#I had this bouncing around in my head all day

[lustfulslxt]

What Are We Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : after your steamy vacation, you and your step brother, chris, seemed to pretend nothing ever happened. that is, until you throw a party while your parents are away.

warnings : step sibling trope, spit kink, very slight breeding kink, choking, spanking, slight fingering, brief (f) oral, rough sex, etc

a/n : NOT INCEST SO GET OFF MY DICK AB THAT SHIT!!! they are not blood related in any way, so actually stfu thanks! this is also HIGHLY requested, so enjoy xx FYI i used tara’s pic bc that’s the inspo for readers outfit

—

It has been a few weeks since the little family vacation in which you and Chris had crossed certain boundaries in a profoundly sensual way. Neither of you have addressed it at all. When you woke up the next day, you were both dressed and on opposite ends of the bed. When he awoke, he didn’t say a thing about it. You assumed he was pretending it didn’t happen, so you did the same.

It’s been hard, actually. Knowing what he’s like in bed and how good he can pleasure you, has you thinking about it constantly. Though, you’ve never been bold enough to do something about it. Maybe you were just supposed to forget the whole thing.

So, you try your hardest. However, you can’t help the lingering glances on him any time he’s in your presence, the squeezing of your thighs when he brushes past you, the clenching of your core when he innocently touches you. Oh, how bad you want him to strip you of your clothes and make you tremble in euphoria.

Both of your parents are heading out the door, as they've planned a small getaway, kind of like a second honeymoon. Doing so, leaves you and Chris alone, once again.

The two of you had planned a party, and you're excited for it. Maybe you can finally get intoxicated and let loose, forgetting about the dooming fantasies you constantly have about your stepbrother.

Chris had arranged for the alcohol delivery, while you had sent out the memo. He had mentioned, earlier in the day, that the two of you should get the last-minute supplies you would need; solo cups, shot glasses, soda, and a variety of things to snack on.

You open your chapstick, twisting the wheel on the bottom to raise the stick of lubricant. As you apply the moisturizer to your plump lips, your bedroom door swings open. Upon looking up, you lock eyes with Chris who halts in place.

"Uh-" He starts, pausing as his eyes take in the sight of your lips rubbing the product in. "Are you ready to go?"

You hum, nodding your head as you slide your chapstick back in your purse. You stand up, slipping your feet into your slides, and pulling the strap of your purse over your shoulder. You look over at Chris, who hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

"What?" You quip, raising your eyebrow.

A slight smirk pulls to his lips as he looks you over, enjoying the way your shorts hug your plush thighs and the way your small baby tee shows off your perky tits.

"What kind of chapstick is that?" He asks.

Your eyebrows knit together, "Cherry."

He's suddenly standing directly in front of you, his eyes boring into your face. You can almost feel his breath on your skin.

"I bet it tastes good." He speaks, his voice slightly raspy and low in tone.

Before you can respond, he's flashing you a grin and turning around to make his way out. You stand there, watching his retreating figure, feeling butterflies swarm in your stomach at the simple interaction. If only you had the balls to act on your desires; he'd be under you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

You swallow the accumulating saliva in your mouth, and take a deep breath, following Chris out. He’s already making his way out the front door, so you follow in suit.

The ride to the store is silent, aside from his quiet music playing from his playlist. You can’t help the sneaky glances you throw his way, admiring the way he so effortlessly looks sexy. The way he manspreads in his seat, gripping the steering wheel with one hand. You find yourself clenching around nothing as your breathing gets a bit shallow.

To retain the last bit of dignity you have, you use everything in you to pull your eyes from him, forcing yourself to look out the window and watch the passing scenery.

Little do you know, Chris is struggling with the same thoughts as you. Every chance he gets, his eyes soak in the way you lick your lips, just imagining them wrapped around his cock. The way you shuffle in your seat makes him think about how you would move as you ride him. Your thick thighs rubbing together, he just wants to shove his face between them.

The two of you head into the store, Chris purposely behind you just to watch the way your ass jiggles as you walk. Every time you turn around to make sure he’s still following you, you’re met with a smirk from him. You bite back a smile and continue with the shopping, Chris following closely behind you.

After the two of you buy everything you need, you head back home to set it all up. Surprisingly, Chris is actually putting in effort and helping you with everything. You thought for sure you would have to do it all yourself.

“Can you hand me that remote?” He questions after putting the led lights up.

You grab the mini device and pass it to him, biting your inner cheek as his fingers grasp yours. You look up at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely audible.

“You’re just really pretty.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing.

Your heart practically skips a beat at his words, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. You know it’s wrong to even feel such a way with him, but you can’t help it.

You turn away with a slight blush on your cheeks, willing yourself not to smile like an idiot. Still, Chris can’t take his eyes off of you.

Everything about you drives him absolutely insane, and he just wants to have you again. But, despite his deep infatuation with you, he continuously shakes the never ending thoughts from his head, knowing it’s probably something he won’t be able to indulge in again.

While Chris makes sure the lights and surround sound are working, you walk through the house, making sure everything else is set up and in good condition. Everything valuable is tucked away, and furniture is moved out of the way for partygoers to maneuver with ease.

“Where are you going?” He questions as you head down the hall.

“Everything looks good, so I have to get ready.”

Without another word, you’re shutting yourself in your room. You immediately go for your closet in search of an outfit to wear. After a few moments of pondering, you pull it out and lay it on your bed.

You strip from the clothes you’re currently wearing, replacing them with what you picked out. You sit down at your vanity, ready to start your makeup and hair.

As you continue getting ready, you can hear people coming in and the music playing loudly throughout the house. It’s okay to be fashionably late to your own party. You want to take your time, making sure you look your absolute best. Maybe your plan is to tempt Chris, just so you can have him once again while your parents are away.

After finishing up, you stand in front of your mirror to observe your appearance. Satisfied, you leave your room to join the fun.

The lights are out around the house, glowing and flashing colors in place of them. The floor vibrates with the loud music, the atmosphere filling with it and chatter from everyone inside. There’s people piled on the makeshift dance floor, a few people occupying the sofa, and people scattered throughout the kitchen with drinks and snacks in hand.

You hate that your eyes are instantly searching for Chris. Tonight is supposed to be the night that you forget about him, but you can’t help it. Your actions and words contradict themselves, putting you in the biggest dilemma with your mind and body.

Coming up short in finding your stepbrother, you head to the kitchen to get a drink. There, you come across a few of your friends.

“Y/N!” Asia cheers, bringing the rest of their attention to you.

“Hey, you guys made it.” You smile, the four of you reciprocating hugs.

“Of course we did.” Liz chimes in, “You look absolutely killer by the way.”

You grin widely, giving them a twirl, “Thank you!”

Ash pours you a drink, handing it to you with a smirk on his face, “Who you tryna look good for?”

You and the two girls laugh as you shake your head, “Pleeease.”

The four of you continue drinking and chatting, catching up on things you’ve missed. Unfortunately for you, your mind is still stuck on Chris. You have yet to see him and it’s a bit of a bummer, but you’re forcing your feelings down with alcohol.

You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had, simply enjoying the feeling of being intoxicated. It’s been quite some time since you were able to have fun like this with your friends, so you do your best to forget about Chris.

“Wanna dance?” Ash asks you, grabbing your hand.

You nod with a smile, letting him guide you to the crowd of dancers. Your relationship with him has always been different. You’ve never hooked up, and there aren’t any feelings, but you both get close and flirty. Maybe this would be a good time to get Chris’ attention.

Ash pulls you close, placing a hand on your back. You hold your cup in one hand, wrapping the other around his neck. You move sensually to the beat before turning around and placing your back against him. And as if the universe is working overtime, the second you do that, you lock eyes with Chris.

He’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread and a cup in his hand. He looks absolutely delicious with his black jeans, white long sleeve shirt with a black short sleeve layered on top, and his camouflage beanie.

His face is expressionless as he watches you dance with another man. He yearns to take his spot, being the one to dance with you like that. It’s torturous for him, not being able to be close with you in the way that he so desperately craves.

no matter what i do,

all i think about is you.

even when i’m with my boo,

boy, you know i’m crazy over you.

You sing the lyrics, mindlessly directing them at Chris as you hold each other’s eyes. His gaze trails over your entire body, turned on by your revealing outfit, yet furious at the thought of other guys eye fucking you the way he is.

He shuffles in his seat, adjusting his jeans at the crotch, already feeling a hard on coming in. He hates how easily you get him going, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it.

Watching as Ash’s hands roam your body, Chris brings his cup to his mouth and downs the harsh contents. It’s becoming unbearable for him to see you like this with someone else. He’s growing more and more frustrated, itching to put a stop to it.

So he does.

He gets up, walking over towards you. Your eyes widen the slightest bit, your head tilting up to look at him as he’s not directly in front of you.

“Beat it. I need to talk to her, kid.” Chris says, directing his sentence at Ash.

Ash lightly scoffs, “Can’t you do it when we’re done?”

“No. Get lost.”

Reluctantly, he does as Chris says, leaving the two of you alone in the crowd of people. Chris nods his head to the hall, silently telling you to lead the way. You make your way down the vacant hallway, Chris hot on your tail.

Just as you’re about to say something, he pulls you into his room and shuts the door.

“What are you wearing?” He asks, leaving you appalled.

“What?”

He throws his hand up, gesturing towards your dress. “What is this?”

You furrow your brows, completely flabbergasted, “Chris, what the fuck? It’s very obviously a dress.”

“Why are you acting dumb?” He questions, incredulously. “The fuck are you wearing it for?”

You roll your eyes and lean against his dresser, only for him to follow you. “It’s a party, I can wear whatever I want.”

“No you can’t.” He bluntly states, only to receive a blank stare from you. “Take it off.”

You choke on your saliva, your cheeks immediately flushing, “What?”

“You heard me.” He bites back, crossing his arms.

Despite your increasing heartbeat, you shake your head, “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? S’not the first time.” He casually shrugs.

Your heart stings a bit at his words, and you’re suddenly reminded of what happened last time. How he pretended nothing ever did.

“Exactly.” You mutter, looking away from him.

He feigns a pout, grasping your chin and turning your head back towards him. “Aw, are you upset that we didn’t wake up cuddling? That I didn’t buy you flowers and ask you to be my girlfriend?”

You forcefully push his hand away, now extremely aggravated with his taunting. Obviously, you know that’s entirely off the table. There’s not a single chance the two of you could work together, it’s simply unattainable.

“You don’t have to be a dick.” You tell him.

He smirks, “Then just let me give it to you.”

Your face heats up instantly at the thought, and even though you want it so bad, you feel as if you need to turn it down.

With a shake of your head, you simply decline, “No.”

“Oh, come on. I know how bad you want it. You think I don’t hear you moaning my name in your sleep? When you shower?”

You flush with embarrassment, putting your head down in an attempt to hide your humiliation.

“Kid, I’m not tryna make fun of you.” He gently speaks, “M’just saying you don’t need to lie to yourself.”

“Chris—“

“Shh.” He cuts you off, running his hand up your thigh. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his fingertips graze over the fabric of your underwear. Part of you wants to stop him, but an even bigger part of you never wants him to stop.

Guess which part wins.

You suddenly grab a handful of his shirt and yank him into you, your lips smashing together in a heated kiss. As cliche as it is, it feels like time has stopped the moment your lips meet. This is what both of you have been longing for since the last time you were like this.

Chris’ hands instantly wrap around you, engulfing your ass in a tight squeeze, pulling a low moan from you that he swallows with his kiss. Your tongues sensually dance together, gliding all around each other’s mouths.

Your hands run up his chest and around his head, pulling his beanie off and throwing it for access to his hair. Your fingers run through it, tugging at the strands, eliciting a groan from him.

The kiss is feverish and sloppy, showing how bad you’ve both been craving one another. Chris’ hands slide up your skirt, gripping your ass even tighter than before, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You’re both frantic with your movements, desperate to feel each other.

You walk him backwards to the bed, your lips and hands never leaving him once. Suddenly, he pulls away, his mouth moving to your neck as he tilts your head.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He groans against your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine.

You whine at his words and the way his mouth skillfully works on your sensitive skin. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding him flush against you as he sucks and nips at your throat.

You tug him back by his hair, your hands instantly dropping to the hem of his shirt. He helps you in removing it before doing the same to you, leaving you both topless. He groans at the sight of your bare chest, your perky tits sitting pretty just for him.

He takes them and squeezes them in his palms, your hard nipples rubbing against the center of his hands. You softly moan at the sensation, your hands gripping his biceps. Your skin burns beneath his touch, your center throbbing with need as your arousal soaks your panties.

“Been waiting forever for this.” He admits in a low voice.

You’re breathless from his touch, “What took you so long?”

