#but this came from somewhere so here it is

[alexias-putellas]

are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

-

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

[wandasfifthwife]

make you mine ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x afab!reader

after finding out that your girlfriend has been fucking you with the strap she’s used on her one night stands the past, you make her buy a new one. when she comes home with the new strap you can’t help but to claim it—and her—as yours

tw: SMUT MDNI, established relationship, top!wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda’s strap is referred to as her dick/cock, strap (r receiving), strength/muscles kink, r’s needy, bondage (w), jealous!reader, wanda used to be a player, packing (w), R sounds a bit possessive, overstim if you squint, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: here’s that strap fic 🤭

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

Jealousy’s a funny thing. It’s been settled within you since Wanda came forth with her past, confessing that she used to take girl after girl between her sheets. It was only last night that you met one of them, a curse of living in a smaller town.

A stranger had wondered up while you two were at dinner, asking how Wanda’s been doing. You had stared while Wanda was doing her best to shoo her off, trying not to be too rude. It’s weird to think that this stranger was under Wanda at some point, maybe Wanda even liked her too.

You never found out with how fast Wanda would shut the conversation down, stating it’s apart of the past and knowing what happened would only hurt you. You know she was right, but curiosity eats away at you. How many girls did she bring to bed, and did she ask any of them back, or were any of them good in bed? She kept silent.

The only thing she answered was about whether or not the strap she uses to fuck you was the same one she used with them. You found out that it was, and your reaction was expected. The question came at an inconvenient time, but what you two were doing triggered the thought. You had mumbled it against her lips, hips grinding down onto her thigh. She looked almost nervous when you froze, pulling away from her.

“Until you get a new once, you’re not allowed to touch me,” you said, climbing off her bed. Her reaction was imminent, already setting off the next day to buy one, sending you a text you when she had. Your arms were wrapped around her neck when she came back, pulling her body on yours until you two fell back into the wall.

“Mm, love wait—“

You couldn’t. Your lips had moved back on hers, arms locked around her in hopes to keep her there. She couldn’t either, finding herself engaging in the kiss until you were breathless. Keeping you in that state was the only way she was able to get her words across.

She asked you to jump, hands moving to hold under your legs when you do, wrapping your legs around her waist. She throws you down into the bed, smiling at the gasp leaving you. Your hands grab at hers when you notice how they’ve begun to undo her pants, holding them together.

“I want to,” you ask.

“Want to what?”

“Ride.”

With her help she finds herself on her back, gaze lovingly taking in the sight of you on her. Her legs were propped up, giving you someplace to lean back on. You were a sight to see, hips grinding down onto her clothed length, shivering when it rubbed against your clit.

“It’s big,” you whisper, whining right after you press it into your entrance as far as it’ll go. Wanda leans a bit to mouth at your neck, knowing where to kiss to get a reaction out of you.

“Take these off,” she says into your neck, fingers slipping under your pants to slide them off. You help, lifting your legs to help her slide them off. They come right back to rest on your waist, hovering over your underwear but you hold them still, “no.”

She raises an eyebrow, “no?

You reach into her desk drawer, holding back a smile at the amusement on her face when you pull out a line of rope.

“How long has that been in there?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t found it.”

“So, a long time?”

You shush her, fingers sliding up her arms, guiding them together above her head. Once her shirts been removed, settled somewhere in her room, you’ve begun to tie it like you’ve been practicing. The material is thin, but a bit scratchy against her skin.

“Why’d you choose a light material? I can just break through these.”

She finds your eyes, growing needy herself seeing how her question has your eyes turning glossy, “yeah, that’s the point.”

She’s left bare under you, watching you slide her length between your folds, effectively wetting it. It was fun to watch how her arms jerked, itching to hold you like she usually does. She does good, arms kept above her despite everything in her wanting to break the rope.

“You got this for me?”

“All for you, just you.”

Her words set off a switch in you. Wanda’s hands have found themselves reaching behind her, fingers holding tight against the headboard as she watching you press each inch of her into you. It’s bigger than her other one, pushing your walls out wider than what you’ve grown used to, but it’s perfect.

The wetness grows between your thighs helping to ease the tension and allow you to guide her size through into you easier. You take it all greedily, clenching tight around her once you’ve settled down completely.

“Has a girl done this with you before,” you mutter, breathing heavier at the sight of how Wanda looks under you.

“No, no I’ve never—no.”

She almost moans at the whimper you let out as you move your hips with her still inside to spell out your name—both of your minds feeling floaty after your ministrations.

“Then this dick’s all mine.”

Wanda whines, head tilting back and hitting the headboard, a plea spilling from her lips as you begin to set a slow pace. The room is silent except for your gasps and the sounds of her strap thrusting into your wet cunt with the rhythm you’ve set.

You’ve got a hand sprawled on her stomach, using that and the other you have on her knee to move your body on top of hers. The position at which you’re slamming your hips down adds friction onto Wanda’s, building pleasure in her own body every time you snap your hips down.

“Fuck,” you cry, “you-oh!”

She’s never seen you like this, pushing your hips back on hers with more speed each time, whining nonsense in her ear except for one word—mine.

“‘m close,” you say, tone whiney and airy, “I’m close—ah! So close.”

The second she sees your back check arch and mouth drop open in a silent cry, she’s snapping the band to flip you on your back.

She’s pushing into you faster than the pace you had started, enjoying every sound that escapes with each thrust.

“Ah! Ah!—please, don’t stop,” you grip her back, wincing a bit when she circles your clit.

“Say it again.”

“This cock is mine—mn!”

She hums, “and?”

“You’re mine.”

She angles her hips, smiling when she finds your spot immediately. You curse, coming again around her strap, drenching it and the sheets below you.

“That was hot,” Wanda says from on top, body laid on yours. You welcome it, hugging her close and enjoying the added weight.

“Can we take a bath tonight? I don’t feel like standing.”

“Don’t feel like it, or you can’t?”

You ignore it, “so bath?”

“Sure, only if you answer my question.”

“No.”

She laughs at how frustrated your face looks, the pout drawing no sympathy from her as she lifts you off the bed with no difficulty. The bath water is run warm, you can feel it relax your muscles as you lower yourself into the water. Her skin’s smooth, and nice to lean back against, cheek falling onto her shoulder.

“You haven’t answered it still.”

“Because you already know the answer.”

“Do I?”

You have your eyes shut but if you could you’d roll your eyes at her, “okay, I can’t. Ask one more question and you won’t be able to touch me for a week.”

“I probably can’t anyways because I don’t want to make your limp any worse.”

“Hate you.”

“Hm, but I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, smile growing when you turn your face to kiss her properly.

“Love you too,” you say, feeling special knowing no one before you was ever able to do so.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚1.3k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

#competing series #hockey!wanda #hockey player!wanda #hockey coach!wanda #hockey!au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader smut #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x afab!reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #marvel wanda #wanda marvel #marvel #marvel fanfic #Wanda Maximoff marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

[rebelliousstories]

Not On My Watch

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @victias

Warnings: Strong Language, Brief Violence, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 1,128

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: There is something that can flip a switch in even the most trusting of men; jealousy. Now what switch that is all depends on the man.

Walking alongside each other in the desert was not the most ideal plan for anyone. But it worked for them. Salvation from the blistering heat was found just up the road at a small city that was hustling and bustling with people and shops. 

“How many you got left, baby?” She asked, peaking her head out from the lip of her matching cowboy hat. Deftly, Cooper dug around in his satchel to pull the bag with his chems out. 

“Got three. Know anyone with access here?” He replied, tucking them back in and continuing to walk. 

“Please. You know I always know a guy, baby. Don’t worry about it.” Her tone was teasing as she playfully hit his shoulder. Cooper allowed a small smirk to overtake his face at his partner’s jests. Thoughts ran rampant in his head as he continued to walk. His self esteem was finally on the up and up after they collected the latest bounty, but it was times like these that tested that. 

It seems like a lifetime ago that he had stumbled upon the woman in the middle of the Wasteland, half beaten and looted, but determined to get her effects back in a timely manner. An unusual partnership struck up when she offered a hundred caps to help her find the men that took her gear. As they tracked them through the Wastelands, they quickly realized that they had more in common with each other than they previously thought. 

Oh, and get her gear she did. Cooper did not realize that he was that attracted to someone so covered in blood and gore until he saw the hell she unleashed upon those men. From that point forward, they continued to travel and make their living together. Trading chems and caps for companionship. 

However, in between the nights nestled together for warmth, and days on the open land, doubts came in to the scarred head of Cooper Howard. There was the persisting thought of never being there in the long run. If being feral doe not get him, it is going to be someone else. Or he will just have his body shut down because even he does not know what is going to happen exactly. Or maybe she would realize that being with a ghoul is more of a hinderance rather than a benefit. 

“Hey,” she jolted him out of his thoughts, “you alright there, baby? You left for a little while.” Her voice was honey sweet, and lace with concern as she observed her partner. 

“Course I’m alrigh’. Let’s go.”  He trudged on ahead, leaving the woman to catch up to him yet again. Once in town, they took inventory of what was around them. A few street vendors for food and crafts, a medical shop, a bar, and a little inn that was left from the old days. Walking into the doctor's place, the sterile smell was a welcomed change of pace from the dirty way of. life outside these white walls. Their boots clicked against the hard floor as the saddled up to the counter. 

“We don't take your kind here, Ghoul. Go somewhere else.” A man behind the counter spoke, looking up from his ledger. His eyes scanned the deformed man before his gaze landed on the woman next to him. 

“Now what can I help you with, little lady?” He leered, teeth yellowed beyond saving in his smile. 

“Sixty vials of chems. Now.” She stated. Her face was devoid of any emotion other than contempt. But the man in front of her only saw that as a challenge, while the Ghoul watched. 

“Oh. I think we can strike up a deal. Just for you of course.” Once more, he tried to make himself more appealing than he actually was. 

“Chems for caps. I have no interest in a man that looks, smells, and acts worse than the foulest of ghouls.” She said bluntly and watched the man's face fall. He shuffled around quietly and produced the sixty vials they requested. 

“Sixty chems for one hundred twenty caps.” The doctor eyed the woman nervously for her next movement. 

“That sign out front says ‘five chems for three caps.’ Now, the only you're gettin’ a hundred twenty caps from me, is if you supply the appropriate amount of chems. Now, here's thirty-six caps for sixty chems.” Tossing the bottle caps on the counter, the woman kept them just out of reach until the doctor produced what he had promised. He kept to himself while working on grabbing the vials. Once they had swapped hands, she tipped her hat as the duo walked outside. 

“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” And with that, they left. She passed the chems to Cooper so he could replenish but he just stood there dumbfounded. 

“The hell was that?” He questioned, voice tinged in false fury. 

“That was me getting your meds. What's the problem?” She pushed back, wondering what was going on with the Ghoul. 

“Why didn't you want him?” Cooper's quiet voice whispered as he kept his eyes to the ground. 

“Whatcha talkin’ about baby? What do you mean?” Stepping closer, she tried to get him to look up but to no avail. 

“You could have your choice of man. Even one not so… deformed. What are you even doing with me anyways?” There goes his barriers yet again. Howard had perfected building the walls back up around his heart when they would fall down in front of her. But she just stepped closer to him, and pressed her fingerless gloves hand to his cheeks so that she could look in his eyes. 

“Coop, I don't want no one else but you,” she started, “I don't want someone not deformed. Most of these men are far uglier inside then out. I can deal with someone not attractive to most people. He just needs to be attractive to me.” By the time she had finished, Cooper was looking her in the eye, and feeling himself crumble. 

