PLEASE LORD HAVE MERCY IM CLAWING AT THE WALLS RN

I have done what gods do. You’re welcome. 💚

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[ We needed a shirtless Joel pic. My edit @lvlyedits.mp4 on IG ]

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Simmer Down and Pucker Up

Kate Bishop/Reader

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After escaping a stuffy party for her mothers company, Kate show you some of her many talents.

Content: wlw,smut, cunnilingus (k!receiving) face sitting, vaginal sex (r!receiving) strap on sex, daddy kink Kate, top Kate, vaginal fingering, praise kink (both ends)

Kate bishop plays the bass because I said so

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Her apartment was smaller than expected. Still huge and close to nothing you could afford, but you would’ve assumed that a girl who could seemingly buy anything In the world would have some lavish apartment.

“You can uh, set your coat down on the couch or I guess wherever you want.” Kate removed the suit jacket she was wearing and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. You followed suit and hung up your coat on the prong next to hers. She gave you a soft smile, her blue eyes meeting yours. Her cheeks were flushed a little, either it be from the winter wind that beat at her windows or the whisky she had drank at the party you had just left, you didn’t know. She looked good though.

“I’m surprised your mom let you leave that party” you looked at her as she started to loosen her tie, popping the top two buttons of her shirt and rolling up her sleeves. Kate laughed and shook her head as she rubbed her neck.

“Do you really think she knows we left? I couldn’t STAND to be there for another minute. It was just a bunch of stuffy old people talking about investments and shit.” She sat down on her couch and started working on taking the bobby pins that held her hair up out.

You couldn’t help but stare, she looked great. Something about getting her away from her mothers ever watchful gaze changed her. She smiled more, she was more relaxed.

“Maybe it would benefit you if you stuck around and listened to those stuffy old people for once. If you’re going to take over the company you’ll want to know what to do” you laughed as you took a seat next to her. You glanced up and down at her form as she put the last bobby-pin on the coffee table. Kate shrugs and turns to you.

“And be a boring CEO like my mom? No thanks, I’ve got cool things to do, like fighting crime and saving civilians” she takes the ponytail off her wrist and ties her hair up.

Your eyes glance over to the makeshift archery range next to her kitchen. Thinking about the girls that Kate has probably saved and how lucky they were to be held in her arms. You laugh a little at your own thought. Like you need to be some damsel in distress to get Kate Bishops attention. The shifting of the couch next to you pulls you from your thoughts.

“What do you say we keep the party going?” Kate wiggled her eyebrows at you as she got up, giving you a suggestive look

“And how would you suggest we go about keeping the party going?”

“I have some shitty boxed wine in my fridge”

You smiled at her, always the life of the party.

“Sounds good to me. Pour me a drink bartender Bishop!”

Kate giggles at your joke and salutes you as she slides her way into the kitchen, grabbing the handles of the fridge to keep her upright.

You continue looking around her apartment. Various posters decorated the brick walls. Some Taylor Swift posters, Abba, things a normal 22 year old would be into. Lucky’s presence seemed to be in the apartment, but the dog was absent. His bowl was next to the fridge in the kitchen, his leash hung up on the wall and toys scattered around the living room. The girl loved her dog, so it was strange that he wasn’t in the apartment.

“Where’s Lucky??” You yelled back at Kate.

“Oh he’s at Clint’s” her voice came from behind you, making you jump a bit. You hadn’t heard her come up behind you.

She hands you a wine glass filled up way too much of some cheap pink wine that smelled sweet before sitting back down next to you. Kate takes a swig of her wine and grimaces, but goes back for another one.

“Yeah Clint took him for the weekend, he knew I wasn’t going to have a lot of time to let him out, so he’s happy at the farm for the weekend” she takes another drink of her wine.

You blink a couple times at her in reference to her morbid choice of words.

“Shit no, that sounds awful. He’s not dead. He’s just…having a vacation.” Kate backtracks, realizing just how bad that also

sounded. She shakes her head and laughs a bit.

“This isn’t helping my case…it’s it?”

“No but, it’s cute watching you try to help it” you shake your head, laughing a little bit and lifting the wine glass to your lips. Kates cheeks flush more and she looks away for a second It was way too sweet, the wine, and you coughed a bit as you swallowed.

“This is AWFUL, how do you drink this” despite your words, you go back for another big sip. Kate laughs at you and takes another sip from her own glass.

“I know right?? Why do you think it’s been sitting in my fridge for so long?”

She sneaks a glance at you, waiting for your reaction.

“Kate bishop you DID NOT serve me your shitty,unwanted wine!” You punctuate your words with a hit to her arm, laughing. She shrinks away from you, taking another swig.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But the sooner we finish this, the sooner I can buy an actually good bottle of wine and have you over again”

It was your turn to flush now, hiding your face in your almost empty glass. Kate did the same.

“Another?” You asked her, nudging her with your glass.

“As you wish” Kate gets up and takes your glass to go get more wine.

Once again you were left looking around the apartment. Every shelf was filled with Knick knacks. Various trophies, avengers merchandise, Hawkeye merch to be more specific. Her fencing gear was hung up on one wall, although it looked like it had been neglected for a bit.

Something shiny and purple catches your eye from the corner. It’s a guitar, you don’t know what kind, but it’s very pretty. Deep purple with light purple and cream accents.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people that uses musical instruments they can’t play as decor?” You tell Kate as she hands you your glass. She snorts and gestures to the guitar,

“What do you mean? My bass? Unlike the other girls you’ve been talking to, I can actually play”

So it was a bass guitar. Kate sets down her glass and goes to pick up the guitar.

“I’ve been playing since I was 12. My dad did, so I had to pick it up at some point.” Her gaze softens at the mention of her dad and she plucks at some of the strings.

“Mom hates it, says that I should be putting my time into another more useful instrument, like cello or something” she scoffs and continues to fiddle with the instrument. You watch her for a minute. Watching as her arm flexes with every pluck of a note, her eyes carefully watching her fingers.

“Show me”

“What?”

She looks up at you, her brows furrowed.

You took a swig of your drink.

“Show me how you play. I uh..want to see”

Kates eyes light up and she nearly runs over to you, guitar in hand.

You sit and watch her pluck out different notes. Watching the way her fingers move and the way the light catches on the silver rings she has on them. She has very nice hands. Slightly veiny, and you can see the callouses in her fingers from her bow and from what you can assume is her bass. You wonder what else they can do besides play the guitar and shoot deadly accurate arrows.

A few notes are played and she looks at you.

“Do you know what song this is?”

Your shake your head, right now it just sounds like the support system to a song.

“Here maybe if I plucked it out with you, you’d figure it out”

Kate takes the guitar off of her for a second and spreads her legs. Opening enough space for someone to sit in between them.You gawk for a moment, no fucking way this is happening. She pats the space, gesturing for you to come sit.

“Cmon, I don’t bite….well, not right now at least”

You set your cup down and move hesitantly between Kate’s legs.

It’s a tight squeeze, but you make it work. Kate puts the guitar back on, the butt of it resting on her knee and her chest flush behind you. .

“Put your hands, here..-“ she grabbed one of your arms and brought it to the neck of the guitar “-…and here”

Kate drapes your other arm at the bottom of the guitar

“Just don’t actually touch the strings..let me do all the hard work”

She starts the plucking again , the tune starts to become more familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on it yet. Kate leans farther over your shoulder, her dark hair brushing your cheek .Your legs squeeze together involuntarily as she looks over your shoulder. The cologne she had put on earlier in the night hitting your nostrils and making you dizzy. She’s humming as she continues to play, occasionally taking glances at you to see the gears in your head turn. She was so close, and so so warm. Your senses were on fire as you watched You both sit there in silence. Kate content with where you’re sat and you trying to figure out the puzzle that was what song she was playing. The missing piece was eventually found as she got to the chorus.

