stop Natasha from laughing and snuggling closer, either, so it's all good.

*+~

Prompt No. 58 – "Urgh. Your feet are cold" – "Yup, and you're warm."

#banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #romanogers #ironhawk

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Waking Up in Vegas--Ch. 28

Chapter 28: I Know I Found You

Mera, Afternoon, 3:15 PM

           I looked up, adjusting the brim of my ballcap to shade my eyes as I took in the sight of the Nevada sky. It was a perfect, bright blue that almost perfectly matched Dean’s eyes, clear of clouds with a yellow sun hanging over everything. Warmth radiated up from the ground, biting into the faint chill of the coming desert winter.

           Dean filled the space beside me, tugging the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. He wore a backward ballcap and black wrap-around sunglasses along with basketball shorts and running shoes. A light backpack hung from his shoulders. A water bottle dangled from his fingertips. He curled one arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close.

           “I told you this place was beautiful,” Dean said smoothly. We stood together atop one of the red sandstone rises in the Calico tanks. Other people milled around in other parts of the trail, but there, for just a moment, we were all alone in the muted hues of the desert. In the distance, the lines of Las Vegas were barely visible.

           My first visit to Red Rock Canyon was more breathtaking than I’d imagined. I knew it was beautiful, but I hadn’t fathomed how truly wonderful it was. With Dean there, it was even better.

           He grinned down at me, arm hooked around my neck. “You know,” he said quietly, “this is one of the only places in the world that I feel real. I don’t know what it is about the mountains and canyons back here, but they… they speak to me.”

           I leaned into his side; my arms wrapped around his waist. I could feel his body flex, chest expanding as he took in deep breaths of the fresh air. There was something lighter about him just then. It was like the weight of the rest of the world had fallen away from his shoulders as he’d climbed higher into the hills.

           “There’s only one place that feels more like home than this place,” he continued. Dean twisted in my hold until he could wrap me fully in his arms. I couldn’t help but notice how his hazelnut hair curled from beneath the edges of his ballcap. The scruff on his face had been slowly replaced by a full beard that looked wonderful on him. It was as if he was in some limbo between the goofy young guy I’d met in Florida and the still goofy grown man he was becoming.

           I grinned as I looked up. My reflection looked back at me from the lenses of his glasses. “Hmm, and where’s that?”

           His fingers tilted the brim of my cap upward as he leaned down toward me. “Right here,” Dean murmured just before his lips met mine.

 Dean, Afternoon, 3:20 PM

           I knew I thought it a lot, but I couldn’t help the fact that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. Even with her face slightly red from climbing the canyon and her hair frizzy from sweat, she was gorgeous. From the very moment that she’d agreed to stay with me, to be my wife beyond just a roadside wedding, I’d wanted to bring her here. Red Rock was my chapel, the place where I felt at one with the rest of the universe, and it only seemed right to me to have her there.

           I tasted the salt from sweat on her lips. When I pulled away, she stayed right there, lifted onto her tiptoes, eyes half closed, palms splayed out over my chest. No matter what the temperature, I would always feel her touch as a searing burn against my flesh. I would proudly wear the scars of her fingerprints all over my body if it meant she’d never stop touching me.

           “Goddamn,” I snarled, surprised at the vehemence in my voice. I couldn’t help it if she was amazingly beautiful, that every freckle on her face and the curves of her mouth and the lines of her jaw and the shades of her hair was perfection.

           Her eyes flickered open. The sunlight turned them into a swirl of brass and gold. She smiled, and my ribs crumpled from the blow. “What?” she asked softly, her smile looking gentle and innocent.

           I pulled her closer, tugging her against my chest until there wasn’t space for a breath between us. “You’re beautiful,” I said firmly. “I’ll never forget it, but sometimes it hits me in just the right way and it’s like the first time I’m seeing you all over again.”

           Her lips parted, her mouth making a surprised little o as tears beaded on her lashes. “Dean,” she murmured, her fingers tightening in my shirt.

           I smiled down at her, the love of my life, and brushed the tears from her eyes. “Don’t argue, Mera. I remember how I felt when I saw you that first time. And I know that I’m thankful that I can feel it again. It’s just another reminder of how much you’ve changed my life.”