“Now you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft which is not gonna be too good now, sweetheart.” He drawled out, resting his hands on her hips softly. Pulling her even closer, they stood underneath their hat brims for a moment. 

“That's okay. As long as that cowpoke knows I ain't goin’ nowhere for no one. And I'll continue to make sure he believes and knows that. No self doubt on that front. Not on my watch.” She replied, saying them ever so softly. 

“What's you say we try and find us a nice spot to camp tonight? Wanna be able to treat you for bein’ oh so kind.” Cooper smirked, finally Slipping right back into the charming ghoul she knew and loved. 

“Lead the way, partner.” 

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout imagine #fallout

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

Goin’ Somewhere?

-C.S

Synopsis: You go to the airport, to catch a flight back to your hometown. However, you get stopped by airport security, and they have to take you in one of the private rooms, to ‘search you’.

Pairing: Airport Security Guard!Dom!Chris X Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected p in v, degradation kink, semi-public sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), tit fucking, pussy slapping, choking, ROUGH sex, spitting, slapping, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, pet names (ma, mamas, baby, darling, sweetheart, ext.), foul language, missing your flight, usage of Y/N (its inevitable im sorry.), small mention of anxiety, i think thats all!

{2ND PERSON POV.}

“Okay, empty your pockets, place everything— including your shoes— in this bin.” A shorter female demands sweetly, letting everyone know that she means business, but wasn’t trying to frighten anyone.

You nod, taking everything, your wallet, phone, headphones, and even your chapstick out of your pockets, placing them in one of the small grey bins beside you. You then bend over to slip your shoes off, but your ass accidentally hits someone behind you.

You immediately throw your shoes in the bin, and turn to apologize to the person you literally just pushed your ass onto, and you came face-to-face with a tall male, who was wearing the same uniform the woman was, indicating that he was also an airport security guy. He was handsome- you wouldn’t deny that. His bright blue eyes, chiseled jawline and cheekbones, perfect nose, his shortish brown hair. This man was fine, and you knew it.

“I’m so sorry,” You apologize. “I didn’t mean to do that-“ You ramble, but the man chuckled, and placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but the action sent butterflies through your stomach.

“You’re all good, sweetheart. I know ya didn’t mean to.” He nods, flashing you a bright smile. Sweetheart. A pet name should not have made your heart flutter as much as it did. “Now, turn around f’me, and walk right on through that.” The boy stated, and you nodded.

You walked through the metal detector, but it beeped. Fuck. You know you don’t have anything on you, though?

“Alright, darlin’. You’re okay, i’m jus’ gonna need ya to follow me, ‘kay?” The man states, placing his hand on your lower back. You feel your chest begin to tighten. You oddly felt safe with the male, although you don’t know him. You don’t even know his name.

He takes you into one of the search rooms. All white, with a door on it. You knew no one ever goes into these rooms unless something was severely wrong. To say you were horrified is an understatement. The man unlocks the room, and leads you inside. It has a cheap plastic table there, and a metal detecting wand, but nothing else. This was where they’d manually search you, and even make you strip if you need to.

“I- I don’t have anything on me, sir! I swear!” You plea worriedly, but the male simply chuckles.

“Call me Chris. Please.” He replies. And before you could say anything else, he walks forwards, pulling something out of your back pocket. His badge.

“Okay.. call me Y/n… But..What..? How-“ You began to question, but then quickly realized. He had placed his badge in your pocket when you bumped your ass into him, so you would have to be in here with him. Smart. “Oh.” You hum, and he smirks.

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic. We don’t have to do this by any means- I don’t want you to feel pressured. At all.” He speaks softly, placing his hand on your shoulder. Before you could even think, your lips were meeting his. He gasped in surprise, but, quickly kissed back.

His hands held your waist softly, his tongue dominating yours. You tugged at the vest he was wearing, signifying you wanted it off. He smirked, and pulled away from the kiss.

“Impatient, are we?” He teased, slipping his vest, and shortly after, his shirt off. Your eyes trailed all over his body, his collarbones, v-line, arms, neck, and even the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Mhm,” You agree, attempting to pull him back into a kiss, but he doesn’t let you, and you let out a small whine in reaction.

“This doesn’t seem very fair to me, mamas. I have to have my shirt off, but you don’t?” He growls, “Be a good girl and strip f’me, yeah?” He demands, running his hand through your hair, forcing your body against his.

His demeanor changing made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed. Chris seemed to be quite attentive. Must be because of his job. You quickly slip out of your shirt, not sure if he wants you to leave your bra on. He smiles at your obedience, looking down at your body.

“Fuck, ya look so good like this,” He states, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip, dragging it down, before letting it bounce back to its original place. “So, so pretty.. Be a good girl and let me fuck those nice tits of yours, hm?” He asked, his voice rough.

“Yes, please,” You huffed, and he pushed the hair out of your face.

“Atta girl.” The taller male praised, unbuckling his pants. You couldn’t help but stare, directly at the boys’ clothed cock. His pants were quickly discarded, and you could see how big he was through his tight boxers. “Lay down on that table over there, pretty girl.” He demanded, and you quickly made your way to the table.

You quickly sprawl out on the table, laying on your back, spreading your legs enough to where the boy could situate himself between them. He made his way closer to you, his cock now free and in your vision. Your eyes quickly widened at his size, and how pretty his prick was.

“You ready?” He asks, pulling your body closer to him, but waiting for a response before he touched you any more.

“Yes.” You sigh breathlessly, and Chris’ hands find their way to your breasts, pushing them together enough, slipping the tip of his large cock between them. He lets out a breathy moan, as he pushes in further, the tip of his dick poking out of the top of your breasts. He lets out a breathy moan as he began moving his hips back-and-fourth, pulling and pushing his cock between your tits.

You moved your head forwards as his pace quickened, sticking your tongue out where his cock had poked through, allowing your tongue to hit his tip each time he pushed far enough in.

“Oh- fuck, good fucking girl,” Chris moaned, his head falling backwards. “Gon’ cum all over these pretty fuckin’ tits, y-yeah?” He slurs, and you hum in approval. His cum begins to quickly spurt out of his slit, coating your tits and face in the white sticky liquid. “Fuck yeah..” He growls, pulling his cock away.

He quickly rips your pants away from you, tossing them elsewhere in the slightly large room.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ soaked for a stranger. How pathetic.” He smirked, lowering himself to your sopping cunt, taking the view in. He leaned forwards, pressing two fingers against your hole, over your panties, making the cold wetness press against you, making you gasp. He chuckled at your responsiveness. He leaned his head forwards, placing a soft kiss to your clit, before pulling your panties completely off.

He places the discarded panties by his pants, and you knew you weren’t getting those back. He places your legs over his shoulders, and moved two fingers forwards, spreading your folds apart, giving him a full view of your glistening folds.

“So pretty.” The boy smirks, placing another kiss to your clit, which was this time unclothed. You shutter at the touch. He brings the fingers that were spreading your folds out, down to your hole, before abruptly shoving both into you- causing you to let out a loud yelp. “Yeah, lemme hear your pretty sounds. Let everyone in the airport know how good I make you feel on my fingers, hm?” He growled, hus free hand caressing your thigh.

“Fuck, I needa taste you, ma.” Chris growls, and quickly attaches his lips to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh- Fuck, Chris!” You whine out, arching your back, as the boys fingers continued to move in and out of you at a rapid pace, as his tongue lapped at your clit. “‘M not gonna last long!” You warned him, knowing it was the truth. Chris’ tongue is heavenly.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Cum all over my face, just like the slut you are.” Chris permitted, and you did. You let yourself go all over his face. His tongue, fingers, lips, chin, even dripping down his neck. Chris began cleaning your juices from you, but his tongue wasn’t making usual movements. He was spelling something.

C. H. R. I. S.

The boy spelt his name, as you squirmed against him, wanting to tell him to stop from the sensitivity, but you couldn’t.

“Feel that, ma? Who’s pussy is this?” He growls, pulling away from you finally, your wetness dripping from his chin, his nose glistening.

“Fuck, Chris,” You hummed. “Yours. All yours.” You agreed, and the boy smiled.

“Fuck yeah.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, before harshly slapping your pussy, making you jump at the sudden contact. He lets out a chuckle at the way you responded to his touch. “So sensitive.” He teased.

He abruptly grabs his cock, slipping it in between your folds.

“I’m assuming you weren’t planning on fucking anyone in the airport lime the slut you are, so i’m assuming you don’t have any condoms on you?” Chris asks, not necessarily caring, knowing he’ll fuck you regardless, condom or not.

“N-no, I don’t,” You whine. “I’m on the pill, though.” You state, and Chris lets out a small sigh, as he rubs your stomach gently, his hands reaching behind your back to discard your bra.

“I was kinda hopin’ I could see ya all full of my babies. Don’t worry, though, sweetheart. I’ll still fill ya up.” He licks his lips, moving his attention back down to his cock, which was prodding at your weeping cunt. He slowly pushes his tip inside of you, making you let out a small squeak. “Yeah, thats it. Take my cock, like the whore you are.” He growls, while continuing to push himself into you.

You whine and squirm on his cock, the stretch burning more than any other time you have had sex. Chris was much bigger than the others. He finally bottomed out, but before saying anything, he began thrusting. He kept a slower pace, which you appreciated, so the stretch wouldn’t rip you in half.

“Y’re so tight f’me, baby, aren’t ya?” He growls in your ear, and you shiver in response. His thrusts begin to slowly speed up, and you bite your lip, stiffening your moans. “Yeah, ya like that, don’t ‘cha, ma?”

“Y-yes!” You whine, your back arching as the male sped his pace up, slamming into you. “Fuck, yes! Harder!” You cry out, and something switches in Chris.

His hand snakes up to your tits, before slapping them harshly, making you yelp.

“Fuck yeah, take my cock darling. Take it all.” He pants, his hand moving up to your face. He places a harsh smack to your cheek, before shoving his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on, to forget the pain. Your cheek quickly turned red, and Chris smiled at his ‘damage.’

You whine around his finger, as you begin to clench around his cock, and he knew you were close.

“Cum for me, mamas. All over my dick. Let it go.” He growls, and you loose it. The knot in your lower stomach snaps, and you let loose all over his cock, and he continues thrusting. “Fuck yeah, that’s it. Like the slut you are.” He hummed.

He quickly pulled out, your own cum and his precum coated his thick cock, as he flipped you over. Your eyes widen, and you knew he was going to absolutely ruin you. He grabs the backs of your thighs harshly, yanking you down, so your feet were on the ground, but the upper-half of your body was laying on the table.

Without warning, he slams his cock back into you, causing you to let out a loud scream, arching your back.

“Yeah, good girl. Let me know how good i’m makin’ ya feel.” Chris praises, one of his hands reaching up to your hair, and the other sneaking its’ way to your throat. He yanks your hair back, and squeezes your neck, and you let out a loud moan, shoving yourself back into him. “Yeah, that’s it. Jus’ like that— fuck,” He groans, his head falling backwards, as his grip on your neck occasionally tightens and loosens.

You could tell he was coming undone as his cock throbbed inside of you, and due to you being sensitive from your previous orgasms, you were just as close. His thrusts didn’t slow or halt, instead they became sloppy. If even, harder.

“Shit, ma. Gon’ cum in this tight pussy, hm?” He taunts, his hips snapping against yours, his thrusts now becoming slower, yet more forceful. He yanked you backwards to meet each of his thrusts, before he allowed himself to let loose inside of you, stilling his cock, not allowing any of his cum to seep out. You were so close, but the second he stilled his movements, you couldn’t let go.