“Do I Wanna Know!!” You yelled suddenly, having the notes click in your head.

You turned to face her, beaming with pride that you had figured it out. Kate returned your smile, nodding she compliments you,

“Good girl, I knew you could do it”

Your face dropped, cheeks flushed.

She couldn’t have actually said that. Your thighs rub together again. Kate looks you up and down,

“Shit, you’re into that aren’t you?” Here eyes flick down to your lips for a moment.

When did she get that close to you? Her nose is practically brushing yours now. You squeeze your legs together again, heat growing at a rapid pace. Kate’s eyes flicker down for a moment then back to yours.

“Can you do something for me?” She bats her eyes innocently. The smudged eyeliner that rings her eyes making them pop. You don’t dare to lose eye contact as you nod your head. Kate removes the guitar from you both and resituates you so you’re perched on her thigh. She brushes a piece of hair out of your face and cups your chin. A whimper escapes your throat before you can stop it.

“Can you be my good girl and tell me what you want? Use your words for me.”

You’re frozen in your seat. Sat on Kate Bishops toned thigh, having her tell you to uses your words to get what you want . Her eyes flick down to your lips once more and then back to your eyes. It’s clear what she wants, but can you actually say what you want?

“Cmon..you can do it” Kate’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and she pouts a bit at you. Your eyes flicker shut as you take in the moment. Her nose barely grazing yours, her thumb on your lip, the smell of the stupidly sweet wine on her breath. You couldn’t tell if you were drunk on that or drunk on Kate herself. Leaning into the hand that was resting on your face, you took a deep breath and gave into your desires.

“Kiss me. Now. Please.”

She obliges you, crashing her lips into you so hard you slide off of her thigh.

“You have no idea-“ Kate starts, her hands sliding up your dress.

“How long-“ She catches her breath, and then kisses you deeply again, then pulls off once more,

“-that I have wanted to do this. That dress has been driving me crazy all night”

You laugh a little and hide your head in your arms. Your back is now on the couch, legs propped up a bit on Kate’s leg as she leans over you. Her chest is heaving and her eyes look almost black ,the crystalline blue that they normally are being overtaken by her blown out pupils.

Her hands knead at your thighs as she positions herself over you.

“Have you wanted this long?”

“Hm?”

You’re spaced out, not paying attention to her question. She looks beautiful . Pupils blown, ponytail disheveled, tie hanging crooked from her neck.

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” You shrug. You’ve wanted to kiss her basically since you met her, but you couldn’t tell her that..could you? Your face is hot and you crave her lips on yours again, craving more of the cheap wine and lavender lip balm flavor she left on your mouth. You settle on a shrug for an answer, thinking it will curb her curiosity.

Kate grins, a sly, all knowing grin. Faster than you can process what she’s doing, she cups your clothed cunt, hard. Your body jolts and a desperate whimper claws it way from your throat . Kate looms over you, kissing her way up your neck, hand still on your cunt.

She stops when she gets close to your ear,

“So shy, cmon…tell daddy what you want”

You clench around nothing at the name she gave herself. You didn’t know she was into that kind of thing, and despite your previous thoughts on the nickname, it was stupid hot coming from Kate Bishop.

“I want…I want you”, you reach your hand up to her face, toying with her lips as your eyes search her face. Kate smiles at you, a dorky, sweet smile before leaning down and kissing you hard. You gasp into her, letting your arms wrap around her neck, Hands tangling in her ponytail. She smiles into your mouth again as her hands find your waist , pulling you back up into a sitting position. She situates you on her thigh again and gropes at you for a moment, her hand finding it’s way to your ass. You moan a bit into her mouth. Kate pulls back, panting. Her hair is pulled out of her ponytail slightly, full lips slightly swollen and kiss stained. Her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at you.

“Can I pick you up?”

“Kate what?”

She catches you off guard. You don’t think anyone has ever asked you if they can pick you up.

“I want to do something but I can’t do it here” she gestured to the couch, her fingers impatiently drumming on your hips.

“Im perfectly capable of walki-“, you yelp as Kate scoots you forward one arm wrapping your legs around her waist and the other hand scooping under your armpit and setting it over her shoulder. She stands, and you cling onto her as if your life depended on it,

“Kate bishop put me down”, she starts walking towards the stairs that lead to her loft. A playful grab at your ass makes you jump.

“Whatever daddy wants, daddy gets”

She laughs and starts up the stairs.

“Daddy?” You laugh slightly,

“Yeah baby?”

Your voice dies in your throat when she responds. You were originally going to question the nickname, but something about the way her demeanor changed made you stop. Kate gets to the top of the stairs and you nuzzle your head into her shoulder, the gravity of what your we’re going to do suddenly weighing on you. You were friends, and this would change everything. Kate presses a kiss to the side of your head before setting you down on her bed. She crawls over you, as you lean backwards eventually laying down.

“So..who gets naked first?”

You snort at her and reach for her tie, loosening it more so you can take it off.

“I hate this tie”, you throw it across the room and then start on her shirt buttons.

“ and this stupid ass shirt” you mutter as you work your way down, aggressively untucking the bottom from her pants. When you look up from untucking the shirt you’re greeted with the sight of Kate Bishops rack in your face, not that you’re complaining. It stuns you for a moment and you forget what you were doing.

Kate smiles down at you and shrugs the shirt off.

“What else do you hate?”

Your next target is her belt. You aggressively tug it open and pull it off of her.

“This belt, and these pants..I hate this whole suit”

“And whys that, pretty girl?”

Kate steps out of her pants and brings her face close to yours.

“Because,…” you grit out, looking up at her,

“Because it makes me so fucking horny….I can’t stand it”

She kisses you again. Kate bishop kisses you like it’s her last time every time. You could die kissing her and you would be content. The last thing you would taste is that disgusting wine and the lavender lip balm she insists doesn’t taste like old lady perfume. She reaches for the hem of your dress, pulling it up your body until it pools around your waist. Lithe fingers work their way around the lace of your underwear. She teases you a bit, running her fingers over your folds. You’re slightly embarrassed at your arousal, you can already hear her fingers.

“A little kissing got you this hot and bothered?? Poor thing”, her tone is sarcastic as she continues to tease you, refusing to touch your clit that’s throbbing for attention.

“Katie…” you groan, bucking your hips up.

“I know baby, I know. I haven’t been taking care of you. I’m being selfish teasing you so much” Kate practically purrs. She removes her hand from your underwear and continues taking your dress off, finally pulling it over your head.

You sit up, facing her fully.It’s your turn to kiss her now. Exchanging hot, open mouthed kisses she whines into you. Kate moves forward, sitting in your lap. She’d grinds herself down on you. You squeeze your thighs together at the noises she makes, attempting to give yourself some relief.

“Kate….” She continues kissing you, moving her way down to your neck while her hands find the clasp of your bra. She ignores your words.

“Katie….” You try again with a sweeter tone. She ignores you again, popping the clip of your bra and peeling it off your body.

You swallow your pride,

“Daddy….”

Her mouth stops working on the hickey she was sucking onto your chest. She glances up at you through thick lashes.

“Yes?”

You could cum at the sight. Kate bishop near inches from your nipple, batting her eyes at you as if she’s never done anything wrong in her life.

“Can I have more,please?”

Kate presses a kiss to your breast before sitting back up fully.

“ I love when you use your words, such a good girl”, you clench on nothing at her praise.

“But, I need you to do something for me first? Can you do that for me?”. She strokes your sides lovingly, rubbing her thumbs over your hips. You nod, willing to do anything for her.

“I’m going to sit on your face, okay? And after I finish I’m going to make you feel….really fucking good” she kisses your cheek and stands up off of you. Your mouth is salivating. You could swear you have died and gone to heaven. Kate pulls off her bra and underwear and then sits back on the bed. Without needing to be told, you lay back, ready for whatever she wants to do.