Dean, Evening Seven Years Ago, 9:49 PM

           “Fuck,” I swore, completely sure that I’d torn my shoulder or separated the whole thing. I knew that I was going to be out for an amount of time that I just couldn’t spare. Not when the promotion was being wrapped up into WWE’s developmental brand. I was two steps away from the biggest shot in my entire career, and I’d just gone and fucked it up entirely.

           I had enough sense to walk straight backstage and to the trainer’s room. No one had a chance to look at me before I disappeared, holding my arm against my side. The room was empty, except for her.

           Mera Reynolds sat cross-legged on a worn padded table, a textbook thicker than my thigh in her lap. By the looks of it, she’d almost read the entire fucking thing. But the second that I walked into the room, she snapped the heavy book shut and jumped to the floor.

           “Dean!” she exclaimed, surprise and worry dancing in her eyes. I felt her eyes run over me, taking inventory. I knew the instant she looked at my shoulder. “Come here. Lie down.”

           I let out an anguished sort of howl when my busted-up shoulder hit the padded table. Tears prickled in my eyes. Goddamn, I thought I was going to bite through my tongue to keep from shrieking in pain.

           She hovered next to me, rubbing her hands together to warm them. “I’m going to try not to hurt you,” she said softly. Her fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, settled there as she counted out the beats of my heart. Every time she touched me, it was featherlight. I could sense her eyes on my face.

           “Don’t fight me, okay?” she said firmly as she started moving my injured arm. “Don’t tense up. Just tell me when it’s on the edge of your pain tolerance.”

           I struggled to breathe as she slowly moved my arm out away from my body and then up into the air. I growled in agony as she hit the place where I couldn’t bear it any longer.

           “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry,” she soothed as she placed my arm back at my side. She kept up a litany of words as she touched by shoulder, applying pressure here or there. “Okay, I don’t feel a tear. Looks like a dislocation. I can pop it back in right here or we can get you to the hospital.”

           “I can’t afford a fucking hospital,” I ground out. “Just pop it in.”

           Mera looked down at me, and I was hit again by the shade of her eyes. Wolf eyes. That’s what they called them in Ohio. I understood the name just then. They were hauntingly amber, irises ringed by bronze, flecks of gold glittering throughout. If I listened hard enough, I was sure I could have heard a wolf howl in the distance. She brushed her hand over my hair.

           “I can give you something to numb it now, but it’s going to hurt worse later.” There was a sadness in her voice, like she hated the thought of causing me suffering.

           I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Pop it in and give me some Aleve afterward.”

           She blinked as if she was trying to hold back tears. Then she nodded and looked me in the eye. “I need you to breathe, Dean. Don’t tense up, don’t hold your breath. Whatever happens, however much it hurts, I need you to breathe. Okay?”

           I couldn’t deny her. She said it with such worry and concern in her voice that I knew there was nothing else I could do. I nodded, but didn’t take my eyes off her as she slowly moved my arm out from my body. She stepped into the place between my arm and body, her left hand holding my elbow and her right palm splayed out on my shoulder where it ached the worst.

           “Slow breaths,” Mera said quietly. In the next moment, she applied a steady pressure on my elbow as she pulled. Her right hand pushed down, shooting agony through my entire body. “Keep breathing, Dean. Focus on your breathing.”

           But I couldn’t. I’d forgotten how to breathe. All I knew was the scent of peaches and sangria that suddenly engulfed my senses. I couldn’t do anything but look up at her and count the freckles on her nose.

           There was a painfully electric moment where she pulled and pushed at the same time. “God damn it!” I shouted, using every ounce of strength I had to not buck straight up off the table.

           Mera’s fingers stroked gently down my arm and settled on my wrist once again. I watched through blurred vision as she counted quietly.

           “Don’t get up just yet. You’ll be dizzy. I’m going to grab a sling and something to help with the pain.” The moment she left, it felt as if the pain hit a crescendo in my limbs. Almost like she was the balm that kept the discomfort at bay.