After a few seconds, he flipped you back over, avoiding pulling out, and he placed one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing himself a perfect angle. He began his thrusting movements once again, and almost immediately, you let yourself go, your slick cum coating his cock.

“There ya go, ma.. Let’s see how many we can pull outta ya.” He grunts, satisfied at how soon he has already made you cum in this position. The boy looked down at where he was disappearing inside of you, and then sliding back out, and his body shivered at the sight. It’s almost like you were made for him.

He begins quickening the pace, one of his hands slipping from your hip to your swollen clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“O-ow-“ You hiss, your body jolting at the sudden added sensitivity, but you didn’t stop him. You wouldn’t dare to.

“I know, pretty baby. I know.” He whispers, and you feel a new feeling. A feeling you hadn��t felt yet— ever. The feeling caught you off guard, feeling slightly more than the last few orgasms you had.

“F-Feels different-“ You stutter out, as Chris pounds into you.

“One s-second, baby. Hold it. D-don’t let go u-until I say s-so.” He demands, and you let out a loud whine, but chose to obey, not wanting to see the consequences if you didn’t. You clench around him, attempting to hold your orgasm back, as he releases his, stilling his movements on your clit, allowing his thumb to just stay there, pressing down.

This causes you to let go, squirting your juices all over him. Embarrassment floods your face- you didn’t even know you could do that. You look away from him, refusing to look.

He removes his hand from your clit, slowly pulling out. He used two of his fingers, pushing his cum back into you, before using those same two fingers to swipe some of your sticky cum off of himself, bringing it to his mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he slipped his now clean fingers out of his mouth.

“You’re hot and you taste so fuckin’ good.” He shutters, placing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes widen. Theres no way you didn’t just miss your flight. You’re fucked. Literally, and metaphorically.

You stand up, wobbling, before Chris rushes over to help you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Goin’ somewhere?” Chris joked, but you glared at him.

“My flight, asshole.” You growled at the sweaty and gross boy, and his eyes widen.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry, ma.” He whines, running a hand through his silky hair. “Look, if I can get ya number, I’ll get ya a new plane ticket, yeah?” Chris proposes. How could you turn down such an offer?

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

Might possibly my filthiest one yet, but yeah..! hope you sluts enjoy <3 and ik this probably isnt how the little search rooms actually look, ive never been inside one. And yes, ik theres cameras and other people in there and they wouldve def been caught, FOR THE SAKE OF THE FUCKING FIC PLEASE IGNORE ALL LOGICAL SITUATIONS😭🙏🏻

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @imwetforyourmom @lovely-calypso @75sturn @junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut

[nicksbestie]

i know it won't work - C. Sturniolo

Summary : "part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that"

Warnings : very angsty. crying, heartbreak, yk the drill. nothing triggering though!

Word Count : 1000

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (past romantic)

A/N : i was listening to this song in the car this morning, and boom here comes this fic idea!

You regretted ever moving to Boston.

You hated the city, hated who it reminded you of. You couldn’t leave your house without feeling trapped in the space that you had once adored to travel with the person you had loved with your entire heart. If you had the money, you would have moved far away by now. All you could do was be so grateful that the two of you hadn’t moved in together, because you would have actually had to leave. As much as you hated that you were still here, leaving would have torn the pieces you were already in right into shreds. 

You sat in front of the empty closet in your guest room, tears rolling down your face as you processed that it would stay empty for a long time. You couldn’t bring yourself to fill it, wanting it to stay empty just on the off chance that he came back, that he needed someone, somewhere to stay, somewhere to put his things. If he needed space that he could only find in your home, you would have space for him. He could inhabit that space for as long as he wanted, as he inhabited your heart still, living in it despite how tightly it was clenching in pain, as if to squeeze him out.

You couldn’t bear the thought that he might never come back, that you really may never see him again, that you might not get to love him again like you used to. How could you bring yourself to deal with the idea that this might be it? Your number wasn’t blocked, but it seemed like he couldn’t find a way to softly tell you that there was no chance he was coming back, so he simply left all of your texts on delivered. Despite how heartbroken you were, you knew there was no way that you could go back to loving him in a non romantic way. There were two ends of the spectrum, and you knew that you would either love him endlessly, or hate him relentlessly. You hoped it never came to be the latter.

Chris knew you were still waiting on him. He knew you were hoping he would change his mind, that he would turn around and run back to him, and the breakup was killing him as well. He couldn’t lie to himself like he could to you, he had thought about going back. He had thought about claiming it was all a lapse in judgment, that he still loved you with everything in him, but he worried that he wasn’t worth all of the hope you were saving for him. He’d paced around his room so much that he had nearly worn holes in the floor, and even his brothers had begged him to fix things, but he just couldn’t do it. He really did believe that this was the best move for the both of you, but he couldn’t deny the doubt creeping into the back of his mind. After all, it had been a long relationship, one spanning just over five years. How could he just let that go?

You’d run into each other in a store, and you’d both seen your face on the other person’s. The dark under eye circles, the bloodshot eyes, the signs of sadness sinking into your bones. Neither of you could speak to the other one, simply staring before Chris broke the eye contact, walking away. It killed you to look into his eyes knowing that he clearly didn’t want you back, an opinion so different from how you felt. You didn’t know that he did want you back, desperately, but was trying to make it easier for you by cutting things off. He wished that you would find someone else, that you’d put yourself out there, because seeing you with someone else might help him snap back into reality, help him get over it as well. 

He was torn. He knew you were still holding on to him, and part of him wanted you to let go, wanted you to move on, to love someone who wasn’t him, but the other part of him wanted to shrivel up and die at just the thought of your arms around anyone who wasn’t him, your lips on anyone else’s skin. But it would make it easier for him to realize that you really weren’t his anymore, and maybe that was just what he needed. Maybe. He had broken up with you in person, knowing that he owed you at least that, but the call to you to ask when he could come pick up his things from your place had been one of the hardest calls you’d ever received. The ghost of your relationship being inside your apartment had made the entire building feel haunted.

He knew he was being an idiot, but he wanted to think that his heart was in the right place. Both of his brothers knew he was being an idiot, to the point that Nick showed up to talk to you, and Matt was talking to Chris, desperately trying to fix things between the two of you. The conversation between you and Nick just ended up with you sobbing in his arms, him trying to convince you that it would be okay, that Chris loved you, that he would realize and he would come back. The one between Matt and Chris wasn’t going much better, Chris having angry tears streaming down his face, trying to convince Matt and himself that it was for the best.

“It isn’t going to work.” 

“Make it work.” 

You were in Nick’s arms, silent, enjoying the comfort but hating why you needed it, when your phone dinged from behind you. Nick picked it up, checking who it was before nudging you.

“Here. You want to read this.” 

Chris <3 : I know I tried to cut all ties but you’ve never left my mind. Can we make this work?

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo @dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack @tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

#chris x y/n #chris sturniolo headcanon #christopher sturniolo x y/n #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris #fanfic #boyfriend chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo age regression

[rainba]

Here it is... The fic where Luka kidnaps both his darling and Kairos.

TWs/tags: human furniture, dubcon, kidnapping, slight depiction of violence, pet play, NSFW, mind break, cucking (?), dark content, use of shock collars

Reader is GN, however, there is one paragraph where the reader is gendered. The asterisk* will mark the paragraph with afab reader, and the one in parenthesis is amab. :3c)

MDNI! 18+

In one previous post, I mentioned that Kairos and Luka do live in the same universe and city– and in a few other posts, I mentioned that they’d never share their darling. If one of them tries to kidnap darling, they’ll just report the other to the police. 

Then another idea came up, a way that Luka could circumvent that predicament: Luka figures that Kairos would instantly report him if he kidnapped his darling. So… In order to stop that from happening…

Luka would kidnap both you and Kairos.

Luka’s house is definitely big enough to keep both of you. In the beginning stages, he’ll keep Kairos locked up in the attic while he keeps you in the basement. The basement is much cozier– meanwhile the attic is all dusty, hot, and muggy.

Between you and Kairos, Luka will be much, much nicer to you. He’s (quite literally) obsessed with you, so of course you get the better treatment. He cooks your favorite meals and feeds them to you by hand. He gives you plenty of water and always showers you in attention– sometimes he’ll even place a TV down in the basement and let you watch random stuff. You know, just so you don’t get too bored. He wants you to feel at home–! When you learn to accept your new life, he’ll spoil you rotten.

But for Kairos..? Luka is absolutely brutal.

Luka will rub in the fact that he beat Kairos in “winning you.” He’s simply just the superior man– the superior partner. Luka loves you too much to ever let you go. After all, you're the only person that has ever made him feel anything at all. And he really drives in the fact that you belong to him, and that Kairos will never have the chance to even touch you.

Luka will walk circles around Kairos as he mocks him relentlessly.

“Nobody is looking for you.”

“You’re pathetic. Disgusting freak.”

“They’re all mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Kairos will scream, squirm, and cry as much as he possibly can– but nobody can hear him. Luka is right: nobody is looking for him. Kairos doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t have any friends. He’s stuck in this hell forever.

To keep Kairos alive, Luka gives him his leftovers. He dumps it onto the dirty ground and drags Kairos next to it, commanding him to “eat up.” Kairos is forced to pathetically writhe on the floor and eat without his hands– all because Luka refuses to untie him. As for water, Luka forces Kairos to drink out of a dog bowl.

Most of the time, Kairos can’t hear anything. Luka’s house is eerily quiet at night. And during the day, Kairos can sometimes hear the sounds of children laughing and playing outside, or he’ll just hear Luka casually going about his day as if there aren't two people locked up in his house.

It’s torturous.

Over time, Luka will get you to warm up to him– call it stockholm syndrome kicking in, if you will. Or maybe you already loved him and he just needed to build trust with you. Either way– you eventually upgrade from the basement to his bedroom. And that’s when things get infinitely worse for Kairos.

He’s not just listening to Luka going about his daily routine now– no, now he has to also listen to the two of you fucking multiple times a day. The way you’re moaning out another man's name… The sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall… Kairos finds himself choking and sobbing as he’s stuck tied to the chair. Sometimes he starts to dissociate and pretends that he’s somewhere else.

Most of the time he pretends that the two of you just got married, and he’s playing out different scenarios of honeymoons in his head.

After a few more weeks or months go by, Luka will grow bored of keeping Kairos tied up in the attic. If he’s gonna keep a hostage, he might as well put them to good use. So what does he do with Kairos?

He uses him as human furniture. Forces him to also be a pet.

You’re horrified as you watch Kairos crawling around the house with a gag in his mouth and a leash attached to his throat. If Luka feels bold enough, he might even have the words “Luka’s Bitch” decorated on the collar. Oh– and it’s not just a regular collar, either. It’s a shock collar.

Any time Kairos acts out and disobeys Luka, he earns himself a shock so powerful that it causes him to seize and collapse onto the floor.

…This entire time, you thought it was just you in the house. You didn’t know there was another person. You’re not alone.

It makes your stomach churn.

And Luka encourages you to use Kairos as furniture as well. Use him as a footrest, use him as a table or a chair– do whatever.

Over time, deep down, incomprehensible and guilty thoughts begin to appear in Kairos’ mind. Things that made him once want to throw up now make him feel… Funny. He’s so happy that he gets to see your face again–!! He’s finally reunited with the love of his life, it’s just a shame it’s under such horrible circumstances.

Kairos doesn’t mind if you use him like furniture. It’s okay if you do it. But he loathes it when it’s Luka who’s using him.

The difference between you and Luka is like night and day. While Luka berates and degrades him, sometimes even depriving him of basic necessities, you always sneak around and give Kairos lots of love and extra food. 

