#okay i literally wanted to make a set with the bottom two for sam

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: 🩵💗 - literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that’s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

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It Was Only A Kiss

tommy gallagher (warfare) x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k+

summary: Sandwich Shop Request from (getaapologist) | You’ve got a weekend you need to spend with your family, who definitely think you have a boyfriend. So you ask Tommy to step in.

warnings: He does mention he’s a SEAL in here. There’s some kissing. Tommy’s falling in love whether he wants to or not. He wears his dress blues to a wedding. The typical fake dating romp. Very brief research was done, if it’s not accurate, it’s not accurate. Just enjoy it for what it is.

notes: this sandwich got a little out of hand! but order up for Tara! I had this queued for later this week but I couldn’t help myself anymore. Thanks to the girlies™️ for helping me pick which of these to post first. Big thank you to you, darling and to @keeryhours for reading this over. And big thank you to @peachyproserpina for editing (:

If you had ever wondered what setting yourself on fire felt like, you would guess it would be akin to asking Tommy Gallagher to be your fake date for the weekend. 

You had spent almost an hour pacing the small length of your living room, right in front of the coffee table. You were muttering half-formed speeches under your breath trying to work up the courage to just tell him, while Tommy sat quietly on your couch. He was watching you with a confused frown— the kind he got when he was trying really hard to be patient even though he had no idea what was going on. The kind that meant he was worried deep down in his bones, and not just about the hole you’re most definitely walking into the floorboards. Finally, you stop pacing and plant yourself in front of him. You breathe in, pressing a hand to your forehead worriedly as you let it all tumble out, “I really need you to fake date me.”

Tommy blinks and opens his mouth. But closes it when he isn’t sure what to say. “You need me to… what?”

You groan, dragging the hand that was placed on your forehead down your face. “Okay, that sounds bad. Like really bad. Please hear me out? Let me explain it.”

He just nods, his eyes wide and lips parted slightly, like he was bracing for impact. His ears are tinged red and the freckles dusted across his nose are hidden by a fresh new swell of pink. 

You start pacing again, words beginning to tumble out in a rush. “My family thinks I have a boyfriend. I know. I know. It’s this stupid thing— I didn’t even really lie! I just… didn’t correct them when they assumed! That’s not lying? And now my older sister’s wedding is this weekend, and if I show up alone, it’s gonna be a whole thing— pity looks, lectures, ‘maybe you should lower your standards’ speeches, all of it. I can’t even take thinking about all of that right now.”

Tommy’s brow knit together like he’s trying to make sense of the word vomit you’ve dumped right into his lap, “And you want… me? To be your fake boyfriend.”

You stopped in front of him again, two feet and a coffee table away, feeling like you were about two seconds from spontaneous combustion. “Please Tommy? You’re literally my best option. My only option. We’re already friends, you’re nice, handsome, and you’re convincing! It’s just a couple days, yeah? And then we come back here and everything’s back to normal.” But you watch as Tommy hesitates. He’s chewing on his bottom lip. Ears starting to turn a shade of red you didn’t even know was possible— which you know Tommy well enough by now to know that this was a sure sign he was overthinking it. Your eyes start to soften and you sigh. You could almost see the battle within his chest; he was probably worried it would make things weird between the two of you, probably sure you deserved someone cooler. Why would you ask him of all people? Why not Sam? Why not the bartender Kev you’d been seeing a few weeks back? Scratch that. He remembers now, Kev used your apartment as a bachelor pad. But underneath all the worry, the screaming thought in his head… he’s really just terrified because somewhere deep down, Tommy has had a crush on you since the day you’d met, so a lot longer than he liked admitting to himself.

You think you can see the moment he decides, like something clicks and the redness in his face just washes away. He gives you a tiny, lopsided smile. The same one that always makes your heart do stupid little weird gymnastics deep in your chest. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. You aren’t sure if it’s from the mental anguish he went just went through or from dry mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Relief floods your veins and you flop down next to him on the couch. You turn your head to look at him, a grin spreading across your face as you throw your arms around his neck. He goes stiff for half a second, long enough for you to notice— his hands hovering awkwardly before they finally settle against the small of your back. From the way you have him pulled close, you could feel his heart hammering against his own ribs. “You’re a lifesaver, Tommy,” you mumbled into his hoodie, squeezing your eyes shut. And he just laughs, shaking his head. He kisses the top of your head and gives you one good squeeze with those arms wrapped around you and then you let him go.  

That’s how he finds himself standing side by side with you on your parents porch days later. Your hand was hovering just above the doorbell, sucking in a breath, each of your nerve endings buzzing like livewires under your skin. “You ready?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper as you glance up at Tommy.

He shrugs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, just for somewhere to put them. “As ready as I’ll ever be to lie to a whole bunch of strangers.” He grumbles and knocks into your hip lightly, the force enough to make you stumble and hit the doorbell. 

“They’re not strangers,” you huff and roll your eyes, a smile playing at your lips. “They’re just really judgmental. Just… Be yourself, yeah? I like you. They’ll love you.” Tommy knows deep down you don’t mean anything by that. But it still turns his cheeks pink and gives him hope that you thought about him more than you let on. But before he could respond, the front door swings open— and your mom nearly tackles you both into a tight hug.

“There’s my baby!” She holds you tight, and kisses your temple before her eyes settle onto Tommy, “and the boyfriend!” she practically squeals, pushing you to the side. Tommy’s yanked into a hug before he could even process it. You watch as panic flashes across his face for half a second. And then you smile as he melts a bit and awkwardly bends slightly and hugs her back. “Oh, you’re so handsome,” your mom gushed, giving his cheek a playful pat as she pulls away. Tommy stands up straight, “And so tall! Good job, sweetheart.” Now it’s your turn for heat to creep up the back of your neck as Tommy just stands there, looking dazed and confused. He’s smiling like he’s just happy to be here with you. No matter the circumstances. Fake boyfriend? He’ll be the best fake boyfriend ever, even if it kills him, as long as he gets to see you smile for three days straight.

Your dad appears in the doorway next, giving Tommy a once-over— sizing him up like a general inspecting new recruits. And that makes him a little nervous. He squares his shoulders a bit and lifts his chin, a confidence you’d almost never seen in Tommy exuding out. Fake it till you make it, baby. You’ve heard him say it so many times. “Strong handshake, boy?” Your dad asks gruffly, sticking out his hand. Tommy reaches out, still quiet and manages to grip your father’s hand firmly enough that he gives a small nod of approval. Then came the inevitable question tumbling from his lips. “So, what do you do for a living, son?”

Tommy lets go of his hand, suddenly feeling a whole lot smaller as he rubs the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up from his collar. He won’t look him in the eyes. He’s looking at you. Waiting for the nod that they’re safe. He’s waiting for you to let him know it’s okay. So you smile, so soft it helps him calm himself down, and then you nod. So Tommy takes a deep breath and then brings his eyes back to your dads. “Uh… I’m a SEAL. The Navy kind.”

The silence that grew over the four of you standing there on the porch stretched larger and larger. But your mom, the first one to gasp. The sound rattled around in your head like you’d just introduced her to a fucking movie star. And your dad’s eyebrows shot up so fast they practically hit his hairline. “Well, damn!” your dad barks out a laugh and lands a slap against Tommy’s back again. 

Tommy chuckles, pink-cheeked and awkward, a smile on his lips as he mumbles, “It’s not really that dramatic, I promise.”

But it didn’t matter as you lead him inside and away from your parents’ grasp. Your family was smitten with him. Your mom leaned over to you, whispering, topping it off with a wink— like Tommy wasn’t right beside you and could see and hear every move she made. “He’s a keeper.” You looked at Tommy, standing there beside you. A shy smile permanently etched onto his features under the weight of all the attention, and something squeezed tight in your chest at your mother’s words.

Yeah. He is. Even if you couldn’t. 

The rehearsal dinner later that evening was somehow even worse than you’d imagined it being. You tried sticking to the plan, the one you’d laid out in the car over that 10 hour drive home. You’d keep it to light hand-holding, flirty smiles, maybe a forehead kiss if someone was really watching. It was no big deal. But then one of your aunts, a few glasses too deep in the wine served for dinner, claps her hands like commanding a show. Which brings on an onslaught of giggles from her and your cousins, “Come on, you two! Let’s see a kiss!”

Everyone’s eyes are on you two now. And a wave of attention slams into you like a damn freight train. You turn to Tommy, eyes wide. He turns redder than a tomato in real-time. You almost feel sorry for dragging him into this. But he puts on a smile, gives you a little nod— okay, he’s good. You know he’s good now. But your family is relentless and is already chanting— Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!— so Tommy does the only thing he can think of to keep the charade going. He slides an arm around your waist, pulls your chair closer to his, and kisses you. It was supposed to be quick, just an innocent little kiss. Sell the lie and move on. But when his mouth brushes yours— careful, his lips soft— Everyone around you seems to fade away. The hand that had snaked its way around your waist, settles against your hip, grounding you both right there. You could feel the tremor in his fingers. It lasted maybe three seconds, but that was long enough to wreck him.

When you pull back, you shoot him a little smile. Tommy just sits there next to you, staring at you like you’d knocked the wind out of him. The whole room fills with laughter, giggles, and words of love, but he barely heard it. All he could think about was the way your lips felt against his. The way that kiss cracked his heart open wide and had it beating wildly in his chest.

That night, you offer him your bed— you didn’t mind sharing. But fuck he wasn’t crawling into a twin bed with you, having to press himself up against you in ways that certainly would not help him hide this ever growing problem inside his chest. So he just shakes his head and grabs the extra blanket and pillow to set up camp on the floor. “You sure?” you asked softly, raising an eyebrow as you pull your duvet up over your waist. 

You watch as he tosses the pillow down onto the shag rug next to your bed. He lowers himself down with a huff and rolls to his back before covering himself with that comically short and pink blanket. Tommy just smiles— it’s soft and shy. A smile he only reserves for you— He lets out a chuckle and then nods, “Yeah. ‘S your bed. I’m good down here.” He stretches out on the floor. And then he folds his arms under his head, staring up at the ceiling. 

You reach over to flip the lamp off. “Goodnight Tommy.” You mumble softly, letting yourself relax against the mattress. And it doesn’t take long before sleep wraps around you. The house was dark and quiet at this hour. He could hear your breathing, soft and even in the bed above him. It was the only sound he could really focus on.

So Tommy tries to tell himself to calm down. To will all of the thoughts plaguing him away. This was just pretend for you. None of it meant anything. But his head was spinning now. That kiss had certainly felt real. Maybe even more real than the few girls he had sworn he’d loved in his short twenty years. You had felt real. His arm wrapped around your waist, hand on your hip. His lips against yours. If he makes it out of this weekend he’ll never forget about that kiss. And lying here now, wrapped up in blankets that smelled entirely too much like you, it hits him like a sucker punch right to the chest, he wasn’t just nursing a crush anymore. He was completely, stupidly, helplessly in love with you.

And he really had no idea how he was supposed to keep pretending for two more days when all he wanted to do was make it real. So Tommy takes one last glance at your sleeping form above him. He knows he’s gotta get a grip. You don’t love him like that. You’re just friends. Nothing more. And he rolls onto his side, his back to you, willing himself to sleep until the buzz of his alarm. 

You wake up later than intended. There’s a soft rustle of blankets being kicked to and fro, and the faint sound of someone moving about the room. Back and forth from suitcase to closet, to suitcase to closet. Blinking sleepily, you push yourself up on your elbows, using one hand to rub the remaining traces of sleep from your eyes. You grin when you see Tommy— he’s already dressed in a white undershirt and dress pants. He’s shrugging a jacket up on his shoulders and fussing awkwardly with the buttons, like he’s never worn something so regal before. You rub your eyes, much like Bugs Bunny, and take another look. You nearly choke at what you see.

Tommy Gallagher was in his Navy dress blues.

The jacket clings to his shoulders. His chest looked even bigger in it than it did in those too-tight t-shirts he likes to lounge around in. He looks like he could probably carry you and half the wedding guests on his back without even breaking a sweat. The sleeves strain just slightly around his biceps and the gold buttons on the cuffs gleam under the soft morning light. But your gawking session is over too soon, when he catches you staring and immediately flushes red.

“You’re up,” he mumbles, glancing down at his hands fumbling with the buttons on his jacket, like he could somehow disappear into the carpet if he kept his gaze away from you.

You grinned sleepily, stretching lazily, much like a house cat. “Oh, I’m up alright. Look at you, Gallagher.” Your laugh is quiet and teasing. 

Tommy can feel his cheeks heat up as he grumbles under his breath. He tugs at the jacket collar like it’s choking him. “It’s.. It’s not a big deal. Alright? Only reason I’m wearin’ this is ‘cause I don’t fit in my other suits anymore.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting your lip at the thought. Tommy’s other suits too tight to shrug on over those broad shoulders. “You filled out that much, no?”

Tommy sighs like you’ve just punched him in the stomach and he ducks his head. His cheeks are burning brighter and he’s trying anything to hide that right now. “It’s not my fault, okay?” he mutters and sighs. “SEALs’ll either make you big or kill you. Guess I got the big part.”

You laugh softly, shaking your own head. Then you slip off that little twin bed, tug your pajama shorts down just a bit and cross the room to stand in front of him. His eyes flick up to yours for a moment and you reach out to fix the slightly crooked medal on his chest. He freezes under your touch— God, you were trying to kill him. He can’t do this. His breath hitching so subtly when your fingers brush against his chest, that if you weren’t standing this close, you would’ve missed it. “There,” you said softly, smoothing the fabric against his arms. “You look perfect, Tommy.”

Those hazel eyes jerk up to meet yours, and for a second, he swears the whole world was holding its breath. He could lean in right now, kiss you like he’s been thinking about since yesterday. He could— But then your phone buzzes with a loud reminder— The wedding, the one you’re doing all this God forsaken fake dating for, starts in two hours— and just like that, the moment between you is long gone. You both move slowly at first, not really wanting to peel away from one another. Tommy clears his throat and reaches for his shoes as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. You grab your dress and makeup bag and pretend your heart wasn’t doing cartwheels inside your chest. You almost kissed Tommy. Not for your family. Not for show. Just for you. 

The ceremony was beautiful— even if it was a little overwhelming. Tommy didn’t leave your side once, just like you’d asked. His hand rested on the small of your back the entire time, a steady and reassuring presence. Giving you something to melt into. You caught a few of your relatives shooting you heart-eyes from across the pews, mostly your aunts and great aunts. Your mom gives you a little thumbs-up, with a smile so exaggerated it makes you snort out loud. When you lean over whispering into Tommy’s ear, “Congratulations Tommy, you’re officially Mom’s new favorite son-in-law,” he nearly chokes. His hand tightens slightly at your back— it’s barely noticeable— but you feel the way he shifted, like he was struggling to stay still. Like all it would take is one more word to have him giggling and smiling just like you’re used to. So you decide to push just a little more. “You know,” you look down at the way you’d placed your hand against his chest. It’s all for show, of course, “if this were real, they’d probably be planning our wedding already.”

Tommy pulls away at those words, like they burned as they hit him. You tilt your head up to meet his eyes, confused. And you’re just in time to catch him mumbling something about needing air as he pulls away from you and steps outside.

Your heart sank. Shit. Maybe you’d pushed him too far. Maybe the whole fake dating thing was getting to him the way you hadn’t expected. It surely was getting to you in a way you hadn’t expected. You were seeing him as more than just that goofy friend that crashed on your couch when he had a little too much to drink, or snuck your favorite candy into the movies, or remembered you liked tulips and not roses better than any of your dates had ever remembered before. But that’s what friends are supposed to be like, right?