           Turning my head, I watched her walk out of the room. She looked left, a small smile crossing her face. I heard her say his name and reach for him, felt a stab of jealousy that I wasn’t the only one who got her touches. Mera Reynolds wasn’t mine to want. Hell, she was far too good for a guy like me even if she had been. Too smart, too pretty, and too kind.

           I knew there was nothing for it. I couldn’t stop how she turned me inside out with that smile of hers. But there was one thing that I did know. I loved her, and I would do whatever it took to stay close to her, even if I could never breathe a word of it to any living soul.

 Mera, Afternoon, 3:23 PM

           “Dean?” I asked quietly, cupping my hands against his cheeks. He looked somewhere far away. And there was something deeply sad in his eyes. “What’s wrong?

           When he looked at me, his blue eyes lit up. He smiled and leaned down, dropping a kiss on the end of my nose. “Everything is fine. Because you’re right here.”

_____________________________________________

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @mother-forker​ @houndsofjxstice​ @xbutterflius-effectusx​ @dcnmarvelgamergeek​ @instantbouquetdestinysblog​ @lunatictoosweet

#waking up in vegas #wuiv #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #ofc #oc #wwe #wwe fanfiction #real person fanfiction #multi-chapter #romance #love #pining #angst #mera reynolds #mera x dean #seth rollins

[brutashaswin]

Now, Where Were We? A Brucenat Fanfiction

WARNING: POTENTIAL ENDGAME SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!

Synopsis: A recap of what happened between Bruce and Natasha in the five year gap in Endgame. (Note that Bruce isn’t Professor Hulk yet!)

This is based on my headcanon discussed in my initial Endgame thoughts post. Link: https://brutashaswin.tumblr.com/post/184469692555/spoilers-some-post-endgame-thoughts

 This one is my personal favorite, because it means that Bruce and Nat got to spend at least four years together as a married couple! If you guys like this one, I’d also like to write the post-credit Black Widow scene with Nat and Gamora in the Soul World!

LAST SPOILER WARNING - Let’s get on with the fic!

Natasha woke up with the sun shining in her eyes, Bruce’s warm breath tickling her neck. She stretched her back as he stifled a yawn.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, you.” She whispered with a small smile, turning over to look at his face, which bared the slightest hint of scruff across his jawline.

Since learning of the Infinity Stone’s destruction, the two of them had been sharing a bed in the Avengers facility. They found that it was easier to fend off the nightmares this way.

Nat’s heart still ached, missing the full family unit she had in her team before the Sokovia Accords. On top of that, the Decimation had taken Clint, Laura, and their children away from her. But by Bruce’s side, it was occasionally possible to forget her pain and exchange them for brief, sweet moments filled with love.

Bruce and Nat had gotten plenty of alone time together in the Avengers facility during the past few months, since the rest of the team was off on international missions. Meanwhile, the two of them stayed behind to research and coordinate inter-team communication. While they were grateful that they could finally be together, an achievement almost three years in the making, there were very few things that either of them wouldn’t do to change the circumstances surrounding it.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” He asked, rolling onto his back and outstretching his arm for her to use as a pillow.  

“Mmm...not yet.” She mumbled, snuggling sleepily into his side.

He chucked fondly, sneaking another kiss onto her temple as they feel into a comfortable, drowsy silence.

“Hey, Nat?” Bruce asked, reaching over to brush a strand of her hair (which was now equal parts natural red and bleach blonde) out of her face.

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about getting married?”

“Like, the general idea of marriage, or...?”

He stifled a laugh and tried to calm his nerves before he continued.

“No, I mean like...you and I. Getting married.”

“I’d say it’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard in my life.”

She rolled over so that her body was on top of his, and he looked up at her fondly.

“And I kind of love it.” She continued, craning her neck down to peck him on the lips.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes!”

He sat up and pulled her into his lap as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, both laughing freely for the first time in months.

“You just made me the happiest man alive.”

At this, Nat stiffened and recoiled.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry...I didn’t think...”

“No, no, it’s okay. I just...never pictured this happening to begin with. And if it did, I always imagined that Clint would be there with me. And Wanda, and Laura...”

“I know, I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be. I think we should still go through with it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’ve all been through hell and back, we could use something good.”