Kairos always breaks down and cries in your arms when you show him kindness– he’s so very thankful for it. But be sure that Luka doesn’t catch you. If he sees you being sweet towards Kairos, he’ll harshly punish Kairos and then fuck you right in front of him. Every time.

Kairos always feels so pathetic as he's forced to watch you getting ravaged by Luka. The way you're moaning under his touch... The hot, sticky sound of Luka's cock sliding in and out of you... All of this happening while Kairos is tied down and unable to do a thing. He's so fucking hard, and there's nothing there to relieve him. Luka punishes Kairos if he dares to look away.

In order to gain more privileges, both you and Kairos need to work to gain Luka’s favor. If the both of you prove that you’re capable of being trusted, he might give you more freedom. He’ll let you look out the windows every now and then– might even let you use the kitchen. He's much more open to giving you privileges than he is to giving Kairos any.

Except, of course, he always hides all of the sharp objects in the house. He doesn’t want you two to have access to weapons. And if you try to poison him even once, he’ll immediately make the kitchen permanently off limits when he's not around to watch you.

Also, over time, another funny thing happens. Luka doesn’t really like punishing you outside of sex- he'd much rather shower you in rewards. He’d rather save the roughness and punishments for more intimate settings. After all, he’s trying to earn your love– not make you hate him. So, what does he do instead?

Every time you act up, he’ll drag Kairos by his leash and punish him in your stead. After all, he knows that you care about Kairos and his wellbeing, so he uses that against you.

Oh, you just tried to break out of the house? You tried to poison Luka? Well, that deserves a proper punishment. Luka will tie you to a chair and force you to watch as he brutalizes Kairos. Whips him with a belt, kicks him in the stomach, takes away his food privileges for the next 48 hours... It’s horrible.

And in a way… This would cause Kairos to start policing you, too. Which is exactly what Luka wants. Kairos really, really doesn’t want to get punished. I mean, deep down, he’s absolutely happy that he gets to take the beating instead of you– it’s like he’s your hero!! …In some weird and twisted sense. But also, he really doesn’t want to get punished, so… Please don’t act out.

However, when the months keep rolling in, Luka will slowly warm up to Kairos. All of the punishments will grow less severe– and sometimes, Luka just lets you all off with a warning. It’s obvious that a big change has happened when instead of Luka just fucking you in front of Kairos, he lets him join in on the fun.

Except Luka doesn’t really want to touch him– so, he’ll let you touch Kairos instead. It’s what Kairos always wanted– Right?

Kairos should thank him. 

Luka will tie his arms behind his back and keep him firmly locked to a chair, completely naked. Kairos feels so ashamed that he’s hard– but god, he can’t help it. He’s so excited to finally be able to touch you, his darling, the person that should’ve always been his–!

And Luka will make sure it’s enjoyable for everyone. Luka will strip you of your clothes, but he might put you in a cute pair of thigh highs, just for the fun of it. Luka will grab you by your hair and push your face into Kairos’ lap as he utters one phrase, “suck it.”

You’ll do as you’re told– you don’t have much of a choice. Kairos’ eyes instantly light up as you wrap your lips around his sensitive cock.

Finally– his dreams are coming true…! 

Sort of.

As you suck him off, Luka will lift your ass into the air and he’ll fuck your tight hole. He’ll keep his right hand on your hip while his left hand grabs the back of your head, lacing his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t care if you can barely breathe– he’ll shove your head all the way down on Kairos’ dick as he bottoms out inside of you. Occasionally, he’ll lift your head up and lean in to kiss you on the lips.

It’s all so hot– but ultimately, it’s all for you and himself. Luka will always make sure you cum, that’s his top priority. His second priority is to make sure he gets to fill you up. As for Kairos? Well… Luka doesn’t care all that much.

If Kairos doesn’t cum? That’s too bad. It’s Kairos’ own fault that he didn’t come undone. But if he does cum? That’s alright too. 

However, don’t expect Luka to make you stop sucking. Kairos will be squirming in his chair whining like crazy as you overstimulate him, his body trembling from the sensation, but you can’t stop until Luka says you can stop.

The second scenario is much more likely to happen than the first. The moment Kairos looks down and sees your fucked-out face choking on his length… He’ll cum right on the spot– every single time, without fail.

After the first instance of Luka letting Kairos join in the sex, he earns a lot more privileges. He can finally sleep in the same room as you two–!! But he’s not really allowed to rest on the bed. He’ll be forced to curl up and sleep on the floor– but hey, it beats the attic any day, right?

Luka also takes off Kairos' shock collar. Since Kairos has proved himself to be a good boy, he's now allowed to roam around freely. Hell, sometimes Luka will pet Kairos and give him some praise. It... Makes Kairos feel strange, but in a good way.

Kairos is also now allowed to cuddle you sometimes. When you’re simply sitting on the couch and trying to relax, Kairos will immediately hurry over to your side and rest his head in your lap– desperate to feel even an ounce of affection from you. He might ask you to stroke his hair and kiss the bruises Luka left on his skin.

* If Luka is at work and Kairos knows there’s no cameras around, he might beg to suck on your tits– you know, for comfort reasons! It would really make him happy to have them in his mouth– it would be therapeutic, even.

((And if you’re a guy, Kairos will instead beg to frot you. While it’s a lot more dangerous and the punishment for getting caught is heavy, Kairos is willing to risk it all. Don’t worry–! You can just sit there and relax; Kairos will be the one doing all the work with his hand.))

You know how stressful and traumatizing this whole situation has been for him… He needs to be comforted so badly… So.. Pretty please?

In some sick and twisted way, over time, Kairos grows to like the way things are– perhaps his mind does this as a way to cope. He tries his hardest to find all the positives in living this kind of life:

> He gets to spend every minute of every day with you!

> He doesn’t have to worry about talking to strangers.

> He doesn’t have to work and maintain a job.

> He doesn’t have to cook and clean for himself.

The list goes on. Kairos gains all of these benefits, and all he has to do is give up most of his basic human rights and submit to another man…!

Okay, Kairos still admits that is pretty bad. But… At least he has you…! That’s all Kairos really cares about in the end!

For Luka? He’s satisfied with the way things are. Not only does he not have to worry about Kairos ratting him out to the police, but now he has both the love of his life right by his side and a fun little pet to take his stress out on. 

So… Everyone… Wins? In the end? ❤️

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere fic #luka being a little silly #yandere x darling #yandere x you #inconsistent art style strikes again lmao #wait lol this is my 100th post yippe

[tarosunshine]

if riize did this trend https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFqKE3VT/

라이즈 𐙚 ONE KISS﹗

genre fluff 𖹭 warning none ﹗ pairing boyfriend OT7 x fem reader | bookshelf .

note: i' m a little late, but i hope you like it!

𐙚 shotaro

you were sitting on your bed with a smiley shotaro in front of you. he was so excited about doing that.

fifteen minutes ago, your boyfriend came into your room with his phone in hand, showing to you the screen, where you saw that trend about kissing your partner and full their face with lipstick. and this guy right here begged you a couple of minutes until you said yes.

so now, after putting red lipstick and seeing the smile on your boyfriend's face, you were smiling too.

“what?” he asked with a silly smile. you shook your head as you approached his face.

“don't move, taro” you said before putting your lips over his cheek, causing his laugh. then on his other cheek, nose, forehead, lips, and all his face.

when you finished, he was looking on the screen of his phone with a bright smile, admiring your work.

“oh, right! i have to record.”

𐙚 eunseok

the past week, this cute trend won't stop appearing on your fyp. you were so jealous of the couples that were on your screen. and you don't have a boyfriend for doing this type of thing, so that doesn't help at all.

but oh, you just remembered that you have a boy best friend who definitely will say no, but you would try anyway.

“fine, but you are such a wirdo” he sighed as he rolled his eyes. you smiled and ran to your room to grab your lipstick. and in a few seconds, you were right by his side on the couch.

“you are complaining, seok, but you say yes anyway” you put the lipstick on your lips as you chuckled, looking at him. he just ignored that fact and waited until you finished, and looked at the screen of your phone, searching for the song for the video. “and done.”

you grabbed his face by his cheeks to turn to look at you and kiss his cheek with delicate, surprising him by your sudden action. he just scrunched his nose with his eyes closed, pretending to be disgusted. you giggled and then kissed a spot next to the previous one.

when you finished kissing his face, you admired the piece of art you had done and grabbed the phone from his hands. he cleared his throat as he kept looking at the floor.

his face looked so red on the video.

𐙚 sungchan

“oh, yeah, that trend appeared on my fyp too” sungchan smiled as he looked at your phone. you bite the inside of your cheek, looking at him.

“and.. we can do it, right?” you asked as you showed him your lipstick. his smile went bigger as he nood repeatedly. the excitement glows inside you as you quickly put the maroon lipstick on. “that color looks cute on you” you smiled for his compliment.

then he grabbed his phone, entering his account to search for the sound. when you finished, you looked at him, waiting to him to look at you, and when he finally did it, immediately approached your face so you could start.

a few minutes later, sungchan was with a big smile on his face, red cheeks, and his face full of mark kisses.

𐙚 wonbin

wonbin probably won't tell you, but he was so excited when you asked him to do that trend of couples. you can tell by the way that he is sitting properly on the bed as he waits patently for you, as you are putting the lipstick on.

“well, now you have to stay still” grabbing him by his shoulders, you put on your knees at the height of his forehead, starting to kiss him. wonbin just closed his eyes, loving the feeling of your warmth.

“that tickles” he chuckled and tried to separate from you when he felt your lips on his jaw, almost on his neck. you just laughed and then grabbed your phone.

“yeah.. you have to keep smiling like that for the video, bin” you tased him, looking how his ears turn red, turning his gaze somewhere else in the room.

“stop playing.”

𐙚 seunghan

“pleasee, i want yoir kisses on my face” your boyfriend was almost on his knees, begging for you to accept to do that trend that appeared on his fyp once. and seunghan wasn't someone insistent, so he really wants to do it.

the trend was cute, so of course you accepted.

“fine, i'll do it, i can't resist if you do that puppy eyes” you giggled as you pinch his cheek. and he immediately tends you to your favorite lipstick. “oh, thak you!”

as you were putting the color on, your boyfriend was looking at the screen of his phone, probably searching the sound to start.

“wah, you're so cute” he smiled with tenderness, admiring the color on your lips, and then looking at your eyes with excitement. he was like a puppy.

“okey, mr. hong, come closer so in can kiss you” you speak with a serious tone and face as you grab his wrist. seunghan smiled and approached your face, closing his eyes.

you start kissing his nose, then his forehead and then the rest of his face, finishing with a peck on his lips. when you moved away from his face, he finally opened his eyes.

the bright smile on seunghan's face was the star of the video.

𐙚 sohee

you know that your boyfriend would be so shy about doing this trend, but also so excited, so you rushed to his room after knock and lay next to him with a smile.

“what with that smile?” he welcomes you with a radiant smile and sleepy eyes. wrapping your waist with his arms, hiding his face on the crock of your neck.

“you saw that tiktok tred of the lipstick?” your suddenly question makes him look at you with curiosity. then he nodded, knowing what you would ask. “nice, so i was thinking...”

“all right, we can do it” he said, surprising you with his answer. and after seeing his tiny smile, you went to grab your lipstick as he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face.

when both of you were ready you sat infront of him the bed with excitement. then he closed his eyes, letting out a nervous breath, as you approached his face. where you started kissing all his moles, thing that you adore the most about him.

“now we can start recording!”

𐙚 anton

you thought that maybe convince anton to do this trend with you would be easy, but it wasn't, so you decided not to insist anymore. your boyfriend was someone shy, so you understand that. and now you were on your bed on tiktok when that type of video appeared again. you sighed and passed it.