You wait a few minutes— giving him a bit of space, pretending you weren’t internally panicking, you put on a smile, tell family members who ask that Tommy just went outside for a moment— And then you’re slipping outside yourself. You scan the Church’s courtyard until you spot him leaning against a tree. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, staring at the ground like it had personally offended him.

You approach him slowly, carefully, like you shouldn’t even be awarded with his presence right now. You hurt him, somehow. “Hey,” you smile weakly, the words coming out a bit sadder than you intend. Tommy looks up when he hears you— and the raw, open look in his eyes nearly knocks the breath out of you. “I’m sorry for what I said inside,” you reach out to him, but think better against it. So you move to just lean against the tree as well. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just only joking—”

“No, it’s not that,” he cuts you off quickly, voice rough. He’s about to cry and you fucking hate it.

You hesitate, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the way your hands were shaking. You look up at the leaves above you, taking just a few moments to bask in the way the sun heats everything up around you, the way the birds chirp and sing, and then you sigh. “Then what is it?”

Tommy let out a shaky breath, stealing another glance at you as he’s pushing off the tree. “It’s just…” He scrubbed a hand over his hair, the overgrown buzzcut had grown on you. He thinks, It’s now or never. If he doesn’t get this out, he never will. “This isn’t pretend for me, okay?”

Your heart stops right there in your chest. He swallows hard, looking like he was about to bolt, he wants to. God, he wants to. He wants to run and hide like he never agreed to this fucking shit— but he forces himself to stay put right there. He doesn’t move an inch, afraid to even breathe. Just like he was trained to do. But then he forces himself to look you in the eye, to take a deep breath. “I had a crush on you before all this,” he admits softly, voice barely above a whisper. “Thought I could handle it… For you. Thought… y’know, i’ll fake it, have a few laughs, no big deal. You’d get what you wanted out of it and you’d be happy.” He shakes his head, giving a shaky little laugh. He tilts his head up a bit, to stop the tears threatening to slip. “But now I’m standing here thinking about what it’d be like to do this for real. To kiss you and not have to stop. To kiss you when no one’s watching. To wake up next to you for the rest of my fucking life. And I can’t… I can’t fake that anymore. My chest feels like it’s going to explode.”

The world tilts on its axis. You push off the tree and take a step toward him. Your chest was aching so badly it felt like your heart might split in two.

You wanted that too. You take a moment to try and recall each time Tommy looked a little too long. How it would feel warm from your chest straight to your toes. You recall each passing brush of Tommy’s hand and how it had set your nerves alive like fireworks. Maybe you’d wanted this longer than you’d even realized.

“Tommy…” He steps closer too. He’s nervous, his hands are hovering at your waist like he was asking permission without words.

“I’m fallin’ in love with you, okay?” he says, so soft you barely caught it over the breeze. “Might already be there. So you’ve gotta say the word. Tell me to get lost. Please.”

You didn’t really think about your next actions. You just grab him by the front of his dress blues jacket, careful of the pins and you pull him down into a kiss. This one wasn’t for show, it was just you and Tommy out here. This one was everything he hadn’t been able to say in words, every long glance he’d given over the last few years, every nervous laugh he used to cover up how red his cheeks were from watching you cut vegetables, every time his hand brushed yours like he wanted to hold it but he was just too fucking scared. Tommy kissed you like he was starving for it. One of his hands slides up to cradle your jaw, the other wraps around your waist and hauls you so close there wasn’t a breath of space left between you.

When you finally pull back, you’re both gasping. He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t believe this was real. “Still wanna be my fake date tonight?” you ask softly, a giggle threatening to leave your lips.

He laughs, breathless and wrecked. “Only if you’ll let me be your real one after.”

You smiled wider and kissed him again right there next to that tree. You kissed him like there was never a doubt in your mind that this was where you’d end up. Because there wasn’t a doubt, not anymore.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @getaapologist

[eisforeidolon]

To treat Jack like a helpless woobie take Jack seriously as a character, you have to ~*consider*~ the harm Dean did to him! Dean was forced into looking after Jack in a parental way despite his feelings about it would be a terrible parent, just look at how he treated Jack!

I'm not saying Dean doesn't have issues, because ... oh yeah. However? Come the actual fuck on with this harmless abused baby woobie Jack bullshit.

Starting from the bottom, oh noes, Dean was "a terrible parent" to the creature he thought he was going to have to be the one to kill. Especially because Sam was too caught up in his own issues of desperately needing to believe Jack could be good despite Lucifer (so he could believe he was good despite Azazel), and fixated on an opportunity to use his powers to get Mary back. Neither of which are exactly parent of the year material either, sorry. No shit! It was only as they leaned harder and harder into the absurdly fluffly two men and a nougat baby premise (where they even went so far as to give him magical consumption ffs) that it even makes sense to describe Dean's role towards Jack as "parental", because initially he was watching the dangerous monster Sam brought home in the hopes he'd somehow manage to protect both of them and everyone else from an unpredictable, invulnerable supernatural creature more powerful than Lucifer. Whether or not Dean's approach was a good way to treat a potentially explosive nephilim bomb is a whole other conversation, because asserting Dean would be a terrible parent because of that? Okay, sure, don't ask him to act like a parent to a supernatural threat he has no idea how to neutralize that could easily destroy the universe, that's clearly a bad idea, yes. 🙄

Again, when Jack was introduced, the Winchesters were literally concerned he was an unkillable monster and might destroy the universe - possibly on purpose, possibly on accident. Not just because he was Lucifer's son, not just because he was a nephilim, but because he literally almost did when tricked by fried chicken suit. When I consider Jack as a character and try to take him seriously, that includes remembering he's an unreasonably powerful supernatural creature who has issues controlling both his powers and his emotions, that starts out ignorant as a post and gullible as shit. Frankly, IMO, that doesn't improve much as the show goes on. The narrative itself swung wildly from treating Jack like a literal baby to a quasi-adult person to a cosmically powerful supernatural threat. On the whim of the script-of-the-week with little to no consistency. Then, after literally joking how absurd it would be to make an idiot woobie baby creature that didn't know shit Chuck's replacement, they went ahead and made him the new God because ... Dabbernatural, woo!

So yeah, I guess it's not like I actually can take Dabb's pet teenage stu seriously anyway. Let alone get palpitations over Dean not immediately treating poor wittle Jackie-poo like his child but instead the dangerous supernatural creature he was actually set up as when Sam wanted to adopt him for his own purposes.

[slxtarchive]

helllooo can i get a Colby Brock x femreader imagine where the reader and colby are friends and they both have feelings for each other but are too shy to say anything and one of them ends up confessing?

𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩 ✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you thought it was another regular hang out with your best friend colby until suddenly one sentence changed everything ...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. none just the anxiety of telling someone how u feel and minimal kissing :3

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. ty ty for this request i really wanna do more with snc and it can even get a little r rated so lmkkk smirk smirk...hope u like this!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 1900+

ding ding

you heard your phone ring from your room. you were currently in the kitchen fixing yourself up an açaí bowl which you had been craving for the past week.

colby :3: hang today?

you smiled just at the notification.

god, what had he done to you?

you: sure why not i have nothing better to do :/

colby :3: wow you sound so excited

you: omg yes colby brock i would love to hang out with you it would literally make my life 1000000 times better

you looked up from your phone and found yourself literally beaming at your conversation.

colby :3: that’s more like it, pick you up in 20?

you: yeah that’s good can we get food before too plsssss

colby :3: anything for you

you loved his messages and clicked the power button on your phone to turn it off. you set it down and processed your literal two-word conversation.

you were extremely in love with that man.

for the next twenty minutes, you basically did nothing since you were already ready for the day. you went ahead and put your açaí bowl in the fridge to save for later and spent the rest of the time bouncing your leg in anticipation for colby to send you that ‘here’ message.

knock knock

you groaned hoping it wasn’t those kids playing ding dong ditch again.

you open the door ready to go off but instead, you feel like you’re dreaming because in front of you was the most gorgeous man ever.

“here.” he said smiling and letting himself in.

you quickly recovered and rolled your eyes. “oh come in why don’t you.”

you closed and locked the door feeling your heart reach an unhealthy speed but kept it cool.

“where’s sam and why isn’t thee here,” you say done on one of the stools next to the counter.

“thee had to do some work stuff i don’t know what but he seemed very eager to get it done.” he stood on the opposite side of where you were sitting on the other side of the counter. his arms out in front of him leaning on it. his sleeves were rolled up slightly and you saw his veins popping out a bit.

you couldn’t help but stare.

“so is it just us today or what? please say no,” you said jokingly.

“it is and you’ll love it.” he said. “you ready to go.”

“yes sir i’m starving.” you grabbed your house keys and your purse and paced to the door. before you could open it colby was already there opening it for you.

“after you.” he opened the door widely enough for you to get by. as you were walking out though, his hand placed itself on the bottom of your back leading you out. you turned around to lock the door put bumped into him like an idiot.

“fuck, sorry,” you said picking up the keys that you had dropped and looked up making eye contact with him. his hands were on your waist and you could tell instantly because they felt like they were burning.

“it’s okay.” he smiled down at you. his pointer finger touched your chin a bit but then his facial expression faltered. he cleared his throat and moved out of the way for you to lock the door.

you went and locked the door then followed colby to the elevator. you both got in and pressed L.

“so what’s the food choice.” colby said with his arms crossed.

“mmm chinese?” he shook his head. “pizza?” shook his head once again. “mexican?” again. “italian?” again. you tilted your head in annoyance. “colby what do you want to eat.”

he looked down and smiled then learned his throat. “ummm let’s do…chipotle?”

“perfect”

you were lying in colby’s bed eating your chipotle bowl as colby was as well. you both were laughing at the show you were watching and every now and then you’d bawl up next to him and bury your head in his shoulder when the joke was funny enough.

“i’m so full.” you blew a breath out resting your head down.

“me too.” he said taking both his and my bowl and setting it on his end table.

you shifted to make yourself more comfortable and to maybe scoot closer to him.

gosh, you needed to stop.

you didn’t want to ruin anything. you knew how you felt about him plain and simple.

it was hard to keep it a secret but if it meant keeping him around and not losing him you weren’t going to ruin it by telling him how you felt.

you snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the bed move.

“i’m so tired.” he yawned.

you looked at the clock on his bedside table.

11:42 it read.

“oh shit it’s late i should probably get going.” you said starting to sit up. his bed was so comfortable you hated the thought of leaving. totally not because you want to stay with him

“no no, you don’t have to you can stay.” he said as he took off his shirt. you knew you were bound to stare so you looked away pretending to check your phone.

“oh, are you sure i’m serious i can go.” you said getting up and grabbing your shoes off the floor but in one quick motion, he jumped across the bed grabbed your shoes threw them on the floor then pushed you down on the bed.

you made a thump and when you opened your eyes he was on top of you. “stay pleasee.” he dragged out. he was smiling down at you.

he looked so beautiful. it was like time stopped. you felt like you were being dramatic but seriously, it felt like you were under his gaze forever.

his eyes moved swiftly between your eyes and pink lips. at one point, he licked his bottom l,ip and his own eyes were trained on yours for a few seconds.

his smile faltered and you swore you could feel his presence getting closer.

“i…guess i can stay.” you whispered. not noticing how close he got to your face. so close to the point where a strand of his hair was hurting your forehead.

he got closer and you closed your eyes for a split second.

he broke the silence with words you’d never believe you would hear. “you’re doing crazy things to me y/n.” his voice was soft.

crazy things…

“like what?” your eyes flit between both of his.

your heart was beating fast. so fast you thought it was going to jump out of your chest and run away from you.

“you're on my mind 24/7. i never not think about you.” his hand moved to the apple of your teach caressing it softly. he then moved your hair behind your ear. “i want to kiss you so bad right now, but i don’t want anything to change.”

your eyes widen a bit at his proposal.

so he does feel the same about you? you were confused. colby never did anything that remotely made you think his feelings were being reciprocated…but his words right now are making you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. i just couldn’t - you know never mind.” he started getting up. “just forget that happened um i’m gonna use the restroom.”

“colby wait.” you said but you werent looking at him, you were looking at the ground. you were too busy afraid of his gaze.

you heard his footsteps come to a halt.

“i…i never thought you’d feel the same way about me” your eyes started to tear up because of how emotional you were becoming. you despised when you did that.

you stood up to face him and were met with his blue eyes practically piercing through your soul.

“look, every day since we met i knew something about you drew me in. you’re intelligent…sometimes. you have the best humor. whenever we hang out i have the best time. we click so well. you cheer me up everytime i’m sad or depressed.” you listed off looking down at your hands as you counted. you were too nervous to look at him. “you’re just amazing and im the luckiest girl alive to be able to call you one of my best friends.” you continued. making eye contact with nothing but the floor.

what a way to end it y/n. you thought to yourself.

you didn’t want colby to regret his words. the last thing you needed was to fall hard for him, even more than you have now, and for him to get over it in a week or two. you weren’t degrading your best friends' relationship skills (if that's what you call them) but in the end, you needed to focus on yourself and do what's right for you.

“i really don't want you to regret your words.” you started to ramble. “i like you and i love you. i don't know what kind of love i…i of course love you as my best friend but like each day i spend time with you i just i feel like im getting closer to falling in love with you but take my words with a grain of salt please because i…i cant lose you.” you felt like you lost your breath. as you tried to calm down you felt a pair of eyes burning into you.

you finally looked up and met those same blue eyes once again.

“please…say something colby. i just-“ before you could even finish your sentence colby raced towards you and swiftly held your face in his hands and your lips met.

you’d only dreamed of this moment. you never once thought it would come true.

as soon as you started to kiss back he grabbed on your waist causing you to thread your hands in his hair. the closeness was making you dizzy causing you to pull away.

when you disconnected your lips and opened your eyes colby leaned forward again neediness in his eyes.

“what are we doing colby.” you sighed your hands still wrapped around his neck in his hair and his on your waist trying to pull you closer.

“y/n, i want you now, tomorrow, yesterday, last year, next year i don't care. i just want to be with you. i love you and i want you to know that you would never just be a quick one-and-done relationship to me. i want to do this with you, please.” his words struck you by surprise. you were aware he implied all this earlier but yet you were still hesitant.

“promise me nothing will change.” you whispered with your head to his chest.

“i cant promise that, baby. but i can promise i will try my hardest for you. i want us to work okay?” the pet name made your heart jump.

god you really didn’t wanna lose him.

“you’ll still be my best friend right?” you looked up at him.

“of course.” he chuckled. “i need to be annoying you 24/7.”

you smile and laugh.

“i’ve always loved your laugh. you’re the most beautiful girl ever.” he said making you shy away into his shoulder. “you know that right?”

“you make me believe so.” you said.

he kissed the top of your head then brought his hand to your chin lifting your head up to face his direction. he then leaned down and pecked your lips.

you could get used to this.

“i hope you believe it because it’s true.”

© slxtarchive

[alchemist-of-altoids]

TW: Vivi/dissection, parental abuse, suicidal ideation, dehumanization, dissociation, violence

Sorry for not updating this sooner. Anyways, this is the longest part yet, and also by far the darkest. This chapter gets pretty graphic, so be careful. Don’t worry, this is the worst before it gets better.

“Dude! Hell yeah!” Tucker said! “The Justice League has been kicking ass since you met them!”

“And you’re finally getting some real help.” Sam smiled. “It’s about time.”

“Hey, Val’s super helpful!” Danny argued. “And she barely ever tries to kill me anymore!”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly reassuring.” Sam said flatly. “But seriously, them getting rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts and the GIW has been a huge help.”