“We all deserve a win.” Said Bruce, thinking back to a particular conversation with Steve, which now felt like another lifetime ago.

“You’re damn right.” She smirked before leaning in to kiss him, closing the remaining distance between them.

“So, we’re good?” He asked, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“We’re perfect. Are you still up for making breakfast? I have a telecom with Okoye and Carol at noon.”

“Sure thing.”

“God, I love you.” She said, her face unreadable as she stared longingly into his eyes.

“I love you, too. And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Me either.”

A Few Months Later...

Bruce and Nat sat at a table in the Avengers facility, a variety of papers and photographs scattered around them.

“Okay, so we’ll all meet down at the courthouse...”

“And we’ll have Steve and Tony sign as our witnesses.”

“What do you think we should wear?”

“Oh! Do you still have that purple button up? You look so good in that.”

“I think so. What about you? Do you have that black and white dress?”

“The one I wear with my Audrey Hepburn lipstick? As if I’d ever get rid of it!”

“I guess that settles it.”

“I guess so. Wow...we’re actually doing this. We’re getting married, Bruce!”

“Hell yeah, we are.”

“I just wish there was a way we could pay tribute to everyone that should be there.”

“I know, I do too.”

“Hey, what if we write everyone’s name down two lists. And we can each carry it in our pocket during the ceremony.”

“That’s perfect! Here...”

Nat grabbed a blank piece of paper, and handed a second one to Bruce. Together, they compiled a list of everyone they wished could have watched them exchange their vows.

Clint...

Fury...

Wanda...

Mom...

On and on and on, each name feeling like a personal prayer to each person; to that one girl in the Red Room, to that boy that set next to him in Chem classes, to a certain God of Thunder who just recently stopped returning their calls.

“Alright. I think we’re ready.”

*Two weeks later*

Nat stood arm in arm with Steve outside of the courthouse, taking a deep breath in an attempt to help still her shaking body.

“You gonna be alright?” Steve asked, gently nudging her shoulder and giving her a worried look.

“I just feel guilty. And nervous. But mostly guilty.”

“You’re getting married, Nat, not standing on trial.”

“I know, but...why me? Why should I get to be this happy when so many others...”

Her throat caught before she could finish her sentence.

“Hey, look at me. You of all people deserve this. To have a second chance, with this guy who loves you with all his heart.”

“I’m gonna try not to take it for granted.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Thanks for doing this, Steve.”

“Anytime. I think we all needed something like this, something to remind us that there’s still things worth fighting for.”

They shared a knowing look as Steve gave her a reassuring smile. Suddenly, the door creeped open to reveal a friendly secretary with wide rimmed glasses.

“We’re ready for you!”

Steve led Nat across the room, to an awestruck Bruce in his signature purple shirt. Tony stood at his side, watching over with a warm look of pride.

Bruce and Nat joined hands at the makeshift altar, surrounded by holographic projections of their team members across the galaxy.

“Bruce, repeat after me. I, Bruce...”

“Ya, Bruce,”

“Take you, Natasha”

“Vzyat’ tebya, Natalia”

“To be my wife.”

“Byt moyey zhenoy.”

By the time Bruce had completed this line of his vows, Natasha was covering her mouth in disbelief and crying tears of joy.

When he finished, he leaned in to whisper to her.

“Was that okay? I’ve been practicing for a little while now.”

She was barely able to choke out “it was perfect” through her tears.

“Would the bride like a moment before we get to her vows?” Asked the officiant.

“No, I’m...” She took a deep breath and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m okay. I’m great.”

“Alright. Now repeat after me...”

Nat recited her vows in more graceful, though no less heartfelt, Russian.

“By the power invested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bruce, you may kiss your bride.”

“Give her a good one, lover boy!” Jeered Tony, gaining a cloud of laughter from the room.

Nat wrapped her arms around Bruce’s waist as he pulled her closer to him, and they kissed each other with a passion that conveyed three years of pining, three long years apart, and a lifetime spent together. In that moment, it felt like Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff - Banner were the only two people in the world.