“after you ask me to do that tred with you, it wast appeared once on my fyp.. but now is full of it!” your boyfriend entered the room with his phone in hand, complaining with a frown.

you stop looking at your screen to look at his face and chuckled.

“here” he extended you a lipstick, and you looked at it with confusion. “we have to do it. i want to do it now” his cheeks were red and he was looking at the lipstick on his hand, avoiding your eyes. so, after you took the cosmetic you giggled, grabbing his hand in the process, to make him sit next to you.

he bites the inside of his cheek, nervous as he scrolls on his screen, waiting for you to finish.

“we can do it and don't post it anywhere” you told him when you closed the lipstick. the boy looked at you with his signature smile. “come” you extend your arms in the direction of his cheeks, and he understood, approaching you. you stopped smiling so you could kiss him properly.

when you pressed your lips on the skin of his cheek, you felt the warmth of it, knowing that he was embarrassed. and when you suddenly kiss his neck, he separated in surprise. face full red at this point.

“done.”

#lim ⋆ #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ #riize #riize shotaro #riize eunseok #riize sungchan #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize anton #riize imagines #riize scenario #riize x reader #riize x you #kpop imagines #riize x imagine #riize is 7 #riize ot7

[franzkafkagf]

okay so i want to hear about your take on aegon i know you like him and all (so do i no matter how much i wish not to) but whyy

yess thanks for asking, I love being insane about him<3

I think Aegon is such a wildly tragic character– many asoiaf characters are but I'm so drawn specifically to him; he didn't want power or responsibility or the crown. It all was bestowed upon him against his will, and he shouldn't; putting on the crown is his definitive death sentence. The coronation scene has got to be one of my favorites in the season– he is quite literally walking up to be butchered like a sacrificial lamb, there are tears streaking his cheeks in the scene! I love the tragedy of it, the way it couldn't have been avoided anyways; his fate was sealed from the very start! He was quite literally dead from the very beginning.

I'm going off a mix from the book and the show but I actually love what they did with the character in the show? The book version does have some hard-hitting moments from him that are missing ("What sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?") but there wasn't that much there in terms of characterization and relationships. And wow, did they deliver on that in the show; I'm gonna give whoever came up with his mommy issues a forehead kiss.

Because YES! He and Alicent are reflections of one another– Alicent suffered under the heavy boot of Otto, turned into the perfect daughter, turned into the perfect queen for him. She recognizes that this was wrong and abusive of him, then she turns around and does the same thing to Aegon– the poison DOES drip through, the wheel is NOT broken!! It's BRILLIANT.

@atopvisenyashill put a GREAT tag under one of my posts–

#he looks like her and he’s weak like her so why can’t he get strong like her.

While Alicent persevered, Aegon crumbled under the pressure. He is miserable when we meet him– and he should be! He is unfit for the role of king, but it is his destiny nonetheless, everybody tells him so. It destroys him.

It's so sad too and I cannot help but to feel bad for him. No one knows where he is in ep 9, I don't think he has anyone to confide in; it must be lonely. Everybody seems to have written him off already– he is a drunk and a failure at being heir, being a son, being a father. He tries to prove them wrong later, and does in some aspects.

His loneliness plays into another aspect of him that I really love; his desperation to be loved. He will never be enough for anybody, he probably knows it deep down.

"[Aegon is] desperate to be loved but destined to be hated." – Tom Glynn-Carney

Obviously there is the carriage scene with Alicent that shows this. But I also really love the moment in his coronation, where he basks in the people's affection and cheers. He is poised to bleed out in front of the throne, he was crying and fighting for his life not to take the crown just minutes before. But now he's here and they love him and he can't help but love that.

He takes the crown to protect his family (the show does hint at that with Alicent telling him as much in ep. 6– in the book it's much more explicit with Criston pressuring him on the day of the coronation itself) and then his son DIES because of it! And he drinks and rages and drinks some more; he must've blamed himself. He goes to battle, flies too high (figuratively), and he FALLS; he burns and falls to the ground. He isn't made to be king. He knows. He does it anyways.

"You have already written yourself into legend, you survived dragonfire" – Larys Strong in season 2 (probably)

He survives, he is gone for over a year, unable to do anything but he SURVIVES. He escapes the capital, takes Dragonstone, he falls AGAIN, he loses most of his family; but he still goes on. Fueled by what? Maybe anger, or bitterness or just pure lust for revenge. It doesn't matter. He must've realized somewhere on the way that this was always meant to go this way, ever since he put the conqueror's crown on. It doesn't matter.

And then he dies and it's not grand or spectacular or anything like that. He drinks poisoned wine, nobody even sees him die, they only find him after. It's so uniquely lonely.

#hotd #house of the dragon #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #hotd meta #aegonposting #alicent hightower #otto hightower #omg now im sad </3 #ales.txt #asks

[sorrowsofsilence]

Desolate Love • N.S

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.

Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.

Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

A reminder of what once was.

A reminder of what would never be.

You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.

Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.

He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.

“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”

The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.

“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.

His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.

“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”

“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.

You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.

“You like blink-182?”

Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”

He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”

You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.

Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.

“Wonderwall?” He asked.

A song that became yours.

The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.

These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.

The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.

No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.

It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.

Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.

But you knew every time.

His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.

“I just like your hair,” He’d say.

And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.

His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.

Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.

You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.

You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.

Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.

He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.

“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”

He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.

But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.

“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”

Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.

Just friends don’t call each other pretty.

Just friends don’t text each other all night long.

“Is it easier to just pretend?”

Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.

The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.

Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.

N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”

You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”

N: “Well, I know who you like.”

You: “I guarantee you don’t.”

N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”

You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”

N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”

With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.

Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?

Hope.

It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.

Torn.

“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”

His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.

“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”

He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.

“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“

His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.

Ludicrous. Empty.

You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?

You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”

N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”

You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”

It took him almost an hour to respond.

N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”

The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.

You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.

You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.

His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.

How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?

He pretended to be happy for you.

Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.

You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.

He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.

It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.

It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.

But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.

His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.

But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.

Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.

He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.

He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.

You knew he was lying.

It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.

Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.

You never listened to Wonderwall again.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.

As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.

A reminder of what would never be.

A reminder of what once was.

Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.

No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.

#sorrows of silence masterlist #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #angst #sad poem #bad omens angst #angst fanfic #desolate love

[findafight]

The "Robin would never date Steve's ex who broke his heart" take is FUCKING stupid for a lot of reasons.

First of off, the autonomy you're taking out of Robin with this.

Like she's not Steve's sidekick, she's not his yes man, she's an indepent girl who should be free to date any girl she wants.

She would never let her friendship with him ostacolate her love life.

Why the fuck she should do that?!

No one would.

And also, Steve is actually the one who hurt Nancy the most (slut Nancy Wheeler).

And if you think for a second that Robin would ever take Steve's side, then you're wrong.

Just stop centering everything around Steve, and stop reducing Robin to be just his sidekick, 'cause she's FUCKING not.

Hi! So. Pretty sure you found the most recent post I made (on April 6th) tagged anti rnce (and ONLY anti rnce. Not even stranger things. Just anti rnce and my personal original text post tag and a quip about choosing violence. So clearly if that’s how you got here you chose to not just send a post you disagreed with to your friends to rant about but came into my inbox and tried to start shit)And if you didn’t I truly don’t get how you, clearly a rnce fan, found me.

I’m going to be honest. Neither of us are going to change each other’s minds. I don’t like rnce for a lot of reasons, from i just don’t see a romantic spark there to a lot of the shippers being kinda shitty. I don’t care what you ship, really, just that. Claiming it’s canon or should be canon endgame etc gets annoying. And that a lot of the times the way I’ve seen the relationship portrayed (because, contrary to possibly popular belief, I have actually tried to read some fics for them. It’s also such a commonly untagged side or background pairing that I am subjected to it like that often as well) there’s so often weird terf or radfem red flags and alarm bells going off. I’ve seen someone harassed by rnce shippers for calling them out and then those shippers loudly regurgitating terf talking points like it’s fucking funny. I know all fandoms and ships have bad eggs but holy shit.

There’s been a few posts about how for some reason rnce fans try to portray people who don’t like it as making Robin Steve’s sidekick, when really we are acknowledging the facets of her characterization other than her lesbianism. Just because she likes girls doesn’t mean that’s the only thing that matters to her!

Yes, Robin liking girls is part of who she is, it influences how she acts and what she talks about, but it’s not the ONLY thing about her. She likes old movies, she enjoys pop and new wave music, she does her make up in her best friend’s car, she forgot to mention she never learned to drive because he forgot to ask if she could, she thinks combining into a super being with said best friend would possibly solve most of their problems.

Robin is a character who makes her own choices! She chooses to butt in at scoops, chooses to stay with Steve in the bunker to hold off the Russians, chooses to tell him her deepest secret, chooses to apply for jobs with Steve once they heal from the mall, chooses to spend a lot of time with him! And that’s rad. It gives us insight on who she is!

Whenever I’ve written or talked about Robin choosing not to date Nancy, I’ve always made it perfectly clear that it is Robin’s choice. Because given what we see of her in two seasons, Robin is loyal, and greatly values her friendship with Steve. Like. Regardless of how Steve feels about it, and I do think of Robin was legitimately interested in Nancy and Steve thought she had a chance, he’d encourage her to go for it. (Steve isn’t blindly encouraging Robin to hit on Vickie. He has high suspicions that Vickie is queer in some way too! She likes boobies!) I think Robin would think twice about it just because how much she encouraged stancy to get back together in s4.

Honestly, it makes me sad seeing how many times “why would robin choose her best friend’s feelings over getting a gf” is said because like. I value my friends’ feelings all the time. If I thought something I was doing was or would hurt them, I would reevaluate. Why WOULDNT Robin consider her best friend’s feelings? The first person she ever came out to? Who made her feel safe and accepted? Who made her laugh when she felt most vulnerable? Who she encouraged to get back with his ex? Romance is not a level up from friendship, it is not the endgame of life, it is not superior to any other relationship type. Treating friendships as less important to romance is something to reconsider and reevaluate.

Your last point. Anon, who is centring Steve now? Sure. He fucked up in s1. Literally no one denies that. He fucked up and he worked to make things right. He cleaned up the graffiti, he went to apologize to Jonathan, and he presumably apologized to Nancy, because she decided to date him for eleven months after that. I highly doubt there wasn’t heavy gossip about the graffiti or their breakup/makeup. I do agree that before Tina’s party Steve wasn’t helping Nancy as much as he could have, but Nancy wasn’t communicating to him either. They weren’t in the right place for each other. If we consider the alley the breakup, how is that not still breaking his heart? Yes Nancy was on a noble crusade, but it still had collateral damage. It’s something interesting about her character!

Robin wouldn’t be on board with the graffiti. But like. Steve’s changed and apologized since then. And She wasn’t there? She’s just here for the aftermath of Steve’s reignited feelings for Nancy. Idk. Both Steve and Nancy hurt each other in s1/2. It’s not a Steve v Nancy thing? It’s just an acknowledgment that of the two, Robin is closer to Steve. She’s more likely to consider him. She’s not omniscient to everything that happened or the persons feelings and reasons for doing it.

I’m sorry you don’t think friendship has an equal or greater value than some romantic relationship, it must suck. I also hope you find better things to do than to come to someone’s inbox and try to start something over a ship you like that they don’t.