“So good for me” Kate mutters as she crawls her way up to your face. She’s soaked. Her cunt is glistening with arousal. She had been getting off of teasing you.

“Tap my thigh twice if you need a break, okay? Not that you’ll need it.” If you could see her face, it would have a shit eating grin on it, you know it would. Kate gingerly lowers herself onto you and you get your first taste of her. She moans when you experimentally lap at her, getting used to the feeling of Kates cunt pressed to your mouth.Your arms wrap around her pale thighs as you grow more confident with your motions. Licking and sucking onto her clit.

Kate bishop is responsive. You know you’re doing a good job because she begins she whine. You can’t help but wonder what she would be like if the roles were reversed.

“Fuck…fuck you’re doing so good”,

She rocks herself back and fourth, humping your face. Your cunt throbs. Her noises were so pretty. What you would give to be a fly on the wall in this room. Between Kate taking control of the pace, and your combination of licking her folds , sucking on her clit and the occasional bump your nose gives to her clit, she’s finishing in no time. With a call of your name, she finishes. Gushing all over you face, and you take it, you even welcome it.

Kate gives a last few rocks and she comes down from her orgasm. Once she’s calmed down she climbs off of you and you take a big breath. But not for long, Kate crashes her lips against yours, tasting herself on your tongue.

“You did….so so good.” She says in between breathless kisses. You kiss for a bit more, as she plays with your tits. Pinching and tweaking your nipples occasionally. Every motion has you flinching and moaning into her mouth. You begin to move your way down to her jaw, nipping and sucking marks down to her collarbone. Kate throws her head back, digging her nails into your scalp and pulling your hair. Your head gets tugged back slightly as you whine into her chest.

“Okay okay..reward time. You were so good to me” Kate releases your hair and kisses your head gingerly.

“What more could you have in store for me?” You look at her, pupils blown.

“Panties . Off. Now”, she demands. Her shift in tone catches you off guard, but you still giggle a bit.

“….pfft..panties” you laugh as you wiggle out of your underwear, tossing it to the side. Kate looks less than amused at your giggling. The archers fingers reach down to your drooling cunt to gather some slick on two of her fingers.

“In your mouth, open”

“What?”

“Suck on my fingers”

You do what you’re told, the embarrassment not being strong enough to overpower the arousal you feel. You swirl your tongue around Kate’s fingers a bit, looking up at her with doe eyes. You think about her playing the bass, and how her fingers were moving when playing the song that started this.

“Fuck don’t look at me like that” she whines at you, her dominant demeanor cracking. Once Kate decides that her fingers are throughly wet she pulls them from your mouth, giving you a quick kiss.

“How many can you start with? Let’s see”, She roughly inserts two fingers into your pussy. A needy noise escapes from your mouth as she curls them.

“Fucking hell” you pant. Kate begins to curl her fingers as she kisses you again, once again pushing you gently back into the mattress. Her thumb gently presses on your clit, rolling it so slightly. The band in your gut begins to tighten. You thrust your hips upward. Kate uses her free hand to hold you down.

“Daddy please..” you beg. You sound pathetic, whiny, needy. Kate begins scissoring her fingers while continuing the gentle rolling of your clit.

“ just a little more, and then you’ll be ready, I can’t put my cock in you without prepping you”. Kate doesn’t meet your eyes when she says this. Her eyes are locked on your entrance where she begins to pump her fingers in and out. Your eyes roll back at her words, another moan being released. Your band is tightening at a rapid pace and you don’t know how long you can last like this. Kate continues her motions, and before you finish, she pulls her fingers out.

“Kate what the hell?”

You sit up to look at her. She’s licking your arousal off of her fingers as she gets off the bed, reaching for for the table next to her bed.

“I can’t let you finish ,I’m not done yet”. There’s a smile in her voice as she digs through the top drawer. You groan a little and throw yourself back down on the bed, chest heaving . You’re about to reach down and start touching your clit in an effort to finish yourself off when the adjusting of straps catches your attention.

When you turn your head you’re greeted by Kate, a harness around her hips and a purple dick hanging between her legs. For probably the millionth time that night your breath catches in your throat. She was going to put THAT in you?

“I couldn’t just put this in you without prep, I’d hurt you.” Kate’s climbing back on the bed, kissing your face a few times.

“Fuck Kate..” you whisper as she kisses down your neck. In her wake purple marks blossom, her signature color.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you..you know that?” She mutters against your skin, licking a stripe up your neck. You whine, digging your fingers into her scalp and thrusting your hips up.

“Okay okay, easy girl” she laughs and begins to insert her strap into you. You squeeze your eyes shut. It’s thicker than anything you’ve taken before. It’s not painful, but it’s uncomfortable. Kate continues to push herself in, kissing your face and neck.

“So so good for me” she purrs. “We’re almost in, and then I’m going to make you feel so fucking good” she reiterates what she told you early. You roll your eyes, despite the uncomfortable fullness at your core.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, you know that?” You mock Kate in reference to her use of the word fuck. She furrows her brows, looking down at you and with one quick thrust bottoms out. The nice demeanor she had before being wiped away. The smartass comment you had prepared for her died before it even got the chance to leave your mouth. A guttural, needy moan taking its place. Kate begins setting a brutal pace, not letting you adjust to the intrusion. You cling to her, arms wrapping around her neck as she continues to pound into you.

“You want to act like a brat..” she whispers into your ear, “then you’re going to get treated like one” . She punctuates her word with a particularly hard thrust, jolting you upwards. The familiar feeling of an orgasm started building in your gut.

“What happened to being my good girl, huh?” ,She nips at your ear, breathing heavily.

“Sorry daddy. I’m sorry for not being good.” The shame you had once had felt referring to her by that name was gone, you wanted a release. You didn’t actually feel bad, but you knew Kate would continue to toy with you until you apologized. Kate continues to thrust into you, your walls clenching around her strap. Your legs wrap around her waist and your nails press little red crescents into her back. You can feel her back muscles shift with every thrust of her hips. Her strap hits so far inside of you you think you might see god. Maybe god IS Kate Bishop.

“I know you’re sorry, I know” she presses a kiss to your temple, her hands groping at your tits.

“I was being mean and making fun of you”, a kiss you your lips. She slows her pace for the first time and sits up slightly. Her blue eyes scan over you, watching the bounce of your tits with each thrust, your fucked out face, hair sprawled out behind you, the bruises on you that seem to darken in front of her eyes. Her face softens as you meet her eyes.

“ you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen “, her pupils are so blown out with lust you could’ve sworn that her eyes were black. Her demeanor shifts, from the the hardass she was moments ago to a girl stricken with puppy love. Puppy love looks good on her. She continues with slow, deep thrusts into your cunt. Grabbing your hips to help meet her thrusts, she guides you.

“Feel good?” Kate checks in with you. You nod your head quickly.

“Yes, fuck Katie…feels so good”. You want to close your eyes but you’re scared to, scared to miss a moment of her concentrated face. You moan at a particularly hard thrust.

“So so pretty. So good for me” Kate mutters, you’re not sure if it’s to you or herself. Your coil begins to tighten at an alarming rate , the grand finale of the night.

“Kate…” you pant, ” I’m so close”. She smiles at you, not stopping her movements.

“Whenever you want, pretty girl”

Her words send you over the edge, and with a moan louder than expected, you cum. You cum hard, legs tensing up and locking themselves around Kate’s waist. She gives a few shallow thrusts throughout your orgasm until you’re whining for her to stop, to which she obliges. She waits a moment before she pulls out of you. You hiss at the feeling, feeling empty. Kate gently unhooks your legs from her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee before standing on shaky legs to remove her harness.

Once her strap is removed she crawls back into bed with you, pulling the comforter over you both. Her arm wraps itself around your waist and pulls you close, it’s nice. She feels safe. Neither of you say anything, the only noise is your heavy breathing. It’s comfortable silence, surprisingly not awkward. After a moment you roll around to face her. Gently, you reach your hand up to her face and give her a quick kiss.