“Wanted to see if you would cave first, but then I saw you dancing with that douchebag and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Your hands meet his belt, immediately undoing the buckle and pulling it from his jeans. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off, leaving him in his boxers. Seeing his cock straining against the fabric, you’re eagerly dropping to your knees, only he stops you before you can get all the way down.

“Nuh uh.” He shakes his head, pulling you back up. “Get on the bed.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you oblige and crawl onto the bed, sitting on the back of your legs. Chris palms himself through his boxers as he watches you, licking his lips. He joins you on the bed, only behind you rather than in front of you like you’d thought.

You go to ask him what he’s doing, only he pushes your head down into the bed, arching your back as he pulls your ass up. Your heart thumps in your chest, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

He audibly groans at the sight of your skirt barely covering your ass, your wet panties on show. He reaches forward, pressing his thumb into the wet patch, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Always so wet for me, hm?” He teases.

You whine into the sheets, pushing your ass back for more friction, only to receive a loud smack in return. Your body jolts from the feeling, a stinging sensation running along your skin, before being soothed by his hand rubbing it out. His hands move to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down along with your underwear, tossing both aside.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He whispers, admiring the way your pussy glistens from behind.

He brings his hand up to you, dragging it through your folds. You can’t help but push back into him, eager for more. He tsks, spanking you once again, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Never learn, do you?” He shakes his head, squeezing the plush skin. “Be patient, or you’re not getting shit.”

“M’sorry.” You whine, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

Suddenly, his mouth is on you, his tongue gliding between your wet folds. The sounds of your moans are muffled with your face buried in the bed. He continues to lap at your heat, shaking his head back and forth, his tongue repeatedly swiping over your clit. His mouth wraps around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it as he presses two fingers into your entrance.

“Oh my g-god.” You cry, your legs instantly twitching.

“Taste so fucking good.” He groans as he pulls away, his fingers pumping in and out of you at an extremely fast pace.

Your entire body feels ablaze as it’s wracked with pleasure. It takes merely seconds for your thighs to quiver and your toes to curl as your pussy squelches, your juices squirting out of you.

“Fuuuck.” You hear him mutter.

He pulls his hand away from you, taking his fingers in his mouth to clean them of your essence. Next, he’s grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it in your folds to coat it in your arousal. He puts the tip at your entrance and slowly pushes forward, watching your pussy squeeze around him.

Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and he only gives you a split second to adjust to him in this new position, before he’s thrusting in and out of you. Your mouth parts, lewd moans falling from it as he pumps in and out of you in such a rough manner.

“Chris.” You gasp, feeling him continuously hit your sweet spot.

His thrusts are quick and deep, your walls gripping him tightly as he shoves in and out. His hands are placed on your waist to keep you upright as he drills into you. The coil in your stomach is twisting and twisting, your face scrunched in pleasure as you take him. A continuous ‘ah, ah, ah’ sound leaves your mouth with every stroke.

Chris bites his bottom lip, furrowing his brows in concentration as he tries not to bust right then and there. Just the sight of your pussy sucking him in is almost sending him over the edge.

His hand wraps around your hair, tugging you up into him. Your back meets his chest, your skin sticking together as he continues to fuck you. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your jaw is slack. Your baby hairs are slick against your forehead, and your face is flushed.

His hand pulls your mouth open a bit more, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes open just in time to see him spitting in your mouth, and you can’t help but clench around his cock as you swallow.

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He groans, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing.

Tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of him abusing your cervix. You fall back down, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Chris’ thrusts grow faster and harder, you walls going rigid around his cock.

The tightening in your stomach grows stronger before it snaps, and you’re cumming around his dick with a loud strung out moan. The pressure in your stomach soon dissipates as Chris helps your ride out your high. His thrusts fall sloppy as his orgasm sneaks up on him.

“M’bout to cum. Where do you want it?” He moans out.

“Inside.” You force out, clenching around him. “Please fill me up.”

His hips sputter at your words, and he groans as his cock twitches inside of you. “You’re so fucking nasty.”

He spews out a few curse words as he empties his load into you, painting your walls with his milky cum. He slowly pumps in and out of you a few more times, before pulling out altogether and falling beside you on the bed.

The two of you are left panting as you regather yourselves, knowing you have a house full of guests you need to tend to. You look over at him with a small grin, admiring the way his cheeks are flushed a rosy color, and the way his hair is sticking to his forehead.

Before sitting up, you lean over and hungrily kiss him as if you can’t get enough. You can’t. He moans into your mouth, before reluctantly pushing you away.

“Let’s get back out there before I fuck you again.” He forces out in a breath.

You sigh, nonetheless standing to redress yourself. You’ll have to clean up later. You both start putting your clothes back on. Then, he’s at the door waiting for you while you’re still looking for your panties.

“Chris! Where’s my underwear?” You ask.

“Hell if I know.” He shrugs, “Hurry up, we’ve been gone long enough.”

“Whose fault is that?” You retort as you look in the mirror, making sure you look presentable.

He smirks, smacking your ass as you walk out the door, “Yours for being so damn fine.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you swat his hand away. The moment you both enter the living room, you’re parting from each other in order to look casual as if he wasn’t just balls deep in you.

You search for your friends, finding them talking to each other against the counter.

“Y/N, where have you been? I’ve been searching everywhere for you?”

Before you can even think to come up with something, Ash is pulling you aside, “Are you okay, have you been crying?”

Your face heats up at that, clearing your throat, “No, yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares suspiciously at you for a moment before nodding. He goes to lead you back to the group and, only then, do you notice how drunk he is from the way he’s stumbling.

“Ash, what the fuck?” You mumble.

“Yeah,” Asia begins, “He’s had a lot to drink. Speaking of, um, you’re out of vodka now.”

Your eyes widen at that information. Before you can say anything, Chris has his arm around Ash, helping him stand up.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you some fresh air.” He says, guiding him to the front door.

You furrow your eyebrows as you watch him, before ultimately turning back to your friends to see what they’ve been up to.

Chris stops Ash at the door, turning him back to see you guys. He pats him on the back, before pointing over at you, “See your little friend over there? Yeah, Y/N. Wanna know something funny? That entire time you were talking to her, my kids were dripping down her thighs.”

Ash’s head snaps over to Chris, his eyes wide, “What?!”

“Yep. Should’ve seen her, begging me to fill her up.” Chris grins, taunting the guy.

“You’re not serious.”

Chris smirks, digging in his pocket. He pulls out your black lacy panties, dangling them in front of Ash’s face. Only then do you look back over them, and your jaw drops as the two look from your panties over to you, Chris with a sinister look in his eyes, Ash with eyes wide as saucers.

“Oh my fucking god.”

—

a/n : matt series nextttt!!

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @keira324 @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @luul223 @matt444nixi @sturniololol @evieolo @dlyansworld @luv2matt @nmegamett20

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #step bro chris #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #step siblings

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

#i got too excited after the episode at 5am and tired myself out so much i fell back asleep at 8am lol #buddie #911 #buddie fic #911 fic #writing tag #mine #also i agreed to go out for drinks with high school friends tonight and im going to be so badly behaved because they’ll want to catch up #and all i want to do is think about these damn firefighters

[munariplans]

forty, love | natasha romanoff

synopsis: winning was everything, and losing was a sin. unfortunately, you were on a losing streak, and natasha loved winning.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.9k words

a/n: inspired by that one scene from challengers.

masterlist

“slice forehand.”

thwock. 

“inside-out forehand.”

another thwock.

“move to the volley. hurry. your feet aren’t keeping up.”

despite the insult, the thwock lands. the ball bounces and hits right where you want it to hit. the singular drop of sweat that dripped onto the ground between your feet is not wasted, as you look up to your performance coach across the net, unamused sneer hidden behind his thick moustache. 

“not fast enough?” you quipped. 

he sighed, shaking his head. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re still number 2 in the state. if you want a shot at beating the princeton team, you’re still going to have to move much faster than that.”

you wiped the beads of sweat on your forehead, fixing the slightly loose hair tie, before nodding understandingly. still, you weren’t too happy at his latest onslaught of insults this past session. “you could have at least given me credit for the dropshot earlier when you came in. it was perfect.”

“perfect shots don’t get you the win. defeating your opponent does.”

he signalled that practice was over for the day, and you walked off court at the same time as he did to gather your things. the woman watching from the stands stood at that moment, and began her descent down to meet you in the locker room. 

natasha romanoff walked up behind you as you changed, the sudden feeling of her hands on your bare skin a welcomed intrusion, as you sighed into her touch. she let herself have her hands full for a minute, roaming over your muscles until she was satisfied, before settling them on the edge of your shoulders, massaging the tight knots out of them. you were still so tense.

she pressed her lips lovingly on a scar, waiting for you to finish panting at the feeling of where her hands had been. “you were great out there today.”

“coach said otherwise.”

“mm,” she let you put on your shirt, turning you around to kiss you after, “you were fighting him back just as hard. are you okay?”

you zipped up your bag then, taking a moment to avoid her question, before, “do you think i’m like what he says? what they all say…?”

natasha motioned for you to continue. “that i’m all bark, no bite, now? that i’ve lost my mojo?”

“baby–”

“–because you can tell me straight up. i can take it. you’re my girlfriend, you can tell me, i can take it.” the room had suddenly gotten tense, a stark drop to your composure that you had managed to hide so well on the court. in the locker rooms, you were angry again. you had been angry for a while now. 

“losing a few matches isn’t going to hurt your record, baby. you’re this college’s star player, you know this.”

“but losing four matches in a row is going to shatter my ego. my confidence. you of all people should know this!”

you had backed away from natasha, eyebrows raised, posture standoffish. she hated this. she hated seeing you like this. as bad as it was to say, she hated seeing you lose. it was the worst part of yourself that you let her see, when you lost. but what was she, as a partner, if not to stand by you through your career, your ups and down? she should be sharing your pain, taking some burden off of your shoulders, at the very least. 

“just last week, i let it go to break point, and i still fucking lost!” you had raised your fist at this point, nearly punching it at the steel frames of the lockers, when you reminded yourself of just the complications that could arise from shattered knuckles. your coach would never let this go. but still, the gesture was there, and the fire in your eyes remained all too dangerous. 

suddenly, you were pressed against the lockers, the weight of natasha’s body engulfing yours, as her arms came to hold you tight against herself. you were forced to embrace her back, despite your slight protests and pleas, but she was having none of it. she had wrapped you up in her tight, strong embrace, and her hands were finding themselves to bring your face towards hers, eyes boring into your own. 

“nat–”

“–last week, last week, you were against a professional, baby. a nearly retired one at that, but she was fighting for wins at the australian open not too long ago. she’s been doing this longer than you have even started learning how to hit the ball. don’t be so hard on yourself, will you? nobody, nobody else, could have gotten to where you were with her. break point is a feat in itself.”

you didn’t look convinced. but she didn’t need you to look convinced; she needed you to listen. “do you understand? you need to look at things from a different perspective, from my perspective. not your coach’s, not your teammates, certainly not that player’s fucking groupies, who were gloating about your loss all the way out of the stadium. you need to believe in yourself, as i have always believed in you. and you can’t keep going on like this. do you understand me?”

natasha’s eyes never departed from yours, her gaze firm. her hands were shaking, a little unsure of your reaction, because as far as she knew, you didn’t look like you were going to back down from a fight. either with yourself or her, she didn’t know. she certainly hoped it was at least the latter.

but then, your gaze cast downwards, you nodded ashamedly. sighing into the air, you pressed your face into the crook of her neck for a moment, the height advantage letting you lift her up, and she cooed as she let you gather yourself. 

“i understand.”

she patted the back of your head. like a mother would a petulant, but repenting child. “good. now let’s go get dinner, then a massage for your shoulders. then back to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.”

– 

natasha watched you push around your vegetables for nearly half of dinner. she knew the campus meal tickets didn’t exactly provide for five-star dishes, but she had never seen you so down like this before. it was almost as if you had become a ghost of yourself. 

“steve’s birthday is coming up soon.” she decided to change the topic, and hopefully, get your mind off of tennis for a minute. 

you gave a nonchalant grunt, finally stabbing the piece of broccoli. she steadied herself. “should we get him the pair of boots he’s always wanted? i figured we could pull in wanda and clint too, if we want to get him a bigger gift.”

your eyes were still unfocused. it was as if she wasn’t there at all. “baby.”

you looked up, half-expecting natasha to be pissed. but she only gave you a small smile. “steve’s birthday?”

“we can get him the boots. i don’t mind paying for them. but i don’t think i’m going to his party.”

“why not? your match on that day ends in the afternoon.”

“yeah, but i think i’m going to be pretty tired.” not to mention if i lose.

natasha decided not to argue with you on it. she knew enough how touchy the subject of your career already was. instead, she jabbed the last piece of corn with her fork, and gestured for your mouth to open. 

the both of you left shortly after. 