#endgame spoilers #spoilers: endgame #brucenat #brutasha #hulkwidow #bw fanfic

[sassenach-j]

When the Wind Blows

ch 1 / ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5 / ch 6 / ch 7 / ch 8 

Thanks for reading :)

Chapter 9 - Forever

It was a most perfect morning as Sam and Cait woke up in each other’s arms. The sun was beaming through the curtains which produced a warm glow on their faces and lit up the room. They were in complete bliss. 

“Mmmm are ye really here? Or am I dreaming?” Sam’s eyes were still closed as he held onto her tight. “If you’re dreaming then so am I. And if so, I never want to wake up.” Cait snuggled into his neck, kissing him there and breathing him in. Sam lifted her chin, brushing away a few strands of hair covering her face, and softly kissed her forehead. He then moved to the bridge of her nose and then her lips. 

“This is simply the best way to wake up. I’ve dreamed about this since the day you left. To finally be here in your arms. It’s everything.”“And the day is just getting started,” Sam whispered in her ear.

“The sun feels so good on my face. I can’t believe it’s going to be in the 80’s here today and it’s in the 40’s at home! That’s it, I’m never leaving.” “Oh don’t tease me like that, Balfe, because you know I will happily hold you to that!” Sam’s chest twitched under her and she knew he was smiling. “How about we make some omelets for breakfast and then head out to Lion’s Head?” “I am quite famished,” Cait said, looking up at Sam with a playful gaze. “Oh there’s always time for that,” Sam said, biting his lower lip. He took her right then and there. “Well now I’m really famished,” Cait giggled as she rolled off of him. “What a coincidence, now so am I! For food this time.” Sam winked and planted a firm kiss on her lips as they got up and headed towards the kitchen.

They finished up breakfast and filled their backpack with some snacks, sunscreen and water.They arrived at Lion’s Head by late morning and began the climb up to the top. It was pretty steep in some parts, so Sam kept a hand on her lower back in case she stumbled. “Umm Sam, my back is a bit higher up.” Cait laughed not minding at all.“Oh did it slip down to your perfect arse? My apologies,” Sam said, smiling so hard his nose scrunched.

It was so crystal clear out, you could see for miles. The ocean was a magnificent blue with what looked like a turquoise glow along the edge by the shore. “This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen!” Cait’s mouth was agape, looking from left to right and spinning herself all the way around in awe, like a kid in a candy store not knowing where to look first. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life?” “Aye,” Sam responded, lost in her, softness in his voice.She gave him a playful shove, a blush emanating from her cheeks. “You are the most romantic man I’ve ever known.” “You make it verra easy,” Sam said through a smile as he took her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her palm. 

“Now be careful over in this part, it can get a wee bit slick with all the rocks and sand clumped together.” Just as he said that, Cait slipped and braced herself with her hands, her knees skimming the rocks.” “Ouch! You weren’t kidding.” Startled, Sam quickly bent down to help her up. “Are ye all right, love?” “Barely even felt anything, I have knees of steel,” she said with a smile albeit a slight grimace. “Shall we go back?” Sam looked concerned.“I’m ok, really! Let’s keep going. I never feel any pain when I’m with you. But I think I’ll be holding your hand from here on out.” “Oh I can happily oblige with that request, milady.” Sam bowed and held out his hand. “I love how dorky you are,” Cait laughed as she slid her hand into his, their fingers interlocking. 

They continued to hike up to the highest point, taking in the scenery and a few selfies as well. They stood by the edge of an outstretched rock formation and Sam got behind Cait, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. “Wow, this is the most beautiful view with the most beautiful woman. I still can’t believe you’re here!” “And you still have me for another two weeks,” Cait said as she laid her head back on his chest, turning her face up to gaze at him as Sam pressed his lips against hers. 

“So besides my clumsy nature, this was a perfect idea. And a perfect day.” “The day’s not over yet,” Sam said with a wink.  They spent some time up at the top, walking around and taking a few moments to relish in the view and in each other.  They took some silly selfies and lots of pics of each other and the scenery. They then sat down for a while, nibbling on some protein bars and water, while resting their legs before the trek down.