“So..” you start, searching over her face, admiring the beauty marks on her cheeks, “daddy, huh?”

Kate groans throwing her head back . She laughs slightly,

“Oh my god, shut up!”

"lesbians for a free Palestine"

downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

"HELP" Hobie Brown x reader.

"Arachne!" You turn at the sound of your alias. Your Alias. It roll out of his mouth in a thick sultry English accent, "I need your help."

"Can it...wait?" Your eyes drift to one of the many spider-women around, earth 834: Zarina Zahari. She looked at him with a raised brow and seemed unamused with the interruption.

"No. I need your help," he repeats cooly his large hand presses against your back and starts gently pushing, "...now."

"Oh- o-ok..." You stutter stumbling a bit as you try and wrap up. "I'll talk to you later, Zar! Hobie stop shoving!"

"stop stallin' then, dove." He huffs stopping his insistent pushing only to fiddle with his wrist. A portal opens and you turn to look at him in confusion. "Well? Are we goin'to stand here all day or are you walking through it?"

"where-?"

"go." He gives a gentle push.

"Jesus Christ you are so impatient today." You grumble in frustration going through the portal and falling on a firm bed in a familiar room. Like the occupant of the room it's calm and serene and the colors are slightly different than the last time you were over. It was ever changing. You sit with your legs crossed on the bed your arms across your chest as Hobie falls through much more elegantly next to you.

"dovey-" his voice rings with an air of amusement at you pouty insistence.

"dovey," you mock his thick accent and he takes a deep breath. "Don't dovey me I was having a conversation, Hobie. What is the matter with you?"

"I'm tired." He says simply wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into the crook of your neck his nose brushes the skin there and he sighs. The little shit is content, "and I don't think I can sleep if you're not here. Shuddup and lay with me."

Constant Craving

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Fernando Alonso

Summary: You invite Fernando to your fortnightly film night with your friends in the hope of spending time with him, but he clearly has other ideas.

Warnings: 18+

Word Count: 1990

Tags: essentially Fernando getting you off under a blanket during film night, fingering, exhibitionism, Nando being a fucker.

Masterlist

“What do you want to watch?” Charles asks, thumbing through Netflix as he sprawls over the armchair. 

It’s your fortnightly film night, which has slowly been gathering popularity with a few others on the grid, and as usual Charles was being indecisive. 

“Horror.” George suggests, resting his feet on top of Charles who shoves them off and glares at him. “Also, who invited Fernando?” 

Charles laughs and raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Don’t look at me! Probably Esteban.” You lie. 

You’ve been sleeping with Fernando for a couple of months now but you’ve been hesitant to tell any of your friends. It’s not like he’s all that popular on the grid, and you’re not sure how some of them would take it. When you’d invited him along you really hadn’t expected him to say yes, and you’re not sure why he did, but as he comes in from the kitchen, flinging a blanket over you both as he settles in next to you, you can't help but be pleased. 

Where you’d normally sit next to George, you’ve chosen to go for the two seater in hopes that Fernando would be able to sit next to you, which thankfully he’d picked up on, and you hope it doesn't seem too suspicious. You’re just looking forward to being able to spend some time with him and your friends. 

Eventually, Charles settles on some terrible horror film to please George, insisting on using the new surround sound system he’d bought to make it more immersive. 

Under the blanket, Fernando moves his hand slowly over to you and you bite your lip to stop yourself smiling, getting ready for him to slip his hand into yours. Instead, he places his hand on your thigh, a little too high to be an innocent gesture. You try not to react, feeling your heart rate spike as he runs it a little higher, slipping under your skirt. 

When you pluck up the courage to look over at him, he’s looking at the TV, face impassive as his hand continues to climb, reaching the edge of your panties. 

You squeeze your thighs together and he looks over at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes widen at him. Without trying to make it obvious you quickly look over at the guys, but thankfully they're all focused on the film. 

Meanwhile, Fernando runs his fingers along the fabric, before lightly pinching you, making you jump before you can help it. 

“It’s not that scary y/n.” Charles teases you, and you feel yourself go red. 

You roll your eyes at him, muttering a ‘shut up’, but it's hard to focus when Fernando boldly runs his fingers lightly along your clothed pussy as you do. He’s touching you with confidence, circling your covered clit with slightly more pressure this time. 

You know that if you pushed his hand away or gave him any sort of sign he’d stop, but he’s also touching you like he owns you. Like he decided he wants to play with you, and you’re right here for him to do it. Like a toy for him to amuse himself with. 

The thought turns you on so much you have to bite your lip to stop a moan escaping your lips.

All the while he continues, pressing down on your clit hard, like it's his. You can feel yourself getting wet, and he must feel it too because when you steal a glance over to him he’s smirking slightly, still not looking at you. 

Slowly, he starts to press down, forcing some of your underwear inside you. Even though you’re wearing silk, its still rough against your sensitive pussy and you squirm in your seat. At the movement, he stops his motions and grabs you, his large hand pressing into you and pushing you back down where he wants you, heel of his hand against your clit. 

When you still your movements he rewards you by pressing into you again, harder this time but your panties are quickly becoming wet from the mess youre making and it makes it a bit easier this time for him to fuck them deeper inside of you, clearly having fun with you. 

You glance over at the boys again, sure that someone is going to clock onto what's happening, but George is trying to sneak his feet over Charles again and the rest of them seem engrossed in the film. 

Fernando notices it too, leaning over and whispering into your ear. 

“I bet I can make you come without them noticing. Just like this.” He says, low enough for just you to hear, fucking his fingers and your panties deeper into you and grinding the ball of his hand into you. “With everyone sitting there, so close, not knowing what a whore you are.” 

He leans back, not letting you answer, not wanting to bring any attention to you both. 

To let him know how right he is, you open your legs slightly for him to get better access and he huffs out a quiet laugh. The kind of laugh that says that's right you little slut, prove me right.

He’s right though, if he keeps this up you’re going to come from this. The fact he’s doing it so brazenly in front of everyone turning you on so much you could scream. Moving his fingers out of you, he pulls the soaking wet fabric up, as he drags them to your clit, the sensation making you let out an involuntary little noise. 

Fernando leans in again. “Careful now.” 

He’s going to make you come. He decided he wanted to play with your pussy and now he’s going to make you come in front of your friends. You can feel yourself going red. 

Because you made a noise, and because it's Fernando, he stops. His hands leave you as he goes back to running his thumb along the inside of your panties. You can’t even protest. You can't do anything but let him do whatever he wants. 

He doesn't let you rest for long though, slipping his thumb underneath the fabric and pushing them to one side. Without warning he pushes two fingers straight into you, making you choke out a noise. 

George turns to look at you. You’re sure you're bright red. Fernando stops his movements, but leaves his fingers inside of you. Charles turns too. 

“You okay?” George asks. 

“Just need some water, ignore me.” You say, reaching down to grab your glass, feeling his fingers shift inside of you. 

“Nah I think she's scared.” Charles laughs, and Fernando decides to start moving his fingers again, just as you try and take a drink. 

“If you’re scared, you can alway hold my hand.”  Fernando adds, and you whip your head around to look at him, eyes wide at the boldness of his words as he works his fingers deeper inside of you. 

Charles and George both laugh, but thankfully let it drop and go back to watching the movie while you take another drink and carefully put the glass down, trying not to spill any as Fernando fucks into you a little harder. 

It’s all just a game to him and god if that doesn't turn you on. 

He adds another finger and it's almost too much too fast but then he presses the heel of his hand into your clit and you nearly come right there and then, his fingers working you expertly. 

Suddenly, he removes his fingers, leaving you aching and desperate. 

You’re not even sure what this film is about, you can't focus on anything but Fernando’s hand between your legs, all thoughts emptying your brain except the need to get off. 