– 

in a friendly match the next weekend with the neighbouring college, you were faced up against the top ranking player once more. being a finals round, you had imagined that the crowd would be roaring with applause for how far you’d come, but when the sets began to balance after your first few strong starts and the heat of the afternoon sun began beating on everyone’s backs, the crowd dwindled out one by one from boredom and, to you at least, the possible disappointment of you losing. 

it was only expected, from a disenchanted champion. the college’s once pride and joy, the one who was once regarded as a candidate with potential to win grand slams. unfortunately, people only really like you when you win. 

but natasha stayed. and so did her friends, and your friends that she had managed to force to stay. you had gestured that they could leave if they wanted to, during the breaks, but they were afraid to even nod, or make a move, lest they wanted to be subjected to natasha’s ferocity, sitting behind them. it was almost humiliating that they stayed only because your girlfriend was forcing them to, you thought. 

thwock. a missed shot from your end.

another thwock. “out!”

by your last mistake, the crowd had only left natasha, steve, and some die-hard groupies of yours that were slowly losing hope too. so when the final set was determined by your failure to execute a passing shot, and subsequently touching the net, the roars from the other side seemed almost mocking. you had lost. 

natasha rushed down to the locker rooms again, only this time, your friends followed, and the absolute mortification that you felt, along with the pure anger and frustration of losing, overpowered any remaining sense of decency you had left. 

the moment you spotted her coming in, then the company behind her, you almost felt like the first time the instinct to shatter your racket came to you. 

“out! all of you, out!” you had screamed, not caring to be decent even to your teammates. 

“come on, we just wanted–”

“–i don’t care, out! you’ve just come in here to humiliate me, haven’t you? gloating how i could lose, even in a friendly! how shit of a player i am, now!”

the people behind natasha grumbled, but one by one shuffled out. it was better to tell you about how unfair you were being another day, not when emotions were running so high. natasha was thankful they understood. but it didn’t make what you did any less unfair.

she sat beside you as you kept your head down. “that wasn’t very nice.”

“losing isn’t very nice.”

“they meant well, baby.”

“no, they don’t.”

“how many times do i have–”

“–a ton, okay, natasha?” you looked up, slamming your drink between the both of you. “a ton of times, you have to remind me. that my friends love me, that they’re here to support me. but how the fuck am i supposed to believe that when i don’t even have anything for them to support me for?”

“your friends don’t just love you because you’re good at tennis, my love. i don’t love you just because you’re good at tennis. this is ridiculous! i can’t believe we are arguing over this, i can’t believe you think of yourself so lowly like this.”

natasha was met with a deafening silence the moment she finished her last words, her chest heaving up and down from her own disappointment. the rest of the players had filtered out, upon hearing your argument, leaving only you and her there. like always. 

your hand rubbed over your face resignedly, hands covering the beautiful eyes natasha loved loves staring into. she wanted to reach out, to pull your hands away from yourself, to even get you to answer her, to let her know that you at least believed you were better than this. but she was afraid of the answer she was going to get. 

then, she heard a sniffle, and a small, choked sob afterwards. and that was it. 

you were up standing the next second, and slinging your racket bag over your shoulder. “i’m going to the gym. i know you have class after this. don’t wait up.”

she was left there alone, the dismay and disappointment of it all weighing down on her, the moment the doors to the locker room were slammed. 

– 

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that, i apologised to my friends, now i want to apologise to you. i love you, i’m sorry. the words didn’t seem enough. the guilt that accumulated and eventually avalanched into your heart was almost insurmountable, after the incident with  natasha. you weren’t even sure you were worthy of being forgiven, you thought as you sat in your car later that night, still angry at her, but making sure that she was safe in the short walk home from her class to her dorm. 

which was why you found yourself in the florist off campus a few days later, asking the employee what flowers best represented i’m sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend, and which flowers were most likely going to help you be forgiven. the white and blue carnations reminded you of the colours in natasha’s room. 

“how much is it?” you asked, to which the cashier then showed you the till. you cursed internally, not even knowing flowers were so expensive nowadays.

checking the contents of your wallet for a minute, you cursed even louder at yourself at the emptiness that greeted you. losing matches meant losing money, that was for sure, and it wasn’t a secret that you were mostly funding your life with prize money won from big matches in the state, with college at least funded with the athlete’s scholarship. yet another reason why i can’t keep doing this, you thought.

it was between dinner for the next few days and gas for your car, and the flowers. fuck it, skipping dinners once in a while wouldn’t hurt, and you could walk from place to place. 

you handed over your card, and began the walk to natasha’s dorm. 

when she received you, natasha noticed you looked almost like a kicked puppy, none of the anger or smugness you carried with you on and off the court. no, with her, you were soft, and vulnerable, and all-too pitiful for her love. she knows the power she has over you. she never had to worry. 

so she brought you in, allowed you to apologise, to beg at her feet, and for her mercy and forgiveness. she allowed you to worship her, taking her to her bed and whispering how much you messed up to her skin, how much you loved her when you were making her see stars, how much you thought you would hurt yourself if she ever left you when she was chanting your name over and over again, begging you to let her come undone.

– 

steve’s birthday rolled around, and natasha was once again seated in the front row for you. she never missed your matches. 

you thought she should have missed this one, when the match reached a break point and you lost again. when you had gotten so frustrated, so furious, over a careless choke that you had, that you received a punishment for smashing your racket into bits as the opponent screamed in celebration. 

she came down to sit with you in the locker room after, but it was in silence. there was nothing to say, and nothing to be said. there were tears streaming down your face, dripping onto the floor. your vision was obscured by the tears, and you would have lost yourself if not for the hand that was holding your own, firm, steadfast. somewhere along the line, she was kissing you, then slowly pushing for you to get up, and bringing you to her dorm. you didn’t really remember anything more after that, busy curling into a ball and crying yourself to sleep afterwards.

when she woke you again to accompany her to steve’s party, you felt almost bad that the ringing in your ears hadn’t gone away, and so had your misery from the match earlier. but natasha needed a ride, and you weren’t going to let her drive back later if she had been drinking for the night. 

– 

you encouraged natasha to mingle around at the party, and to not worry about you, as you stuck around your few friends for a bit. she was unsure, but you were firm, and soon enough, she too had disappeared into the crowd.

your eyes never left her after you found her again, though, leaning back into a pillar as your friend sam went on and on about his own matches so far. you didn’t have the heart, or energy, to tell him that tennis was the last thing you wanted to talk about right then. 

she was by the birthday boy, his arm slung around her waist as the both of them guzzled down cups and cups of spiked punch. their circle was closely-knit, you had always known this, but somehow, the lingering touches, and his hand slowly travelling up and down her back, was ticking you off this time. you had almost half a mind to ask steve what he thought he was doing, but you knew natasha would get embarrassed, and upset. you knew you already made her upset enough today. 

but then, sam quipped, “they’ve been awfully close lately, haven’t they?”

he must have forgotten he was talking to natasha’s girlfriend, of all people, as he continued, ��steve’s on a winning streak recently. on track to become valedictorian, potentially getting drafted by the top teams next season, it’s only a matter of time before he wants someone by his side to share it with too, huh?”

“...right.”

“you know how natasha likes winners,” he hit your elbow playfully, breath reeking of alcohol and other illegal substances, “she just loves the game. i bet that’s how you got her to fall for you too.”

“not my good looks, or horrible attitude to anything outside of tennis?” you tore your eyes away from natasha for a moment to glare at sam. he chuckled. 

“i’m just saying, better to keep your girl by your side, future federer.” he disappeared shortly after, and when you found natasha again, she was laughing and putting her head on steve’s shoulder. 

instead of feeling angry this time, you were dejected, and a little bit ashamed. of course. natasha liked winners. and you certainly weren’t one anymore. 

you bit back a harsh breath, and went outside to get some fresh air when steve stole a glance at her that was far too intimate to be one of merely friends. you should have known. if she wasn’t winning with you, she was winning with someone else, somewhere else. 

that night, for the first time in your career, and relationship, you thought about retiring.

– 

but when the competition season rolled around, and the WTAs approaching, you had managed to pull yourself up in the rankings enough to secure a spot at a challengers’ round to hopefully beat princeton and start a domino effect that could lead you to participating in a grand slam. 

natasha was walking beside you, struggling to keep up as she checked your schedule haphazardly. “the princeton girl, she’s on the other side of the roster. i doubt the two of you would be playing each other unless she reaches the finals too. which…at this point…”

you didn’t want to know if she meant that you wouldn’t stand a chance of reaching the finals, or that the princeton champion would be knocked out early. you were afraid you knew the answer. 

steve had dropped her off at the stadium when you went outside to pick her up, his smug smile as he waved her goodbye, and his eyes following yours, making you want to reach over inside the car and beating him with your racket. you had to arrive earlier to discuss strategy with your coaches, and while you were more than willing to pay for natasha’s ride in, she had mentioned that steve would be dropping her off. she sounded almost excited, so you dropped the topic and went back to your practice. like you have been doing for the past few months. 

turns out it wasn’t so hard to succeed, and win matches, when you were more or less resigned to your fate that nobody was ever going to expect anything more of you from your streak of losses all those matches ago, and you had effectively lost the love of your life to some football player who kept winning, and winning. 

you were at a challenger’s round this time, so you didn't need to worry. you won, and won, and won a little bit more. 

–

thwock. right over the net. the opponent misses and falls to her knees.

a serve that would have made williams roar in awe. thwock.

last one. the set was done if you landed this one. thwock. 

the ball landed inside the court, right by the opponent’s feet. and you advanced to the finals. 

you remembered natasha rushing down, not even waiting until you entered the locker room. she was running, running, and jumping into your arms, kissing you like her life depended on it. you spun her around, giving her a smug smile, trying to hide a bleeding heart that knew she too, was surprised that you ever stood a chance of winning. 

the crowd roared behind you. people were liking you again. but you had never felt worse. 

–

it turned out that the princeton champion had advanced to the finals, and would be playing against you, after all. there was no surprise for her, but certainly a surprise for you, as the newscasters and fans had aptly put, a grand shocker. they had all thought you had seen your glory days over. 

natasha caught you watching the latest telecast from the hotel’s television, gaze zeroed in on the anchor who was comparing your statistics over the last few games. almost perfect scores. leaving opponents with loves in sets. behind her, were the students of your college, decked out in the colour of the university and your face and initials printed on their shirts, caps, flags. all of it. they had never looked more proud. the college had even rolled out a banner in your name, in lieu of the upcoming finals. you knew natasha enjoyed all of it more than you did. 

when it came to the broadcast from princeton, the college’s president had come to give a special interview. he mentioned that he never doubted his champion from the start, unlike what your college had to go through with you. you found yourself wanting to spit at the television. 

but from behind, the sound of running water from the shower had stopped, and she had come out, in a robe and her wet hair in a towel. she saw the glazed look in your eyes, and promptly picked up the remote to shut the programme off. 

she settled into the spot beside you, nuzzling into your comfort. she had to pull your own arms off of the couch to wrap around her. you thought she must have known. she couldn’t be so stupid. she knew that you knew about her, and what she had always liked. 

but then you remembered, beyond the resentment, and grief, of the past few months, of just what she had been through with you. when you lost your very first match in college, natasha had been your friend, still. she was dating the captain of the basketball team, you remembered, but she had gone with you afterwards to walk the long way home, encouraging you and telling you that it would get better. it always would. you only half-believed her.

but then, you won. and won, and won, and won. by the tenth streak of winning, natasha had broken up with said boyfriend, and began hanging around your dorm, the tennis courts, even the cafeterias more often. she went where you went, showed up to most of your games, was the loudest one in the crowd when you secured sets. she would wait for you after your mini celebratory sessions with your teammates, and fans, and friends, all for a moment alone with you. then, she would bring you out for drinks, for dinners, sometimes the occasional walk down memory lane to her dorm. she was kind, she made you laugh, and you were on a streak. so what was there stopping you? 

you fell for her just as easily as you fell in love with winning.

to your surprise, she stuck around when you lost a few matches along the way, never letting it phase her, or you. to everyone else’s surprise, she stuck around when you twisted your ankle in your second year of playing. she had left a pattern in her wake, you see, of leaving all of her past lovers when the going got tough, or when they had simply stopped winning. it was inevitable, you thought. but no, not this time. when you fell to your knees during that tournament, screaming in agony as your ankle felt like it was folding in on itself, she was there. she was right beside the medical officer, holding you up as he inspected the injury, face looking even more panicked than yours as they wheeled you off to the hospital. 

she was there, as they wheeled you in for surgery, and wheeled you out to recover. she never left, even when the doctors told you it would take months to recover, let alone get back to playing on your level. she helped you recover, was the driving force in your physical therapy success, even became the sole reason that you returned to playing so quickly after your injury. you hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, much less lose her at all. you were too afraid of the possibility of her becoming someone else’s because of your failure in your sport.

natasha stayed through your losing streak. she never got mad, or lost her patience, with you. it had been three years now, with her. she had never lasted in a relationship so long, so had you. she had talked about getting married before, right after college, to which you had entertained, but still never gotten the full grasp of. how could she talk about marrying you, with such a reputation that preceded her? what if you had lost, would she have run off before the altar?

what if you lost tomorrow? you looked at her again, this time, and she was on her phone. she was texting your friends to make sure they came for your match tomorrow. you felt horrible.