“I know!” Danny said. “That’s why tonight, I’m going into the Zone to get gifts for them.”

“Do you know what you’re going to get them?” Tucker asked.

“Yeah. I can’t tell what I’m doing for Batman, because that would reveal his identity. And, out of professional respect, I can’t do that.” Danny said.

“Boo! Lame!” Tucker threw his napkin at Danny.

“What’s the point of having a superhero friend if they don’t tell us the juicy superhero gossip?” Sam complained as well.

“Yeah, yeah, complain all you want. You two can figure it out yourselves.” Danny said. “But for Martian Manhunter and Superman, I got some messages from their families and a plant from their planet. For Wonder Woman, I had a sword and shield made. Nth metal, ectoplasmic coating, magical reinforcements, and an engraving from Pandora herself. And then for the magic dude, I’m collecting his soul. He’s sold it so many times. It’s in literally hundreds of pieces. I’m picking up the last 4 tonight. Ancients these past few weeks have been so tedious.”

“Damn, you continue to be the absolute best gift giver I’ve ever met in my life.” Tucker said. “Well, good luck. I still haven’t started on Lancer’s essay. See ya!”

“Bye Tuck.” Danny called. “I should probably get going too. Wanna get a head start on this.”

“Okay. We hanging out this weekend?” Sam asked.

“Definitely.” Danny smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

When Danny walked into the house, something felt off. He had the feeling in the bottom of his stomach he gets on bad days, before he knows what’s going to go wrong. He decided to hurry up and get into the Zone, before his parents got home. So he quickly transformed and went through the portal. He was going to get the gifts, and leave as soon as possible. If he was lucky he might be able to get five hours of sleep tonight. However, in his haste, he failed to notice the new camera set up in the lab

“Is that enough proof for you?”

“I… yes.”

“Good. Then I trust you’ll take care of this.”

“Of course. That ghost will pay for mimicking my son.”

“It’s going to wish it never formed. Thank you Agent A.”

“I’m just glad to see someone can keep up the work of the Ghost Investigation Ward. I’ll be in touch.”

Three hours had passed since Phantom went through their portal, and the Fentons were prepared. They were going to make up for not noticing earlier. For not realizing that Phantom had killed their son and was pretending to be him. As soon as Phantom came through, they would catch him in the Fenton Fishing Net. Then, they’d use an aerosolized blood blossom gas to knock him out. After that, it was smooth sailing.

They were glad Jazz was living in her college’s dorms. Not only was tonight likely going to be very, very loud. But also, Jazz was so vulnerable to ghosts’ manipulation. She thought they were thinking, feeling beings. If she knew what they were doing she’d try to stop them. She may even believe that Phantom is Danny.

“How did we not notice…” Jack said sadly.

“We didn’t know ghosts could do that. Phantom may be a special kind of ghost.” Maddie reassured her husband. “He was very convincing.”

“I just… I can’t believe any of this.” Jack said. “I saw it with my own eyes, and it doesn’t feel real. I just talked with him yesterday. He talks and acts just like my boy…”

“I know sweetie.” Maddie said, resting her hands on her husband. “But we’ll fix this. We’ll avenge our son.”

“Don’t worry Danno. You’ll finally be able to rest in peace after tonight.”

“They’re beautiful…” Danny said, staring at the sword and shield Pandora had made. The sword was a large xiphos. The crossguard was shaped like a ‘W’, with the Nth metal cast to look gold. The handle was leather made from the pelt of a Nemean lion, dyed to be a bright red. The pommel was made of ecto-ice. The shield was similarly beautiful. It had a red ring, lined with gold trim, around the edge, going about three inches towards the center, with six stars evenly spaced. The center of the shield was a deep blue. And as the true centerpiece of the shield, there was Wonder Woman’s insignia, cast in the same gold as the stars. The wings on the ‘Ws’ extended to the edge of the shield.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Pandora said.

“Ugh, please stop it!” Danny playfully moaned at this. “I’m so sick of the titles and platitudes! Ancients, if I’d known taking down Pariah would mean I’d have to deal with this I would’ve made someone else do it.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Pandora said.

“No I wouldn’t.” Danny agreed with a sigh. “But seriously, thank you. I can’t wait to give this to her.”

“Of course. It was my pleasure.” Pandora said, wrapping the sword and shield in a leather cover, and putting them in Danny’s bag of gifts. “If I recall correctly, this is your final one, is it not?”

“Yep! Got everything I need!” Danny said, grabbing the bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “It was good seeing you!”

“You as well Danny.” Pandora smiled fondly. “Remember, we have a lesson in two weeks!”

“I’ll be there!” Danny smiled back as he flew off in the direction of the portal.

“Man, this was easier than expected. Constantine’s soul was a pain in the ass,but it wasn’t really all that hard.” Danny said. He pulled out his phone as he approached the metal ring that meant he was home. “Oh man, I really did it! I’m getting five hours tonight!”

Danny excitedly flew through the portal. Except, the second he was on the other side, he was trapped in a net.

“Oh man. I can’t believe I got caught like this.” Danny groaned. “Any chance you’ll just let me go?”

Danny got worried when they didn’t respond. Simply walked forward with some sort of spray bottle.

“You’re going to regret what you did to our boy.” Maddie said, leveling the nozzle of the aerosol solution at Danny.. At that, Danny’s eyes widened in fear.

“No, I swear it’s not what you think! I-” Danny didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Ugh…” Danny groaned as he woke up. He lifted his hand to- Danny’s eyes snapped open. He looked down at himself. He was strapped to a table in the lab.

“It woke up sooner than expected.” Jack said. “Glad we got it strapped in in time.”

“No matter. Ghosts don’t feel pain.” Maddie responded. “Although frankly, Phantom, I wouldn’t care if you did. It’s the least you deserve.”

“Guys, I swear, it’s not what you think!” Danny said, starting to panic. “I am Danny! When I turned on the portal, I was inside! I-”

“Subject is behaving as expected.” Maddie said into a recorder. “It is doubling down on the lie in an attempt to manipulate us into freeing it.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Danny begged. “I’m still Danny! I’m still your son! Mom, Dad please-”

“SHUT UP!” Jack roared. “Don’t you DARE call us that ghost! You are not our son! You’re a heartless monster who killed him and took his place. Maddie, begin incision.”

“No, please don’t! Please, Mom! I- Ahh!” Danny screamed as the scalpel sunk into his flesh. He could feel it glide down, tearing his flesh cleanly. “Please, please stop, mom it hurts, please mom stop please mom!”

“Subject is continuing to maintain the illusion.” Maddie spoke. “It is possible the subject has deluded itself into thinking that it and its victim are one and the same.”

“Mom, please I swear it's me!” Danny screamed, thrashing around. “Please! Dad stop her! Please, it hurts! Someone help me please!”

“No one’s coming to help you ghost scum.” Jack said, hatred lacing his voice.

“Fascinating…” Maddie said, staring at the ghost boy on the table. She hadn’t yet finished her cut, leaving it as a V, instead of a Y. “Jack, come look at this.”

“Please, sto- op… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Danny cried as Jack walked over to see what his wife was talking about. The ghost was no longer moving, other than the shudders of its sobs. “I’m sorry! I never wanted to come back… I know I should’ve died. Please…”

“That looks like…” Jack said quietly.

“Blood.” Maddie replied, excitement in her voice. “There’s blood in its ectoplasm. It really is a type of ghost we’ve never seen before.”

“I wonder what else we’ll learn.” Jack said. “Continue the incision.”

“No, please!” Danny started struggling again. “Please! Sam! Tucker! Jazz! Please someone help! Please!”

Maddie’s scalpel cut through ectoplasmic flesh like butter. She finished the third cut, and was finally able to open up the ghost. She adjusted the camera, making sure she was getting a proper view of the insides. Then, at last she pulled back the skin.

“Jack, are you seeing this?” Maddie asked.

“A ghost with organs and bones…” Jack said. “Incredible…”

“Please…” Danny groaned weakly. “Please… stop…”

“There’s still so much we can learn.” Maddie said.

“Please… Mom. Dad.” Danny begged, barely still conscious. “Please… just kill me… Please…”

“Oh no.” Maddie said. “We still have so much left to do…”

For the past week, the Justice League had been laser focused on their new objective. Overall, they’d found great success. The Anti-Ecto Acts were on their way out, just waiting for official approval. The GIW was no longer sponsored by the government, and the Justice League had raided most of their bases. The group would likely stick around, but they had been absolutely crippled and were now considered a terrorist group.

There was only one major GIW base left. The one in Amity Park. They knew this one would have the greatest defenses, and likely had ghosts being kept prisoner, so they had taken extra precautions. However, it proved mostly unnecessary as the GIW didn’t seem to have any weaponry that was effective on beings other than ghosts. After taking out the base, they decided to pay a visit to Phantom. However, they were unprepared for the reaction they got when the citizens saw them.

“Get out of Amity!”

“We don’t want you here!”

“We have our own hero!”

“What if they’re with the Guys In White?”

“Stay away from Phantom!”

“Jeez, I’ve had more pleasant interactions with villains.” Flash said. “Seriously, why do they hate us so much?”

“Apparently, they’ve been dealing with ghost attacks for the last two years.” Batman answered. “Their calls to us were blocked, so as far as they know, we abandoned them.”

“So what do we do?” Flash asked.

“I’ve spoken with their mayor, Vlad Masters.” Batman said. “We’re going to hold a press conference and apologize, explain what happened, and promise to do better.”

“Well, that and we’ve got our surprise.” Superman smiled

“We have some time before our conference. We’ll split into two teams.” Batman said. “One will stay in costume, the other will change into their civilian clothes. We’ll both try to get a feel for the town.”

“I call dibs on Hal and Vic!” Barry said quickly. “We’ll go in our civvies! See ya bats!”

And with that, the three of them walked out. Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman watched as they left.

“So, Batman. What places did you want to check out?” Superman asked.

“On a later trip, I want to check out Nasty Burger.” Batman said. “There’s some suspicious activity with their money. Before the conference, I think we should visit the Mansons and the Fentons.”

“Any particular reason?” Wonder Woman asked.

“The Mansons are billionaires, however they seem to mostly care for the social aspect. They appear at galas nearly every week. Despite this, they seem to have no particular care for politics.” Batman said. Then, with a smile, added; “Well, the parents don’t. Their daughter, Samantha, is extremely active in many activist circles. I want to make sure they’re just a vain couple with too much money, and that it isn’t a cover for anything more sinister.”

“And the Fentons?” Superman asked.

“Ghost hunters. They seem to have been the ones who patented most modern ghost hunting technology, and had a contract with the GIW.”

“Understood.” Wonder Woman said. “Where do you want to stop first?’

“Mansons are closer. We’ll go there first.” Batman said. “Let-”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey! Justice League!” A young voice called from outside the door. “Open up! I know you’re in there!”

The three Leaguers walked over to the door. They opened it and saw two teenagers. One was a goth girl, and the other was a boy in a red beret.

“Finally.” She said, seeming impatient. “Danny needs your help.”

With those words, there was an instant tension.

“What happened?” Batman asked.

“We don’t know.” Sam admitted.

“He’s been missing for almost five days now.” Tucker told them. “He’s never been gone this long. Definitely not without saying anything.”

“You two seem awfully calm considering the circumstances.” Batman said, his tone unintentionally accusatory.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re the one helping with someone’s superheroing.” Sam said, stepping into Batman’s face. She looked up at him, glaring from mere inches away. “And if you ever accuse us of doing something again, I’ll make Poison Ivy look like a child playing with potted plants.”

“Sam, come on.” Tucker said. “Sorry about her, I promise she’s not evil. Just protective.”

“No need to apologize. Batman here has a tone issue.” Superman said. “He wasn’t accusing you. That was actually his impressed tone.”

“Hn.” Batman huffed. Superman sighed.

“You really aren’t helping.” Superman said. Then, he turned his attention back to the kids. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“We’re thinking FentonWorks.” Tucker said.

“They haven’t left their house in five days. The timelines match up.” Sam explained.

“And they’ve always had a specific grudge against Phantom.” Tucker added.

“We were planning on investigating the Fentons anyways.” Batman said. “You two wait here, we’ll-”

“Fuck no!” Sam interrupted. “There’s no way in hell you’re leaving us behind.”

“We can’t bring civili-” Superman started.

“Yeah, no offense, but if we’re civilians so is Oracle. And Martian Manhunter.” Tucker said. “Just because we aren’t generally front line fighters, doesn’t mean we aren’t part of this. Plus, we can absolutely hold our own.”

“You-” Wonder Woman tried once more, only to be interrupted as well.

“There’s no convincing them.” Batman sighed. “It’s like trying to convince Robin to stay home. It’s not going to work. Just stay close.”

“Will do B-Man!” Tucker said. And the group left towards FentonWorks.

“Their security is… unnerving.” Wonder Woman said as they neared FentonWorks.

“They’ve actually toned it down…” Sam murmured anxiously. “Tucker, open it up.”

“Got it.” Tucker said, pulling his PDA out.

“I’m sure Batman is more than capable of this.” Superman said.

“I’m sure he is. But I’m faster.” Tucker said. “I know this system inside and out.”

“Hrn.” Batman grunted.

“You don’t need any more kids.” Wonder Woman said. “Besides, he has parents.”

“What?” Sam asked, concerned.

“Batman has a tendency to take in strays.” Superman explained. “Kids, animals, reformed criminals, whoever.”

Sam and Tucker snorted. After another minute, the door clicked and the guns all retracted.

“Boo yah!” Tucker said. “Now, let’s go save Danny.”

The group walked through the house slowly and carefully. Superman used his X-ray vision to see into the basement.

“They’re in the lab.” Superman said. “It looks like Danny is lying down, and the Drs. Fenton are… on the floor? They-”

Before he could finish, Sam and Tucker ran off. The heroes ran after them, but the two teens were shockingly fast and clearly knew the house better than them. When the heroes got to the basement, the sight of it was… horrifying. Danny’s hair was black, and his skin was a pale green. But the heroes barely noticed that. No, what really got their attention was everything else. Jack Fenton was on his knees, facing a wall. He almost looked as though he was expected to be executed. They could see dents and cracks in the wall, where he had obviously punched it. Maddie, on the other hand, was sitting on the ground. She held her knees and was sobbing hysterically. Both were covered in blood and some green substance. Maddie turned to them, although the heroes knew she wasn’t really seeing much of anything. Her eyes were glassy and blank. If he didn’t have super hearing, Clark would have missed what she was mumbling to herself.

“They lied to us. It was him… Our baby boy… what did we do to you…”

Now that they were fully in the lab, they had a better view of the table, but Sam and Tucker we still blocking most of their view.

“Danny, it’s gonna be okay now. Hang in there.” Sam reassured, crying.

“The Justice League is here. They’ll help you.” Tucker said.

As the heroes approached, they got queasy. They saw a boy, still conscious, opened like a corpse. They recognized the Y cut. The ribs were cut. The could see his organs pulsating, working overtime to keep him alive. Nestled next to his heart was a glowing, light blue sphere. It was about 3 or 4 inches in diameter. As the three heroes got near the table, Sam walked away. Batman sprung into action, working to do what he could to help for the time being.

“Superman, I need your help.” He barked at his teammates. Then, much more gently, he spoke to Danny. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up and bring you to the Watchtower. You’re gonna be okay chum.”

The two worked in tandem to get the boy ready for transport.