When they arrived back at Sam’s place they went out on the balcony and had a glass of wine. The air had gotten slightly cooler and the breeze felt so good against their body after the hike. “I could get used to it here,” Cait said with a deep sigh. “On second thought, I could get used to anywhere as long as I’m with you.” Sam reached over and gently stroked the back of her neck. Cait’s hair was still in a ponytail from the hike, and she was glistening. “Sam, I’m all sweaty back there.” “Like I would ever mind? You’re even sexier when you’re all sweaty, if that’s at all possible. He pulled her chair closer to him, and softly kissed the nape of her neck. “Mmm salty,” Sam said as he trailed his tongue up towards her ear.” “That tickles.” Cait shuttered as she instinctively brought her shoulder up to her ear.“I have an idea,” Sam said with a wistful look in his eye. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” “It’s a surprise,” he said as he got up and started to walk back into the living room. “Wait, where are you going?” Cait furrowed her brow, wondering what he was up to. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come and get you. Stay right there though. No peeking.” “Sam Roland Heughan, what are you up to.” He gave her a look. “Ok, ok, I’ll stay put.” And with a wink, Sam was gone.

Five minutes later, as promised, he came back out onto the balcony and got Cait. He put her wine glass down on the table and took her hand, leading her through the living room and down the hall into the bathroom. Cait’s eyes widened as she saw candles lit, and a bathtub full of water with suds building up along the sides of the tub. “You drew me a bath?” Cait’s voice was all high and squeaky. “Babe, I love this so much.” “I thought you could use a nice warm bath to soothe your body after that stumble, and clean off those scraped knees. And selfishly, I want to bathe you.” Sam put his arms around Cait from behind, squeezing her tight, planting a kiss on the cheek. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I guess I won’t be needing any of these sweaty clothes anymore.” “Allow me. It’s all part of the plan,” Sam said with a smirk.Sam slowly and methodically helped Cait off with her T-shirt, pulling it up over her head, followed by unclasping her sports bra and sliding it off, as well. He took out her hair tie, and her waves fell amongst her shoulders. Cait slid her bottoms off and turned to face Sam. “All ready! Bathe away.” And as she was standing so close to him, she could tell he was ready for something else entirely.

“In you go.” Sam held her hand as she stepped into the warm, soapy water.  She sank down into the tub with a pleasing moan as the water came just below her shoulders, barely covering the tops of her breasts. Sam was kneeling down beside the bathtub. “Mmm this feels amazing. You’re too good to me,” said Cait, turning towards Sam with her eyes closed as a smile radiated from her face.  Sam moved closer so their foreheads were touching, and instinctively their noses grazed against each other back and forth ever so slightly. “So how do those knees feel now? They look a little better than earlier.” Cait had her legs bent so her knees were now above the water. Sam leaned into them and gently kissed each one. 

“All better now. Your kisses work wonders. They’re magic. I’m cured!” Cait giggled as she caressed his chin, the scruff thankfully still prevalent on his face even after getting it cut for his new film. She loved the feel of his beard, especially as it brushed over her lips and face. He leaned over to kiss her, lingering as he always did on her lips. “Oh do they now? Where else might my kisses work wonders?” A mischievous expression crossed Sam’s face. “Oh I think you know,” Cait answered back, grabbing his hand and placing it between her legs. Sam caught his breath, letting out a sound from deep within.

He began to pour water over her back and shoulders, using a yellow ceramic pitcher he found in the cabinet. He filled back up and continued around to her front, spilling it over her neck and breasts. His other hand was quite occupied at the moment, with Cait squirming beneath his fingers. “Two questions,” Cait began, finding her breath....”why are you wearing all those clothes, and why are you not in here with me?” “Aye. Two verra good questions. I like tending to you in this way, being able to see all of you, and how enjoyable you feel right at this moment. But, I do believe there is room in there for me,” Sam said with a crooked smile. “Plenty of room. And if not, I’ll slide back up against you so we conserve more of the space.” Cait’s cheeks were beginning to flush at the thought. “Well aren’t ye the most thoughtful.” “I aim to please, sir.” And with that, Cait reached over and lifted his shirt up over his head. “Well this is a good start,” she continued. “Now off with those shorts.” Sam did as he was told, and once completely naked he stepped into the tub behind Cait. “Well now I’m enjoying this view quite a bit,” she blushed.