“nat.”

she looked up. “yes?”

“tell me it doesn’t matter.” 

natasha sat up this time, her hand holding yours. she looked confused. “what doesn’t matter?” “whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

her face remained unchanged for a moment, but at the quiver of your lip, and the coldness in your hands, she broke her composure. she shook her head slowly, gaze steely. “no.”

“why not?” it was your turn to harden the look on your face. “why won’t you tell me at least that?”

“because,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “you’re the professional. you’ll tell me whether it matters or not.”

you sat up as well. “i just want to know that you’ll love me…no matter what…whether i win or lose tomorrow.”

natasha’s eyes suddenly couldn’t meet yours. she looked down, at your shirt, then away, but never back at you. you pleaded, “natasha, please.”

“no,” she remained firm, “no. i won’t tell you that, because i know you’ll beat her. you’ll win tomorrow. and you’ll go to the grand slams, you’ll be the best tennis player that’s ever played in them, and you’re going to win. every. single. one. of. them.”

“and what if i don’t? not even the grand slams, not even tomorrow? what if i come in second again, after all this time?” 

you were growing desperate, and she was growing distant. you suddenly thought that you would have done anything, absolutely anything then, for her to tell you what you wanted to hear. to tell you that she would love you no matter if you won or lost.

natasha watched as you dropped to your knees in front of her, eyes already teary. your hands scrambled to hold her shirt, her waist, any part of her. she held them back, but to stop you from reaching further. then, she held your face again, but this time, it was you that was begging for her. you looked downright pitiful.

she wiped the stray tear off your cheek. she knew what she was going to say would either make or destroy you. “i’ll tell you this instead.”

“please.”

“baby, if you lose the match tomorrow, i’m leaving you. for good.”

– 

thwock. thwock. thwock. 

princeton parried, the ball is sent to the line. you return it with ease. princeton flicks back, you work twice as hard to send it over.

your moves were clean, cleaner than ever before, aided by a brain filled with rage and a heart filled with fear. 

princeton served, out. you served, in. the advantage stood, and the crowd stood to cheer. princeton hit back, you hit harder. it was a game both colleges hadn’t seen in decades. there were talks of both of you dominating the grand slams, even possibly working together, even being the next best duo to ever hit the sport. 

break point. the ball whizzes. and finally…after all the pain, the fear, the lost matches and the weight of the world on your shoulders, it was over. 

you weren’t quick enough. princeton won. 

a/n: i just love pathetic, pitiful characters who are down so bad for natasha romanoff, is that so wrong?

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #tennis player! reader #challengers

[itsmealaiah]

"good enough"

TW: p in v sex, profanity, porn recording, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, sex tape, doggystyle fucking

my mum is making some beans and they stanking 🤢

Request: 2007 bill tells the reader that if they are comfortable doing the position doggystyle for the first time with the reader, and bill records it while fucking the reader.

Rating: mature themes incoming, mdni!

WC: 0.8k

Making a sex tape was not on your bingo card for this year, but for bill? you bet your ass it was.

You however, didn't really like the idea of your intimate time with bill being recorded. It didn't seem very appealing, you liked the privacy you had behind closed doors.

bill and you were lying on your bed together, watching a show as his arms were wrapped around your waist, your back laid on his chest as his thumbs drew small circles on your skin, drawing out the stress of your day.

he brought his arms up to your breasts, testing the waters between loving and lustful. He was trying to get you in the mood, so it'd be easier to ask you.

"billy? what're you doing?" you asked, your head tilting down, seeing his hands right below your boobs.

he cursed under his breath, you could read him like an open book. this wasn't going to be as easy as he would've liked.

"nothing honey, just getting comfortable" he lied through his teeth, kissing your shoulder as you nodded. "okay" you smiled.

how was he going to convince you? you weren't easy to trick in the slightest, so he knew he had to be very subtle.

he kissed your neck, hands caressing your boobs as you moaned. jackpot.

"you can scream as loud as you want honey, just gotta do a little something for me first" he had you where he wanted.

"wha-what's that?" "let me record it baby, it'll be good for both of us." he asked sweetly, flipping you over so you were beneath him, arms surrounding your head as he towered over you.

"i-i don't know" you murmured, but he shushed you. "i promise, i'll make you feel so good honey" he begged, kissing your lips softly.

"i gue-guess" you shrugged. he smiled, lifting up your arms. "was that so hard?" he asked sweetly, kissing your neck.

he slipped off your shirt, your perky boobs now exposed as he gently licked the bud, swirling it around his tongue as you whined. "fuc-fuck" your eyes were already reeling, pussy getting wetter for him as he continued the act, before moving his head down. he kissed your clit gently, and stood up, shoving his pants and boxers down, grabbing his camera.

he got back onto the bed, and quickly tore down your shorts and panties, grinning at your wet folds.

"ready baby? it's just you and me, no one else is gonna see, i promise" he assured you, putting all your fears to bed with this one statement.

he turned on the camera app, positioning his cock up to your hole as he focused the screen on it.

must've been some weird-ass kink of his. you didn't like it, but you wanted to make him happy. you wanted to cum, so you let him do his thing. he pushed in with a gasp from you, hips thrusting back and forth as his penis entered and left you.

"ohmyfuckinggod!" you squealed, legs wrapping around his waist as he pounded relentlessy into your messy cunt. "that's it - ohh - that's a good girl, showing me how good you are."

he rubbed your clit harshly, making your hips jerk up as you moaned, his camera now focused on your boobs as they bounced all around, his free hand coming to roll one between his fingers.

your face was even better, eyes directly lying on your gaping mouth, showing how good he was fucking you. he pointed the camera upwards, seeing your face and eyes, clearly shut in bliss.

who knew you were such a slut? he usually had his head in the curve of your neck as his hips met yours, but this time was better, a thousand times better.

he was now obsessed with this side of you, and leaned into it. "gonna cum on this cock soon babygirl? gonna make me feel good?" "yesyesyesyes!" your moans were now babbles, brain turned to mush from the harsh fucking as you took it.

this video was going to be so good, especially when he was on tour.

"go on, be a pretty little angel" he commanded, teasing your clit more as you screamed, camera capturing every bit of it as you came, releasing on his cock. he thrust deeper, seeking his own release, hitting that gummy spot in you as your walls gripped him, his balls now heavy as he groaned, fucking his cum deeper into you.

he pulled out, panting and flipped to the side, looking at the recording time. 2:37.

not bad.

just enough time he needs to cum on his own.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @itsangelll @tomssexdoll @charliesgoodboy @kqulitzlvr @tomkaulitzloverr @roseroseluvrr @tomkaulitzsjuicyballs

Comment to be tagged!

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz imagine #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader smut #bill kaulitz x you #billskeis #itsmealaiah

[lvndrdaaze]

NSFW alphabet B, L and P for Wriothesely? 👀👀

sorry these took so long, i have an exam coming up in a couple of weeks and i had to finish my cases this week so i haven't had much time to write ;;-;; these are all kinda longer than i was expecting tho so i hope that makes up for it <333

(fem!reader, NSFW so no minors!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Wriothesley knows he's attractive, and is aware that a lot of people either envy or lust after his physique, though he doesn't like to admit it. He'll brush off compliments with a vague hint of a smile and ignore the way passersby drool over his bulky form from a distance, but he does secretly love the way his arms look around your body. Even when you're simply cuddling, the sight of you nuzzling into his arm and pressing your cheek against the firm muscle makes strange heat blossom in his chest. He appreciates the fact that he's strong enough to pick you up and carry you around, and he'll even get a little flustered if you touch his biceps and ask him to flex for you. Seeing you giggle bashfully over his muscles is far more flattering than the admiring stare of a hundred strangers.

On you, there's no denying that Wriothesley is an ass man. He loves everything about it; when you're lying on your stomach and he can trace the curve of your ass into the dip of your lower back with his palms, when you're getting dressed (or undressed) and he gets to see your lacy underwear clinging to the swell of your cheeks, when you're bent over and he can see the perfect shape of your ass along with your wet cunt with lips parted between your thighs, everything about your ass just drives him wild. He loves fucking you from behind to watch it ripple with every thrust and spank he delivers. Sometimes, when he's eating you out from behind, he'll bite at the pert muscle harshly, feeling his length throb at the sight of his teeth marks imprinted into the skin there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wriothesley is a traditional guy for the most part, and generally prefers taking you in a bed. It's more comfortable and gives you plenty of space to sprawl out, and he adores the way you look laying against the sheets. With your hair fanned out in a halo around your head and wide, eager eyes staring up at him whilst he hovers over you teasingly, he thinks you look like an angel, far purer than the life he's known so far.

However, Wriothesley also isn't particularly fussy about where he gets to sink himself into you. He'll press you against a wall when he's desperate and dip his fingers into your wet pussy before lifting your knee and replacing his fingers with his thick cock with a groan of relief. He'll invite himself to join you in the shower, using the soap as an excuse to run his rough palms all over your body until you're keening and pressing yourself against his body underneath the hot water. He'll bend you over the kitchen counter in your home and pull your hair until your back arches into the perfect position for him to pound into your tight hole, nudging his tip against the spongy spot inside you that makes you sing for him. Simply put, to him, any location is good, but the bed is better.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Wriothesley can go for either a rough fuck session or a slower, more passionate lovemaking session, it all depends on his mood.

When he's had a long day with unruly prisoners and excessive paperwork, he likes to release that tension with a harsh fuck that doesn't last long but leaves you spent nonetheless. He bends you over and plunges into you as deep as he can go, using his secure grip on your hips to pull you back against him and bounce your ass against his pelvis whilst his fingers press faint bruises into the plush of your hips. Feeling you clenching around him in time with his brutal thrusts easily clears Wriothesley's mind of whatever had gotten him worked up into that state.

On the other hand, after a romantic date on the surface or even in his office, when his emotions are running high and just the sight of your smile is enough to make his cock twitch, he prefers to take his time and savour your body. These are the times that he spends ages between your legs, using his fingers and tongue in sync to have your cunt dripping onto the bedsheets for him. Then, once he's satisfied that the taste of you will remain on his lips for a while, he'll drape himself over you and rock his hips so carefully, as though he thinks you'll break if he goes any harder. He connects his lips with yours in a passionate kiss and spills his seed into you with a moan that almost sounds like a whine, far more desperate than any sound you've heard him make before, as the emotions of being connected to you like this overwhelm him.

Feel free to request more NSFW/SFW alphabet headcanons! More info in my pinned post ^-^

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley x reader headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader headcanons #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader

[brunnerasposts]

"She"

S.H. x Female Reader

Summary: All while you're getting ready for a surprise date, Steve is preparing to tell you for the first time that he loves you.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of st2-4, bit of a clumsy reader, fluff, dating, mentions of nudity, swearing, Steve just admiring you honestly

Additional Note: Once again, it has been a hot minute since I've written any fanfiction of any kind so please excuse my poor writing 🥲

If there was anything that Steve Harrington had a soft spot for, it was watching you get ready.

From the way you delicately dragged the mascara wand up your eyelashes to the way you always seemed to hum the same melody while spritzing your neck with perfume, it captured his heart every damn time.

This time, in particular, he was antsier. His leg bounced as he sat on your bed, keeping his hands busy by holding onto one of the stuffed animals you kept on your bed. This was a big day for him. For the both of you, though you didn't know it yet.

While you were showering, Steve spent the time rehearsing the scene in his head. He'd take you home after an incredible day, give you a kiss goodnight after walking you to your door like any gentleman would, and just say it. The three words he'd been itching to say anytime he looks at you.

He loved you.

How could he not? You were, in so many ways, perfect for him. Whenever you entered the room, his eyes were always on you. Because of this, he could read you like an open book. He knew that when your eyes would continuously shift around that you were overwhelmed or that when you would chip your nail polish, you were lost in thought. He knew that if he kissed right behind your ear you'd shriek and laugh as you were most sensitive there.

He knew your passions and your hobbies, and you both had already discussed the possible future together. He remembered the way you flushed at the idea of having children together, six no less. To his surprise, you weren't against it and he felt himself falling for you all over again.