He’s not giving you a break though, no instead he focuses his skills on your clit, rolling it between his fingers and running his thumb over it, mixing up his speeds and technique until you’re about to cry before he fucks his fingers back into your dripping wet cunt. 

You’re going to come, you can feel it. He’s going to make you come not five meters from your friends. From your teammate. Just because he can. 

Risking it, you look over at him, and you think he gets it from how he smirks and speeds up, grinding his hand into you and finally tipping you over the edge. You clench around him, bringing your hand to your mouth so you can bite your thumb to not make any noise as he fucks you through it, your breathing heavier then it should be but you cant help it. 

As he slowly pulls out of you, you take a moment to comprehend what just happened, and before you can even catch your breath he’s on it again, gently playing with your wet cunt with small teasing touches. Not enough to get you going again, but enough to make your oversensitive pussy squirm under him.

He carries on like this for a while, letting you recover but also teasing you to the point that you want to cry. You need him to do more, to fuck you again, but you can’t ask for it. You can't do anything at all except let him play with you exactly how he wants and he knows it.  

His touch alternates between the sensitive part of your inner thigh, pinching it softly and then sometimes with a bit more force, before running the tips of his fingers up and down your wet pussy, all the while avoiding your clit. He dips his fingers close to your entrance, and you think that he’s finally going to fuck you again before he pulls back. 

You let out a little huff, loud enough for just him to hear but when you look over he doesn't react, his face firmly fixed on the tv, his expression impassive. 

When a particularly loud part of the film comes on, he leans in again. 

“When this is over I’m going to fuck this pussy so hard you’ll be screaming my name.” He says and finally, finally, fucks two fingers back into you. 

You’re not sure how much more you can take. You know the film is drawing to a close but if he doesn't make you come again soon before it does you’re going to scream at him, and you don't care who is in the room. 

Thankfully he speeds up, fucking into you deeply and curling his fingers up to hit that spot inside of you he knows makes you moan, grinding the heel of his hand into you. He’s doing it with such precise force. He wants you to come for him now and there's nothing you can do about it. He knows exactly how to work your cunt to get what he wants and there's nothing to stop him from taking it, and oh do you need it.

You feel yourself tighten against him, letting out a gasp that you’re glad can be interpreted as your reaction to the film. Reaching down, you grab his hand, holding onto him as he fucks you through your second orgasm, pushing your hips up to meet him. Coming for the second time in the same room as your friends. 

Part of you is worried that you’re going to have made such a mess that it will show, that you’re going to have a wet patch on your skirt, but Fernando just keeps his fingers inside of you. 

For the rest of the film he keeps them there. Not teasing, not moving, but just inside of you filling you up, reminding you of what's to come later. Reminding you that he can act like he owns your pussy, and you let him. 

It’s only when the film ends that he takes them out, wiping your own come off his hand onto your inner thigh before he moves, winking at you, reminding you that the night isn't over yet.

A one minute clip that means everything to me at this moment.

Ghost x reader but you never actually met him before. You joined a letters to soldiers program on a whim, figured there would be no harm in it since it got filtered through the charity service- your address would never be shared with the stranger.

You didn't know how to start the first letter really, so you didn't do much at all. You shared your name and a general description of your looks and your life. You asked plenty of questions, so your soldier wouldn't feel the same awkwardness you did. You were definitely projecting some image of a strong but smelly jock who joined the military to goof around instead of take things seriously, so you ended it with a pun.

"If you are near a boat, remember you'll always have a hat. Just flip the boat over-- it'll become capsized!"

Your heart sank as you read his rather curt response letter a few days later. Some asshole with the emo ass sounding callsign of Ghost decided he was too good for you. He made it very clear he wasn't likely to divulge much information about himself, mainly for his own safety. His entire letter was matter of fact and broadly negative, punctuated with a comment that he was only doing these letters because he had been mandated to by an "overbearing mother hen of a captain". He encouraged you to not put too much effort into your letters, in fact he suggested that if you were sincerely seeking conversation to pick up another solider to send letters to.

However, his post script admission that your joke was simultaneously terrible and hilarious, and that he told it to one of his soldiers and it made them groan- which he thanked you for- that made you giggle and start a new letter for him.

He tried to act like writing to you was the bane of his existence, the darkness of his week that loomed over his head like the sword of Damocles. After enough time, you learned to just roll your eyes at his dramatics and keep on writing. He continued to keep his private information away from you but seemed to prove time and time again that he did read (and remembered) what you wrote to him about yourself. Eventually, he began to ask you questions about yourself, showing genuine interest in your life.

It was him who broke the photo boundary- sent you a printed photo after months of letter exchanges. Of a man in a mask holding a rather large looking German Shepherd over his shoulder like a sack of flour. On the back, in the usual neat and pointed writing, "Myself and Riley, ××/××/××××." He didn't reference or acknowledge the photo in the actual letter, so you respectfully didn't comment on it. Despite having a million new questions about the Halloween-looking mask. How was that even tactical?

Speaking of Halloween- that was when you sent a photo in return. Well, two days after Halloween, when your photos were printed. Your friends had taken this one- it was you, asleep on the couch in your fairy costume after the party, wings bent and crooked under your weight. Your cat was cuddled up against your chest, and all in all you figured it'd possibly be an entertaining photo to share. After you sent it out to be mailed though, you started to mentally cringe.

'The first time the guy is seeing you, and you look like you probably passed out drinking! Or worse, did you look like a slut? Did you have a booger? You fucking hate not having digital copies of photos!!'

Your self-prescribed embarrassment was only swayed by the fact that Ghost passed the next boundary- he commented on the photo. Kinda.

"P.S.: That photo... cute."

You kept reading and rereading his words, tracing your fingers over the letters. He didn't seem like the guy to kiss ass, or compliment on reflex. From there, you both sent a photo with every letter.

It was nearing Christmas when you sent him a photo of you next to your Christmas tree, all dressed up with popcorn garlands and twinkling lights. You had an ugly holiday sweater on over sweats and fuzzy socks, a big smile on your face. It felt cute enough. Not that you were trying to impress him or anything.

And good thing you totally weren't, because he sent it back to you with his response letter.

"Can't stand the holidays. Bad times for me, bad memories. I don't want this, sorry." The photo looked like it had been wadded up, then upon second thought was spread back flat with a regretful hand.

You couldn't- didn't want to- imagine what he could be referencing. A man who sees the horrors of war and mankind who can't stand Christmas? Something must have really fucked him, then.

You don't send a photo with the next letter for the first time since you had began. What you wanted to say was too important.

"I'm sorry it's a hard time for you, I'll remember that and be more aware in the future. I don't do much for the holidays myself- if you need anyone to talk to... anyone who isn't some big bad killing machine, that is... call me. Seriously. This is my number. Block your number or something, I don't care. No one should have to deal with things alone. ×××-×××-××××."

Christmas Eve, middle of the night, you get a phone call from an unknown caller. You were dozing off on your couch, holiday specials on the TV before you. You take your time picking it up, your brain not making the possible connection. No greeting comes, and you say hello several times to still no response. Just breathing.

"This you?" Silence. "Ah. Okay, I can work with this." You tell him about your day, your week, the last book you read. You were talking for what felt like ages, the soft sound of breathing being your only feedback. Looking at your phone screen, the call showed at just under 45 minutes. You finally yawned, pausing in your ramblings. "I'm getting sleepy... This might sound dumb but... You mind staying on a while 'til I sleep?"

Still no response. You sigh and cuddle down deeper into the blankets covering you, eyes drooping at another movie rerun. You don't hear the call end, but when you wake up the next day, your phone records showed the call lasted about two hours.

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭

Soulbound Ch 3

1st Person POV:

Bobby is sitting in his make-shift library while Sam sits at a desk in the kitchen. I sit across from him while Dean paces around the room. Dean and I had just finished telling them about what happened while Sam was MIA and Bobby was ever so gently knocked unconscious by an angel.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be." Sam sighed, resting his forehead on his fist.