Sam slid in behind Cait, his legs outstretched in front of him with Cait leaning back between them.  He grabbed a small towel sitting at arms length on the counter, dipped it in the water and rubbed the bar of soap on it. He brushed Cait’s hair away from her back and ran the soapy towel over her shoulders and neck, moving down to her back. He then glided his hand along her back, feeling her smooth skin as the soap began to foam on her body. “Oh you can do that all night if you’d like. It’s ok if our skin becomes like a prune. You sitting behind me, thighs squeezing onto me and rubbing your hands against my skin? Yes, keep going please.” “As you wish.” Leaving the towel hanging over the tub, Sam’s hands then traveled around to her front, massaging her breasts, then sliding up to her neck and back down; the soap making everything more slick. He cupped her breasts again, squeezing gently and circling his finger around her nipples. 

Cait’s hands were under the water massaging his thighs, feeling him quite aroused behind her. Grabbing the soap from Sam, she lathered up her hands and reached back, caressing his face, neck and shoulders. His hands were still all over her body, now traveling down to her thighs, grabbing hold with a fierce need, while pushing himself against her. “Have I thoroughly bathed you to yer liking?” Cait reached behind her back, grabbing for him. “Oh that you did. You tended to me quite well. Allow me to return the favor,” she said as she slid her hand up and down his shaft, Sam biting into her shoulder with every stroke. Cait lifted herself up, knowing it wouldn’t be so easy in the water, and attempted to slide onto him. “Ok, this isn’t as easy as I was hoping,” Cait groaned as she just couldn’t manage to slide down. Damn water makes it difficult.” “Hmm how about if we try something new, with the hopes we don’t go toppling off the tub.” “I’m game,” Cait said with a quizzical look on her face. “The water is umm, quite drying, which is quite the oxymoron, but in this case it’s true. How about if I sit on the ledge of the tub, legs dangling in the water for support, and you sit on me the same way. I won’t let ye fall.” “I will try anything with you which results in you inside of me.” Sam stood up and sat on the ledge, grabbing the soap and lathering up his hands which he then covered on his member. “Oh I like this idea,” Cait said as she stood up, back to Sam, and slowly sat down right on him. They both let out a moan as Cait flexed her hips up and down while Sam held onto her, arching his pelvis simultaneously. Cait grabbed at his thigh with one hand and pushed her other hand against the wall. She was panting, her legs tiring, but she completely ignored the strain. “You come up with the best ideas,” she said as Sam’s hand traveled to her front, his fingers teasing her. It didn’t take long for both to find their release. Cait collapsed down on Sam, her full body weight on top of him.

While in bed, in their post sex glow, Sam reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled something out, keeping it tucked in his hand. “I have another surprise for you,” he said with an almost shy demeanor. “Another surprise? You’re spoiling me, Sam.” “Oh I hope so.” Cait saw his hand clasped around something and propped herself up on her elbow, grinning from ear to ear in anticipation. Sam scooted himself up on the bed so he was sitting a bit more upright.

“I got something for you soon after I arrived here in South Africa. Not to sound too cheesy, but,” Sam continued as he opened his hand. “It’s a promise ring. No matter how far apart we are, it’s always going to be you.”

Cait’s face was one of pure surprise and awe and happiness all in one. The ring was stainless steel with hearts etched into the band going all the way around. “Oh my gosh. Sam, it’s so beautiful. I love it so much. I love YOU so much.” She sat straight up, grabbing his face with both hands, kissing him hard on the mouth. “I love you more,” he said as he slipped it on her right ring finger. “I know the distance is difficult, but whenever you’re feeling lonely or if you ever doubt how much I love you, just look down and you’ll know.” “I’ll never take it off,” Cait said as she twirled it around her finger, amazed at this man in front of her. 

Sam brushed her cheek with the back of his fingertips, stopping at her mouth, gently pulling her bottom lip down with his finger. His mouth closed in on hers and they sunk back down into the bed, completely lost in each other, both knowing that this, what they have together, is forever. 

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