"Stevie," You whined as you entered the room, a towel wrapped up on your head and another wrapped around your body. The sight made his breath hitch and his cheeks warm at the sudden sight of you.

God, he wanted to say it so badly.

Swallowing harshly, he found his words. "Yes?" His eyes shifted downward as you raised your leg slightly. A streak of blood was prominent on your calf, causing him to stand from the bed instantly.

"Oh, honey, you've got to be careful with your legs," He frowned, leading you over to your vanity so you could sit and let him take care of you. He kneeled in front of you, his fingers grazing the back of your calf as he raised your leg ever so slightly. You flushed from the position he was in.

"You still have those band-aids I gave you?" He asked as you removed the towel from your damp head of hair before passing it to him.

"Mhm," You turned towards your vanity, opening the middle drawer to pull out the cardboard box. "How many are in there?" He asked as you pulled a sealed band-aid out from the carton. Eyes scanning the contents of the box, you counted around fourteen.

"I'm good on band-aids," You confirmed, handing him the band-aid before returning the box to your drawer.

"Promise?" He asked, using the wet end of the towel to gently wipe away the drying blood on your leg. "Promise." You repeated as he unwrapped the band-aid.

With a soft grin, Steve dried your leg before carefully placing the bandage over the cut. "Does this happen often?" He asked, smoothing out the creases from the band-aid. Really he just wanted an excuse to be close to you, but he wasn't going to tell you that.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess so. I don't mean for it to happen. I just get distracted, I guess." Steve arched an eyebrow. "What distracted you in the shower?" He asked, noting the pout that was forming.

"My boyfriend won't tell me where we're going!" Steve couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, honey, but it's a secret. Just know it's a date." He said as he placed a gentle kiss on your knee before standing. "A surprise date." You reminded him.

"And you know I'm not good with surprises!" You whined and watched Steve as he sat back down on your bed before picking up the teddy bear again.

"I know, but you love them." He teased, causing you to huff before picking up a hair brush.

"Can I guess?"

"You can try," He grinned, now laying on his stomach so he could watch you.

Your eyebrows began to scrunch as you thought about the possibilities. "Rollerskating?" You asked as you started to detangle the ends of your hair. Steve gently shook his head, gazing at you with nothing but adoration.

Picking up the small juice box you had opened earlier, you took the straw between your lips and began to drink what was left of it. "Hm, oh! A picnic?" You guess again, Steve once again shaking his head. "Two strikes. You get one final guess before we get to the car. Are you sure you want to use it now?" He asked, seeing the panic enter your eyes.

"No, I need to think for a while." You admitted, picking up your hair brush again before continuing to contain your already drying hair. "I used my new soap that you got me," your voice carried easily across the room. "Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, standing from the bed. "Mhm, the lemongrass scented one." You stood from the vanity, making your way over to sit beside Steve. He sat up quickly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your neck and bare shoulder.

A soft hum escaped your lips, followed by a yawn. "You smell like lemongrass and sleep." He admitted, making you laugh. "Sleep? I dont think that's a scent, Steve." You told him, leaning your head against his as he rested his chin on you. "Of course it is. I just made it up." He grinned, causing you to shake your head at his playful manner.

"Gotta finish getting ready." You whispered, causing him to whine and wrap you up in his arms. "Steve—!" You yelped as he pulled you down onto the bed, making you squeal as he began to smother your face with kisses. "No, no, Steve!" You laughed, him finding your most sensitive places. He knew just where you were ticklish.

"I'm not doing anything, hon." He said with a cheesy grin. "Yes you are! Steve," You continued to laugh, your breathing becoming rapid as you couldnt catch your breath. "Whats the password?" He asked, fingers delicately moving up and down your rib cage. You writhed underneath him, eyes teary from laughing so hard. "Stevie," You gasped out, his fingers coming to a slow halt.

"Not fair. You know I can't resist that nickname." He hummed, gazing down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your laugh had to be his favorite sound. There was never a day he didn't make you laugh. Anytime you were happy, he found himself suddenly in a better mood. Your smile had that effect on him. Your laugh had it too. But most importantly, you had that effect.

Once you had caught your breath, you simply laid with him. "Gonna let me get dressed now?" You whispered, looking up at him as your own fingers began to trace him. You focused on each mole, practically playing connect the dots on his arms. Steve chuckled a little. "I can't tell if you actually want to get ready," He joked, noticing that you weren't even budging. Though the moment he said that, you moved.

"I do! You keep distracting me," You pouted a little, though it was a playful one. You made your way over to your dresser, opening a drawer. "Does it matter what kind of undergarments I wear?" You asked with an arched brow, causing Steve to chuckle. "Whatever you're most comfortable in, baby." He hummed before grabbing the teddy bear again.

It was from your second date together. Hawkins was hosting its very own carnival in the town square and Steve thought it would be a great date opportunity for you both. He promised he'd win you a prize and ended up with a backseat covered in stuffed animals. Steve wasn't sure what you'd do with them all, so you decided to donate them. However, this teddy bear was your favorite of them all so you kept it. Steve wasn't sure why, so he decided it was time to ask.

"Hon?"

"Hm?" You asked as you put them on. It wasn't anything Steve hadn't seen before so you went back to your vanity to begin drying your hair.

"You never told me why you kept beary." He said, returning his attention to you. You were already looking at him, a soft smile growing.

"He was the first prize you won for me. Thought he deserved to be kept to cherish the memory." You explained, plugging the hairdryer in. Steve's heart practically melted from your words. "Really? I didn't think he meant that much."

"Are you kidding? Stevie, I could tell just how much you wanted to prove to me that you would win him. And it wasn't to try and look cool or something either. I knew you were just trying to make sure I had a good time. But what you didn't understand was that I always have fun when I'm with you. No matter what it is we're doing."

Steve held the plush to his chest now, suddenly overcome with your words.

"I love you."

The room was overcome with immediate silence, quickly followed by the blow dryer slipping from your grasp and landing on your toe. You gasped and instantly shot up from the chair you sat in. "Fuck!" You couldn't help but swear. Steve sprang up from the bed in a sudden panic.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm so so sorry! This is my fault, I shouldn't have—" He huffed a bit before lifting you bridal style and gently sitting you down on your bed. "I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine!" You promised, biting your lip to ease the pain in your foot.

Steve quickly kneeled to inspect your foot, noticing that your toe had really only turned a few shades darker. Hopefully, it wouldn't bruise. "Scale of one to ten?"

"A six." You answered, watching as he further set into panic.

Steve sprinted downstairs, ignoring the questioning looks your parents gave him as he stumbled into the kitchen to grab an ice pack. He then flew back up the stairs, panting as he reached you again. "Here," He said, hands fumbling as he put the ice bag on your foot. "Better?"

"Better." You said, watching him with concern. Noticing that you were staring, Steve asked, "What?" while trying to catch his breath. That is until he saw your lip begin to quiver. "Oh no, no, honey. Please don't cry. I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have startled you like that." He apologized, wiping the tears as they began to fall. Steve cupped your cheeks gently, gazing at you.

"Steve-"

"Oh, princess, look!" He exclaimed, seeing your toe was still no longer the color that it was before. "Let me keep holding the ice here to make sure it doesn't swell, yeah?" He gently pressed, making you wince a little, but your foot was the least of your worries.

"Steve..." You trailed off, hoping to capture his attention this time. "I know, I know, but sometimes you say you're fine when you're not. So, it is my job as your boyfriend to make sure that you are taken care of." He smiled, gently rubbing the back of your calf.

"Steve." You finally said in a tone that was stern enough for him to look up. His eyes were laced with concern, searching yours for any signs of what he did wrong. You smiled softly before shakily cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning forward.

Liking where this was going, Steve met you halfway, lips sealing with yours.

He shifted, cradling your head as the kiss turned more passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. You hummed against his lips, fingers finding their way into his hair which you tugged gently. Steve groaned, his hands beginning to travel...that is until you gently held his wrists.

He parted from the kiss, confused as to why you stopped him. Oh, but he was met with that adorable smile and flushed face he couldn't resist. "Sweetie?" He asked, wondering why you wouldn't let him continue.

You parted your lips, almost hesitant to say what you wanted, but you took a deep breath and held Steve's hands. "I love you too, Steve." You admitted, blinking a little quickly to rid of the tears that were beginning to form.

He stared at you, unsure if he believed what he was hearing. The girl he loved more than anything, the girl he'd die for, the girl he'd kill for...loved him too. Steve began to realize that it didn't matter what he said or where he said it. The only thing that mattered was that you made him happier than he ever thought he could be.

"Steve, please say something."

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. His heart was racing, his palms were a little sweaty, and all he could think about was ways he could say thank you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Why-?" But before you could finish your question, you were being tackled onto the bed in a warm embrace. You squealed in surprise, laughing as you held each other. He kissed all over your face, speaking between kisses. "How did I get so lucky?"

His fingers, once again, found their way to your ribcage, making your legs kick. "Noooo! Steve Harrington, you let me go this instant!" You begged, laughing between words. Steve couldn't help but laugh as well. "Not until I hear those words leave your pretty little mouth again." He grinned mischievously.

"Okay, okay! I love you! I love you! I love you!" You exclaimed, getting louder each time you said it. He finally stopped tickling you, allowing you to catch your breath. "I love you, Steve Harrington." You said more seriously this time, making him grin from ear to ear.

"I love you too, dollface. Now...let's get you ready for our date, yeah?"

The End.

#Spotify #stranger things x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #fluff #harrington #steve

[wildemaven]

dream with me…

You’ve been with Joel for a few years— not in that sense. You met him somewhere between outbreak day and Boston. Smugglers together under the guidance of Tess.

You were both hardened by the same thing— tormented by the fact that you both lost everything that meant the most to you.

The only difference between you both, you harbored feels for a man who would never have the same for you.

It was on a failed smuggling operation that your life moving forward would change forever. You fumbled the job horribly, nearly getting yourself killed by a group of runners.

Joel had to save your ass. Wasted energy and time, Joel told you, costing you both to forfeit the rest of the job and head back empty handed.

You knew you fucked up and there tension that simmered upon arriving back was obvious. You attempted to smooth things over, apologize for your fuck up and promise to make up for the loss in any way possible.

‘I don’t care what you do, you almost got us killed. I’d be fine if we never spoke again’ was Joel said to you before icing you out completely.

Tess tried to convince you to stay. Let everything blow over like it usually does. But you could bear to stay any longer, feeling like a walking hazard to the group. It was only time before you got hurt or worse— someone else would.

Tommy offered you to join him, as he was leaving in the morning to meet up with a group of fireflies heading west. You agreed, asking him to not tell anyone that you were leaving.

You took one last look at what had been home for you since arriving in Boston. Glancing at Joel’s closed door briefly, then slipping out undetected, before the sun even had a chance to shine over the QZ.

‘Tommy!!’

The whole town was stunned by the commotion. Tommy and a newcomer’s reunion on display for everyone to witness. Only to you this wasn’t a stranger.

You watched from behind a wall of people, happy to see the two brothers together again. It’s the first time you’d ever seen Joel smile in all the time you had known him.

Silently, you retreat from the crowd and excitement, hoping to remain undetected for the time being.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel was made aware of your presence immediately. Tommy giving him and the young girl that arrived with him a tour of the fenced in grounds, making sure to point out the home you had been residing in since joining the community.

It’s only a matter of time before your paths cross, but you keep your distance, quick steps and redirection, avoiding any and all interactions with Joel Miller.

One evening you’re making your way home from dinner with friends, knowing you had plenty of time before Joel would be joining Tommy and Maria in the same spot. The air cool and crisp as the sun descended behind the Jackson mountains.

Your name being called out by a familiar voice stops you in your tracks. Your heart nearly beats out of your chest listening to the crunch of gravel beneath his boots as he walks closer.

‘Jus’ wanted to come say hi ‘n see how you been. Seen you around here ‘n there. Seems like you’ve been avoidin’ me though.’

You turn to face him fully. His a much older version of himself. Greyed and still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

‘I’m fine, Joel. Just makin’ sure I keep up my end of the bargain— with never speakin’ again and all.’

That’s all you manage to get out before you turn and head up the path to your home and closing the door behind you.

Anywho. This was a dream I had last night and it’s been bouncing around my noggin most of the day. Of course it would end on a cliffhanger like that too.

#my dreams be angsty #maybe it will pick up where it left off tonight #Joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal

[equinelifecountry]

Drowning

Warning: depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, anxiety. torcher, blood (If missed anything lmk)

Description: realizing that she was never enough for him and deciding the world might just be better without her in it

part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Staring up at the ceiling I let out a long groan I swear it is way too early in the morning that no one else would be up at this time sliding the covers off I head over to the bathroom to clean myself up last night was the same thing like every other night just filled with nightmares, tossing and turning it felt like I was going to go through the same pain has I did all those years ago and the emotional pain from more recent things. I would think the pain would have at least eased but it feels like I'm drowning, and no one is there to pull me up before I take the final breath before darkness takes over.