“You bastards! What did you do to him! He’s your son!” Sam’s screams sounded through the lab. Diana turned to see what was happening and saw Sam over Maddie. She held her by the fabric of her jumpsuit and was laying punch after punch. Maddie was catatonic, and hardly reacted. However, Sam was sobbing. She screamed and sobbed and she hit the older woman. Her knuckles bloodying on the woman’s face. Diana pulled the girl back after a moment. Sam’s knuckles were twisted, cracked, bruised, and bloodied. But that was tame compared to Mrs. Fenton’s face. He nose was clearly broken. Her entire face was puffy and red. She clearly had a concussion, and you could hardly see her face through the thick curtain of blood. “Fuck you! What’s wrong with you!?”

Sam kept sobbing as Diana pulled her back. Diana held the girl, one hand on her back, the other on her head. She held the girl close to her as she cried.

“I hate them… How could they do that to him…” She mumbled as she kept sobbing.

“I know. I know sweetie. He’s gonna be okay. We’ll get him the best care there is.” Diana said quiet reassurances to the girl.

“It’s my fault… I killed him… I… Something’s wrong with me…” Sam’s crying slowed, but didn’t stop. “It’s all my fault…”

I Don't Want to be Great, I Wanna be Me.

So we all know the classic ‘JL meets Phantom through summoning’ prompt, and we usually get Danny “High King, Savior of Worlds, Eldritch, Cryptid, Ancient, No Shits Given, Chaos Gremlin” Fenton making an appearance, cool and confident, running circles around the JL. But what if, this High King they summoned, just… wasn’t.

The Justice League was prepared for anything, with the latest BBG threatening the world they had to take drastic measures. The JL Dark managed to scrounge up the summoning spell they… “liberated” from a cult group a couple months back. At first the JL was against the thought of summoning another highly powerful unknown, but with extensive research, Constantine and various others vouching for this so-called “King Phantom'' , and no option left, well, their hands were tied. Said to be the vanquisher of the previous Tyrant of the throne, Savior of the Infinite Realms, thousands of years old, infinitely powerful, infinitely old, and some smaller rumors claimed, infinitely kind. Phantom is said to be extremely protective of humans (something they were banking on),  loyal to its subjects, and said to rarely get angry (yeah right). A terrifying creature, tall and confident in its destructive power.

So yes, the League was prepared. They gathered as many members as they could spare for this meeting, everyone ready for a fight, but praying for none. The Big Three stepped forward while the rest hung back. Constantine and the Dark members start chanting, beginning the ritual.

The chanting ends. The silence hangs. Bodies still. 

Then, a flash from the hieroglyphs on the ground and an explosion of wind with no origin, a blinding light originating from the summoning circle grows in strength, letting out a vibrating hum that causes Superman to cover his ears and wince. The hum starts shaking the ground and the light condenses into itself, revealing the silhouette of an object. 

The wind stops. The light is gone, the vibration a memory. Everything is as it is before, with one exception.

Wonder Woman, wasting no time, straightens, “High King Phantom, Ruler of the infinite Realms, We are the Justice league, We ask your help in vanquishing The BBG, it threatens the lives of all those who live…” Her eyes widened as what stood before her.

This… this didn’t look like a High King, Vanquisher of Pariah Dark. This little thing did not give any indication of confidence, power, or age… it looked… young. The only thing terrifying about this creature is the size of bags under his eyes. Drowning in soft clothes, hunched over, looking utterly defeated, Nothing like they expected. Diana would almost mistake it if for a human child if not for the glowing eyes, fangs, and slight aura it gave off. But this, this was no King… Is- are those tears in its eyes?!

____________

Danny has not been having a good day. Or week. Or month, or- anything really. It seems like dying was only the beginning of his problems. No, scratch that, this all started with his parents’ damn obsession with ghosts. Danny swore they were part ghost too with their utter infatuation with all things Ecto. If only they hadn’t tried to access the ghost zone, if only Vlad hadn’t been involved to become Danny’s biggest nightmare, if only his parents gave up their research once they had kids, if only he didn’t walk in that stupid portal to impress his friends. 

If only he had stayed dead.

If only he didn’t gain powers, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess. 

Danny scowled to himself and let himself flop onto his bed. He’s been spending the last couple weeks cycling through this whole rogue gallery, TWICE! Plus fighting a handful of random ghosts who thought they could take on the ‘Ghost King’ (Pariah’s evil reign and thousand year slumber didn’t help either with all the paperwork that’s left for Danny.) Running from the GIW, his parents, and Val as usual, (Ghost Scum, 

Dealing with ‘Mayor’ Vlad’s Evil Plan of the Week -Danny’s powers were still on the fritz after that encounter, painful, was a word for it- Not to mention school, between Dash being Dash, forgetting his science homework, missing a test because of Skulker, Lancer and his threats of, “Black Beauty Fenton! If your grades keep dropping you’ll spend the rest of the year in detention! With ME!” and now his teachers (and Jazz) are talking to him about college? He’s still a sophomore, give him a break! It isn’t Danny’s fault the whole universe is apparently out to get him.

The real cherry on top of this whole thing was the recent ‘summonings’. No thanks to the Fruit Loop and his meddling, with Jack Fenton unknowingly helping him, again. A nice little instruction booklet called, “How to Summon the Ghost King, Made Easy!” got out onto the internet and the world, free for any psycho to speed dial Danny away from his life. At various points in the last month Danny has been forcibly -and if he was honest, painfully- ripped from anything he’s been doing and dumped smack dab into the center of various cults’ plans, usually they wanted power, money, or world domination. His saving grace was the process of summoning forced him to transform or no identity reveals, thank The Ancients. 

Sam and Tucker have been a godsend in getting the Booklet wiped from the internet, Danny would be lost without them. He would’ve fallen apart the first week into his powers if not for them. Who knew watching your friend half dying created lasting relationships? They really kept him going and he trusts them with his life, really he does.

But Danny would never tell them about some of the things he’s seen getting summoned, he couldn’t do that to them. The various groups of psychos seemed to think Danny was more likely to listen to them if they offered sacrifices.. human sacrifices. Some nights he couldn’t stop smelling blood and incense, couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He hated himself for keeping track, and hated himself for not wanting to. 15. 15 people, so far just because some handful of lunatics wanted some money or something equally stupid like that. Danny was 15, that’s one whole human being, for every year he was alive, one of them was even younger th- she was just- Danny couldn’t- she was- so small…

Pulling his blankets over his head, Danny took measured breaths against the tightness in his throat. It’s Not fair. It’s not. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be King of the undead, he’s just a kid himself isn’t he? It was just an accident turning on the portal. He didn’t mean to. Why is he stuck fixing everything? Can't he just be a normal kid? Go to school, get good grades, become an astronaut? He’s so completely out of his depth, who is he kidding, it’s just a matter of time before he screws up again and someone gets hurt, or worse. He's trying, though, he is. He tries so hard to be good, to do good. To not turn into Dan.

‘Stop it, Danny. Now’s not the time for bad thoughts.’ This is the first time Danny’s had a chance to sleep in two days, his parents are out and left the home defenses are down, Jazz is studying at the library, Sam and Tucker are playing Doom while keeping an eye on ecto readings around town. He has maybe 4 blissful hours to spend in dream land. He sighed and sunk into his pillow trying to blank out his thoughts before he could spiral again.

A tightening in the chest, and eyes snap open, ‘NO! NO! Please not now!’ is all Danny manages to think before the unfortunately familiar sensation of space displacement takes hold. His transformation is forced on him as he feels himself fall apart and get put back together simultaneously.

‘Just a couple hours rest, is tHAT SO MUCH TO ASK!!??’ The anger leaves before it can fully form due to the pure exhaustion that washed over his ectofied bones and straight to his core. It feels strained, like glass under pressure, not knowing if the slightest change will shatter him. He slowly gets his bearings and- oh, this almost seems worse than a regular cult summoning. At least there’s not a dead body. 

It’s the Justice League, and Wonder Woman is talking to him. And Danny, Danny can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know if they want to trap him, kill him, experiment… if the GIW got their claws into the JL… Danny can’t anymore, He can practically feel his core splintering into jagged gut- wrecking pieces. He just wants to rest, to feel safe, for just a little while. Why can’t he?

Throat burning and eyes watering, Danny realizes he can do something, just one thing. It’s the only thing left that he can do. Something he hasn’t done for a long time, ever since dying.

Danny starts crying.

[kitxvoss]

Kit, everything that’s good in me is because of you.

[alyswritings]

Compliments

Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could write a fic about Tom and sister!reader doing a live together and there are a lot of comments about how beautiful the reader is etc and Tom kinda goes into protective brother mode

Tom Holland x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N gets flattering comments while her and Tom are doing a live stream.

Warnings: sibling fluff

a/n: thank you for the request! not the longest but hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

"Hey, Y/N, wanna go live with me?" Tom asks, stepping into his sister's room as he opens the Instagram app on his phone.

"Sure." Y/N answers. Tom sits on her bed and Y/N grabs a few books so he can rest the phone against them if he gets tired of holding it.

"How do you do it?" Tom mutters to himself, his eyebrows pinched in confusion. Y/N laughs at his lack of technology skills before starting the live for him. "Thank you." Tom mumbles, watching as people start to flood in.

"I'll give it a few minutes for more people." Tom says, setting the phone up against the pile of books. Y/N sits next to him and watches as comments flood the bottom of the screen.

After a couple of minutes, Tom decides to start talking, figuring that enough people are in it.

"Okay, uh, hello everybody. I just... I wanted something to do and figured why not go live since I haven't done it in a little bit. And Y/N, my little sister for those who may not know, is also with me." He states and Y/N waves to the camera.

The siblings start talking about whatever they think of and also answer some of the questions that are sent in.

They're looking through the comments trying to find a question.

Y/N is a literal goddess!!

QUEEN!!!!

Y/N could slap me and I'd thank her

Y/N's definitely the prettiest Holland

Whoever gets to date and eventually marry Y/N is a lucky person

i would kill to be y/n. or with y/n

she is the most gorgeous person on this planet!!

Y/N was sculpted by God and he took his time with her

Y/N shyly giggles at all of the comments, her cheeks burning beet red. She ducks her head, attempting to hide her obvious blushing. Tom's eyes lightly roll almost as a reflex.

Y/N, can I get your number?

"Okay, watch it. She doesn't want anybody's number." Tom states after seeing that comment.

"Tom." Y/N lightly punches his arm.

"What? You're not giving out your number to anybody. You're not allowed to date." Tom states.

"I'm 18." Y/N retorts.

"Yeah, that's too young." Tom says making her roll her eyes. "And she isn't that amazing."

"Thomas!" Y/N shoves him.

"I love you, but I'm making sure you don't get a boyfriend or anything, Y/N." Tom says. "Too young."

"You were dating at my age." Y/N reminds.

"yeah, but I had no older siblings to stop me. You have three." Tom grins at her. She shoves him again making him laugh. Tom goes back to looking through comments, finding many more admiring Y/N's beauty.

"Okay, no, you need to leave. Everybody's obsessing over you." Tom says, putting his hand over Y/N's face and gently pushing her away.

"I'm not going anywhere. You asked me to be here." Y/N says, smacking his hand away from her face. "And as they should. I'm the best looking sibling."

"Wha-- you are not!" Tom argues.

"Did you just call me ugly?" Y/N asks.

"I didn't and you know it. You're just not the best looking. I am." Tom says.

"You are not!" Y/N objects.

"Yes, I am!"

The two siblings continue to bicker about who looks better, the fans enjoying the content of the oldest and youngest Holland siblings.

"Okay, Y/N is very beautiful, inside and out, but nobody is allowed to date her. You'd have to get through me, Sam, and Harry which is not easy. We'll sic both Paddy and Tessa on you." Tom stated before he ended the live.

Taglist:

@glxwingrxse @peyton-14

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[msmarvelwrites]

For Old Times' Sake

Summary: “Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue,”

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Explicit sexual content, Vaginal penetration, fingering, Choking, Bucky with the filthy words, mutual pining.

Word Count: 2.8K

Authors Note: WOW! It has literally been a hot minute hasn't it? I cant say that I’m not a little excited about this 3rd lock-down in Ontario because it means I can actually find time to write. I’m sorry it’s been so long, babes. Anyways, enjoy! (I’m actually the worst and it’s been so long since I’ve done this!) The Biggest Thank You to @sweeterthanthis for literally cheering me on the entire time. This was such garbage before you came along 😂 I had so much fun with this one babe 💕 thank you for all you do ✨

The wind whipped against your face, bruising your skin with it’s callousness. Though the unwelcomed lash was nothing compared to what was to come. Or who, for that matter. 

It had been longer than you cared to admit. The dodged calls hanging at the bottom of the icon on your phone serving as a cruel reminder of how cold you had been. Of course, it was never in your job description to take care of Bucky after Steve left— but there was an implication that made you run for the hills. 

You couldn't do anything for him - give him anything. The last five years had consisted of running and trying to start over. 

Besides, after the Accords, in the government's eyes you were just as fucked as Hydra. An ally turned fugitive the moment you’d chosen your side in that airport. You’d fight with yourself most nights that you decided with your head, but your first evening with a man who had bruised your lips with promises of what would come may have had more pull than anything else. 

The same man that had called you every week for the past six months… The same man you had spent countless nights with, years of your life you would never be able to scrub away, no matter how hard you tried. 

You had watched from afar as half of the world returned, their loved ones welcoming them home with teary eyes and broken hearts. You watched as he came home. His eyes, always scanning the crowds waiting for you. Waiting to see your face. 

It made all of this so, so much worse. This was definitely not the homecoming you could have hoped for. 

“We’re nearing the drop.” Your comm’s rang with a woman's voice who had helped smuggle you onto the craft. You weren’t exactly welcome in europe at the moment- or anywhere for that matter. The government did not take lightly to your’s and Sharon’s betrayal. You’d think that after everything the world had seen they would be a little more forgiving, but you couldn't exactly blame them for their trust issues either. 

You could, however, blame yourself. 

As soon as your feet hit the ground you were off. The distress call had come from Sam earlier that evening and now with the sun setting you could only hope you weren't too late. You tried to push the man who had haunted your thoughts for the past few years out of your head, desperate to focus on the task at hand. 

Bullets exploded through the air, a warning as you were approaching the large shipping container unit. Your comms went static as they began to connect with Sam’s, his voice ringing through your ears as—

“Sam, a little help here!” 

His voice stopped you dead in your tracks. 

“I’m on my way - called in some back up.” Sam grunted as the sound of strangled yelps echoed around you. 

“Back up? Who do we know that-” Bucky’s words were cut short as he let out a growl, the sound of his vibranium arm whirling in the background. 

You rushed in without a second thought, the sound of his pain too raw as it ripped through your chest. Before you could assess the danger, you charged forward, hurling yourself at a large man pointing his gun right at- 

With a loud thud, the man hit the ground. Your combat boot, heavy on his throat until he went still, and with it came silence. It was deafening despite the explosive gunfire around you. 

“Y/n?” 

Your name ripped through the air, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Back turned and body rigid, you were frozen in place. Years you had craved to hear your name spoken from his lips. Countless nights, forcing yourself to remember how it fell from his tongue, soft and get so personal. Like no one had spoken it before. 

“Y/n, what are you-”

Sam's voice cut the newly cropped brunettes words off,  “I got two coming in on your left, Buck. Oh- and welcome back, Y/L/N.” 

You smiled sheepishly at Bucky, pulling your gun from its holster and flicking the safety off as you closed your distance with him. Despite the aggravation apparent on his face, a broken smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“Here we go again, huh?”  You chimed, your eyes locking with his just as all hell broke loose. 

The trip back to Sam and Bucky’s base was one filled with uncomfortable silence, and a tension that had your blood running cold. 

Once the adrenaline of the fight had worn off and you were left face to face with Bucky Barnes, the guilt began to creep in. 