Dean leans forward slightly, "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel."

"Dean I saw his wings, his friggin' wings! Is that not proof enough?" I throw my hands up in exasperation.

"No! You wanna know why? Because I didn't see 'em! Why the hell are you the only ones that can anyway? I mean, Bobby didn't!" Dean raises his voice a little, gesturing his hand towards Bobby, who's just reading in one of his many books.

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" Sam's voice is calmer than his brother's, quieter.

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean argues. I rub my forehead in frustration, these Winchesters always being the argumentative type.

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" My voice starts to raise as well, feeling more and more overstimulated by each passing moment. I roll my eyes as Dean picks up a slice of pizza, sniffs it and tosses it back in the box. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" Dean waves his hands around, irritated.

Sam smirks softly, "Yeah. You just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." 

"Dean, we have a theory." I argue.

Dean stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, putting his hands on his hips, "Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we --" Sam starts before Dean interrupts.

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" Dean yells.

Bobby interjects, looking up at us, "You three chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?"

The boys and I walk over to Bobby's desk, "I got stacks of lore -- Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

"What else?" Dean asks, making me smack his shoulder.

"What else, what?" Bobby's eyebrows crinkle at the question.

"What else could do it?"

Bobby folds his hands in front of him on his lap, "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing. And nothing on why (Y/N) can see his wings while you can't."

"Dean, this is good news." Sam beams.

"How?" Dean furrows his eyebrows and looks at his brother.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" Sam says, a little too excited about angels being real.

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean's tone still holds disbelief.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby shrugs.

"I don't know, guys." Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam waves his hands around. 

"Proof?" Dean narrows his eyes.

"Yes." I say incredulously. 

Dean raises his voice again, "Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."

"Why not?" I cross my arms over my chest and shift my weight to my left leg.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?" Dean's voice breaks.

"Dean --," Sam starts but Dean interrupts him.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam smiles a little.

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God." Dean scoffs.

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." I clap my hand on his shoulder. 

A silence passes over us before Dean clears his throat, "Fine. What do we know about angels?"

My mouth falls open slightly as Bobby plops half a dozen heavy books in front of us, "Start reading." The older man says.

Dean's eyes widen and he looks at Sam, "You're gonna get me some pie." Then he grabs the top book from the pile. I sigh and grab the second book, plopping onto the couch and opening it.

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:

Sam pulls up in the Impala as Bobby, Dean and I load the trunk of Bobby's car. Bobby tosses a brown duffel bag in it then walks up to Sam, telling him about his plan for us to go see a friend of his, Olivia Lowry. Dean walks around to the driver's side while I go to the backseat, Bobby going to his own car.

"Scoot over." Dean all but demands.

"Yeah." Sam responds, looking a little concerned. Dean grabs the bag of food from Sam and rifles around inside it. "Dude?" Dean doesn't look up from the bag.

"Yeah?" Sam looks at his brother while I giggle, knowing where this is going.

Dean looks at his brother, wide-eyed, "Where's the pie?" 

~~~~~~~

We all walk into Olivia's house, all armed with guns and Bobby calling out to his friend. "Olivia?" I round the corner with the boys, seeing the woman dead on the floor, bloody and mangled. Bobby says nothing as he walks out of the room and out the front door. 

"Bobby?" I follow him out, wanting to make sure he was okay. I see Bobby on his phone, dialing someone else's number. "Bobby?" He looks up at me, trying not to show just how distraught he is and failing. "Are you okay, Bobby?" He nods silently, bringing his phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he sighs and tries another number. He repeats this process a couple times, growing a little agitated. Bobby puts his down again, putting his other hand on my shoulder and leading me back inside silently.

"Bobby, you all right?" Dean asks him. Sam stands up from his position, previously crouched over Olivia's body.

Bobby keeps his hand on my shoulder, maybe a little worried if I wander too far I'll end up like Olivia, "I called some hunters nearby..."

"Good. We can use their help." Dean grimaces down at the corpse.

"...except they ain't answering their phones either." Bobby finishes.

Sam looks at Bobby sympathetically, "Something's up, huh?"

"You think?" Bobby leads me back outside, I can feel Sam and Dean's eyes boring into our backs.

~~~~~~~

Dean, Sam and I are driving to another hunter's house, a friend of Bobby's named Jed. Dean's been calling him every once and a while on the drive with no answer. "Jed, Dean Winchester again -- friend of Bobby Singer's. Look, we think something's happening. We think it's happening to hunters. Just want to make sure you're okay. Call me back."

Dean hangs up the phone and sets it on the dash as he drives, "Damn it."

I sigh softly, not having much hope that Jed is still alive, or anyone that Bobby has called.

~~~~~~~

"We're at Jed's. It's not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?" Dean speaks to Bobby through the phone as we walk down the front porch steps. After Bobby's response Dean speaks again, "What the hell is going on here, Bobby? Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?" More silence as Bobby speaks, then Dean says, "We're on our way."

~~~~~~~

Dean is driving, on the phone, trying to get ahold of Bobby. Sam is in the passenger seat with bruises on his face, I try to assess his injuries, distracting myself from the growing anxiety of my surrogate father not answering his God damn phone.

"Damn it, Bobby! Pick up!" Dean yells, looking at his phone, then putting it back up to his ear.

"How you feeling, huh? How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask Sam, holding up three fingers.

"None. I'll be fine, (Y/N)." 

"Henriksen?" Dean asks.

"The FBI dude?" I raise my eyebrow. Dean and I were both asleep in the Impala when Sam was attacked in the bathroom, Dean saving him with salt rounds, while I took the gas pump out of the car, unaware.

"Yep." Sam nods.

"Why? What did he want?" I ask, leaning back against my seat, arms crossed over my chest.

"Revenge, 'cause we got him killed." Sam sighs.

"Sam." Dean says sternly.

"Well, we did, Dean." Sam tilts his head.

"All right. Stop right there. Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get ahold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't think at all." Dean scolds, rather harshly, speeding to Bobby's.

~~~~~~~

Dean, Sam and I enter the house, guns cocked and ready. "Bobby?" I call out, moving throughout the first floor.

"Bobby?" Dean calls. He snaps his fingers, pointing to a fire poker on the floor.

"I'll go. You check outside." I gesture to the stairs, the boys nodding and going outside to the junkyard. I go upstairs, searching for Bobby, calling his name every once in a while. A door slams next to me, making my head whip to my right. Another door shuts at the end of the hall, then the last one opens. 

"Come out, come out, whoever you are." I say as I slowly make my way down the hall. My breath becomes visible.

"(Y/N) Singer. Or should I say (L/N). Still so bossy." I turn around, seeing a woman a little older than me with (h/l) (h/c) hair. "You don't recognize me?" 

My eyebrows crinkle, remembering a picture of my mom and dad Bobby grabbed when he found me. My mother was standing before me, looking as she did when I was a baby, albeit a bit dirty.

My mother takes a step forward, "This is what I looked like when you were tiny. You were only a few months old when that demon killed me and your dad."

"Mom?" I tear up a little, letting my guard down slightly.

She smiles lovingly, "Hi. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, baby."

"You're my mom. Bobby saved a picture of you for me..."

"I'm glad he did, so you could recognize me now. You were too young to remember that demon possessing me. Too young to remember the demon in my body killing your daddy right in front of you. Then Bobby Singer showed up, your little self screaming and crying in your crib. The demon made me stab myself. So when Bobby exorcised the demon, I died too." She takes slow steps towards me.

"I'm sorry, Mom." I try to keep my tears at bay.

"Oh, yeah? So sorry that you're the reason the demon was there?" She tilts her head.

"W-What? What do you-?" My mom cuts me off, yelling.

"That demon was there for you! You're the reason your father and I are dead! It's all your fault! Without you, your dad would still be alive! I would still be alive!"

I sniffle, flinching slightly as a tear falls, "How is it my fault!? I was a baby!"

My mother takes another step forward, hitting me with a right hook, making me fall to the floor. My gun clatters to the floor and she kicks it away. "Mom." I grunt, bringing myself to my elbows before she kicks me in the face. I groan and roll onto my back. "I was a baby..."

My mom scoffs, crouching in front of me, "No...you're apparently more than that. Important enough that demons wanted you. Do you know what you are?"

"No, I don't." My voice comes out strained.

She grabs the collar of my shirt, I glance down, seeing a brand on her hand. "Of course not. Not a clue that the angel on your shoulder is the reason I'm like this..."

"What are you talking about?"

She shoves me back down, sending another harsh kick to my ribs. She stands over me, continuing her monologue, "Your daddy worshipped you. He was gonna be at your beck and call as his little girl. He died protecting you. He died because he was determined to not let that thing have you."

"Mom."

"You were the best thing to happen to us. We were already planning when to give you a little brother or sister. Picturing you running around with your sibling, being a mentor. But when that demon told your dad what you are, speaking with my voice! It's all your fault! I wish I never had you!"

Another tear falls down my cheek, I'm not sure if it's from physical pain or emotional at this point. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She grits her teeth and kicks me again. I grunt and get to my hands and knees, trying to crawl away, I probably have a broken rib...or two. I lay back down on the ground, pulling a pistol from my boot. I aim it at my mother, glaring slightly.

"Oh come on. Are you really that stupid? You can't get rid of me with regular bullets." My mother taunts.

"I'm not shooting you." I grunt, aiming my gun up to a chandelier, shooting the chain. It falls and immediately makes my mom disappear. "Iron. Bitch." I groan in pain, laying there for a moment.