After cleaning up I just threw on a change of comfortable clothes since after the night I had don't not have the energy to go to training today or to deal with everyone. Walking out of my room down the hall making my way to the kitchen. Peaking my head through the door just to make sure no one else was have an early breakfast letting out the breath I was holding I made my way to the counter and asking the house of wind for a cup and coffee and some chocolate chip blueberry pancakes watching has the food and drink appear in front of my eyes I smile I always thought the house was amazing "thank you" I told the house and reached and took a drink of the coffee and I bite of my pancake.

Half way through my plate of pancakes I seen a shadow glide across the floor I frozen in my place "go back to you owner" I whispered the shadow stopped the came towards me wrapping its self around my leg then it seemed like it was just staring at me then it took off to the hall I let out a sign and then I couldn't breathe cause in the corner eye I seen the one person I did not want to run into down here. Azriel stepped in the kitchen looking, watching me "y/n" some of his shadows left his side and made their way over to me wrapping themselves around my legs i took a bite of my pancake "Azriel..." I put the rest of the pancake back down on the plate not feeling so hungry anymore he watched my every move bouncing from my face to the shadows that are now on my legs making themselves comfortable. "You are up early?" another cup of coffee appeared on the counter and Azriel reached out and grabbed it he looked back up at me and took a drink I just glanced at him and nodded looking back down at the shadows.

Azriel gave a long sign "you still like those types of pancakes?" I looked up at him then at the plate then at him again "uh yes..." he gave one of his small smirks "I remember when you first had a pancake for the first time." I locked eyes with him "yeah well that was a long time ago... but I guess some things don't change." I looked away and jumped off the counter Azriel continued to watch my movements "You coming to training today?" he stepped half in front of me "no I think I'm going to set this one out, I had a long day yesterday" I paused "I just need some rest." he just gave a small nod I stepped to the side of him to end back to my room I was bout towards the door "y/n" Azriel softly said I stopped and half turned towards him "what happened?" he faced me completely searching my face for what I do not know I just looked at him through the corner of my eye "Everything has happened." i seen hurt or confused I do not know show across Azriel face then turned and left him standing there alone.

#acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x reader angst #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #sarah j maas #azriel fanfic

[babyhatesreality]

The Book was Better

Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: SFW Agere (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name used sparingly, pet names/nicknames, fear of disappointment, a little language, fluff (I mean really do you expect anything less from me? :D)

PLEASE NOTE- THIS STORY IS AGERE AND SFW, THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS ONTO ANY SITE. Likes, comments, and reblogs deeply appreciated! 

A/N- for @asittwas, who just gave me the loveliest compliment and reblog. Thank you darling!! To all of you- sorry to be gone so long. Life hopefully is going to ease up for a while.

"Alright puppy, you ready?" Steve said, grinning as he finished tying your shoes.

"YES!" you screamed with joy, flinging yourself forward into his arms. He laughed and tossed you in the air, before bringing you into his chest and nuzzling your cheek lovingly. "Can we please go now pleeeeease?"

"Yup, it's go time! Let's get Daddy and head out."

You wriggled with excitement. You all were going to the zoo today! The day was finally here! They'd been hyping you up for a while over it- not that you needed the help getting excited- and you were nearly exploding for joy, hence Papa carrying you to find Daddy. If he put you down, you were likely to run roughly 9000 laps around the apartment just on adrenaline alone. And while chasing you was a good workout for the both of them, Steve and Bucky had agreed to keep your energy reserved for the zoo.

"What animals are you most excited to see today, little one?" Steve asked, bouncing you playfully as you made your way together to the bedroom. They had asked you the same question every day for the past two weeks, and you had a different answer every time.

You tapped your fingers against your lips, thinking. "Ummmm..." you mumbled as you thought hard. "Da tigers, and da sheep, and...and..." Steve pinched his lips together in amusement at this new combo and waited for you to finish your thought, "....and the DRAGONS!"

Well. That was an entirely new one.

Steve carefully cleared his throat, wanting to get ahead of this now. "Baby," he said gently, slowing down his pace a bit. You frowned and looked down at his feet, speaking before he could gather his thoughts and patting him hard on the shoulder.

"Papa, go faster!"

"Baby, listen-"

"Go faster to Daddy!! Now!!!"

"Hey," Steve said sternly, stopping immediately. You bit your lip, looking contrite. "Are you allowed to talk to me that way?"

"I sorry," you said, abashed. "I excited."

Steve smiled gently and gave you a kiss on the temple in forgiveness as he resumed his journey. "I know you're excited. But I need you to listen right now and be a good girl. Understood?"

"Okay, Papa!"

"Good girl. So...so there will be lots of fun animals at the zoo today, and we'll see them all, okay?"

"Okay!"

"But there might not be all the animals you want. Sometimes that happens."

"But dat's where dey live. In da ZOO. Dey gonna be dere."

"I know, honey," he said patiently, praying that this didn't go off the rails. They had been reading the Hobbit to you, and you had become obsessed with the characters, especially Smaug. He was the ultimate villain in all your playacting recently. Steve and Bucky tried so hard not to destroy your make believe world, but he also didn't want you to get crushed when you didn't see anything close to the dragon in your mind today. "We'll see all the animals that live at the zoo. But some animals don't live at the zoo."

"I know! Dey live all over the world and den some live at the zoo."

"Right. So the zoo doesn't have all the animals in the world. But that doesn't mean that we're not going to have lots of fun, right?"

"Right!"

"Right. So if an animal isn't there, then that's okay, right? Because we're still gonna have fun."

"Yup!"

"Okay, then!" Steve said, knowing he had laid the ground work to help you if you mentioned "dragons" again, and feeling pretty good about it. You two walked into the bedroom just as Bucky was pulling on a baseball cap. You squealed in delight, leaning forward out of Steve's arms towards Bucky. He spun around and effortlessly caught you, giving you a huge kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, Trouble, you ready?" he asked as Steve retrieved his own ballcap. "You ready to see all the animals?"

"Yeah! We gonna see DRAGONS!"

Steve's nervous gaze swung to Bucky's face. Bucky was looking at you impassively, clearly in thought. He turned and smiled gently, and Steve's heart stopped racing for a moment. Surely Bucky would help and say the right thing to you.

"Well, you never know at the zoo," Bucky said with a shrug and a grin. You cheered loudly. He chuckled at the look of astonished betrayal on his husband's face as you all headed out the door.

*******************************************************

It became clear to the both of them that the idea of dragons had taken hold of your little mind and was not letting up. The entire way there, you chatted animatedly about how when you saw the dragon, Papa and Daddy could pretend to be the knights and the kings and the elves and the hobbits from Daddy's book and save you- the beautiful princess- from certain death and then you- who also apparently wielded a convenient bow and arrow- would save all the animals in the zoo and become the Princess of New York City.

When you all went through the front gates, there was a blessed time when they thought they might be off the hook from this whole dragon thing. All the sights captured and held your attention. You were instantly mesmerized by the beautiful tigers, you laughed at the silly monkeys, you followed the paths of the birds and the peacocks being very careful not to scare them, and your eyes had taken on a wonderous look when you actually got to feed a giraffe. The petting zoo part had been a huge hit. They were almost home free, thinking about lunch as you skipped in between them down the path, holding both their hands.

"Can we see da dragons now?" you asked politely out of the blue, after about three hours of not mentioning it once. Steve shot Bucky a nervous look.

"Well, Baby, remember how I said that some animals don't live in zoos?" Steve said carefully

"Yeah, but-"

"Well, love, dragons don't do well in zoos. And this zoo doesn't have any dragons."

"Yes dey-"

"No, no they don't. But we can go see other animals and keep having fun, right?"

"Go see da dragons!"

"There's no dragons to see here, baby. We could go look at the zebras instead, how would you like that?"

You shook your head, planting your feet, which caused them both to stop. You pointed to a sign on the left, letting go of Bucky's hand.

"See? Da dragons is DERE!" you said triumphantly. "I see da word!!" They turned and looked. The sign that you were impetuously pointing to listed reptiles, tortoises, and...Komodo dragons. "See? Dragons!" You snatched Bucky's hand again, pulling them in that direction. "We gotta go!" you hollered joyfully, yanking your daddies as hard as you could to follow you.

"She must have recognized the word from looking at the book," Steve murmured to Bucky as he let you drag him towards the enclosure. "Do you think she's going to be upset when...when she sees it?"

"Only one way to find out," Bucky said, failing to suppress his grin at your stubbornness and determination, and trotting willingly with you. Steve sighed, exasperated, internally grumbling and swearing to himself that if you had a meltdown it was all going to be Bucky's fault.

Once you all got closer, you excitedly asked Bucky to pick you up in a hushed voice, knowing that dragons could hear intruders into their caves. You wanted a better view for your first time seeing a live dragon.

Steve watched your face very carefully as the three of you approached the large viewing area. He watched as your brow wrinkled in confusion. He heard you whisper to Bucky.

"Where is da treasure?"

Bucky, to his credit, answered quickly, having worked on his game plan all along. "Probably inside," he whispered back. "You know, so the other dragons and zoo people don't steal it. He's got it hidden extra extra good."

"Dat makes sense," you said, nodding wisely. You craned your neck, holding tightly onto Bucky as he tried to hold in a snicker. "How's come we see outsides and not a cave like da book?" was your next question.

"Because we don't want to go into the cave and get burned up, do we?"

"OH! No, don't want dat."

"I didn't think you did."

"But den how's he gonna come out?" You pointed to the opening in the rock. "Is too small."

Bucky was saved by a lizard in that moment. He didn't have a good answer to that one, but luckily the Komodo dragon chose to make his appearance right then. Both Steve and Bucky turned their faces to watch you as your jaw dropped in utter astonishment. The Komodo dragon took his sweet time stepping out of the enclosure, his long tongue flicking the air around him.

"What's he doing?" you asked in an awed voice.

"He's got the scent of something," Bucky whispered back, actually knowing the real answer here. "He senses and tastes something in the air and he's trying to figure out what it is."

"Ohhhhh," you breathed in wonder. Your eyes took in every inch of that Komodo dragon, your little body jolting with surprise or glee anytime the lizard moved. After about three minutes of you being nearly catatonic with joy at finally seeing a dragon, you turned to Bucky again, confusion crossing your face.

"Is bigger in da book," you commented as you tried to figure out why this dragon was so small.

Bucky couldn't help the snort of laughter at that moment, but as your little frown deepened just a bit, he passed it off as a cough then turned very seriously to you. "This must be a baby dragon," he explained in a lofty voice that was clearly supposed to be a stab at a scholarly approach. "A big dragon probably wouldn't agree to live at the zoo."

"But, den where is his daddy dragon? Is he gonna come back?" you asked anxiously.

"Oh yeah, of course," Bucky said without missing a beat. Steve suppressed a smile, knowing that NOW Bucky was mentally sweating bullets. Then, damn it all, Bucky once again dug himself out of the hole. "You know what? This is probably a distraction," Bucky whispered conspiratorially to you.

"Distra...districta...a what?"

"A distraction. The daddy dragon is guarding the real treasure, while the baby dragon makes everyone come look at him because he's so cute and sweet. No one will think to go looking for their treasure because the baby dragon distracts them!"

"Dat is so SMART!" you gasped in agreed. "Smart dragons! Like da books!!"

"Yup, exactly like the books."

You looked back at the Komodo dragon, smiling ear to ear, then turned back to both your daddies.

"Da book was better," you declared happily, then nodded sagely as if the matter was now closed. "Can we go see zebras?"

You all had a delightful rest of the day at the zoo, seeing all the animals, and that night you cheerfully went to bed without a fuss at the promise of a story with your daddies starring as the knights of New York who saved you from the dragon.

And for the rest of your lives, occasionally Steve or Bucky would turn to each other and quietly say "Eh, the book was better," making the each other laugh to the point of joyful tears.

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy stucky #daddy stucky x little reader

[yuesya]

Sweet notes of music drift into the nighttime air, the song of a lyre accompanied by the clear notes of a young voice.

Ventus smiles broadly, fingers plucking the strings of his own lyre in harmony to his friend’s song.

The life of a bard is not a particularly affluent one. But luckily for them, Ventus has made many friends in all walks of life within the walls of Mondstadt… including talented craftsmen who happened to be highly skilled with woodwork. They had only been all too happy to indulge Ventus’ unusual request of making a miniature-sized lyre for his miniature-sized friend.

“How was that, Ventus? How did I do this time?” A white blur zips towards him, eagerly spinning around him a few times before stopping to hover directly in front of his face. Beneath the white hood, it’s difficult to make out distinct features, or even a face at all, but the small wind spirit’s buoyant enthusiasm is clear to identify from his voice alone.