“So…” Sam started from the backseat of the beat-up truck, the suddenness of his words startling both you and Bucky for a moment. “Long time no see.” 

The scoff that left Bucky’s lips wasn't as subtle as you imagined he meant it to be. You tried not to let it bother you; in fact, you had prepared for this. How he might react when you finally returned home. What you weren't prepared for, however, was how indescribably gutted you would feel to watch him - eyes trained to the road ahead - as he gritted his teeth at your proximity. 

To say that yours and Bucky’s relationship before the snap was easy would be incredibly delusional. It was messy and at it’s best dysfunctional. But for whatever reason, the two of you looked beyond that. He saw through you like no one ever had and before you knew it, the two of you were glued at the hip. It didn't make sense, but no questions were ever asked. 

You just fit. 

And of course there was the sex. Good god, you could feel your thighs clenching at the thought. 

The way’s Bucky knew how to take you apart, with an accuracy that only he had. How he had your toes curling and body vibrating from the flick of his tongue. How he would have you screaming the most filthy things for him, all while begging to never ever—

“Y/n?” 

Sam’s voice was like an ice bath. Your name yanking you back into the present and the question at hand. What was the question again? You couldn't think straight. Not when Bucky was staring at you the way he was, one brow cocked and that same familiar smirk plastered on his lips. If you didn't know any better, you’d think he could read your thoughts. 

“Sorry- I… I was…” You couldn't seem to bring yourself back to this realm, too lost in the Super Soldier’s stormy eyes to remember what exactly you were trying to say. 

“He asked you where you’ve been, Y/n.” Bucky spoke your name like it was a curse, laced with razor sharp ache and pain. His eyes told a different story though. The way he looked at you; the same way he always did. 

With a warmth that only he had for you. It made you shiver. 

“Running, mostly.” You started, your body physically breaking your gaze with Bucky. It was too much, watching him glare down at you. And maybe you deserved it. 

“And you never thought to, I don't know, call me?” Bucky’s words were spiteful, oozing with a disdain that was beginning to wear down your patience. 

“It wasn't like that, Buck-”

“You can’t call me that anymore.” He snapped, his eyes trained on the road. Your gaze snapped to him, brow arched as you all but scoffed at him. 

“Oh, I can't?” You chuckled, but the sound came out flat. He had every right to ask you where you've been. Hell, get angry if he wanted. But the way his words seeped with disgust made your blood boil. 

“Okay, okay guys. Let’s all take a breath and just—”

“Shut up, Sam.” You both snarled, causing Sam to roll his eyes as Bucky pulled into a long winding driveway with a small log cabin sat at the end of it. You reached for your seatbelt until your door swung open. 

“You two figure your shit out. Whatever this is,” Sam motioned to the space between you two, “ isn’t leaving this car. I’ll be inside. Feel free to come in when y'all have killed and made up, okay?” With that, Sam slammed the door leaving Bucky and you alone in your static tension.

Bucky worried on his lip, his eyes trained to his lap. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words seemed caught in your throat. 

“You didn't even call…” 

It was so quiet, you almost didn't hear it. But you did… 

Voice small and so filled with ache; it kicked you in the stomach, the guilt washing away any anger you had felt. 

“Bucky… I- I couldn't.” You forced out, tentative as you met his gaze, stomach dropping as your eyes locked with his. 

“I thought I lost you. I thought - I mean, fuck - you were all I cared about.” He sighed, clearing his throat as if it would help ease his discomfort. “I looked for you, ya know?” He chuckled, but there was no warmth behind it. Just a brokenness that made you squirm. 

“It’s not your fault—”

“Oh, I know it’s not.” Bucky quipped, his eyes flicking away from yours and turning back to face the cabin. “It was your own selfish decision.” 

You scoffed, head snapping back to meet his glare. “Selfish? Bucky, I had no other choice. Not everyone can be pardoned for their crimes. It’s not like I had Steve Rogers advocating for my freedom!” 

Bucky only rolled his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight, you swore he might rip it clean off the car.  “Don’t bring him into this. You don't think that I would have done everything to get to you? To clear your name?”

You laughed bitterly, blinking away the tears that welled at the corners of your eyes. 

“You gotta at least give me more credit than that, Doll.” The pet name rolled off this tongue easily, washing over you, and making you freeze. 

“Please don’t call me that…” You faltered, wiping away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek. 

It seemed the tension dissipated in that moment, silence heavy between you both as Bucky reached out, his flesh fingers finding a tear and brushing it away. You tried to speak, but with everything that had been said, and all that would never be, you decided words just weren’t enough. 

You didn't have time to object before his lips were on yours, your body moving at its own accord as he pulled you onto his lap, your thighs either side of him as his tongue swept across your bottom lip. You tried to moan, but his mouth swallowed the sound. He rendered you breathless, his taste intoxicating as you melted into his embrace, grinding into him and shivering when a familiar growl slipped from his lips; vibrating against your mouth. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” You moaned out, clutching his jacket as you licked down his neck. His skin was burning against your lips, the rumble of his breath heavy against your ear as he let out a dark chuckle, urging you on. 

“Well, if you had just called me—” 

Before he could finish the sentence, you reached for the recliner, snapping it forward as you toppled forwards onto Bucky’s chest. His words fell back into his throat, hands automatically finding your hips to steady you while you fumbled with his belt. 

“Doll—” He tried to start, but you swallowed the name with your kiss, heated and rooted in a desperate need to feel him again. You ached for him in a way you’d never felt before. 

Maybe what you had was unfixable. Maybe it was beyond repair, but with the way he was kissing you and hiking down your pants, it didn't matter. You were drunk on him, and by the way he bucked his hips, so was he. 

You shivered as his vibranium fingers looped into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down over your legs as you both awkwardly tried to move in the cramped seat. You wanted to laugh, but as his cold thumb swiped through your slick folds, all you could do was whine. 

“So wet for me…” He hummed, teeth sinking into your throat as he pulled a whimper from your lips. 

You cursed, hands propping you up on either side of him as he dipped his index finger into you, the intrusion enough to have your back arching into him, desperate for more. 

But Bucky was a tease. And even now, after all of this time, it was the very thing that had your buckling above him. Pleading and begging for more.

“Look at you.” He started, his eyes dark as he pushed deeper inside, his finger curing into you as you gasped. 

“P-please, Buck.” You begged, grinding down onto his hand. To your dismay he only chuckled, watching intently as you came undone around him. 

“I told you,” He started, lifting you off of him and tossing you against the backseats, “Don’t call me that.” 

You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat as he awkwardly crawled towards you. But the look in his eyes had your stomach twisting into something that emulated fear. It was guttural as he pressed into you, the outline of his cock digging into your drenched folds.

You bit back a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as his cold fingers brushed against your core, pulling himself free from his boxers. 

“Do you still love me like you did?”  He spoke, and though the words were soft and filled with promises you had broken before, there was a darkness in his voice. 

“I never stopped.” You admitted. And it was true. But that didn't seem to be the answer he was looking for as he licked his bottom lip, eyes trained on your throat. 

“I’m afraid isn’t gonna’ feel much like love, doll.” He breathed out, lining himself up with your entrance. Before you could speak, he thrusted into you, knocking the air out of your chest as he bent you uncomfortably in half. You could only scream as he caged you in, forcing you down against the seats as he fucked into you. 

It’s not like you forgot how Bucky filled you, but his size was something you would never be able by to fully adjust to. Especially not now, when he was holding you steady, his hips snapping against you giving you no time to ease into the assault. And by the looks of the lopsided smirk plastered on his swollen lips, he knew exactly how shredded you felt. 

“Fuck, you take me so good, sweetheart.” The pet name doing nothing to quell the ache he sent ripping through your body as he sank deeper into you. You could only cry out, head smashing into the door as he kept up his brutal pace. 

“B-Bucky, please.” You weren't exactly sure what you were asking for, but at this rate you wouldn't last long, the familiar coil building in your abdomen as he nudged up against your cervix. 

“Slow down, baby.” You choked on a sob, eyes glassy as his vibranium fingers coiled around you thoat, pining you to the seats.  

“Did you miss this part, doll?” He whispered against your ear, a shiver ripping through your body and igniting a flame you had so desperately craved since the moment he vanished from your world. “Miss the way I ruin you, Hm? I can feel you, coming undone. You’re so close, aren’t you?” he teased, pressing his fingers deeper into your throat until you were coughing around the pressure. 

“All I need to do is-” His flesh thumb ran circles against your clit, your eyes rolling back into your skull as you croaked out his name, begging him to ease up. “There it is.” He chuckled, quickening his pace until you were a shivering mess beneath him. 

“Bucky, I-” 

“I’m going to ruin this cunt, sweetheart. Stay still, and let go for me” His voice was like gravel, only letting you breathe once you nodded your head in complicity, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth as the orgasm wrapped itself around your core. 

“Fuck.” You managed to scream, your head lulling back as a title-wave of ecstasy crashed over you, pulling you under.

“That’s my girl.” His words tipped you over the edge, his name on your lips like a prayer as you quivered, your body violently shaking. “God you're so tight when you- Shit!” 

With a few sloppy thrusts, Bucky came undone. His hot spend coating your pulsing walls as he gasped. Your bodies a tangled mess as he puffed out a breath against your neck. 

You both just stayed frozen, too afraid that the moment you pulled away, reality would sink in. And the truth was, you weren't exactly sure what that meant. 

Bucky slowly eased himself out of you, gasping a little as you spilled out onto, what you only hoped, would be easy to clean seats.

 “Doll, that was-” 

“Hey,” Sam knocked hard against the now foggy glass, “You two hungry, or what?” 

[lovelybarnes]

restless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, mentions of natasha romanoff, sam wilson, and steve rogers warnings: mentions of nightmares and clingy bucky but it’s mostly fluff about: bucky can’t sleep without y/n a/n: i was going to post this yesterday but i fell asleep :| my computer was literally open and nearly dead when i woke up lmao

today marks one week that you’ve been gone, and with it, the official shortest amount of sleep that bucky has gotten in a week. he supposes it’s sightly pathetic that he can’t sleep well- or, really, at all- without you, but you continuously tell him you chase his nightmares away for him, and without you there to make them disappear, where else will they go but deep into the crevices of his mind, where they’ll hide long enough for him to let his guard down and lull himself to sleep, only to wake up with the ugly memories of things he hoped he’d forgotten. he’s constantly told that his attachment to you is overbearing- not by you, though. never by you- because it must be, with how much he clings to your side, always touching some part of you so that he’s sure that, yes, you’re there. not a dream or an illusion, although you’re good enough to be one.

he misses every part of you; your fingers and the way they run through his hair, trace his features with such tenderness he nearly believes he is what you see, your voice and its ability to transform the most mundane words into the greatest poetry, sing soft songs into his skin until he’s fallen asleep, your eyes and how they examine him in the best way possible, glowing when they meet his.

he longs for you, but he can only imagine your smile, the bitter reminder that you’re probably showing it to some psychopath for the mission you’re on. he hates steve every time the memory is evoked, the panic that comes with your being used as bait for some of the most screwed up villains in the world only returning stronger. he’s tempted to go get you himself, uncaring if he screws up the mission because at least he’ll have you.

stark will call him pathetic, then go to bed with the love of his life, so bucky prefers keeping his thoughts about you to himself, much like he’d like to keep you. you’ve told him you can handle yourself, and bucky never doubts it, having been victim to the using of your skills when he first encountered you as the winter soldier. you kicked his ass then, and you kick any and all ass now.

it doesn’t help his sleeping schedule, though your calls do. he swears you’re an angel because there’s no way a normal human could glow like that through a screen, but you always laugh off his words and simply tell him to turn his brightness down. however, you haven’t taught him that yet, so he greets you with the same sentence every time. his smile is always brighter after your calls, the dark bruises under his eyes reduced as if he got a full night’s rest. it’s your effect on him, and as much as everyone teases you both for it, they appreciate it.

you’re due to come back in a week or two, but bucky is unsure he can wait that long, and judging from your chirpier-than-usual voice in your latest interaction, you’ve finished early, like you always do. he likes to imagine it’s because of him, behind the deprecating voice that screams at him why would it be? (the answer is that you love him and hate every second you’re away from him)

sam scoffs when he overhears him telling that to steve, sitting down next to bucky, “man, there is no way you can tell that from a phone call. even if you could, i know she’s good, but to shave two weeks off mission time? natasha hasn’t even been able to do that.” a proud smile grows on bucky’s face without his permission as he shrugs, “she’s that good,” he brags, choosing to ignore the fake gag sam sends his way.

you frown when he tells you what he thinks on your call a few hours later, lips puckering into a small pout, “how did you know? i wanted it to be a surprise!” you ask through a crackled voice. so much for state of the art technology, bucky thinks, but is glad nonetheless to hear your voice. “i know you too well, doll. you’re really coming back today?”

you nod excitedly, biting your bottom lip. “mhm! i missed you and my bed too much to stay here a moment longer. villains are such pervs,” you complain, nose scrunching. bucky’s jaw sets when he hears your words, immediately thinking the worst. “but, i’m coming back today, so it’s fine. what do you want to do when i get back?”

bucky shrugs, “be with you,” he answers simply, making you laugh. “other than that, dummy. we could watch a movie, have a little date night to make up for the one i missed while i was gone.” bucky grins at this, remembering his plans for that night. “okay,” he agrees, “we’ll watch one of those movies on my list. although sam put some weird ones.”

you concur through chuckles that pass through the phone, reminding him how much you love him. he swears an oath to never let you go again and bites back a yawn that you see right through. “you’re sleeping the moment i get back,” you instruct, and bucky nods with your words, even when the sole idea of your being within arm’s reach is obviously too enticing to pass up for sleep. “whatever you want, doll. as long as you’re here.” he replies, thinking about spending the night pressing kisses to your hair and checking for any injuries you may have withheld from him.

the sentence is dishonest and you both know it, but you leave it at that, missing him too much and sure he’ll rest with how exhausted he must be. you say goodbye without the actual words, only giving a blown kiss and a “see you later.”

bucky spends the rest of the hours without you thinking of you, skimming through the words written in the little blue notebook you got him to replace his old one. that one sits on his dresser, the disuse proven by the layer of dust that covers it. the names he spent hours agonizing over, tracing his fingers over the indents made by the pen, are hidden by its cover. they never fade from his mind, though. only half of the pages of the one you gave him are blank now, and the ones that aren’t are bright and white, inviting him to drop his pen on the lines and jot whatever reference he didn’t understand but wants to. he eyes the names of the movies and shows, some accompanied by quotes that refer to them. “new girl: nick miller,” he reads, remembering how one of your friends said he was the avenger version of the character. “friends: ‘joey doesn’t share food,” sam told him that one when he didn’t let him have any of his chips. he looks at clueless, recalling the way all of his teammates stare at scott whenever the movie comes up. there are a couple pages like this, some of them recommendations and others titles he kept hearing. tonight, he decides on starting a new show, but he leaves the actual show up to you to decide.

you arrive a couple hours later, when stars have littered the darkness that bled through the sky. it’s all very rom-com-filmesque, the way you light up when you see his face- even through how tired you clearly are- and how you jump into his arms, ignoring the ache in your muscles because the way his arms wrap around you seems to make it disappear. he gathers you in his arms and kisses everywhere on your face, treasuring your laugh and the feeling of your lips pressing to his shoulder when you hug him again.

even when you pull away, he doesn’t let go of your hand, flesh fingers tracing small circles into your skin. you don’t complain, even when steve shoves papers in front of you and asks you to sign them with a sheepish look. sam comes by and teases bucky lightheartedly, hounding bucky to let you have both your hands. you chuckle at his request and squeeze bucky’s fingers, kissing the back of his hand, “oh, no, he better not,” you half-joke. he smiles, red tinting his cheeks as he gently draws you closer.