~~~~~~~

Sam, Dean, Bobby and I are in the study, the boys looking away from me as my shirt is sitting on my shoulders so I can wrap an ace bandage on my ribs. Dark bruising covers my ribs and stomach, making me wince.

"So, they're all people we know?" Sam questions, his arms out disbelievingly.

"Not just know. People that died because of us. I saw something on my mom's hand, and I don't think she had any tattoos on her hands, it looked like a brand." I huff, struggling with the bandage. Sam walks over and helps me wrap it around myself, being gentle and not letting his eyes wander.

"I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen." He says.

"What did it look like?" Bobby asks.

Sam finishes wrapping my ribs, standing back up from his kneeling position, "Uh, paper?" Bobby hands him a piece of paper and a pencil, "Thanks." He begins to sketch the symbol on the paper. I pull my shirt back on as Sam shows me the symbol and I nod, "that's it." 

Sam shows it to Bobby, "I may have seen this before." He says as the radio starts up and lights flicker, "We got to move."

Bobby hands Sam a couple books, "Follow me."

"Okay, where are we going?" Sam asks.

Bobby looks at Sam like he grew another head, "Some place safe, you idjit."

Bobby picks up a couple more books and leads us into the basement. We walk to the back of the basement and Bobby opens a big, solid iron door. We walk inside, the boys looking rather impressed, meanwhile I helped Bobby set this up a long time ago. The light turns on, revealing the devil's trap on the floor. It has a bed, weapons rack, desk and a couple other things. Bobby shuts the door and sets the books down.

"Bobby, is this..." Sam starts.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof." He nods, a little bit of boasting in his tone.

"You built a panic room?"

"I had a weekend off." Bobby shrugs.

"Bobby." Dean says.

"What?"