Ventus smiles and praises, “That was great! You’re getting a lot better with the lyre now, Little Breeze.”

“Yay!” The nameless wind spirit cheers, with a small tinkling laughter that’s filled with genuine delight. He twirls in the air with a small somersault and–

–lands on an open palm.

Ventus blinks. Then, jumps with a startled yelp, because he had not noticed anyone else standing right next to him this entire time–!

The young wind spirit laughs, bouncing excitedly on the newcomer’s hand. “Did you like my music?”

“… It was passable,” is the young girl’s response.

Ventus roams the streets of Mondstadt every day, and he knows all its residents. Yet he can say with complete confidence that this young girl who’d appeared out of nowhere next to him is not someone whom he recognizes at all.

Her hair is long, white. Smooth and silken, in a way that Ventus hasn’t even seen in noble-blooded daughters before. Likewise, her skin is pale and smooth –unblemished and flawless in the way that a person might suspect of a statue, rather than another living human being.

But despite the physical perfections, she’s only clad in a simple white chiton. There is a thin girdle that encircles her waist, and looks to be entwined of coarse wooden fibers.

The juxtaposition is a little… startling.

“Just ‘passable?’” The tiny wind spirit that still stands upon the strange girl’s palm freezes for a moment, then draws himself upright with a loud ‘hmph.’ “But Ventus said my song was great! And he’s the best bard in all of Mondstadt, so there!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say best bard,” Ventus laughs sheepishly, then puts on a friendly smile towards their unexpected guest. “Are you new to Mondstadt, perhaps? A rare visitor! Shall I sing a small song of welcome for the lovely young lady, perhaps?”

The girl doesn’t even deign to glance in his direction, which. Ouch. That’s actually kind of–

“Unnecessary. Your music is stifled.”

Ventus freezes.

Stifled.

… A thick barrier of fierce, impenetrable winds surrounds the city of Mondstadt and its nearby territories. Stifled is the right word for it –how could he not be, being caged like this under the aegis of an uncaring god?

For all that Decarabian had been the one to protect the earliest generations of Mondstadt’s people and help them raise their city from the ground, their patron god had eventually chosen to retire to the recesses of their high tower after the barriers were raised, and none had seen them since… save for the few chosen among the God of Storms’ knights, who continued to serve the deity faithfully throughout the generations. Blindly.

“But your music…” the white-haired girl lifts her hand, studying the little wind spirit that cocks his head towards her. “… you are… happy. Exceedingly so. Why?”

“Well, what’s there to not be happy about?” The young spirit responds. “I’m with my friend, and he’s teaching me how to play wonderful music! We’ll be playing together in the tavern with all of our other friends, too! There’s going to be yummy food and drinks!”

The excitable wind spirit does another little flip again.

“How long have you tarried here?”

The little wind spirit freezes mid-flip, dangling awkwardly in the air. “… Eh? I-I don’t understand what you’re–”

“You should know this,” the girl says, and her next words dismiss any possibility of her being a mundane traveler for Ventus. “You are only a fragment of the wind, a momentary breeze. The rustling of leaves in the morning light… which is how you slipped through the barrier. But no wind is meant to be bound to a single place.”

“B-But I have friends here,” the little wind spirit stomps his feet. “I like listening to Ventus’ music. I like playing tag with Gunnhildr. I want to stay here! … Please?”

The girl tilts her head. “Even if it means your sense of self will disappear entirely, if you insist on forcibly maintaining this form instead of returning to the Thousand Winds?”

Ventus’ mouth drops open.

What?!

“I won’t be myself anymore, if I return to the winds,” the little spirit answers. “I… want to spend time doing the things I like, with the people I like, in the place that I like. Is that so wrong?”

The girl is silent.

Ventus tries to say something, anything. Why didn’t you tell me about this? Is there anything that I can do to help? How could you hide something like this from all of us, foolish little breeze?

But nothing comes out from his mouth. Ventus discovers that his voice has been silenced without his knowing–

And in front of him, a small breeze picks up around the strange girl and the young wind spirit that hovers in front of her.

For a single moment in the silence of the night, only the stars and wind remain.

“… Nameless spirit. One who is but a mere wisp of the Thousand Winds. Who has cast his gaze upon this land and its people, and wishes to linger,” the girl says. But there’s a certain cadence to these words, a certain intonation that causes each syllable to echo in Ventus’ head.

Every note overlaps upon each other again and again, rising into a terrifying crescendo–

“Upon the authority of–” 

The girl’s voice disappears entirely. 

… No, it doesn’t disappear. Ventus is still cognizant of her voice, but for some reason he just can’t hear. But the moment passes swiftly before he has a chance to think too deeply on it, and– 

Suddenly, all pressure disappears from his mind.

Blessed calm.

Ventus gasps, staring into the ground, hunched over and kneeling. What–?

“–I bestow upon you the name, ‘Barbatos,’” the girl says quietly. “… Rise. I permit you to cease your endless wandering, and henceforth grant you a place to belong.”

There is a blinding flash of light that encapsulates the wind spirit. It’s–

Music, song, laughter–

Run, drift, fly–

Freedom–

…

…

…

With a sharp gasp as he startles back into the world of wakefulness, Ventus immediately bolts upright in his… bed…?

No. No, he remembers going out to meet his little friend last night. Playing music together. Then, there was that strange girl who appeared and did something to the wind spirit. It didn’t seem like she had any malicious intent, but…

…

… just who was she? Surely there was someone who would know; her appearance was quite distinctive. Long white hair, coupled with eyes that were–

… were…

…

(What did her eyes look like again? Ventus can’t remember. Ventus has excellent memory, and he can’t remember.)

“You’re awake!”

It is with great relief that Ventus takes in the sight of his little friend… or rather, not so little anymore. The little wind spirit appears to have grown slightly in height. More noticeably, though, there are now a pair of feathery white wings that sprout from his back, fluttering in the air.

“Ba– … err, um. Cecilia! Cecilia said that you were a little sensitive to her power, which was why you passed out, but you should be fine after a good night’s sleep.” The wind spirit turns a playful somersault in the air and plops down atop Ventus’ stomach, causing him to let out a slight ‘oof.’

Then, the words register. “Cecilia?”

“Um… yeah!” A shifty response, accompanied by nervously-fluttering wings. Ventus gives his little friend a look.

“… Did you just make up a name for her on the spot?”

“Her hair is pretty! Like the cecilias you showed me!”

Ventus opens his mouth, then closes it distractedly. “I suppose that’s true…”

“Isn’t it?” Eagerly, the little wind spirit leans forward. “And thanks to her, I don’t have to worry about disappearing anytime soon! And I have a name now, too –Barbatos!”

“… Do you know who she is, really?” Although the girl hadn’t been particularly friendly or talkative… despite everything, she’d helped the little wind spirit –Barbatos– of her own volition even though there hadn’t been any reason for her to. 

The power she’d shown… was she a wind spirit, too? Surely a strong spirit, at the very least. Decarabian had slain so many gods that even now, none dared to linger anywhere close to Mondstadt’s borders. So the very thought of the girl potentially being a god in disguise was a laughable one, but…

If they could get her help, then… perhaps, they would stand a better chance at resisting and overturning Decarabian’s tyranny.

“The winds cherish her,” Barbatos responds, which lends credence to the growing theory of the mysterious girl being another wind spirit. “And… I think she needs friends.”

Ventus hums.

“Well, I think we could help with that.”

#writing #zenith of stars au #mondstadt au #this doesn't come up in the tidbit but #in my head the statues of decarabian in mondstadt #are tall and male! #i wonder why #:) #sometimes in older records though we have decarabian showing up as a little girl #so there are also theories in which decarabian is a shape-shifter

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ guilty as sin ?

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.2k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: step brother!ethan landry x step sister!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 based on: guilty as sin? by taylor swift

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: step siblings trope. they are not blood-related. their parents aren’t even married, just dating. tension. implication of dirty thoughts/dreams, but nothing explicit. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hi! it’s been almost a month since the last time i posted, i’m so sorry. between college and work, i barely have time to breathe so my writing slowed down a lot. besides, my dog hasn’t been doing so good lately so, even though i try to write a bit at home to distract me, my head’s not really in it.

today marked twelve months of wondering why—why, of all people, did they have to fall for each other? it marked a whole year of torture for y/n and ethan, a year of having to lock their longing down in a vault everyday, every hour of the day. being forced to have the person you yearn for constantly close to you when you couldn’t have them had to be the cruelest way of living.

it was on days like this, when their parents left them completely alone in the house, that things got heavy. without the two living reminders of why they couldn’t be out of the picture, lines got blurry for the step-siblings.

the two of them were sitting by the coffee table doing their assignments when y/n let out a frustrated groan. “what’s wrong, grumpy?” ethan asked.

“i’m stuck at this equation.”

“let me see.” he slid closer to her and looked down at the notebook over her shoulder. the smell of coconut invaded his senses and he put all of his strength into stopping himself from burying his nose in the crook of her neck and press his lips against her soft skin. she was so irresistible, everything about her made him weak in the knees. “here, you forgot to pass the number to negative.”

“oh… right. sorry. it completely went over my head.” she let out a nervous chuckle. the feeling of his hot breath against the back of her ear made her senses go so wild she felt like her body was shutting down.

“it’s okay, i think you’re just stressed.” ethan said moving back to his place, and y/n was allowed to breathe again.

“yeah, my head feels like exploding” y/n said. now that ethan was fully facing her, he took notice of her flushed cheeks. was it because of him? he shouldn’t hope so, but he really did. “should we make dinner?”

no, ethan almost said. he just wanted to drag her into his lap and kiss the fuck out of her gorgeous face. but unless the gods hear his prayers and their parents broke up, ethan was going to have to settle for recalling in his head things they never did.

having visions about his step-sister wasn’t exactly right, but someone once said: there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. so, without ever touching her skin, how could he be guilty as sin?

“what are you in the mood for?” y/n asked as they walked to the kitchen.

“pasta?” he suggested.

“yes.” she did a little bounce. “i love your salsa.”

they danced around the kitchen with meticulous steps, making sure they didn’t bump into the other. even one brush could be dangerous when no one was around and they knew it.

“here, try it.” ethan raised a spoon with a bit of salsa. y/n moaned in delight at the taste and ethan’s grip on the spoon tightened. the night barely started and control was already slipping through his fingers. “jesus christ.”

y/n’s eyes met his lust-filled ones and her heart felt like collapsing. “ethan…” her tone was almost begging.

“we should eat in our rooms. separately.” the words rushed out of his mouth as he took a step back. her disappointing eyes pierced his heart, but they just couldn’t. one kiss would never be enough, and doing it regularly was a risk. who knows what their parents would do if they found out, and ethan would rather be miserable with her around than miserable without her.

with one quick nod, y/n served the plates completely defeated. it killed ethan to reject her, but he knew it was the right thing. or so he thought, because once he was alone in the four walls of his bedroom, the what ifs started invading his mind and a pint of regret swarm through his chest.

after an hour of overthinking, he decided they needed to talk. cards needed to be put on the table, and then they could figure out how to go on—which option should they choose, keep on ignoring their feelings or risk everything by not holding back anymore.

ethan was about to knock but his fist froze mid-air when he heard her laboured breaths and then the sound of his name being screamed. on the other side of the door, y/n woke up with her sheets ablaze and sweaty skin.

she’s had fantasies about her and ethan, but none like that one. it all had been innocent, she never dared to cross that line but tonight the tension had been so intense between the two, her brain absorbed it and painted it into a dangerous dream which made her feel guilty and sinful.

“i need to shower.” she muttered, feeling disgusted by herself. but when she opened the door of her room, she crashed into the object of her fatal fantasies. “ethan?” she squealed. “what are you doing here? h-how long—?” but he couldn’t utter a word, and that was her answer. “shit. i’m so sorry, ethan. i’m just- i’m gonna hide in my room for the rest of eternity.”

she turned around and entered her room again, but before she could scold herself for the awkwardness she had caused, the door flew open. suddenly, her front was pressed against a hard chest and full lips collided with hers.

like reflect, her fingers tangled around the soft brunet locks and ethan hummed in content. the kiss started harsh and needy, but soon turned into a sweeter one.

“you’re like a paradox, you know that?” she whispered in a breath. ethan made a questioning sound. “one moment you’re escaping me and then you come to my room and cross the line you’ve been trying so hard to draw.”

ethan grabbed her hand and guided her to the bed. y/n snuggled his side as ethan rubbed her arm affectionately. “i was stupid to think we could keep ignoring the pull between us. today was…”

“definitely intense.” she finished and he agreed. “how do we go on?”

“i want you to be my girlfriend, but we will have to be careful for a while.” ethan said. “we won’t be able to keep it a secret for too long.”