you don’t feel like driving at the moment, and you need to water your plants, completely sure that wanda forgot to do it, so you end up going to your room, even though you spend most of your time at his own room or your apartment outside the compound. you can tell how little the room has been used by the spotless counters and floors, furniture clean of any of the knickknacks you usually leave. you only sleep here when bucky leaves for long missions, his absence is overly blatant when he’s gone, and your plants keep you from feeling too alone.

you usher bucky inside, tugging open your drawers to search for something for him to wear. you grin at the soft fabric under the pads of your fingertips, recalling the memory of stealing them from bucky’s closet to soak in his scent when you couldn’t have the real thing. the considerable use has washed away all traces of him, and you decide that needs to be fixed, picking out clothing for him.

you change into one of his old shirts and make tea while he changes, smiling when you feel his arms wrapping around your waist and kissing your jaw. “what do you want to watch tonight?” he asks, and you contemplate it while you pour your drinks, shoveling spoons of sugar into each one to make it as sweet as possible- his favorite. “new girl, i think you’ll like it,” you reply after a moment.

he unravels his arms from around you, taking the mugs from the counter and following you to your room after you peck his cheek in thanks. “okay, i want to see what this nick miller is all about,” bucky says, making you laugh softly. “c’mon,” he urges, opening his arms for you after setting the cups down. you cuddle up to his side after you grab your computer, setting up netflix and choosing the show.

halfway through the first episode, bucky feels the fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks, hours of missed sleep catching up to him now that he’s finally relaxed and comfortable. keeping his eyes open is a job all on its own, and the sweet smell of your hair combined with the way your fingers move on his chest, softly writing letters and drawing shapes, is too much to resist.

you barely notice when he shuts his eyes, the evening of his breathing alerting you he’s succumbed to his tiredness. you stop the video and quietly shut your laptop, placing it on the bedside table while moving as little as possible. he feels you shift through your efforts, pulling you closer in his sleep. you chase away his nightmares like you always do, letting him sleep his first full night since you left.

he wakes up rejuvenated and embarrassed, sputtering out embarrassed apologies that you shush with kind reassurances and tender kisses. he’s reminded of how wonderful you are when you turn, arms extending to reach into your bag and carrying out a small stuffed animal that you say reminded you of him.

[puppypeter]

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

OR

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Sleep talk

Harry Holland 

A/N- i literally have no patience so i’m giving you all this way earlier than i anticipated. OOps 🤭❤️

Summary- a bad habit of talking in your sleep gets you into a predicament you would have never expected

Word count- 4k

Warnings- sleep talking. Smut. So much smut. additional warnings under the cut.

🌸🌼 Masterlist 🌼🌸

Warnings: Wet dreams. oral (F receiving) unprotected sex, (Please wrap it up!)

You wondered if anyone else felt that the car was stuffy. Sandwiched between Sam and Harry with Tom and Harrison in the front, there was little to no room. This was day three of the ten day road trip, and you were officially tired of sitting in the car. Sam was respectful, trying to give you as much space as he could with you being in the middle seat, Harry on the other hand was pushed up into you with his hand resting on your leg for the umpteenth time. Not that you particularly minded, but you weren't sure why he was being so touchy with you. Your mind kept wandering every time his fingers brushed across your thigh, and as much as you tried to not think the things you were about him, you couldn't help it.

You had finally given up, and closed your eyes, hoping the ache that was in your core would dissipate. There was quite literally nothing you could do about it yourself, at least in the moment. So with your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown up on the headrest you tried desperately to get the dirty thoughts about your close friend Harry Holland out of your head.

It probably would have worked too, until you felt his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His warm breath ghosting the skin of your neck, spreading goosebumps all through your skin and making that desperate ache grow ten times. You couldn't take it anymore. With your thighs squeezed together, in hopes of any relief you let out a loud sigh. “Harrison, can we please stop at the next place with a restroom?” You asked, hoping that no one noticed the desperation in your tone. Harrison obliged, pulling into a nearly empty rest stop only a few miles further down.

As soon as Sam was out of your way you bee lined it towards the building, rushing to the bathroom like your life depended on it. You stood in the tidy restroom, with mirrors that barely offered a reflection. You splashed cold water on your face hoping the ache would disappear now that you weren't stuck to Harry.

Years upon years of knowing the Hollands, and since day one Harry had always tickled your fancy. The curly red hair, the humor the boy quite simply radiated, the warm kind eyes, and his smile. Oh his smile. This road trip was supposed to be a fun experience, a vacation of sorts, but it just seemed to be a constant torture for you. The other boys sticking you with Harry every chance they got. You were sure it was merely a coincidence, there was absolutely no way they knew about your crush. Right?

Last night though, had taken the cake. The hotel had only one room left and they had stuck you and Harry in one bed. You claimed it was no big deal, but in the middle of the night when he had unconsciously thrown his arm around your waist and pulled you into him, you were sure you were going to explode then and there. And the ache just seemed to keep growing.

The door opened causing you to jump. You looked over to see Harry walking in, weary of the fact that he was in the ladies room.

“What are you doing?” You asked him. The smirk that creeped up his lips let you know, he knew. He had to know. Why else would he follow you into a rest stop restroom?

“I was just worried about you, love,” his voice was low, deeper than usual, and you could feel your pussy clench at the sound of his voice.

“I'm alright,” You whispered. His eyebrows raised as he took another step towards you. You shivered as a million ways he could simply take you right now flashed through your mind.

“I've noticed the things you have been doing you know,” he smirked. Your eyes grew wide, not sure exactly what he meant. You have been doing an awful lot lately. “Every time i touch you, your thighs clench together, probably in hopes to relieve some of the pressure that has surely built up over the last few days,” the truth behind the things he said had your mouth hanging open, unaware of what to say to him. He closed the distance between the two of you arms boxing you in as you leaned against the wall in absolute complete shock.

“I-” You began to try and say anything but his finger pressed against your lips. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked over you, a fire in his eyes you had never seen before.

“Am I wrong?” He whispered as he brought his lips to your neck, leaving the softest kisses down from behind your ear to your shoulder. You let out a moan, as you felt yourself grow wetter. “Didn't think so,” Harry mumbled before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss started slowly, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Moving gently over yours, but soon it became deep and with intent, you could feel his hand traveling down your body stopping right before the pool that had accumulated in your underwear. This was it.

The car screeched to a halt and you could hear Tom cursing at the driver in front of you, you looked around shocked that you had fallen asleep. When did Tom and Harrison swap seats? More importantly, how long had you been asleep and how much of your dream had slipped from your unconscious lips. You were a sleep talker, like majorly, so the panic set in instantly, having just had a wet dream about the boy to your right.

Harrison noticed you had woken up first, turning around in his seat as much as he could to look at you. “Morning y/n, have a good sleep?” it didn't seem as there was any teasing behind his question so you were hopeful.

“S’allright. How long was i out?” you felt Harry's body move as if he was chuckling you turned to see a giant shit eating grin spread across his face. You felt your stomach twist. “What did I say?” you asked burying your face in your hands, you knew this could be bad.

“It's okay love, think only I heard,” Harry whispered.

“I heard,” Sam piped in.

“So did we,” Tom announced from the driver's seat. You groaned in embarrassment, why did you have to have a wet dream in a car with your closest friends.

“Was it bad?” you finally asked, peering through your fingers to see Harry's face. You could clearly tell he was holding back something.

“Oh Harry,” Tom mimicked your voice.

“Better than my dreams,” Harrison added.

“Soo soo good,” Sam chuckled.

This was it, the end of your life, this was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened.

“Please don't stop Harry,” Harry whispered in your ear, eyebrows raised, obviously enjoying this. You were sure you were as red as a tomato at this point, your worst fears coming to life.

“Oh my god, you could have woken me up!” You shrieked, burying your face deeper into your hands.

“It seemed like a very good dream, didn't want to interrupt,” Harrison chuckled from in front of you.

You decided to keep your eyes closed for the next few hours, being sure not to fall asleep. When you finally arrived at the small cabin that had been rented for the night, prior to the trip you were relieved to be able to breath and stretch. You had stayed relatively quiet, you were absolutely mortified and you didn't want to become more embarrassed by anything you could say or do at this point.

“Y/N” Tom called. You turned your attention to him, not having heard what he had just said. “Only two rooms, so I'm going to have you bunk with Harry again. You don’t mind right?” He said the last part with a smirk and you knew instantly you would never live this down.

“Course she doesn't,” Harry chimed in, throwing his arm around your shoulder. saving you from having to respond in any way. You smiled up to him through your lashes, silently thanking him. He nodded at you and winked.

Your heart skipped a beat.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Sam whipped up a quick but delicious dinner before the five of you went to your sleeping areas. Tom and Harrison took the bunk room, Sam settled with the pullout bed, leaving you and Harry to share a full sized bed. It would be a snug night.

“You okay darling?” Harry asked as he settled into the bed next to you, you were trying to not let your mind wander. Sleep, you were going to just sleep tonight.

“Other than being mortified, I'm alright,” You mumbled as you rolled onto your side facing away from Harry.

“Because of your dream?” you felt him shuffling on the bed before his hand reached out gently resting on your hip. “You can't control the things your subconscious comes up with. Honestly it was flattering,”

“Seriously?” you asked, face deadpan. As you turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows at you. “It wasn't my subconscious Harry, yes i happened to be asleep, but i have been having these thoughts for weeks. Imagining you stripping me naked and having your way with me. Every time you touch my leg, I hope your hand will travel between my thighs. I'm longing for you to scratch an itch I wasn't even aware I had,” you took a deep breath and then realized what you had just said. “You're my best friend, I'm not supposed to be thinking like this,” You went to turn back around, but Harry reached out grabbing your waist. Before you even had a second to respond you felt Harry's lips crash into yours. His fingers gripped onto your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you, you of course reciprocated, your hands rested on his chest as he pulled your body closer to his. His lips left yours causing a whimper to leave your mouth.

He moved his mouth to your neck, leaving soft kisses and light nibbles down the sensitive skin, till he reached your collar bone. He looked up at you, with lust filled eyes. “I haven't been able to get you off my mind,” He admitted shyly, returning his lips to yours. You smiled into his kiss.

“You're joking,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth while shaking his head. You were sure everything melted away at that moment. Your arms went around his neck as his arms went around your waist closing any distance that was between the two of you. The kisses became sloppy and hungry as Harry's hands slipped under your shirt. The feeling of his fingers on your bare skin sending a wave of excitement through your body. “Harry,” You moaned as his lips ghosted over the skin on your neck.

“Tell me what you want love,” his voice was deeper than normal, and filled with lust making you shiver.

“Touch me please,” You nearly begged him. He raised one eyebrow before letting his hand that he had moved to your cheek travel unimaginably slow down your body.

“Where do you want me to touch?” He asked you as his hand made its way to your breast, cupping it and feeling around over your shirt until he had the bead of your nipple between his fingers gently rolling it. You gasped at the sudden stimulation. He lifted your shirt replacing his fingers with his mouth letting his tongue roll it around while his hand glided down your stomach stopping just before the waistband of your pajama bottoms. “Can I?” he asked coyly.

“Please,” You let out as his hand slipped down past your pants and your undies. His fingers gently glided through your soaking folds, before finding your bundle and rubbing it lightly in a circular motion. You let out a moan at the action.

"Take it off for me," Harry said as he pulled his hand away from you.

You began to shake slightly your eyes shooting open, was this seriously happening a second time in the same day? You looked over to see Harry propped up on his elbow next to you, his features illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the curtains. His grin was undeniable.

“Please, i don't even want to know,” You groaned as you buried your face deep in the pillow.

“Oh but I want to know,” He said as he ran his fingers down your spine. “Please tell me what I am doing in your dreams to make you make those noises?”

You lifted your head, looking at him. You could tell him everything and maybe he would feel the same and actually act on your wild dreams, or you could pretend not to remember and hope this never happened again. He leaned in closer to you and his lips brushed against your earlobe. “Tell me how I'm making you moan like that in your pretty little head,” he whispered.

You let out a gasp, at his sudden close proximity to you. You could already feel the juices pooling in your panties.

“Well,” You gulped. “It usually starts with you kissing me,” His grin grew as he leaned in, letting his lips nearly touch yours. You were sure you were about to melt.

“Just like this?” he whispered, not actually connecting your lips.

“Y.y.yeah,” you stuttered out, your mind going wild at what was actually happening.

“And then?” he asked, licking his lips as he stared into your eyes.

“You move to my neck.” He moved his hand so it was on your neck, his fingers brushing up and down your skin.

“Kissing, sucking, or biting?” he asked. You nodded to him, unable to think about anything. He flashed you a smile before moving his lips down to your neck, barely kissing your skin.

“What's next?” he asked into your skin, not moving his lips from where they were peppering the most gentle kisses.

“Either you touch my boobs or go down lower, but then i always wake up,” you admitted, your voice breathy and uneven. Harry lifted his head from your neck with wide eyes.

“You're telling me that's as far as it goes and I have you making noises like that?” The shock on his face and in his voice was cute, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

“Yes,” you said coyly, a serious blush spreading across your cheeks.

"How long have you been having these dreams y/n?" He asked you quietly. You felt your breath hitch and you didn't want to admit to him that this isn't a new thing, your attraction to him has been a thing for years. You shook your head, not wanting to answer the question. “How long?” he repeated.

“Months,” You whispered, barely audible, But by the cocky look on his face you could tell he had heard you loud and clear.

“And you have never said anything, because?” He asked as he placed his hand on your stomach slowly sliding it down.

“I didn't think it was appropriate,” You mumbled, as you watched his hand as it slipped between the hem of your pajamas and panties. You let out a gasp as his fingers slid up and down your panties.

"So wet, and for what? I haven't even done a thing," Harry teased. You couldn't believe this was happening, especially after the day you had. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, but in this moment you could care less. "Tell me what you want me to do," he told you as he rubbed you over your panties.

"If we're being honest Harry, all I can think of is how you would feel inside of me," as soon as the words left your mouth you were shocked at yourself, unsure of what exactly had come over you.

"Let's find out then princess," he whispered as he grabbed your pants and panties and peeled them off your body. You felt exposed laying sans bottoms in front of Harry, your friend, who you had feelings for. He reached down, running a finger through your slick folds, and then bringing it up to his mouth. The motion alone was enough for you to nearly die, the idea of Harry tasting you was unbelievably hot, and judging by the obvious bulge in his pajama pants, he agreed.

You reached out to palm him through the fabric of his pants, and as soon as you made contact he let out a quiet groan before pushing you down onto the bed, and finally connecting your lips.

Kissing Harry was everything you expected and more, his lips were soft and gentle all while being rough and hungry for yours. He kissed you with such passion you were sure this had to be yet another dream. It wasn't until you managed to push his sweats halfway down his thigh, revealing his hard outline in his boxers that you were fully sure this was in fact happening.

He moved his lips from yours and down the entirety of your body, focusing a little on your breasts, being sure to pay each one the equal amount of attention, until finally making his way to right above your heat. This was always the part you would wake up, never having experienced Harry between your legs, tongue at work while his curls tickled the inside of your thighs, just the thought of wrapping your fingers in those unruly curls to hold him closer to you made your mouth salivate. When he finally dipped his head down, running his tongue all the way from your entrance to your clit you let out a loud moan, forgetting that the three others were only separated by thin walls. The noises you were making were like music to Harry's ears, telling him he was doing a perfect job, and once your fingers grasped at his hair and began to tug tightly he knew you couldn't get enough of his tongue. He moved his hand from where it had been resting on your knee, slid it up your thigh slowly until his fingers were able to tease your entrance while his tongue focused all on your sensitive nub, drawing circles and flicking it so perfect that once his finger went inside it only took you about two brushes against your g spot for you to completely let go, and Harry rode that shit out, not stopping his precise movements until your moaning and gasping had quieted a little.