Dean holds up a rifle Bobby had on the gun rack, "You're awesome." Dean smiles and looks at the wall, seeing a poster of a swimsuit model. Obviously not my idea. "Oh."

~~~~~~~

Sam, Dean and I are making salt rounds at the table, while Bobby is writing something down at the desk nearby. A heavy silence hangs in the air as Sam and Dean glance at each other. Dean speaks up first, "See, this is why I can't get behind God."

"What are you talking about?" Sam's eyebrows crinkle.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is." Dean looks back at Bobby then back at Sam and I. "There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?" Sam looks over at Bobby, silently asking for help with this conundrum.

"I ain't touching this one with at 10-foot pole." Bobby chuckles nervously.

"Yeah." Dean scoffs.

Bobby taps his pencil on the book in front of him, "Found it."

"What?" I ask.

"The symbol you saw -- the brand on the ghosts..."

Sam nods, "Yeah?"

"Mark of the Witness." Bobby flips a page in the book, pointing to the symbol.

"Witness? Witness to what?" My eyebrows furrow, a confused look on my face.

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts -- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose." Bobby informs.

"Who?" I ask, irritation lacing my tone at the thought of someone doing that to my poor mother.

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'the rising of the witnesses.' It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait. What -- what book is that prophecy from?" Dean asks, him and Sam standing up and walking over to Bobby. I stay at the table, ignoring the dull throbbing in my ribs.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short -- Revelations. This is a sign, kids."

I rub my forehead, "A sign of what?" 

Bobby leans back in his chair, glancing from me to the boys, "The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?" Dean asks incredulously.

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam interrogates.

Dean scoffs, walking back to the table, "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." He claps his hands. "Bunny Ranch." Dean sits back down with me at the table.

"We're not going to Carson City." I cross my legs, resisting the urge to throw one of these salt rounds at him.

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby rocks slightly in the desk chair.

"Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?" Dean tilts his head.

Bobby taps his pencil on the page in front of him, "It's a spell to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Should. Great." Sam chuckles.

"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house." Bobby says hopefully.

Dean smiles. "Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?"

"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby says with his signature sass. He stands up, walking to the gun rack, "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."

"The fireplace in the library." Sam states.

"Bingo."

Dean looks between Bobby, Sam and I, "That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Sam sighs and we start preparing to leave the panic room.

"Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?" Bobby asks after we've loaded our guns and got things ready. Bobby pushes open the door, all of us aiming our guns and ready to fire. We round the corner to the stairs, seeing a man with dark, curly hair sitting near the top.

The man looks up, smiling a little, "Hey, Dean. You remember me?"

Dean smiles as well, "Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you." 

"I am dead because of you. You were supposed to help me!" Ronald yells, standing up.

Bobby shoots Ronald with a salt round, making him disappear, "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk."

Sam, Bobby, Dean and I get up the stairs and into the living room, I help Sam pour a salt circle while Dean starts the fire in the fireplace. Bobby looks at Sam, "Upstairs, linen closet -- red hex box. It'll be heavy."

"Got it." Sam nods and goes upstairs.

Two little girls appear, both with dark hair and dirty dresses. "Bobby." One of them says. I shoot them bot before they can get another word out.

"Kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood." Bobby tells me.

"Opium?"

"Go!" Bobby yells at me.

I go into the kitchen and rifle through the cutlery drawer, grabbing what Bobby asked for under a false bottom in the drawer, when I hear another gunshot, meaning one of the boys shot another ghost. The doors to the kitchen close suddenly. "(Y/N)?" Bobby yells for me, worry in his tone.

"I'm all right, Bobby! Keep working!" I see Henrikson appear next to me out of the corner of my eye, grabbing my wrist, "Victor."

"(Y/N)." His voice is full of malice, of hatred.

"I know."

He scoffs, "No. You don't."

"It's our fault you're dead. We left you behind. And the minute I heard about that explosion, I thought, 'I should've known.' We should've protected you." I reach behind me to grab my shotgun, but it's flung across the room.

"Unh-unh. Not so fast." I look at my discarded gun then back at Henrikson, "You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a beautiful blast of... white light? If only. 45 minutes."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, "What?"

Henrikson continues, "Over 45 minutes. Lilith said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first. Remember her? Nancy, the virgin. Lilith filleted Nancy's skin off piece by piece. Right in front of us, made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming."

"No." I could feel the guilt racking my brain.

"I was the last."

"Victor..." I start, full of remorse. Henrikson reaches into my chest, gripping my heart, making me grunt and grit my teeth. "Tell me how it's fair. Dean gets saved from Hell -- I die. Why does he deserve another chance, (Y/N)?"

Henrikson sighs, my eyes shutting as my vision starts to fade, before a loud gunshot makes my ears ring. Henrikson's hand disappears from my chest and I crumble to the ground, gasping and coughing.  

"You all right?" Sam kneels next to me as I grasp my chest where Henrikson's hand was.

I wince, "No."

"Let's go." Sam helps me to my feet. He opens the kitchen door, carrying the hexbox while I bring in the bowl of ingredients. We set them on the desk in front of Bobby and he starts putting things together. Ronald appears again as Dean is reloading his gun.

"Ronald. Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals." Dean smiles a little, putting the salt rounds in his gun.

"That's when I was breathing. Now I'm gonna eat you alive." Ronald smiles back. 

Dean chuckles, "Well...come on, I'm not a cheeseburger." Dean cocks his gun and points it at Ronald, but Ronald has vanished. Bobby recites some Latin words and the windows blow open and a wind fills the room. The wind breaks the salt circle, leaving us vulnerable. Meg appears and Sam quickly shoots at her, as Bobby continues to recite the spell. My mother materializes in front of me, Dean shooting her.

Ronald appears and I shoot him. Sam, Dean and I continue to fire as the ghosts show up. My mom appears again and knocks my gun out of my hands. I quickly pick up an iron rod and swing it at her. Meg comes into view and pushes Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam grunts as he tries to push the desk away without success.

Dean shouts, "Sam!"

"Cover Bobby!" His brother responds, his voice strained.

Bobby continues to recite the spell as Sam keeps trying to get out from behind the desk. The two little are sitting on the desk in front of Sam. Meg plunges a hand into Bobby's back, making him drop the bowl with spell ingredients with a grunt. Bobby yells at me in a strained voice as I catch the bowl, "(Y/N)! Fireplace!"

I throw the bowl in the fire, which turns blue. Dean grabs me and pulls me from the fire as a bright light explodes in the room and we shield our eyes. When we look around the ghosts are gone and Bobby falls to the floor.

"Bobby?" I call to him, concerned.

Sam pushes the desk away from him while Dean nd I go over to Bobby. The boys help him up and I stand in front of him, looking at his face. Bobby nods, telling us he is okay.

~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV:

The couch where (Y/N) was supposed to be sleeping was empty. Sam and Dean are asleep on the floor nearby when the sound of wings wake up Dean. He looks up to find Castiel standing in the kitchen. Dean checks on Sam and sees he is asleep. He looks to the couch, seeing it empty and he grows concerned and walks over to join Castiel, who is leaning against the sink.

"Where's (Y/N)?" Dean asks him.

"She is outside, she is safe." He says, monotone. "Excellent job with the witnesses."

"You were hip to all this?" Dean asks incredulously.

Castiel nods, "I was, uh, made aware."

"Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, (Y/N) almost got her heart ripped out of her chest. Not to mention some broken ribs." Dean says angrily.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I plan on talking to her after I'm done with you." He says, the same guilt on his face that he had when he was reminded about blinding Pamela.

Dean furrows his eyebrows. "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

"Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah? Then, why didn't you fight?" Dean interrogates.

Castiel continues in his monotone voice, "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." He puts emphasis on 'your'.

Dean looks at the angel with offense, "Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"

"There's a God."

"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"

Castiel sighs, "The Lord works..."

Dean interrupts him, "If you say 'mysterious ways' so help me, I will kick your ass." Castiel puts his hands up momentarily in surrender, "So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse."

The angel nods, "That's why we're here. Big things afoot."

"Do I want to know what kind of things?"

"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals." Castiel states.

"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld." Dean says sarcastically.

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith."

Dean nods in understanding, "She did the spell. She rose the witnesses."

"Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead." Castiel informs.

"Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor."

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest."

Castiel shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. The seal was broken."

"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean asks.

"You think of the seals as locks on a door."

"Okay. Last one opens and..." Dean trails off.

Castiel stands up straight, "Lucifer walks free."

"Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing."

"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?" Castiel asks.

Dean makes the realization, "To stop Lucifer."

"That's why we've arrived."

"Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice." Dean gives the angel attitude.

"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." Castiel threatens before he vanishes from Dean's sight.

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:  

A flutter of wings makes me jump as I sit on the hood of one of Bobby's junk cars, my knees curled to my chest. Castiel stands in front of me, a gentle smile on his face, his wings folded behind him.

"Hello (Y/N)," He greets, his voice monotone.

"Hi Castiel," I give him a polite smile back.

"Good job with the witnesses, I'm glad to see you alive." He nods once, taking a step forward. "But I was made aware that you're injured."

"A, uh, a couple broken ribs, I'll be okay." 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you," Castiel apologizes.

"It's alright, you're busy, I get it." I hum and smile softly.

"May I...heal you?" 

I give him a look of surprise and I nod. Castiel brings two fingers to my forehead and I close my eyes, honestly preparing to hurt some. But instead, the dull throbbing of my ribs completely disappears in seconds. "Thank you Castiel."

He smiles again, "Thank you for letting me."

"C-Can I ask you something?" I stutter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his light blue ones.

"Anything." He answers honestly.

"Today, one of the witnesses was my mother. Her and my dad were killed by a demon when I was a baby. My mom said the demon was after me, that's why it was there. Because of the 'angel on my shoulder'. Do you know what she meant?" I ask, using air quotes.

Castiel nods, looking down at the ground, he seemed almost...nervous. "It's because your soul is tied to...my grace. Which could be harnessed in a way that can cause both of us great harm, even death."

"W-What do you mean? 'Tied to your grace'? Is that why I can see your wings?" My thoughts are going a thousand miles a minute.

The angel sighs and nods again, taking another step forward. "Every angel has a soul they are tied to. But not every soul is tied to an angel. I believe the term humans use is 'soulmate.'"

I look at Castiel like he grew a second head, "So what? I'm destined to be with you or something?" 

His eyebrows crinkle and he shakes his head quickly, "No, you still have the free will to choose that. It's more like I am your guardian angel. My father, he wanted to give us something to...live for. A lot of angels never meet the soul they are bound to, some die before they do. But the humans they are bound to, they are almost always reborn, or reincarnated. Unless that soul is sent to Hell."

 "I-I'm sorry, that's a lot to take in." I interrupt before he can continue.

He nods once more, fidgeting with the sleeve of his trenchcoat, "I felt like this isn't something I should keep from you. You deserve to know."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks Castiel." I nod, swallowing thickly.

Castiel's wings spread out a little, "I-I need to get going. Just know that if you pray to me, I will be there as soon as I can. I will always be someone you can count on."

(A/N:) 5.3k words later. This was really long, so I hope you like long chapters. This would have been out sooner but my daughter's first birthday was on March 30th. I've learned these take about 3-4 days to write so I will try to post at least twice a week. Thank you for reading and I hope the exposition at the end made sense. 

Sweet Escape (Poe Dameron x Reader) - Masterpost

Being a Resistance newbie was always going to have its challenges, but you’d never expected them in the form of Poe Dameron; Black Leader, heart-throb of the fucking Resistance; being your bunkmate from day one. You realise he isn’t someone you want to indulge in early on, but the more you treat him coldly, the more he latches onto you.

Warnings: Eventual smut, swearing, mentions of sex, violence and death

Tags: Ongoing, Enemies to friends to lovers, a mixture of comedy, fluff, angst and the good stuff. Full of comedic sexual tension. Resistance OC’s and Force Sensitive!Reader

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | More to come…

If you want to be added to the tag list, tell me! Feel free to message me or send prompts to my ask box. 

Read it on Ao3 here!