#anti ronance #I censored it in my answer but anon didn’t so it might show up in the search #but not in the tag #findaanswers #listen. just get out of here #if you think I’m a stupid idiot then block and move on #but you clearly came here from somewhere looking at stuff to be mad at because I always make sure to tag #also everyone ignores that Steve has CURRENT FEELINGS for Nancy that ROBIN ENCOURAGED

[hecateslore]

☆💋

pt.1, pt.2 and pt.3 are all here! (asks are open.)

Melting played softly in the background while you put your lashes on, blinking and looking at yourself in the mirror once you finished. You phone rang, you grabbed your remote lowering the tv's volume, answering it, "Yes," You said sweetly, "I"m down the street."

You stood up, checking your window to catch a glimpse of him on his bike. "Where's the bike?" You asked biting your nail, "In the shop, It had some problems." He said, "Forgot what it's like to drive. " He let out a breathy laugh. "I bet... So do you think you can stay this weekend?" You change the subject, not really in the mood to listen about all his bike drama.

"Yeah, I have to leave for a couple on Saturday, But then I should be good." He said. You were still looking out of the window, you could see him pulling into the complex, You hummed in acknowledgement, "I'll leave the door open for you, I need to finish my makeup and then get dressed." You hang up the phone, cutting him off like you normally do.

"Here." Simon shouted from your front door, he looked around your apartment noticing how spotless it was. Simon walked down the hall to your room, catching a glance of you lining your lips in your robe. "Creep." You mumbled watching Simon from the mirror. He chuckled and walked towards you, standing behind watching your do your last touches, You lifted your head back to look at him. Simon bent his head down, catching your lips in a kiss.

"You're still not done?" His hands rubbed your shoulders while you look up at him, "I need to change." You stared at him, "You have gloss on your lips." You sat back up.

He shrugged cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. You got dressed fixing your gloss and lip liner one more time before hitting the road with Simon. "So where are we going today?" You said from the passenger seat, "I got to make a couple of stops, then we can decide." He looked at you, You nodded.

You both pulled up in a building lot, majority of the buildings were empty, Price and Johnny outside, holding a black duffel bags and plastic bags wrapped shut with a rubber band. Johnny waved at you and you waved back, "I'll be right back," Simon pecked your cheek before getting out and talking to the men.

A couple of words exchanged before he came back in the car, "DO you want to get some food?" He asked casually, "That's fine." You mumbled, "What's wrong?" He sighed, noting your mood change, "Nothing, I'm fine." You faked a grin. Simon narrowed his eyes, before leaning in for a kiss, "Stop pouting." He popped your lip with his finger. "My lips," You swatted his hand, immediately going to check the mirror.

-

"Don't drop that one." You warned Simon who was holding what look like hundreds of bags filled with clothes, shoes, jewelry and random things for your house. You walked up the stairs carefully trying not to drop anything. "Let me unlock the door." You said aloud, mostly to your self. "Okay," You said quietly while opening the door. You went back to get the rest of your things.

Simon chuckled at the sight of all the boxes and bags that sat on the living room floor. "I'm gonna put all this away," You happily grabbed some bags taking them to your room.

Simon watched you walk off debating whether or not to hide one of the bags around your house for the moment. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "What are you doing?" You asked looking at Simon who was still standing in the middle of the room, "Was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" You bent down to grab the last bags of clothes. "Stuff." He mumbled, "Yeah sure." You rolled your eyes, going back to your room. "Do you have to work tonight?" Simon yelled from where he was standing. "No, I took the weekend off." You yelled back.

Simon sighed, trying to figure out where he was going to store the bags, Somewhere you wouldn't notice, and how was he going to sneak them in without you knowing.

"You're still standing there?" You giggled, snapping him out of thought. "Is something wrong?" You cock a brow, "No, no." He shook his head. "I'm gonna get out of these clothes, when I come back don't be stone." You joked, Simon forced out a chuckle, that you obviously knew was a fake.

-

You laid on the couch Simon between your legs while you hum along to Barbara Streisand sing My Man.

oh my man, I love him so he'll never know

"How many times have you watched this?" He mumbled, voice muffled by your boobs. "Way too many." Your eyes never pulled away from the screen.

Oh, my life is just despair but I don't care

"Why's she crying?" He asked, "Simon shush." You placed you hand over his mouth. "I love this part." You mumble, "Why?" Simon whined. "Because I love this song," Simon rolled his eyes. "You just don't understand the lyricism." You pulled his hair, earning a quiet ow from him, "The lyrics are cheesy." He complained.

"It's because you've never been in love that way," You explain, "You're just shallow." You finished, Simon got up, "I'm not shallow." He said offended, "I wasn't trying to be mean," You chuckled, "but guys don't get it like women do."

"Sure. " He rolled his eyes, sitting back on the couch. "Here we go." You snorted, pausing the movie. "So now what?" You sit with your arms crossed, "Finish your movie." He says grabbing his phone. "You don't want to," You move closer to him, putting your legs over his thighs. "So when are you going tomorrow, so I can tell my other boyfriend to come over." You laughed.

"You wish you had another boyfriend." Simon teased, "I do, that way what you don't do, he will." You jested in return. "Ha, ha." Simon laughed sarcastically.

-

When you fell asleep Simon waited until you were deep in it, waiting for the perfect moment for him to go down stairs to grab the bags. He grabbed both of them, taking one out on your patio and hiding it in your gardening box, under all of your extra cleaning supplies. Hiding the other behind your washer and dryer.

He slipped back in bed laying next to you, "Why're you up?" You asked groggily, "I went to the bathroom." He assured you, "You smell like outside." You said mid-sleep. "I was on the patio taking a call." He lied. "Oh." You yawned. Simon kissed you forehead as you wondered back to sleep. Crossing his fingers hoping you don't find any of the bags these coming weeks.

#biker!simon #baddie!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon riley headcanons #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

any bonten headcanons? i just think seeing em all interact is fun

Oh definitely!!! Here are the ones I came up with!

Kakucho is the glue that holds this team together, whenever he takes a day off things become more chaotic.

Pretty much no one listens to Koko's presentations, Koko has a grudge against all of them because of this.

Mikey will sometimes just disappear, like they'll search everywhere for him but won't be able to find him. He always comes back though, the others suspect he has a hiding place somewhere.

Sanzu threatens to use his katana on the Haitani brother's after they tease him about something often.

Takeomi smokes more then he did before, he often says "I'm too old for this" too. 

Ran takes a lunch break everyday and refuses to be flexible with it, even if it's an emergency. *Ran calmly sipping coffee while everyone's fighting behind him*

Kakucho was the first to get his tattoo then everyone else just kinda copied him (Mikey's orders)

Mochi isn't caught up on any of the bonten drama, he has no idea what the Haitani's are talking about when they try to fill him in on the gossip.

There's a hole in the wall in one of their buildings where someone obviously punched it but no one has admitted to doing it so it's a mystery. 

They're so used to bad assassination attempts that they don't even phase them anymore.

The Haitani brother's insist on taking Kakucho out for dinner a lot (they baby him a bit)

Pretty much all of them have either taiyaki or dorayaki on hand to give to Mikey (it's considered a good idea to carry it in case he's in a bad mood)

One time during a fight, Sanzu accidentally grabbed a taiyaki from his pocket instead of his gun so he just threw the taiyaki at the guy.

Rindou enjoys interrogations a lot since if he gets to do them then he uses his joint locking technique to break their bones one at a time.

Koko has the nicest office

Ran secretly likes it when the police and media publish photos of them (he normally makes sure he looks perfect for this reason)

Sanzu and Kakucho have a rivalry going on (the Haitani brother's love to gossip about it)

The building has accidentally been set on fire at least 5 times

#why do i kinda wanna write about the hole in the wall one now and them trying to figure it out #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #bonten #tokyo revengers spoilers

[coolprettyleo]

my soul has changed? - will smith au

wc: 1.4k

tw: depression, suggestion of an ED, awkwardness? mean girl.

will smith x oc celebrini sister!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

april celebrini was in a point of her life where everything felt still. she was pretty sure she was suffering from depression and it was a cycle she didn't know how to get out of.

she would wake up, go to school, go to work, and then sleep. she was lucky if she fitted a meal in between that meant she had lost tons of weight.

she had been a pretty healthy teen, she played hockey up until high school alongside her brothers; but when the time came to play college hockey, she got no offers. contributing to her depression.

it was a sport she held so much love and dedication, she couldn't understand why she hadn't been good enough? I mean her brothers were good enough, they got college offers. macklin was even projected to go first overall, so why couldn't she?

those were thoughts that were constantly haunting her mind. if she found something to forget them they would flood back in, like if they wanted her to be a lifeless doll she had been feeling like.

her family had been really worried for her. she had finally seen her brothers after a year, at the NCCAA playoffs and it only caused them to worry more.

flashbacks

april knew that macklin and aiden were gonna bombard her with questions as soon as they were alone. they could hardly recognize her. growing up she was always a smiling person with a big personality and now she was about forty pounds lighter and was a ghost of the person she used to be.

"april what's going on" macklin said shutting the door behind him.

"what do you mean"

"cut the bullshit. I know your not okay, you barley answer my text anymore, what's wrong"

"it's nothing mack-"

"no it's not nothing, maybe I can fix it-

"you cant 'fix' it"

"and why not-"

"because I don't know what wrong with me!"

that had been about two weeks ago. she just didn't know what to tell her family. she really didn't understand why she had been feeling that way.

she was currently at work where she was a barista in a cute coffee shop. she honestly loved working there, she had got the job when she was in high school and had kept it till college. seeing as she didn’t move far away for college, choosing to stay close to her parents.

she often wondered if she might be happier if she moved away just like everyone else did, just like her brothers did. but it would always end in her telling herself; that it's not worth dwelling on.

it was currently six am and at this time of day there weren’t many customers. the cafe was always busy mid day when people were looking to find somewhere to study.

so she was surprised when she turned the open side around, to find a boy waiting outside to come in. a boy who looked a lot like will smith.

april wasn’t an idiot to hockey, she kept up with it a fairly good amount, so she would have to be living under a rock to not know the guy who dominated the ice at her brothers rivalry school.

that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like she didn’t know him.

he reached for the handle and took a look at her before turning as red as a tomato and blushing,

“hey, are you guys open?” he asked nervously, mentally slapping himself because he just saw her turn the sign around, to ‘open’

“uhm yeah I’ll be with you in a sec” she told him.

will couldn’t help but think her voice was cute. she had a rasp to it that made him want to give her everything she’s ever wanted.

april finished up, putting the coffee too brew and turned to the counter.

“okay! order when your ready”

“uhm. i actually never been here before… any recs?” he asked after a moment nervously scratching his neck.

“well I get a dirty chai, but considering my brothers hate it, you might hate it too… I guess you might like a frap?” she told him, a little too monotone.

“yeah okay” he told her again nervously. he found her to be breathtakingly beautiful.

he paid and stood back as she got to making the drink.

“you from here?” will asked hoping to make small talk.

“uhm kinda. I was born in Vancouver but moved here when my dad got a job”

will panicked. oh god was she still in highschool

april must of saw the worry on his face because she added,

“that was a couple years ago, im eighteen now” she said smiling at his face. something she didn’t do often anymore.

“oh, i’m eighteen too”

“oh yeah, what brings you to san jose, school?” she said innocently knowing very well he was drafted here and was most likely here to work on development.

“no. I”m came to meet with some people here. I go to boston college” he answered. april starting to not feel so bad because she saw he didn’t want to right away say he was a hockey player.

“far from home huh”

“yeah, i’m literally across the country from everything and everybody i’ve ever known” he told her wanting to slap himself. did she need to know that!?!

“i’m sorry. it’ll get easier” she said remembering her brother had been homesick too but utimatly started feeling better after some time-- as she handing him his drinks and gave him a sympathetic face.