He pulled away from you, face glistening in the moonlight with a mixture of your orgasm and his saliva, he wiped his face with the back of his hand before crawling over you, and kissing you again. This kiss was different, more soft and gentle, still with purpose but unlike the first it seemed rather intimate, Harry let his body sink down onto yours, his clothed bulge brushing your sensitive nub while he continued to kiss you.

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, as you hooked your fingers in the hem of his waistband.

"We'll get there baby," he said brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face. The unusual pet name towards you just made your want for him grow. Harry Holland was to good for this earth, too good for you, yet here he was, fueling your fan fiction fantasies, and he was doing it so well you could almost forget that once this was over, you would go back to just being friends, and nothing more. Cause if you were sure of one thing it was that despite your ever growing feelings for Harry, he was not one to develop feelings, in the years you had known him you had never seen him be in a relationship. Which made you think he just wasn't interested.

With his hips grinding against yours while the two of you kissed for what felt like forever you could feel the ache building back up, needing more of him, needing to feel him. He disconnected your lips, pushing himself onto his knees so he could pull his boxers down, his cock which was oh so yummy slapping up against his stomach before he grabbed it and pumped it a few times. "You sure?" He asked you. Eyes full of worry. Once you did this there was no going back, even though your heart would probably break knowing he would never be yours.

"Never been more sure of anything else," you told him. He flashed you his giant Harry smile before lining himself at your entrance, his cock teasing you as his eyes were focused on your face. He wanted to see your reaction to him, to see how he made you feel. He pushed in slowly, giving you ample time to stretch to his size, though with how aroused you were you didn't need all that much. When his hips were flush against yours he started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, bit then harder and faster, stroking your spot with every thrust. The noises coming from the two of you sounded like they were out of a porno, skin slapping against skin, moans escaping from your lips and groaning from him as he pounded into you. After a few minutes of that he brought his hand down between you, letting his fingers rub circles on your nub, it wouldn't take you long now.

"Harry, 'm Soo close," you moaned, your fingers digging into the skin on his back.

"Me to baby, me to," he mumbled as he sped up his rhythm. When the cord finally snapped you felt a wave wash over you, of complete and utter euphoria. You felt Harry twitch inside you before slowing his thrusts down and falling onto your body. Your pretty sure you blacked out for a bit after that, cause when you finally open your eyes, the sun is streaming through the curtains and you are snuggled up against Harry. For a second you're worried it was just a dream, until you notice you are both still sans clothes under the sheet.

"Morning," Harry mumbles, eyes still closed.

"Good morning," you say quietly, not sure what's going to happen from here.

"Last night was amazing," he says after a few excruciating seconds. You giggle and nod your head, afraid that your word will betray you. "I've been waiting for that for years," he adds. Your eyes grow wide as you prop yourself up to look at his face.

"What did you just say?" You demand. His eyes flutter open and look directly at you, a smile on his face.

"I have been waiting for that for years," he repeats matter of factly. He could see the shock written on your face, so he reached out to grab your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You didn't honestly think I didn't have feelings for you did you? Why do you think Tom and Haz were always forcing us to bunk together?" You think back to all the times where the other three boys would group you and Harry off, leaving the two of you alone, and suddenly it all makes sense.

"You like me?" You ask, a smile spreading on your face.

"Baby, I'd be crazy if I didn't," he whispers, leaning up to kiss your lips.

Right then the door flies open and an irritated Tom, Harrison, and Sam are stood in the doorway. You're fully aware of your naked state now, clutching the sheet to cover all the exposed parts of your body.

"You guys were SO loud last night," Harrison says looking back and forth between the two of you. You mumble a sorry, completely embarrassed, until Tom starts to laugh.

"It's about time," he says, walking over and patting Harry on the shoulder before the three of them disappear back into the main area of the cabin.

"Whoops," Harry laughs, placing a kiss on your temple. You look up at him and can't help but smile.

[autisticandroids]

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

[spnsisterimagines]

Mario Kart

Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.

Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Word Count - 1,911 words

"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday. 

She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.

He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.

"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.

Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch. 

"What is it, again?" he asked curiously. 

"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.

After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim. 

"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.

"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."

Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him. 

"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"

"What the hell?" Sam scoffed. 

"What?"

"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"

"Uh, yeah!" 

"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."

The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first. 

"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.

"You got a problem?" Sam asked. 

"No, but...why Luigi?"

"Who cares, I just chose him."

"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own. 

"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"

"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.

Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!" 

He selected Toad. 

"Why him, Jack?" she asked. 

"I like his hat."

Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap. 

"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him. 

"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.

She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads. 

And with that, they were off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"

"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."

Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."

Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map. 

"You got in my way!" Y/N sang. 

It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now. 

Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.

Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.

Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.

"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"

"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened. 

"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.

"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered. 

With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled. 

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"

"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself. 

"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet. 

"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"

"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front. 

By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred. 

"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably. 

"We lost..." Sam mumbled. 

"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.

"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"

"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"

"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.

"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller. 

"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed. 

"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.

"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."

"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.

"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"

With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping. 

There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.

[sinnabonka]

It’s spec time: Love always wins

(Okay, I promised it, I’m doing it, there’s no stopping me now.) 

For the last three days I’ve been all over the place emotionally, clinging to every post saying Cas is not dead dead, saying his story is not done, but then someone wrote the “but” post and, there I go again, down the bottomless pit of angst. 

I’ve been a Schrödinger believer for so long with this show, one can get used to it. 

I know I’m not the only one feeling this way, regarding whether Cas is coming back or not. We won’t know till we know ©

Ep 19 speculations here

But let's speculate!

Apparently, there's nothing better for me to do way past midnight on Saturday and on Sunday morning (when I’m writing this). 

What makes us think 15*18 might indeed be the end of Castiel’s story:

Everything the crew and Misha told us, officially, is pressing toward Cas dying permanently in this scene. “Proud ending”, indeed. 

Castiel’s story has the perfect symmetry this way, with the handprint, the “Hello, Dean” - “Goodbye, Dean”, and the whole “Dean Winchester is saved” theme.

He is smiling, while Empty takes him, he’s content with his sacrifice. 

Something about Castiel’s monologue didn’t sit right with me for some time. The whole point of happiness being not in having, but in being and saying, gave me an idea of it being the way writers say we can’t have Destiel, but we should be happy to know it’s real and to hear it said aloud after all those years. 

Supernatural had to be the story of two brothers and their journey, and Winchesters driving in the sunset is the most probable endgame we are gonna get. 

Even though all those points seem valid, we can’t trust any of it. 

Let me fix it for you:

It wouldn't be the first time the crew lied about someone being on set. 

The handprint was not scripted. I repeat, the handprint was not scripted.

Castiel’s monologue could be just about loving Dean, and it’s just my poor wounded heart looking too deep into it and seeing my angstloving reflection on the bottom of the well. 

And Supernatural might indeed be about family, but, as we know, family doesn’t end with blood, and doesn’t start with it either. Cas is family, after all. 

I’m glad be are clear on this one.

What tells us Cas is coming back and we are getting Destiel endgame:

(Brace yourself, it’s gonna be wordy)

1. The most obvious, without rewriting his memory or going OOC, there’s no happy ending for Dean (not the crappy bittersweet substitute) without Cas. 

Even without the love confession in place, we’ve seen what Cas’ death did to him before, it shuttered him to pieces. Imagine the damage it's gonna cause now! 

“I love you, I always did, bye bye now, have a long and happy life knowing my feelings for you have killed me dead.” Really? No win can make up for it.

2. My fave point, aka the natural dynamics of storytelling. The big loss predicts the big win. The deeper the wound, the brighter the prize. Following the roller coaster this season has been, we should be up for a pretty high damn up pretty soon. 

So, there’s The Big Loss (losing Eileen, all of their friends, all the people on Earth and Cas). 

Next - The Big Win (defeating God, getting their free will back, getting humanity back). 

Then, we should have The Big Regret and Reflect moment (Sam and Dean talking a lot at this point, realization of things which are important, what they want with Chuck gone). 

And at the end, there’s The Ultimate Happy ending waiting for us (see point 1 again in case you are not sure what that means).

3. You know what, forget it, this one is my favorite. The parallels. Throughout this season we’ve been spoon-fed with context (Geez, it feels nice to finally know we are not crazy, we are not seeing things, we got it all right!) and writers chose to do so via parallels, via reflections, subtle hints. 

It would be some lazy storytelling to shove everything to our faces, so, instead, we’ve got: Charlie and Stevie, Sam and Eileen, the world and humanity, Dean and Cas. 

Everyone separated. Forever? No, not really. And I don’t buy everyone getting their loved ones back, except Dean. C’mon.

4. Unresolved love confession. Yes, Cas might have died with a smile, meaning it’s enough for him to speak his truth and be gone. But Dean? Him sobbing in the dungeon, ignoring Sam’s calls (he literally never chose anything above Sam before), the “Don’t do this, Cas” part - it’s the lowest he’s ever been. 

To sum up, Dean didn’t get his closure. He might have needed five to six business days to process, but he still has his truth he has to find out and then give a voice to. 

And yeah, I know, he could confess via prayer or something, but we all know that’s something needed to be said face to face.  (Btw, he already confessed to Cas in purgatory via prayer once, you can try and prove me wrong, but good luck with that, sunshine.)

5. The perfect symmetry. If I were in SPN writers room, I would literally cry my eyes out of joy at the symbolism this ending gives. I would literally fight everyone against it. 

The broken man not deserving to be saved is dragged from Hell by the most loyal and righteous angel Heaven ever seen. 

VS

The fallen angel not deserving to be loved is dragged from Empty by the most loving and caring man the sun shone on.

I mean, c’mon, people. Poetry.

(We are nearing a very important thing here, fasten your seatbelts, please.)

6. The message the show wants to give the world has changed. From “it’s all about the journey, about saving people, killing things, no one ever gets what they deserve”, the philosophy has changed drastically toward the “good things do happen, you deserve to be saved, to be loved”. 

Come and see what lane we are walking right now: allowing yourself to love again, to experience things again / losing the love of your life a moment later / fighting for your love / winning your love back. 

I believe the final message is: love always wins. 

Love is not one’s weakness, love is power, love is strength, it’s a perfect fuel. 

Humans declare war in the name of love, kill and get killed in the name of love, but, most importantly, humans live and win those wars in the name of love, too. 

7. Go big or go home is on the table, and no one goes home this time. 

Supernatural was a bunch of broken glass for soooo long, I think this time writers are gonna give us something good, for a change. Not bittersweet good, but actually cotton-candy-almost-diabetes-sweet good.  

Why? 

Because *loud and clear* we deserve having good things happening to us! 

Also, it’s The End, the creators have nothing to lose, but, on the other hand, the ultimate happy ending would allow them to leave an enormous mark on the world and Supernatural to be known as the only show that actually could.

To sum up:  

Dean can’t be happy with Cas gone and, following the logic of prebuilt parallels, he won’t have to - everyone gets their loved ones back at the end, because love always wins. 

Cas might be at peace with speaking his truth, saving Dean and being gone, but it is not fair, Dean also deserves a chance to be heard. 

Few seasons ago I would laugh in my own face for these arguments, but the philosophy of the show has been transformed. During the last few years we were being prepared for this moment, slowly, gently being led toward this moment. 

Supernatural has to give us the Destiel endgame to prove their point.

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[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Lavender Lace (Part 2)

Pairing: Tom Holland x F!Reader

Summary: When Tom calls you mean, you decide to show him what mean really looks like. (Part 2 to Lavender Lace) 

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (Edging, Ruined Orgasm, Dom!Reader, Sub!Tom, Oral - m and f receiving, smidge of somnophilia, smidge of exhibitionism), Cursing, Honestly, the dom! is pretty soft 

Word Count: 4400

Requested by @hollandlover19​ 

_______________________

It was a rare occasion that you and Tom both had the same day off but when such an occasion arose, the two of you made sure to take full advantage of it. And, oh boy, were you two making today a special occasion. 

You’d woken up before Tom on this particular morning to find the sunlight already streaming in through the thin curtains and your beautiful boyfriend lying beside you looking as if he was sculpted from fucking marble. His brown curls were barely curls in the morning, more just a messy pile of once twisted tendrils that now just stuck up all unruly against the pillow. His eyes were still shut, his bare chest falling and rising with each heavy breath. The blankets covered most of his torso but the covers didn’t do much to hide the unintentional issue that all men had to deal with from time to time. 

A smirk spread across your face as you looked down at the tent beneath the sheets and then back at your boyfriend still deep asleep when an idea occurred to you. You shifted up onto your elbow and shifted a little closer to him, before kissing his bare chest, marking each freckle with your lips as you made your way up his neck and then eventually along his jawline. 

Tom shifted slightly when your finger lightly traced their way down his abs that weren’t as defined as they were when he was actively filming but you didn’t care. This man could never stop being handsome in your eyes. Your fingers reached the hem of his boxers, already straining with the pressure of his morning wood. With featherlight touches, you traced the length of his erection with your finger tips, over the head, and then back down along the underside of his shaft. 

The quietest little moan fell from his lips and you looked back up at him, biting your lip and determined to hear more of that sweet sound. You brought your hand back up to your mouth and spit into your palm before snaking it back down under the covers and beneath the elastic of the waistband. Your hand moved smoothly along his length and while you did so, your lips returned to his body. Tom's chest shook when his breathing hitched, clearly getting flustered, even in his sleep. 

You increased the pressure ever so slightly on his length, twisting your wrist around the head, when you kiss his jaw line. Another small breathy moan tumbles from his perfect lips and press yours against his gently, swallowing the sound. When you pulled away, kissing back down his neck, you heard a hoarse chuckle, “G’morning, love.” 

You smiled against his smooth neck, breathing him in. “Good morning, Tommy.” 

“Starting the day off well, I see?” He asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes but finding it difficult to keep them open through the pleasure. He sighs out in bliss when you focus more attention on the head. 

A chuckle leaves your lips when you go to kiss him yet again. “Thought you could use some TLC on your day off.” You sped up your pace and you could tell by the groans he was making that he was getting close already, “Is this okay?” 

“Oh, it’s more than okay, darling.” He grunted out with a smile, “‘M already so close.” 

“Yeah? Tell me when…” You cooed into his ear, biting the soft flesh. 

The pace you had set on his length was not fast but the pressure was enough to make him fall apart quickly. Partners were like bombs, you realized, and much of a relationship was learning what made them tick and what made them blow. Tom had a few triggers for each that you had every intention of taking full advantage of today, should he be willing to play along with your little game. 

He twitched in your hand and his fingers knotted themselves into the pillow beside his head. “Shit… I’m gonna-” 

Then your hand was gone. Tom groaned, his hips bucking up into sheets, chasing your touch. “Fucking hell!” He whined, head falling back harshly into the pillow, “You’re not usually this mean first thing in the morning.”

A single testing eyebrow raised when you leaned back, “‘Mean?’ Tread lightly, love. I had an idea for today, if you’re up for it, but I could always make it more torturous if you’re going to keep that tone.” 