“they’re going to kill us.” y/n sighed, tracing the shape of his lips with her fingertips.

“but what a way to die.” he pressed a kiss on her hand “we’re going to be like romeo and juliet.”

y/n held back a grin “romeo and juliet weren’t killed, they committed suicide.”

“whatever, smartass.” he pinched her side. “for real though. we won’t be able to hide this forever, not if we want a long term relationship. we’ll have to tell them and they’ll probably be furious. are you sure you’re in?”

“i’m all in, ethan. i choose you and me, forever.” she assured him.

“forever sounds amazing.” ethan looked down at her with lovesick eyes.

they stayed in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth. ethan’s fingers were moving against her skin, making her feel relaxed. after a few seconds, she realized he was drawing an specific pattern, and a wide smile broke into her face—ethan was writing ‘mine’ in her upper thigh.

“you’re so sweet you’re going to make my heart explode.” she hugged him tightly, hiding her warm cheeks in his chest.

“hey, now that i have you, i’m not holding back. i’m going to be so sweet to you it’s going to disgust you eventually.”

“i’m a sucker for sweet gestures so bring it on.”

“challenge accepted.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry scream #ethan landry fic #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry smut #step brother!ethan landry #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion oneshot

[mentally-a-slut]

Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)

Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)

Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!

You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.

You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.

The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.

The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."

Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."

Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.

Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.

Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.

John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.

It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.

You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.

You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.

He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"

You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"

He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"

He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"

"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"

Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.

You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"

"Just into town."

"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"

You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."

"Oh. Oh."

The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.

~~~~~~

You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.

Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.

His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."

You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.

The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.

When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.

You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.

"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.

His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.

You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.

His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."

He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"

He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.

His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."

He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."

You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"

You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."

Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"

"Good girl."

He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."

"Whatever you say, baby."

You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.

The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."

He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"

"Feel good, huh?"

"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"

He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.

"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.

"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.

With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."

He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.

He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"

"Only for you."

You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.

You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.

You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"

His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.

He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.

You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.

"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."

You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.

You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.

After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.

Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.

He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.

Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."

His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.

His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."

His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.

You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"

You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby, I've got you."

With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.

"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"

You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."

You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."

He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.

"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."

His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.

His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.

He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"

You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fem!reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #smut #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #rdr2 smut #female reader #afab reader #one shot #part 2 #part two #azi's creations

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 5: 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔

words: 911 pairing(s): mountain + hank the raccoon/juniper the cat catch up on the hank lore [here] and [here] and [here]

✿

A thumbtack. An acorn. A loose ribbon. A big lilypad snatched from the lake. Pebbles, flowers, and petrified chips. Even a lost earring without its twin, the worn gold star glinting from where it’s buried in the pile of random trash and trinkets.

Mountain stares. The only reason he noticed it at all was because he had to scoot out the storage cabinet to get to the stone planters. He sets down the tower of pots he was shuffling from one end of the greenhouse to the other and wipes his hands on his apron. Curiosity reels him in; he squats down to inspect the squirreled-away pile of things at closer proximity. 

The little stash is actually quite unique. Hardly any duplicate objects besides the pebbles—even the dried blooms differ from each other. Mountain pokes around some of the objects with his finger, rummaging for the more buried items. A broken plastic bubble wand. A scrunchie. Part of a grucifix. A cork. Even a guitar pick. And . . . are those . . ?

“My glasses?!” Mountain frees them from the pile and stares at everything open-mouthed. He’s been looking for them for weeks; swore he left them in here, just on the bench, but when he had come back the next day they were gone. He had come to terms with having to get a new pair (though he quite liked these ones)—and yet, here they are.

There’s a rustling behind him, and when a round little body toddles up to him, the puzzle pieces click into place.

“Hank,” the earth ghoul accuses. He dangles the pair of readers in front of the raccoon’s twitching nose. “Why’d you steal my glasses, dude?”

Hank chitters and whips his fluffy tail back and forth, ears pinning back to his head. 

Mountain sighs and offers him a scritch under the chin. Too cute to stay mad. “I’ve been blindly potting flowers for many days, little one,” he scolds, albeit with a kinder tone. 

The animal squawks and pushes past Mountain’s legs to his trinket stash. He whines when he sees the state of it, all scattered about and disorganized.

“Well you can’t blame me for wanting to look,” the earth ghoul defends himself. “You’re not stealing from other people, are you?”

Hank screeches at the accusation.

“Sorry, sorry. Just me then, hm?” He gets screeched at again and bapped in the shin with Hank’s tail. 

Lucifer give him strength, he’s arguing with a raccoon. “Okay, let’s just say you found them, then.”

Hank is pleased with this answer. He chirps and begins to re-arrange his items. 

“Why do you have all this anyway? I mean, I’m a lover of a good trinket myself, but you aren’t exactly the collecting type of species . . . also I’m not sure that all of these things count as trinkets.”

The animal gives him the best side-eye a raccoon can muster.

“Hank, there’s a dead bumblebee in here.”

If a raccoon could roll its eyes and lift its chin indignantly, Hank would do that. Instead, he chitters what can only be a string of small mammalian passive aggressive statements. 

“There’s no need for such language.”

Hiss. Chirp chirp. 

Mountain rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I’m not saying you can’t—listen. Little one. My darling. Little. Creature.” He emphasizes each word with a sigh, chopping his pressed-together palms down as punctuation. Hank stops fussing with his objects and looks at the earth ghoul with those black little orbs. “Could we, perhaps, just find a better place for them? Put them somewhere I’m not going to accidentally crush them with an old armoire, yeah?” 

The animal screes happily, bouncing over to the earth ghoul and standing up with his little hands outstretched. Mountain snorts and picks him up, rising back up to his feet and flipping him over to rub his belly. 

“Why do you have to be so cute?” he asks, playfully pinching under Hank’s chin. The raccoon only kicks up a scratchy purr in response, swatting at Mountain’s wrists weakly. Mountain bounces him like a baby for a few moments before setting him down again, glancing around for something to use for his friend’s treasures. 

“Hm. I think there’s an old basket or . . . something around here,” he mumbles. He taps his hands on his apron as he scans the rows of tables and shelves. No . . . no . . . no. Suddenly, Mountain stops. Scrunches his face up and turns back towards Hank fully confused.

“Why are you hoarding things anyway?”

As if to answer his question, Juniper squeezes her way through the back door. Mountain had put a kitty door in it for her and Hank—though, Hank still prefers to force himself through the gap in the opposite corner of the green house where the windows have bowed out throughout the years. 

The white cat offers a mrrow in greeting, striding up to the both of them with an unbothered, graceful aire. Hank chitters excitedly and bounds over to his pile of trinkets, quickly selecting a mystery bauble between his thin little paws. He shoves it in his mouth and runs over to her side, chirping in greeting and dropping the object at her feet.

A close-to-fresh dandelion. Juniper mrrp’s at the gift and leans down to inspect it, the buttercup yellow petals tickling her nose. She seems pleased with the gift and rubs her cheek affectionately against Hank's with a purr. Two little unlikely lovebirds.

“Ah. Should have guessed that’s who those were for . . .”

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿

#mushy may 2024 #the band ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #hank the raccoon #juniper the cat #the band ghost #ficlet #mushy may #i love my round lil guy #and my round lil guy loves his sleek fluffy white princess and gives her gifts hehe

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I forgot about the 1k prompts. I will love you forever (not that I do not already) if you would write something sweet about neurodivergent Ed and Stede caring for each other in that special sweet disabled4disabled way <3 also as usual I love your writing so so so much whether it’s actual fics or just the thoughts you have to share on here :)

yes!!! whohooo! love this prompt with all my heart!

--

“Alright, love, you’ve got your bag?”

“Right here!” Ed took a moment to stretch as they stepped out of the car, swinging his travel backpack up onto his shoulder.

They were across the country on business, and they’d been looking forward to the vacation days they’d get on this trip for months. They’d been to all the aquariums within a few hours’ drive of home - hell, they had annual passes to three of them - so the chance to get to visit a new one was a rare thrill.

“Alright, you’ve got your knee brace…” Stede tilted his head to make sure he could spot the brace poking out under Ed’s shorts, and Ed lifted his leg to make sure he could see it was on and fastened appropriately.

“You’ve got your headphones.” Ed reached out to straighten Stede’s shirt collar, but he just wasn’t able to resist how cute Stede looked, slightly sunburned and with his sunglasses resting adorably on top of his head, and he hauled him in by the shirt for a kiss. “And I’ve got a pack of disposable earplugs if you need ‘em.”

“I shouldn’t, I did call to make sure they’re sensory -friendly,” Stede said brightly, automatically reaching up to make sure he could still feel the noise- canceling headphones around his neck anyway. “Did you put everything in the bag?”

Ed knew Stede wasn’t nagging, he was just making sure - he’d had so many travel nightmares with Mary and the kids thanks to things getting left behind accidentally. He pulled his bag off his shoulder, resting it on the hood of their car so he could reassure both of them they had everything they needed.

“Got water and snacks…” They always carried a few snacks when they went anywhere like this. Ed could get grumpy and irritable when he was hungry, and even calling ahead didn’t always mean they could be sure there would be reliable Kosher options for him. Stede, too, was prone to not noticing he was getting hungry until he already felt like shit, so the trail mix was a lifesaver. “My foldable cane, your earplugs. We’re set!”

“Perfect,” Stede said, taking Ed’s hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek before they headed across the parking lot.

When reading up on this aquarium, they’d read that it wasn’t usually crowded on weekdays (perfect for Stede), but it was big and had a lot of walking, so Stede had bought their tickets online so they could skip standing in line. Ed wasn’t always the best at realizing when his knee pain was getting bad enough he should use the cane, so he knew to expect Stede’s check- ins.

The aquarium was a bit smaller than some of their favorites back home, but being able to see so many animals they’d never seen before made up for it. Stede grabbed a map for them at the information desk, circling the areas the employee had pointed out to them where there were places for Ed to sit or quiet corners if either of them felt overstimulated.

It felt, sometimes, like Ed would never stop falling in love. As they went through the aquarium, reading the informational signs next to the exhibits out to each other and trading cool facts back and forth, he felt like Stede’s joy and enthusiasm was lighting up the whole world.

Ed’s favorite aquarium animals were the sharks. Stede adored the stingray touch pools, but he never got mad when Ed didn’t actually want to put his hands in the water. They got lots of pictures, Ed made Stede laugh by imitating a little penguin waddle in front of the penguin exhibit, and Ed was nearly bouncing with excitement as they got closer to one of the last exhibits at the aquarium: the sea lions. 

Things went a bit south near the end of the aquarium, though.

They’d specifically visited on a weekday morning to skip the crowds, just because crowded aquariums could feel so claustrophobic and that really freaked Stede out. But they caught up with a huge crowd of kids there on a field trip, and Stede ordinarily liked kids, but it was a very slow-moving, loud group, and Ed could practically feel Stede getting more anxious and stressed by the second.

“I’ll be alright in just a moment,” Stede promised him, taking the water bottle Ed passed him after Ed guided him back towards one of the quiet spots marked on their map.

Ed looked back over his shoulder. Not the kids’ fault they were excited, but he could hear the crowd from here. “Wanna call it a day?”

Stede frowned down at his water bottle. “But the sea lions! Want to go without me?”

Truthfully, Ed was a teeny bit disappointed about missing the sea lions. But he could see videos of sea lions any time. He only had one of his Stede, and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it worrying about Stede feeling anxious and upset back here without him.

“Nah,” he said, taking Stede’s elbow, starting them towards the exit. “You know, I saw a few food trucks outside.”

“That sounds perfect for lunch!” Stede hooked his elbow through Ed’s. “I’m really sorry, love.”

Ed leaned over for a quick kiss. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, babe. I’ll steal your desert.”

Stede snorted. “You will anyway.”

Yeah. Ed absolutely would. He knew that just as surely as he knew Stede would need to go back to the hotel to decompress after lunch, and he’d be able to get Stede to give him a foot massage, and they’d need to take an hour to just hang out and let their brains take a break, Stede playing on his phone and Ed reading his book. Just as surely as he knew they’d be taking care of each other for the rest of their lives, just as he knew either of them would ever have to worry about hiding hurt or discomfort ever again.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

[goosetowns]

the ides of march

the ides chosen especially for march

march’s ides

#ides of march #kuzco's poison #I had this bouncing around in my head all day #disney kuzco #the ides of march #v post

[person4924]

how could anyone hate luke alvez. he is literally just The Guy.

#i had this bouncing around in my head all day #BUT SERIOUSLY #MY SISTER HATES HIM SM #BC HE KINDA REPLACED MORGAN #WHXIH I GET IVE DONE IT #BUT I LOVE HIM SM #luke alvez #criminal minds