“yeah i hope so, i should be moving here soon, if everything goes right” he said as he took a sip.

“hey this is good!” he said taking another sip as april smiled. something that will thought looked amazing on her.

april smiled at him remembering the fact her brothers liked that drink. boys were so typical

“i’m glad… and hey— if you ever need a friend in town my names april” she told him as she held her hand out to him to shake.

will starred at it for a moment before he quickly met her hand.

“will” he told the girl with a smile.

they were cut out of there moment when two customers walked in.

“I should get back to work. i’ll see you around will” she told him as he smiled a nodded and walked right out.

say something! ask for my number! do anything!

april felt really dumb after she basically just presented herself in a silver platter to the boy and he didn’t finish his part in asking for her number. he had definitely rejected her in the nicest way someone possibly could.

meanwhile will got into the Uber with a gitty feeling. she seemed really cool and having someone to hang out with other than his teammates was going to be so nice.

he was midway into the meeting with some general managers when he realized he didn’t even ask for her number.

“oh my god” he mumbled as he came to the realization

"i'm sorry?" one of the GM's said confused.

“uhh— I said I was excited to join the franchise!” he covered up, feeling like an idiot.

hopefully she was still there after the meeting.

the meeting had gone a little to long for his liking and as he raced down to the coffee shop he hoped she was working a long shift.

he opened the door to see a blonde girl who looked old but yet looked young, and a taller boy with curly hair working behind the counter.

“hi. is april working today?” he said breathlessly

the blonde eyed him for a moment before smirking,

“I don't recall an april ever working here...my name samantha though” she said with a face that will knew was a face of someone who was lying.

“yes there is, she helped me earlier-"

“if your here to file a complaint against her, I can totally help you then,” she said

“no she was great— wait, you said you didn’t know an april-“

“your looking for april” the other barista cut in

“yeah she was here earlier, i was hoping she was still here”

“she got off like two hours ago but i can give you her number!” the curly haired boy told will. he was one of aprils friends and he wasn’t going to ruin this opportunity for her.

“you totally can’t do that!” the blonde girl said in a nasally voice.

“shutup samantha. go take candy from a baby or something” he sassily told her.

she rolled her eyes before walking away to wipe a table down.

“sorry about her, here’s her number— good luck!”

“thankyou so much” he told him as he thought about what exactly to text the pretty girl.

both april and will not knowing the epic love story they were about embark on.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

hi guys! i hope this is kinda good, dont feel shy to send in ask and au thoughts… i like never get any but im so open to it!!

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #will smith hockey #bc hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #will smith hockey x reader #jacob fowler #bc eagles #will smith hockey x oc #will smith hockey imagine #april x will #gabe perreault x reader #nhl #hockey imagine

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?” 

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

[cherrycola27]

Red Wine, Fall into me

Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Smut. 18+ (Phoenix x Female Reader) banner by the wonderful @thedroneranger Fic inspired by the Chappell Roan song "Red Wine Supernova"

...........................................

You know they say not to waste a Friday night on a first date.

Yet, here you were, in a nice dress, walking into a cocktail bar, to meet some guy, from some app, on a Friday night for a first date. You'd spent a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair, makeup, and picking out the perfect outfit that was the right balance of "I'm a good girl," and "I just might let you take me home if you play your cards right."

You texted your date that you were there and that you'd be at the bar. You were there a few minutes before your agreed upon time, so you walked up to the bar top, which had a middle-aged couple at one end, and a pretty dark-haired brunette at the other.

You took a seat a few stools down from her and ordered a glass of merlot from the bartender. He sat it down quickly in front of you as you checked your phone to see if your date had responded to your text. You felt immediately defeated to see that it still had not been read.

A few minutes ticked by, and it was now the time you and your date had set to meet. You fired off another text asking if he was there, with no response. Several minutes later, you sent one asking if he was on his way and nothing. Finally, a full thirty minutes and a second glass of wine later, he sent you a message saying that something came up, and he wouldn't make it.

You huffed as you sat your phone down on the counter and groaned. Of course, this would happen to you. This was the last time you agreed to a date from an app.

You sighed and finished the last sip of wine in your glass and rummaged through your purse for your card. Before you could pull it out, though, you heard a soft voice speak. "Put her last two on my tab, and bring us another round if you don't mind."

You look up and see the pretty brunette from earlier handing her card over and taking a seat next to you. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that." You smile at her. "I know, but I want to." She smiles back at you, extending her hand for you to shake, "I'm Natasha, by the way. What's your name?"

You tell her your name, and she repeats it back, slowly, savoring every syllable of it like it's a fine wine. You don't think your name has ever sounded as good as it does coming out of her mouth.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?" She asks you. "I was supposed to have a date but—he stood me up." You sigh. "His loss is my gain then." Natasha says as she brings her own wine glass up to her lips. You blush at her words.

"What about you?" You fire back at her. "I just wanted a nice quiet night out, away from the crowds. Somewhere that I could relax and make a new—friend." She winks at you and slides her stool closer to yours.

"So, tell me about yourself." She says, and she rests her foot on the bottom of your stool. Your thighs part just enough to accommodate her toned leg that's exposed from the slit in her dress.

A shiver runs down your spine as you tell her about your job and some of your friends and what you like to do for fun. Her eyes stayed glued to yours, and she nods and questions and seems genuinely interested in you. "What about you?" You ask her when you finish.

"I'm in the Navy. I'm an aviator." She says as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

"Oh. So I guess you're used to going fast and doing what you want then." You smirk at her. "I can go fast." She says as she leans into your space. "But—" she sighs as she places her hand on your thigh. "—I actually have a partner in the backseat that I have to listen to, so I'm very good at taking directions. And, there are so many controls in the cockpit, that I have to be excellent with precision." She breathes out.

Natasha leans in closer to you. "I've always been amazing and zeroing in on my target and finishing the job. She whispers in your ear before pulling back. You swallow thickly and shift in your seat, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between your thighs and the heat that you feel in your belly that isn't from the wine.

"Is that so?" You say, cocking your head to the side. "Now, what exactly would one have to do if they want to see these skills in action?" You pry. "I think after a few glasses of wine and a dance or two, I might be convinced. Care to find out?" A crimson smile curls at her lips as she extends her hand to you.

You nod your head and slip your hand in hers. She places her palm on the small of your back, just a tad too low to be considered decent as she guides you to the dance floor. She presses closer to you to avoid the other people already there. You can smell her perfume. Floral and spicy with a hint of sweet. It is so intoxicating that it makes your head spin more than any glass of wine ever could.

Natasha drags you directly to the middle of the dance floor amongst all the other couples. She spins you around and presses your back to her front. There is absolutely no space between the two of you, and you can feel every soft curve of her body pressed against yours.

You sway to the beat of some song you don't know as her hands skim up and down your arms before resting on your hips. She pulls your hair over one of your shoulders and rests her chin on your newly exposed skin. You shiver as she places a gentle, fleeting kiss on your shoulder. You feel the blush in your cheeks spread all over your body.

"You okay there, pretty girl?" Natasha asks you. "Y—yeah." You stammer out. "Just a little warm is all."

"Why don't we go get some air." She whispers hotly in your ear. Her breathy voice has you weak in the knees. You nod your head in agreement, unable to trust your own voice.

It's quieter outside. So quiet you can hear your heartbeat racing in your ears as the two of you make your way to a secluded spot on the far side of the deck. The fresh salty air fills your lungs as you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You lean against the deck railing and watch the waves roll in as the moonlight dances across the dark ocean.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Natasha says as she comes to stand beside you. "It's breathtaking." You say as you turn to face her. "It's not the only breathtaking thing out here." She says, looking you directly in the eye. "No, it's not." You counter.

You inhale deeply as she takes a step forward and places on and on your hip, drawing you closer to her. She uses her free hand to brush a few stray strands of your hair away before cupping your face and pulling you closer to her.

Her lips are pillowy soft when they connect with yours. Her hand slides to the back of your hair, tangling in your locks to hold you in place. You wrap both of your arms around her neck as she trails her tonuge across the seam of your lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

You gladly grant her access, and you moan as her tongue caresses yours. The kiss is sweet, with the last drops of your wine still on each other's mouths.

You moan and lean into her when you feel her fingers dig into your hip. She takes a step closer and pushes your back against the metal deck rail, her lips never leaving yours as her kisses become more hungry, more demanding.

She pulls her mouth away from yours, and you gasp as she trails her perfect pout across your chin and jaw before grazing your ear lobe with her teeth. You inhale sharply, and it's like music to Natasha's ears.

She continues her assault, trying to draw even more new sounds from you. Her lips skim over the sensitive flesh of your neck. You find yourself arching towards her, silently begging her for more. You feel her smile against you before she carefully grazes her teeth over the sensitive flesh before pulling back and laving it with her tongue. She repeats the action and your hand tangles in her dark strands, holding her in place. She chuckles and continues to work the space between your shoulder and ear, surely leaving a few dark marks behind, but you don't care. You want her to mark you up—claim you as hers.

You draw her mouth back to yours and kiss her until you're breathless. She pulls back and her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are red.

"I don't normally do this, y'know." You confess to her.

"Neither do I." She tells you truthfully.

You heave a sigh of relief. "I don't think I've ever done this, actually. But there's something about you that's—magical." You say as you bite down on your lower lip and bat your eyes at her.

"If you think I'm magic here, you should let me take you home. I've got a wand and a rabbit that I can show you all kinds of tricks with." She smirks at you.

................

A few minutes later, the two of you are in the back of an Uber going to Natasha's place. Her hand rests brazenly on your upper thigh, and her nimble fingers are tracing deft patterns across your skin. You squim in your seat, trying to keep yourself calm, when really, all you want to do is plant yourself in her lap and kiss her again.

The two of you somehow make it up the small path that leads to her front door. She unlocks it and pulls you in. Once the door is shut and she's clicked the lock, she pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly. You meet her kisses with passion. Both sets of your hands roam over each other, desperately.

Natasha has enough sense to practically drag you into her bedroom. You stand there a little awkwardly until she comes up behind you and slowly unzips you dress. Her lips trace your spine, leaving faint, wine colored kisses from her leftover lipstick on your flesh.

The garment drops to the floor, and you turn around to face her. She admires how your nipples are peaked and perky with anticipation. The scrap of lace, that could barely be called underwear, that you chose to wear tonight has an obvious dark spot on it. "Such a shame you date didn't get to see this." Natasha breathes out as she lightly grazes the front of it.

You shiver, and she lets out a breathy laugh. You reach for her, catching her wrist and pulling her to you. Your hands reach for her zipper. "Fair is fair." You mumble against her lips as she lets you pull it down before tugging the fabric off of her.

"Lay dow for me, pretty girl." Natasha says when she's kicked her dress to the side and shimmied out of her underwear. You take a moment to take in her form as you slip if your own panties.

Her dark hair falls gracefully over her shoulders. Her breasts are perky and lovely. She has a neatly shaved landing strip that draws your eyes to where you most want to be.

You lay back on her bed, making yourself comfortable on her pillows. Your breathing is shallow as her eyes rake over you.

"You're so fucking beautiful." She says as she crawls towards you. Beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, beautiful. You love how she talks about you. How she makes you feel seen.

"Thank you." You say before you can even think about it. She laughs as she reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the wand and rabbit that she mentioned earlier.

She sets them to the side before gently straddling your hips. She leans down to kiss you. Slowly, this time, it's more deliberate and precise. The two of you let your hands roam over each other's body. She tweaks your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and your arch toward her touch.