The dominance in your voice was clear to Tom and gosh was it turning him on. “Heard we had a day off together and already had something planned?” He teased you, moving to sit up a little higher on the pillows. You crawled over his body until you were straddling his hips, his hard cock rubbing against your thin flannel pajama bottoms. He hissed when your hips rolled teasingly, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you from moving - he was still trying to calm down - and the other bending to cradle his own head. You put your hands on the bed on either side of his body, trapping him in a trap he had no yearning to escape. “What did you have in mind, love?” 

You chewed your lip and looked up at him through long lashes, giving him a sultry dark look, “Ohhh, well I was thinking trying to beat your record and edge you fifteen times but since you were calling me names earlier, I think I’ll make it twenty.” 

“What?! I barely made it to ten last time!” Tom’s eyes were wide with panic but he quickly remembered his place when you gave him a sharp look. 

“What was that? Twenty-five for talking back?” You asked, almost in the tone a teacher would chide a student with. 

Tom’s whole body tensed up and he moved to embrace you in a panicked show of affection to remedy his misstep, “No! I’m sorry! Twenty is fine. I’ll make it to twenty!” 

You allowed him to pull your body down towards his just enough so your chest rested against his but you still looked up so you were eye to eye with the man, “That’s what I thought. Now don’t worry, I’m not totally… What did you call me? Mean? I won’t make you do all twenty at once. I’ll stretch them throughout the day. But a few rules: One, no touching yourself unless I say you can. Two, you must touch yourself when I tell you to. Three, no cumming before I say you can. Failure to follow these rules will result in punishment. Understand?” 

“Yes.” His voice was nearly a whimper. The way you made this boy fall apart should have made him embarrassed but he would trade all his pride if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. The man was utterly in love with you and you were incandescently in love with him as well. 

You gave him a satisfied smile, “Good. That’s one down.” You rolled out of bed and stretched as if you hadn’t just promised him a day of sexual torture, “What do you want for breakfast? I’m starving.” 

**

Tom knew from the start he was going to have a hard time with this but he was hoping spreading out the twenty edges over the day would make it bearable. How wrong he was. You either allowed him to touch himself or touched him yourself about every half hour, just to make sure he stayed achingly hard, just the way you wanted him. It was in those gaps, though, that he’d hoped to find solace, only for you to “accidentally” bump into his member with your perfect ass, which was barely concealed in the short lounge shorts you’d decided to hang around the house in today. 

The first few times were easy. Obviously, the first edge was when you had woken him up with your hand pumping him almost to completion. The second was when you let him jerk himself off in the shower just after breakfast while you ran your hands over every inch of his body. You gave him a handjob when the pair of you were fresh out of the shower before he even had a chance to put his joggers on. The next seven were a combination of you touching him and you allowing him to touch himself over the next few hours. 

On the eleventh, you had decided to up the ante and have a little more fun with it. He sat on the couch, playing Call of Duty with Harry, Sam, and Haz all on the same server, speaking to him through his headset. Video games were Tom’s desperate attempt at distracting himself from the painful ache in his trousers but you weren’t going to let him get off that easy (no pun intended). 

When you came into the living room, standing just to the side of the television so he could still see the game but also see you, his eyes flicked back and forth between you and the screen, trying to ensure you knew he was acknowledging you while also not losing his lead on his brothers. His face fell when you didn’t say anything, only had that look in your eye again. With pleading eyes, he gestured to the controller in his hand. 

“Keep playing. Don’t mind me.” You whispered, waving towards the controller in his head nonchalantly. Tom gave you a skeptical look, knowing you were up to something but he resumed the game as you said he could. 

Staying in your same spot, just beside the television, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up and over your head, revealing your bare breasts. Tom’s mouth fell open, having a hard time concentrating on the shouts and gunfire coming from the game when a literal goddess was stripping for him in his living room. “Keep playing. Don’t want to leave your brothers hanging.” You urged, nodding towards the TV. 

Hesitantly, Tom returned to the game, not nearly as invested in the stats on the screen as he was a few moments ago. He watched out of the corner of his eye as your shorts and panties slid down your legs in one motion, leaving you completely bare before him. You padded towards him, putting your knees on the couch to either side of his hips, straddling him. 

Tom leaned back and gave you a look of panic when you reached down to gently pull his hard length from his joggers. His hands pulled back, the game forgotten but you released him, his hard length practically sticking straight up against his stomach. You reached for his hands and laced them behind your back, leaning forward so you were mostly positioned against his chest. Tom could still see the screen over your shoulder, both hands resting on the controller but he was no longer aggressively slamming the buttons. 

When your hands returned to guide his cock to your soaked entrance, his eyes blew wide and he pointed to the headset with pleading eyes. Your mouth fell open as you sank down on his length, a choked sound falling from Tom’s lips at the sudden warmth. This was the first time he’d been inside you all day and he was already so sensitive that it drove him crazy. 

After you had a moment to compose yourself, you pulled aside one of the ear pads and allowed your lips to brush his ear, “Better not let them hear you, Tommy. Imagine what they’d say if they found out you liked this… being brought to the brink of tears, being absolutely ruined.” 

Tom’s mouth fell open when you began to move agonizingly slow up and down on him, your walls squeezing around his length every time you moved up. Tom was usually a fairly vocal guy in bed, almost always making a sound, whether it be begging you, praising you, telling you how much he loved you, or just little moans and groans. This was torture for him and you knew it. 

You swivelled your hips, having to bite back your own moan when you managed to hit that spot deep inside you that made you see stars. Having finally found that spot within yourself, you made sure to keep repeating that same motion until your toes were curling. Your breasts rubbed deliciously against Tom’s chest and you found your own high approaching rapidly. 

You pulled one of Tom’s ear pads aside again and breathed out, “I’m gonna cum, Tommy.” It wasn’t a whine of desperation, it was a declaration of power. A statement of what you were able to do and he wasn’t. 

The muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed hard, finding himself close as well. He had been so hard this entire time, he was surprised he had managed to go this long without nearing that edge but it was catching up to him rapidly. After only a few more bounces on him, you unravelled around him, clutching onto his shoulders tightly. 

You pulsed around him, riding out your high with a silent scream, hating that you were also punishing yourself with having to stay silent to keep the boys from knowing what you were doing as well. Tom let out a strangled groan when he felt himself about to fall over that edge. He let go of the controller and tapped your ass repeatedly, trying to pry you off of him so he wouldn’t cum without your permission. Broken sounds fell from his lips so quiet you could barely hear it but you raised your brow, clamping your hand over his mouth so he would stay quiet. Finally, you slowed to a stop, telling by the intensity with which he tried to pull you off of his length that was going to fall over that edge if you continued. 

“‘Ey, Tom? You good mate?” You could hear Haz’s voice ask with a chuckle through the headset, followed by a few exclamations of frustration as you assumed he was shot in the game. 

Slowly, you removed your hand from Tom’s mouth and allowed him to answer, “Yeah, erm, yeah. I’m good.” His first attempt at speaking had come out almost more as the squeak of a thirteen year old boy but he cleared his throat and was able to sound more convincing. 

** 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you...” 

“F-fourteen! I said fourteen.” Tom gritted out, body covered in sweat as his back arched off the bed. 

You sat off to one side of him but leaned over his legs, your free hand running up and down his thighs that were tensing beneath your touch. “Only six more, Tommy. You’re doing so good.” 

He shook his head, “I’m not gonna make it to twenty.” He was nearly in tears, cock moving on its own free will at this point, flexing against his abs. 

You cooed, “Ohhh but you’re gonna have to.” Tom’s biceps flexed as he pulled against the handcuffs you had him restrained to the headboard with. “I’ll make them quick,” You reassured with a smile, a smile that Tom found anything but reassuring. 

You leaned down and took him into your mouth, humming with satisfaction at the cry he let out, only making him struggle more. You hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue around his head, tasting the sweet yet salty precum that had beaded up there. 

“Ah, shit-” Tom struggled, biting into the back of the fleshy bit of his hand to try and ground himself. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He had warned you this morning that twenty was most likely an impossible goal but you just wouldn’t listen. Tom found himself desperately on the edge within less than a minute of you touching him. Maybe if he just didn’t say anything, you would keep going until he came. He could deal with whatever punishment you had in store but he just needed a release. 

You watched from beneath hooded lashes at the way his eyes were screwed shut and felt the way his hips bucked up involuntarily, pushing him down your throat. His cock twitched in your mouth, the way it always did just before he-

“You naughty thing! You were going to cum weren’t you?” You sat up off of him as soon as you noticed that tell-tale sign of his. 

Tom let out a literal sob and you noticed the tears falling from the corners of his eyes. “‘M sorry! I just need to cum so bad! Please!” 

The tears that fell down his face did actually make you feel a little guilty but you had to remind yourself that if it really was too much for him, he knew the safe word that would make the whole act go away. Knowing yourself, if he tapped out because it got to be too much, you’d let him cum right now. Both of you knew this was really just for the fun of exploring yourselves and each other and the last thing either of you wanted was for either one of you to not be enjoying what was going on. And yet, Tom still had yet to actually say the safe word. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little soft on him though.

You leaned up and kissed his lips softly, fingers brushing through his messy locks, “Oh, darling, I know. There’s only five more.” Tom groaned as if five were a hundred. Suddenly, your fingers knotted in his hair just tight enough to get his attention and, just like that, your soft tone was gone and your dangerous glare was back, “But if you ever try to pull one over me like that again, I’ll make sure you won’t cum for much, much longer than I did today.” 

Tom didn’t need to respond. It was written all over his face that the message had been received loud and clear. You crawled your way back down his body and began pumping his shaft again, swiping your thumb over his head to spread the liquid there along his length. You shifted yet again, moving to the position where you could roll his balls in your other hand. 

“You better tell me this time.” You threatened, already seeing the signs. Besides, Tom had been so close for so long, he was at the point where any touch practically brought him to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum!” 

You kept working him until his legs were squirming beneath you, only stopping when you saw he was within a second from falling over the edge. “Sixteen. Awe, you barely let me touch you that time.” 

“‘M so close,” His head shook side to side, “So fuckin’ close.” With one finger, you drew small feather-light lines up and down the underside of his shaft and he was bucking his hips away from you. “No, no, no! Wait!” He begged you to stop, not calmed down enough to be able to withstand another round yet. If you kept touching him, he would surely bust in a second. 

Giving him a bit of mercy, you stopped touching his length but switched to rolling his balls in your hand, stimulating him just enough without making him cum. Your own fingers trailed down between your folds and you spread the slick that had accumulated there over your hand, “See what you do to me, Tommy? You make me so so wet.” 

Using your wetness as lube, you began stroking his shaft again without much warning. Tom was bucking into your hand without realizing it but you shifted your weight to sit on top of his thighs, removing his leverage to continue. “Nuh-uh,” you chided, “You made sure I couldn’t trust you earlier.” 

Tom pulled hard against the handcuffs, his muscles flexing as if he was a Greek god. Your free hand went back between your legs and you rubbed yourself in slow, small circles to warm yourself up for when you’d allow yourself to cum with him as well. The tears in Tom’s eyes had since dried but his eyes were shut tight and his teeth were grit together. “I’m gonna-” 

“Hold it.” You demanded, increasing the pressure slightly. 

Tom shook his head, “I can’t! Shit- Fuck!” He cried as he finally came hard. A massive wave of pleasure like he’d never felt washed over him but it was quickly ruined when your hand stopped stroking him the moment you noticed him cumming. 

By the time the first ribbon of white came to paint his abs, you removed your hand and watched as he tried desperately to get some sort of friction to work him through his ruined orgasm. He was crying again, an entire day’s worth of edging now ruined in an agonizingly unsatisfying orgasm. That first glimpse was an Earth-shattering orgasm that was lost as soon as your hand stopped stimulating him. 

You watched with an amazement you’d only allow to show on your face when his eyes were shut as he just kept cumming and cumming. It was clear by the way his cock twitched that it was aching for more stimulation but you refused to give it to him. 

“Tommy,” your voice was soft but it was laced with disappointment, “I told you you’d be punished if you couldn’t follow directions.” 

“I’m sorry! I just couldn’t get the words out in time.” His chest was heaving and his voice was still whiny.

You nodded sympathetically, “I know, I know. But rules are rules, love. Maybe next time you can cum for real when you can follow instructions.” You crawled over him and clicked the release trigger on the handcuffs, slipping them off his wrists and kissing the angry red lines on them from where he’d been pulling on them. He brought his arms down, blood rushing back into the appendages.

“Now, you get to watch me get off and I don’t care if you get hard again. There’s no touching for the rest of the night.” You rolled off of him to lie on the bed beside him, your legs spreading wide and you hooked the left one over his leg. Your fingers swiped across your bundle of nerves and you clenched around nothing as you set the pace that would get you there quickly. 

Tom sat up a little straighter, eyes glued to where your hand disappeared between your legs, “Can I touch you?” He asked, looking back over to your eyes. 

“Why should I let you?” 

“To show you just how sorry I am.” His hand came to rub your thigh in a testing show of affection. Your eyes glanced down to where his hand met your skin and then back up with a quirked brow to show him that you saw straight through his coy attempts. Just because you noticed them didn’t mean you were objected to them though and after an entire day of dripping over Tom, you thought it was only fair if you got a little something in return. 

“Alright, fine. Since you asked so nicely.” Your dominating persona cracked a little when you laughed at the way he nearly pounced on you, lips aching to touch every square inch of your perfect body. First, he started at your lips, attacking them until they were plump and swollen. He worked his way down your neck and then your body, knowing every spot, every button to push just like you knew his. 

By the time his mouth reached your core, your heart was already racing with arousal. His hot breath fanned over you as he took a moment to admire you, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even when you’re being mean.” He looked up from between your thighs with a cheeky grin and you reached down to playfully smack the side of his head. 

“Somebody just can’t learn their lesson,” You chuckled, having dropped the dominant act. It was hard to keep up when Tom snapped out of his submissive one and turned into your cute puppy dog of a boyfriend. 

The shit eating grin on his face disappeared a little lower once again and his tongue ran a long stripe up your folds. You moaned out, toying with your nipples, “Oh God….” Tom smirked against your sex, licking you again, only this time, letting the tip of his tongue slip inside of you just enough to tease. His arms wrapped around thighs when they moved against your will and he held them down. Finally, his tongue flicked at that sensitive bud you needed him to touch so badly and you let out a shaky breath when he finally found it. 

“Shit,” You let out a breathless chuckle, hands threading in his hair and tugging slightly when his lips around you completely, sucking harshly on your clit. “Holy fuck!” Tom continued to do that while gently slipping a single finger inside your entrance, pumping slowly at first to warm you up. With how insanely wet you’d been all day, though, it was a warm up that was unneeded. A second finger soon joined it and he curled them up just right to hit that spot inside you that made you see sparks. 

“Oh my gosh, Tom. Right there!” You whined out, one hand pulling your nipple with one hand and his hair with the other. With the arm he had wrapped around your thigh, he pressed his palm flat against the skin just above your pubic bone, making the pressure against your g-spot that much more intense. 

“I’m gonna cum!” You moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch Tom work you to your orgasm. That band in your stomach snapped and you fell back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure as Tom slowed down until you finished squeezing around his fingers. 

Tom pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your core gently, still feeling the pulsing, radiating heat coming from it. “Are you okay?” He asked, chuckling a little at your absolutely fucked out expression. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You questioned, never having had him try pressing on you from the outside while fingering you while eating you out. It was explosive. 

Tom’s cheeks were still red from earlier as he looked at you with a cautiously proud expression, “Haz had told me about it.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Of course, he did.” 

Tom crawled back up to kiss you on the lips, “Am I forgiven?” 

You feigned a look of deep thought before sighing in “defeat”, which really just fade into a giggly kiss, “I guess so.”