Not to be outdone, you wrap your lips around one of her peaks, and she lets out a gorgeous breathy moan that has your heart racing. She whines when you release the flesh with a soft pop but groans and leans into you when you repeat the action on the other. She subtly grinds her hips against you, seeking friction to relieve the ache between her thighs. You grab her thighs and help guide her, and she hums before stopping and sliding off of you.

"Mmm, not yet beautiful. There will be time for that. Let me take care of you first." She smiles at you. You huff a little, but don't protest. Natasha trails her lips across your breasts and chest and down your stomach. She circles her tongue around your navel before placing a kiss on your cunt, right about your clit.

You sigh as you sink deeper into her pillows, inhaling more of her intoxicating scent from earlier. She carefully parts your thighs and slots herself between them.

She grabs your left leg, and feathers kisses up from your knee towards your center and back down, a few times before switching to the right. She's taking her time building you up. And just when you think you are going to burst from her teasing, she places a fleeting kiss on your clit. You squeal and rock your hips upward, chasing her mouth.

She does it again, gently parting your folds with the delicate tip of her tongue, circling the sensitive bud and sucking it into her mouth.

She laps at your core, drinking in the taste of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Wanton moans leave your mouth, and your chest heaves. One of your hands tightly fists her sheets, the other curling on her hair to hold her right where you want her. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back as pure ecstacy washes over you when you cum.

Natasha works you through it until you push her head away. You lean up on your elbows and meet her eyes. She has a satisfied grin on her face. "How was that?" She asks almost cockily.

"Fantastic." You reply breathlessly. "I'm not done with you yet." She tells you as she reaches for her wand. You swallow and spread your legs for her.

She turns it on a low setting and starts by rubbing it over your nipples and down your body to get you used to the sensation. Slowly, she lowers it to your clit. You jump, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you relax as she circles it around you bundle of nerves.

You feel one of her slender fingers circle around your entrance. "So fucking wet. All this for me, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes." You breathe out. You're jilted by a smack to your cunt. "Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who's got you like this? Who got your pretty pussy absolutely dripping?" She commands.

"You—you did, Natasha. It's all for you." You babble out. She's satisfied with your answer and rewards you by sinking not one, but two of her long digits inside you and curling them upwards. You cry out her name as she finds your gspot impossibly fast. It should be a crime at how well she already knows your body as she strokes it with the perfect amount of speed and pressure.

She gages each sound you make and adjusts the wand on your clit and her fingers in your cunt. You have to give it to her, she wasn't lying when she said she could take directions.

Your head thrashes from side to side, and you're babbling out her name as she brings you closer to a second orgasm. Your toes curl against the mattress and you bite your bottom lip in an effort to keep your sounds at bay.

Natasha immediately tells you to be loud for her, and you're too for gone, and she has you so damn pliant that you'd do anything for her right now. So you release your lip and scream her name as you cum, gripping her fingers tightly, never wanting them to leave you.

When she does pull them out, you whine at the loss of contact, but it's short lived, because Natasha is crawling up your body and tapping her fingers on your lips.

You obediently open your mouth and close them around her digits, dutifully cleaning them for her. You groan at the taste of you on her hands. Once you've cleaned her, you pull off with a pop and kiss her. Your tongues meld together as you pull her onto of you.

You cradle her head and hook your legs around her waist and flip her under you. "Mine turn." You giggled as she looks up at you, bewildered. "Okay, then." She smiles down at you.

You cup each of her breasts in your hands and roll her nipples between your fingers. She lets out a small gasp as you kiss the tops of her breasts and the valley between them before continuing your journey south. You leave wet kisses across her hip bones and suck a dark mark into her right one, a little reminder of you for later.

You don't tease her like she teased you. You're too impatient. You've been dreaming about what she tasted like ever since you watched her bring that first glass of red wine to her lips this evening.

You tenderly part of folds before licking a long, broad stripe from her opening to her clit.

Natasha arches up off the bed, her hands flying to the sheets, clutching them for dear life. You repeated the motion over again before hooking one of her thighs over your shoulder. She's much more squirmy than you expected.

You work her over and over, tongue diving into her her sopping wet opening, nose bumping her clit.

She cries out your name, fingers in your hair, as you blindly reach for her other toy from earlier. You silently cheer as your hand wraps around her rabbit vibrator.

You turn it on and pull your mouth away from her. Natasha groans at the loss of contact but whimpers when she feels the tip of the vibe at her entrance. You push it in slowly until it is fully seated in her tight, wet, perfect cut.

She lets out a shaky breath as you slowly withdraw the toy and push it back it. You repeat the motion, picking up speed with each thrust. Soon, her hips are meeting it, and the sounds of lewd, wet fucking mixed with cries of your name are bouncing off her walls.

"Guess you had a few tricks up your sleeve, too." She laughs and rolls on top of you and sits up she slides down your body until you can feel her warm pussy right above yours.

Her walls grip the toy tightly, and her voice rises in pitch as she cums hard for you, back arching so hard that you're afraid she might hurt herself. "Fucking magical," you praise her as she comes down from her high. You slide up beside her on the bed. She's panting, trying to catch her breath.

"Think you have one more in you, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes, ma'am." You reply. She smiles at you before drawing you up to her lips.

She kisses you tenderly, rocking your hips together, creating a delicious friction between your clits. Your previous orgasms have both of you so wet, that you glide along each other with ease.

Your fingers dig into her thighs as you help guide her, pulling her tighter against you. You feel that familiar coil curling deep into your belly, and your head drops to her shoulder as you roll your hips to meet hers.

Natasha wraps a hand around your throat and draws you back to her. There is a glassy look of pleasure in her eyes, but she squeezes just enough to let you know that she's still in charge. "Cum with me." It's not a request, it's a demand, and who are you to deny her when she's making you feel so good?

You cum together. It's hard and messy and absolutely the most amazing feeling you've ever had. You collapse on the bed, and Natasha falls into you, both utterly spent.

Sometime later, when you can both feel your legs, the two of you make your way to the shower. After cleaning each other, you help her change the sheets, and the two of you get tangled in each other's arms and fall asleep.

..............

Six weeks later, you're slipping your hand into Natasha's as you follow her into the Hard Deck on a Friday night. This time, you're not meeting some guy from some app that you deleted ages ago. Instead, your girlfriend is introducing you to her coworkers.

You had already met Bob, her backseater, a few weeks ago because he insisted on meeting you because Nat, or Phoenix as she was known to her friends, couldn't stop talking about you.

Natasha quickly got the two of you a beer before weaving through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

She takes her time introducing you to each one of them. You smile and wave and try not to be awkward.

"Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix." A male voice draws out. You turn, and you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. "Bagman." Natasha replies flatly. "Always a pleasure, Nix, but what I want to know is who is your friend?" The tall blonde asks.

"This is my girlfriend, jackass, so don't get any ideas." Nat says. "Babe, this is—"

"Jake. Right?" You say cutting her off. "Yeah? How did you know that?" She looks at you with a questioning glance. Jake looks at you equally, confused, trying to decide if you're familiar or not.

"Remember my date that stood me up a few weeks ago, the night we met?" You ask her.

"No. You're kidding." Nat smiles before belting out a laugh. Suddenly Jake's eyes go wide as he connects the dots on who you are.

"Son of a bitch, Bagman, I think I owe you a drink." Nat laughs as you and her other friends join in. Jake's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Nat wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "But seriously, Jake. Thank you for being a dick. If you hadn't stood her up, I might not have met this amazing woman. Seriously, I owe you one." Natasha smiles at him before pulling you in for a kiss.

............

Eeeekkk! I hope yall enjoyed this! This was my first time writing for Nat! Let me know what you think with a comment or reblog!

Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @mak-32 @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @withahappyrefrain

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix smut #lt. natasha trace #natasha trace #natasha trace smut #tgm smut #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #top gun 2 #red wine fall into me

[kitchenisking]

Day 3

The Pot Of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: T, Words: 8,881, sterek)

Stiles meets his first Hale when he's seven, and the most important Stilinski-Hale twenty years later.

~

In which Derek's family meets the love of his life years before he does, but Derek still gets the better end of the bargain.

As You Lay Dying by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,360, sterek)

Seven excruciatingly long days since Mexico: Take Two, and Stiles still couldn't get the sound of Derek's breath rattling wetly in his lungs out of his head. He heard it in his sleep, over the the pounding rain and the sound of Malia breathing softly beside him. He heard it when he was wide awake, over the din of crowded hallways and classrooms, cutting through the noise of the last lacrosse game of the season and the bustle of the locker room.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours, give or take, and Stiles had yet to wipe the sight of a bloodied and dying Derek from behind his eyelids. He saw it with every blink and sometimes even when his eyes were open and each time it made his chest feel like it was caving in.

Soulsick by theroguesgambit - (Rating: T, Words: 3,476, sterek)

Derek loathes this idiot of a soulmate, whoever they are. For not coming to Stiles’ call, for being too useless do just to this one simple thing, for failing Stiles, proving how utterly unworthy they are before they’ve ever met him. -- Stiles is cursed with a disease that will eventually destroy his soul unless his soulmate helps strengthen it. The pack performs a ritual to call his soulmate to his side. But days pass and no one appears... 

Maybe they're already here?

Making love is how we'll pray by lanalua - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,742, sterek)

Stiles and Derek perform a ritual in the woods.

In a Moment of Vulnerability by cloudsarefluffy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 87,097, sterek)

While in New York City to visit his aspiring and success-hungry friend Scott, who left for an internship he fought for over several years ago, Stiles runs into an alpha with a devilish reputation and a dark, tantalizing look that precedes him. Couple that with horny loneliness and failed suppressants, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a one-night stand that will set the bar forever.

But what if forever isn’t something that the one person you’ve given yourself to wants? What if a forever is somehow growing inside of you after a few months pass and a planned heat is missed? What if you don’t know what to do and there’s only so much chocolate that can soothe an aching heart before you feel like you've got morning sickness all over again?

This is a story about how Stiles loses his virginity alongside himself, and somehow, he manages to find something he never thought he’d ever have along the way.

Looking forward by Smowkie - (Rating: T, Words: 6,953, sterek)

Derek’s cabin was small. Tiny, even. He liked it, sometimes he missed having a big house, like the one he had grown up in, but the cabin was good, comfortable, and he, well, it was somewhere to hide, somewhere no one would find him. Somewhere no one would bother him.

He was happy, though, sort of. Happier than in a long time, he had a comfortable little home, lots of land he could run on—and he did, shifted to his full wolf form and ran for hours, it was wonderful—and his life wasn’t bad at all.

Then one day, the 21st of December on his second year living there, Stiles came to visit.

Written for the prompt cuddles in a power outage.

I Want You to be Happy by lvmehtme - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,851, sterek)

Stiles' dad has finally founds someone and the way he looks at her like she hung the moon and the joy in his every smile after all these years is worth everything that she does to him in the dead of night when no one's looking.

I'm giving everyone a fair warning right now, there's statutory rape and psychological trauma in this fic. It ends happy, but it does get graphic. Please proceed with care.

loyalty. courage. integrity. by redhoodedwolf - (Rating: G, Words: 707, sterek)

“Derek what the fuck!”

“Hard first day?” Derek guessed. He pushed himself forward and extended a hand towards Stiles. “You can vent, I have time to listen.”

Little Kid Crush by orphan_account - (Rating: T, Words: 5,052, sterek)

“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.

“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.

“Tiles?” Derek repeats.

“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.

Witches Wrath by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,063, sterek)

Derek is cursed by witches giving him a hard problem. Nothing works, not cold showers, not his hand. He goes to Stiles for help, and the great friend he is Stiles won't turn him away.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs