#much less where HE started and where HE is now

[ibtisams]

The student protests for Palestine have been an amazing show of solidarity and support and seeing the way that so many young people are willing to stand up for their values is admirable when so many others stay silent. But this is all to say that we are entering a pattern of glorifying these white “martyrs” from the global west to put all of this effort and resources and media coverage into instead of the actual cause they are fighting for.

I saw the same thing happen with Aaron Bushnell, when his self immolation was being talked about more than the actual genocide in Gaza (which went against everything he said he was self immolating for in the first place).

And again this happened with the prisoner from the US who worked 136 hours just to be able to donate his $17 check to Palestine aid efforts. In response to this, people wanted to help him and ended up raising over $100,000 in a gofundme for him. This feels almost satirical, as every gofundme to help Gazans evacuate Palestine and get to safety has a goal of less than $100,000 and most of them are not even close to reaching it.

And now, there are more and more posts on how to get aid to the college student encampments, and the “urgency” of getting enough bail funds for the students who have been arrested during them. Talking about Palestine itself and getting resources to Palestine has almost been put on the back burner in favour of making all Palestine related news about college students in the United States.

It think it is valuable to recognise the selflessness and importance of these protests, and getting these students resources but what is MORE important, and what these people are truly fighting for, and protesting, and make a statement about is PALESTINE. We have unsurprisingly reached the point where there are people who care much more about the white people fighting for the cause from the comfort of living in the global west than they care about the Palestinians undergoing a genocide in Gaza. It’s become almost blatant racism, the way people begin to drop everything the second a white/usamerican person does something in regards to helping Palestine, but will not put the same effort into a Palestinian IN Gaza who is telling their story or asking for help. I respect anyone who has done absolutely anything to help Palestine, but I hope people are starting to see the pattern of how the media gravitates towards the “white saviour/perfect martyr” instead of the first hand accounts coming from those in Gaza.

Anyway FIND A GOFUNDME AND DONATE TO HELP FAMILIES IN GAZA ESCAPE GENOCIDE

#if you read all of this thanks #if you read all of this and didn’t unfollow me thanks x2 #👍

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

#NOBODY SPEAK TO ME UNTIL I’VE HAD MY MORNING COFFEE #AND BY MORNING COFFEE I MEAN THIS MAN’S LOAD IN MY MOUTH #PREFERABLY FOLLOWED BY AN OLD FASHIONED #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

[luveline]

Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?

pregnant!reader, 1k

Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 

There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 

“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  

When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.

“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 

Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 

“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 

“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 

“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 

“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 

“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 

Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 

Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 

“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 

“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 

You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 

“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 

Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 

You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”

“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 

“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 

“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 

“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 

“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 

“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 

“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 

He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 

“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 

Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 

Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 

“Aaron,” you murmur. 

He nods into Jack’s hair. 

“You are happy, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 

You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 

Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”

“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 

“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 

“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 

“No way!” 

“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 

He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 

Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[gay-dorito-dust]

You may request A batboys reacting to the death of the reader

First time writing for Tim, so he’s probs ooc in this one.

Dick feels as though he’s failed you.

He tries to act like he was fine but he was far from it and everyone knew it as they stepped on eggshells with him during this time.

Dick would often find himself sat on the very rooftops where he’d take you on countless dates or just to star gaze and talk as though you were still with him.

It was his own way of comforting himself with your loss but that was never enough to stop the tears that fell from his eyes when he spotted a bright star he’s never seen before until now, and laughs humourlessly.

‘I see you’ve finally made your way amongst the stars huh sweetheart?’ He’d say as your star would twinkle in response, making him chuckle. ‘You’re so beautiful, the brightest of your kind.’ He adds sombrely as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as he felt his heart sing out for you, only to receive nothing in return.

Reality was often disappointing but with you it was a fairy tale.

Waking up to you was a dream within itself and getting to do mundane things with you before heading off to work was something that could only exist in a daydream.

He knew Hayley misses you as badly as he does with how he’d hear the poor dog whine and whimper at the door, as if waiting for you to walk through it and tackle her with kisses and love like you always did, only to get nothing for hours.

‘I know, I miss them too.’ He says against Hayley’s fur as she whimpers and whines at the door. ‘I miss them so fucking much it hurts.’ He adds as he allows himself to mourn for you alongside his dog long into the night.

Jason blames himself for not being fast enough or strong enough to keep you protected and safe.

The apartment you once shared with him that only recently had started to feel like home to him now felt cold and haunted with the ghost of you, so much so to the point he avoids it at all cost.

Nothing felt right without you, everything felt wrong and unjustified that he became more ruthless then before on patrols just to let off some steam and would come back from them more beaten and bruised then normal.

He didn’t care, he couldn’t feel anything anymore with how numb he became after loosing you.

Dick and Roy would stop by to see how he was doing but each visit was the same with Jason refusing his older brother and best friend entry as he held one of your plushies tightly against his chest. He knows they mean well but he just couldn’t find it within himself to hear the same thing he’s heard from everyone else; It just felt disingenuous after a while and didn’t feel as though people truly understood the impact that you had on him throughout your time together.

Jason would become more destructive with himself and going headfirst into danger without a second thought and damns his teammates for dragging him out by the scruff of his neck as he fights and kicks out of their hold. He doesn’t want to be saved! He just wanted to be with you again, why couldn’t they see that?!

After loosing you Jason becomes more prone to angry outbursts and often lets them out on the wrong person but he couldn’t care less at this point, his favourite person was gone and he was left back where he was before you.

Lost and deeply afraid.

Tim would retreat from everyone and everything by cooping himself into his room, rarely to come out.

He’d rather rot in his bed and on his phone, looking through all the photos you’ve taken together and seeing just how happy you both were, all the while a pit in his stomach grew at the thought of all the plans you’ve made but would never get to do.

He hated how easily he gave you his heart and hated it even more at just how easy it was to loose you that he wishes that he could stop himself from meeting you for the first time, just so he could selfishly save himself from the best moments of his life and the inevitable heartbreak he’d soon suffer.

Tim would do anything in his power to get you back but knew that it just wasn’t possible.

He knew Jason was given life by the Lazarus pit but he wasn’t willing to subject you to that even if he was held at gunpoint. He’d rather you rest in peace than force you to live with the knowledge that you should technically be dead.

Tim would remain in his room, wondering about the what ifs and the what could’ve beens if you hadn’t died. Would someone have taken your place? Was your death an unchangeable fixed point in time that was meant to happen?

He would only be reunited with you in his dreams where he has saved you and you had gotten to live out the rest of your life happily, rather then left for dead in an alleyway not too far from the place where you were originally going to meet up for date night.

Damian dedicated his life to getting revenge.

He had lost the light in his life, so why should he think his adversaries should live when you weren’t even given the option?

There will be more bodies pilling up on the streets of Gotham at a faster rate than normal whenever Damian is on patrol, much to Bruce’s dismay.

His anger and grief was all consuming and that left little to no room for logic to make him stop and see what he was doing was no better than the thing that took you away.

Life was black and white for a long time for Damian and you were the colour.

You were the air he breathed and without you he was gasping.

He knew about the Lazarus pit in his grandfather’s possession and its mythical properties and how it gave Jason a second chance at life. However he was at a cross roads on using it for his own selfish gain, on one hand he could have you back and everything would be fine again, but on the other hand you wouldn’t be the version of you he fell in love with…

Damian didn’t know what to do. The grief, the anger, the sadness…it was all too much for him. He felt as though he apart of him was missing and he would never get it back, it just wasn’t possible.

Bruce feels as though nothing has changed since his parents death.

He may be older, faster, stronger and wiser but that didn’t mean nothing in the face of death, and your death only proved that to be true as he held you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he quietly sobs into your cold neck.

Much like Tim, Bruce doesn’t take care of himself anymore and it was up to Alfred to make sure that he doesn’t keep over and die unexpectedly.

‘They wouldn’t want this for you sir.’ Alfred would say as Bruce slams his hands down on the surface of his desk. ‘And what would you know that they want for me Alfred, y/n’s dead and it’s my fault.’ He would bark and bare his teeth at the only father figure he had in his life, a father figure whom has seen this expression bore on the young master’s face more times then he could count, but it still hurt him to see Bruce in pain and heartbreak.

‘They would want you to take care of yourself, sleep proper hours, eat full meals, shower, reach out to anyone,’ Alfred began to walk towards Bruce and place a hand on his shoulder, where he could practically feel the unbridled anger and pain radiation through him that he kept under control. ‘They wouldn’t want you to wallow in pain alone, Gotham needs you.’

‘And I needed them.’ Bruce replied sharply, aggressively wiping his eyes with his hand as he looks over at a framed picture of you that he always kept nearby. ‘All I wanted was them.’ He adds softly this time as he looks at Alfred, lost and confused at what to do now that his anchor was gone. ‘I miss them so much Alfred.’

Alfred brings Bruce into his arms, much like he did when he lost his parents, when he lost Jason and now you, allowing him to burrow his face into the Butler’s shoulder and softly sob into the fabric. Alfred felt his heart break even more as he rubbed Bruce’s back in an attempt of bringing him comfort. ‘I know master Bruce, I know, but you’d be doing their memory a great disservice by destroying yourself.’ The older man started as he looked over at the framed picture of you and smiled soberly, you were a beacon to Bruce and Alfred wasn’t afraid to say that he viewed you as his in law with how happy you made Bruce and that was all Alfred could ever want for him.

Now that you were gone, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the manor got just that little bit lonelier without you.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake imagines #tim drake x you #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne imagines

[evie-sturns]

you want to? - matt sturniolo

summary: when you ask your classmate matt for a ride home after school, you find out hes a virgin, how could you not offer to change that?

contains: smut, semi-sub!matt, virgin!matt, swearing.

--------------------└── •✧• ──┘------------——-

the deafening bell rings throughout my math classroom, signalling the end of the day. i look down at my phone which reads 3:00pm, i instantly start to pack up my books more than ready to leave.

i watch the brunette boy to my left swing his bag over his shoulders, he doesn't say much but i'm pretty sure his names matt, i'm quite close with his brother nick but i've never got to know him personally.

i follow close behind him as he walks through the hallway.

we exit through the doors of the school, i decide to make my move now, needing a desperate ride home.

"uh- matt!" i call out walking up beside him, he looks over at me fixing the frame of his dark brown glasses.

"yeah?" he replies softly,

it shouldn't be wrong of me to ask for a ride, i've seen him briefly while i've been round at nicks house, and we got paired up for a group project in 9th grade where i spoke to him for a week.

"this is like- really random but do you mind giving me a ride home, i think my house is just down the street to yours and my car broke down this morning." i ramble

"oh- yeah, okay- thats fine." he says nervously "thank you so much" i let out a sigh of relief.

matt and i walk in silence to his car, his lips are red from where hes been biting them.

he opens the door for me, i jump in the passenger seat. the whole car is clean except for a camera battery and an empty mcdonald's cup.

he jumps in as well, "sorry if this is an inconvenience, i'll venmo you gas money and extra." i say.

"no- don't worry about it, it's fine." matt instantly replies.

i decide to start up a conversation, not wanting to sit in silence for the whole 20 minute ride.

"hows nick?" i ask, "hes okay, i think hes just weirded out about the whole audrey situation."

audrey is nick's best friend, who recently became hated at our school for sleeping with a whole friend group then lying to everyone and saying they made her do it.

"oh yeah!? she fucked that whole group of guys oh god." i exclaim, causing matt to tense up, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight.

"you okay? sorry- do you know audrey"

he shakes his head "i don't know her."

"oh you just went tense about the audrey fucking." i repeat, he laughs slightly, the tips of his ears go red.

"have you never had sex?" i ask, my head spinning round to look at him.

his cheeks go a deep red, he takes a hand off the wheel to rubs his eye under his glasses.

"i- yeah- no.. i dont know" he mutters, "you don't know if you've had sex?" i smile,

"i don't know- no" he says awkwardly with a grin.

"oh, thats fine!" i reply,

"you want to?" i continue, matt goes silent. i instantly regret my words, i didn't mean to make matt uncomfortable but it was just a genuine question.

"sorry." i instantly follow my words up, my tone less.. loud.

"yeah, i think i do" matt almost whispers as though he can't get any louder.

i nod my head understandingly , "you got anyone you want to loose it to, or not really?"

matt seems to grow a little more comfortable, his deathly grip on the wheel loosening

"i can't say" he laughs slightly "i mean i'm almost 18 and both my brothers won't stop yapping about their hook ups." he sighs

"do you want to.. with me?" i ask quietly, the words leaving my mouth before i can process

"but only if you want-" i instantly say after.

his head snaps round to look at me, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. "you- what" he smiles slightly, his eyebrows twisting as his cheeks flush

i stay silent, maintaining eye contact for a couple seconds.

"yeah, okay thank you" his says breathlessly, looking back to the road

"you can uh- come back to my house, nick and chris are at hockey and my parents are away for 2 weeks." matt says, trying to sound confident.

i nod, "yeah okay!"

-

3:42pm

matt pulls into his driveway, we've been having small talk for the past 5 minutes the rest of the way.

i open the door to his car, stepping out onto the concrete. i follow matt inside his house, i'm more than used to being in his house, execpt its usually with nick to hang out, not with his triplet brother to hook up.

i take his hand, he guides us upstairs into his bedroom. i lock the wooden door behind us.

"so uh, where do we start?" matt laughs nervously, reaching a hand up and scratching the side of his head.

i get on my tip-toes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. he hesitates for a second before kissing me back.

it quickly turns into a makeout, i push him back onto the bed before straddling him.

i grind against the fabric of his jeans, matt lets out a pathetic whimper against my lips clearly sensitive.

i pull away for a second to pull my shirt up over my head, revealing the pink lace of my bra. matt shamelessly stares at my tits, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

after a solid 25 seconds of staring he pulls his navy blue crewneck off over his head, his middle part flopping on his forehead.

his breathing picks up as i unclasp my bra, letting it fall down onto his chest. i instantly feel a bulge feel underneath me, his face growing red.

i fix his glasses on his face lingering my fingers on his skin for longer than needed, "oh my god" i hear him whisper under his breath, i shift off his lap onto the floor, matt sits on the edge of the bed.

i fidget with the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans before unbuttoning the button of his jeans and shimmying the fabric down his thighs.

i don't waste time to yank down his boxers, his erection springs out. matt's tip is slightly more red than his lips, now begging to be touched.

"you ready sweetheart?" i ask him, dragging my nails up and down his thighs.

"yeah- yes please." he nods, i wrap my hand around his length and pumping slowly, i look up at him and his head falls back "fuck.." he groans as i wrap my lips around his tip.

i circle my tongue just around his tip teasingly but it seems to be enough for matt already.

i slowly take more of him in my mouth, taking most of his dick down my throat.

"oh my god oh my god-" matt whimpers as i bob my head up and down,

my pace quickens everytime matt makes noise, only driving me to take more of him. i feel him twitch, meaning he's close already.

after matt bucks his hips up i pull off of him, edging him. "please" matt starts but i cut him off "don't want you to cum yet, don't wanna overstimulate you okay?"

he nods, i get up off the floor to straddle the top of his thighs again, his dick resting against my lower stomach.

"tell me what you want matt." i say, fixing his hair which rests against the glass of his glasses. "please?" matt whispers.

"please what." i tease, kneeling on either side of his legs and pulling down my shorts and panties in one tug. "ride me.." he says shyly. i smile before hovering myself above his tip, slowly sinking down onto his tip.

"oh my god" he groans, i let out a soft groan as i sink further down his length, i grab his wrists and place his ringed hands on my waist instead of him balling up the sheet.

"feels so good" he mumbles shakily, i start to bounce slowly up and down on his dick.

i let out strings of moans as his grip tightens on my waist "please please-" he whines, i start to pick up my pace.

"matt- you wanna try being on top?" i ask quickly, he hesitates before nodding his head eagerly.

he flips us over impressively easily, "grab my ankles" i tell him which he does, his two large hands grabbing my ankles and pushing them down by my ears, i nod.

he starts to thrust into me, matt's middle part flops on his head, his glasses shifting.

"fuck- 'm so close" he groans "you got it matt" i breathe out

matt pulls out, instantly releasing on my stomach as his glasses fall off, landing on my chest.

he flops down next to me on the bed panting, his arms laying across his forehead.

i scoot closer to matt's side, "you okay?" i ask, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, a small smile forming on his face.

"you don't understand how long i've wanted that with you." he laughs slightly, "with me?" i reply, my eyes widening slightly

"yeah- i don't know." he sits up, rubbing his eyes. i sit up next to him, grabbing his glasses off my chest and holding them up

i slide the glasses onto his face, his cheeks still flushed

"we should do this again sometime" he suggests awkwardly,

"good idea matt" i smile, pressing a quick kiss to his red lips.

---------------------------------

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

#puck-luck's fics #luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #lh43 #andy writes anything🍄

[deus-sema]

My two cents on Shogun finale with spoilers:

I think the way this finale was handled can be used as a fine example of how to subvert expectations in the *right* manner. This is not the kind of ending that would make us go WTF after momentary shock value only to disappoint us terribly but an ending which might not be what I - as a show only fan had predicted - but one which makes sense in the longer run like all the pieces of a puzzle falling into place to make a beautiful picture.

The actual event of the battle matters not as much as the actions of the people involved who contributed to its occurrence and affected its results. The wheels of fate are already in motion. We know that, come what may, Toranaga shall prevail. But that is a tale for another day. The one which we have been following until now was about Toranaga fighting against all odds and carefully setting the stage in order to achieve his dream, about Blackthorne who started his journey as an outsider in a foreign and hostile land with less than noble intentions finding a home in that place and about Mariko who patiently strived to fulfill her destined purpose and add meaning to her existence. And so she did. For even after her death, her presence was imbued in almost every scene leaving an everlasting impact on them.

The misleading opening of the episode with an aged Blackthorne who seemed to be back in England reminiscing about his days at Osaka clinging onto Mariko's crucifix was done in a clever manner. I was momentarily led to believe that Blackthorne might get to sail home afterall and I failed to understand why they would do that. But the lines between what was a fleeting dream and reality became abundantly clear when I witnessed Blackthorne letting go of Mariko's crucifix into the oceans. Mariko had become one with her homeland and by living there forever, Blackthorne had become one with her.

The writing of Shogun also shows us how one can make significant changes to certain characters and their relationships that differ from the source material and handle them wisely while adapting a story which is linked to the actions of its key players. Mariko's friendship with Ochiba and Ochiba's regard for her paid off because her death led Ochiba to withdraw her support for Ishido, even if she wasn't going to ally with Toranaga. This particular change from the books affected the plot and in a meaningful way. It's an achievement which certain other adaptations that introduce drastic changes without any regard for the overarching plot cannot boast of.

As a MariThorne shipper, I was left satisfied albeit in a bittersweet sense because while John had lost Mariko, his love for her still persisted. It was heartbreaking but this is a tragedy well done. One that I would remember forever. The last scene was oddly satisfying because, even if he doesn't know it yet, Blackthorne is exactly where he belongs now.

The acting was stellar as usual. Cosmo Jarvis and Tadanobu Asano deserve a special mention for this episode while Hiroyuki Sanada never disappoints. I'm grateful to the entire team of Shogun for delivering a show that I enjoyed wholeheartedly until the very end. And off I go to read the book next.

#shogun fx #shogun #yoshii toranaga #toda mariko #john blackthorne #anna sawai #hiroyuki sanada #cosmo jarvis #shogun ep 10

[norrizzandpia]

hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piasstri #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 #op #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 x you #op81 smut #op81 angst

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 5

Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader

Summary: Now in the Spring Court, you arrive at the ball. Fancy dinners, and suitors, await…but where was Azriel?

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma. (Brief)

Ageless and Minors DNI

part one, part two, part three, part four.

Masterlist

Requests are open!!

a/n: Before starting!! I based a lot of the balls and stuff off of Bridgerton/ Regency era stuff because, well - that's a lot of what I know! Plus, Prythian seems to be old-fashioned still in that kinda way. Also! You're referred to a 'lean' once. That's most because of how SJM describes the Fae having longer limbs and such. I didn't know a better way to word it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Stepping Foot into the Spring Court was like seeing a real life fairy tale. Lush green grass, stretched for miles. Tree and flowers in full bloom, like they never withered in the first place. Flowers that would have made Elain jealous, blooming along. The air was warm, but a gentle breeze helped keep you cool. It was perfect.

And flying with Arizel was even more perfect. His strong, sturdy arms kept you close. You could feel his strong, powerful wings with every flap. His back tightening and loosening like a well oiled machine. You were jealous of his ability to fly. Especially in lands like these. "Hold on, y/n." His voice was gentle, it was a request. If you didn't hold on, you suspected it make him hold onto you tighter. But you obliged. Wrapping your arms around his neck as you began your descent. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle when Azriel got hit in the face by a petal. The small flower clung to his nose, and you quickly helped him out.

"The flowers like you, Azzy." You tease as he lands gracefully on the ground. He was still holding you as he took a couple steps forward to help ease the impact. Azriel rolled his eyes, but you saw the ghost of a smile. You watched the others land as well, Rhys and Feyre doing so with grace. Cassian and Nesta... a loud thunderous sneeze made their descent less graceful. Cassian tucked Nesta into his wings as they rolled onto the ground. "We're okay!" Cassian said quickly getting up, then helping Nesta with ease. Your oldest sister looked at him with a heavy sigh. "Take the medicine Madja gave you right now." She commands. Cassian pouts as he pulls it out and takes a swig.

Azriel, much to your dismay, gently sets you down. But stays close, his hands hovering over your arms in case you fell. But you give a small reassuring smile to him before you look over to Rhysand. "What now?" Rhys is about to answer when you hear footsteps. Looking over, you spot none other than Tamlin. His smile is gentle, and he looks at Rhys and Feyre with a longing you understood far too well. Rhys pulls Feyre closer as he nods at Tamlin. "You look well, so does your Court." Rhys says cordially. You feel a cooling sensation at your feet, Azriel's shadows. Ready to push you away out of danger at a moment's notice. Reaching behind you, you take his hand to give a squeeze. The small action seems to ease Azriel.

Tamlin nods at Rhys. "It was hard, but now it is flourishing." He says evenly, "I took...advice from your Court." Rhysand seems to be shocked, but not angry at that. He smiles as he nods at the other High Lord.

"I'm glad to be able to see it." Rhys says. His hand still holding Feyre's tightly, trying to keep her calm in the face of her ex. But your sister remains strong, unbothered. Tamlin's attention turns to her, and he gives a small smile. "Feyre. You look well."

"As do you, Tamlin." She says coolly. Tamlin smiles and then clears his throat. "I met your son. Amern and Mor are here - waiting for you, where the Summer Court will be staying. He looks just like Rhys, I'm sorry." And you realize that the High Lord of Spring is trying to joke. It seems to catch everyone off guard, making you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

Rhys chuckles first, "Glad to see you've got your humor back, Tamlin." He says with a smile. Relief washes over Tamlin's face as Rhysand speaks. Then he lets his stunningly emerald eyes land on you. Rhysand had told you, before coming here, not to bow to anyone. You shouldn't be lesser than anyone. Bowing wasn't needed when the High Lord and Lady were your brother-in-law and sister. So you kept your head held high. And swore you could feel Azriel's pride swelling behind you. The hand that still held his received a gentle squeeze.

"And this must be Y/n Archeron." Tamlin greets, putting a hand to his chest and bowing his head. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He steps forward, and you feel the shadows coil tighter around your ankles, offering his hand. You gingerly place your hand in his as he lifts it and presses a kiss to it. Watching you the whole time. And you can't help but let your cheeks flush.

Until Feyre claws at your mind, showing you images of his temper. You shoot her a glare. "I suppose you lot must be tired after flying here. I'll allow Varian to come get you and escort you back." His eyes land on yours again, giving you a coy smile. "I shall like a dance later at the ball, Y/n Archeron."

Your cheeks heat again at the formality of it all. But you give your head a quick nod. "I shall save room on my dance card for you." You almost swore you could feel Azriel stiffen behind you. The shadows around your ankles growing colder.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Varian arrived shortly after Tamlin left, and brought you back to the nice little manor you'd all be staying in. Little, might have been the wrong word. The floors were oak through each room. The walls were a rich cream color, but didn't lack life. They have paintings of flowers, animals, a waterfall that looked like starlight... The whole bottom floor consisted of an open floor plan, the kitchen tucked away in the back of the house, beautiful marble countertops and dark oak cabinets to match the floors. The couch was a deep green, with an ornate rug underneath it. A few armchairs supplied as well. A long dinner table with enough seating for your party.

The bedrooms were no less ornate as the rest of the house. The master bedroom was located upstairs, all the way back at then end of the hall. Feyre and Rhys had called dips. Then the room next to theirs was claimed by Cassian and Nesta. Amren and Varian got the one across from them. Mor and you would be sharing a room, the one next to Nesta and Cassian. Azriel was across the hall. And as soon as that had been settled, you ran up to your room to get ready. Throwing your bags up on the bed and hastily throwing them open, so your dress for the evening could unwrinkle.

The first evening was about alliance's more than romance. At least, that is how you looked at it. You'd show off what court you were from, maybe have a few dances, and then call it a night. But it didn't matter to you, you were going to a freaking ball! The childlike joy in you had yet to dim in your heart. The dress you chose had a high neckline, akin to a halter top. It covered your cleavage while still hugging them to show them off in a modest way, as Nesta put it. The back remained open. And golden accents lined the edges. From your waist came long layers of tulle decorated with stars, and when you spun it flared slightly. You'd look breathtaking on the dance floor tonight, you just knew it. Your heels were golden to match the accents in the dress as well, Mor had also lent you some jewelry for the evening.

Everything was coming together just perfectly. You had sat and down and started to brush out your hair when a knock sounded. "Come in!" Nesta and Feyre entered. Both of them smiling at you as they accessed what you had laid out. Feyre took the brush from you, gently pulling it through your hair. "You should be careful with Tamlin." The first words out of her mouth made you roll your eyes.

"Feyre, I'm not going to fall madly in love with Tamlin because he was kind. I will be cordial and polite by allowing him a dance and then release him to the public." You assure her, locking eyes with her in the mirror. "I will never forgive that bastard for what he did to you. But I can, make it hard for him to refuse any alliance Rhysand speaks of tonight." Nesta's mouth curls up into a smile as she brings out a box. "You cunning little thing." She says proudly, setting down the makeup she had packed as she starts to help. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Was that your plan all along?" Feyre asks, grimacing when she catches a snarl in your hair. Not that you minded. Where your sisters kept their hair braided and in updo's most of the time. You usually opted for a more natural style. And that, meant your hair got more windswept than normal when flying. But you nod at Feyre. "Of course. Don't get me wrong, if Tarquin offers me a dance, it might be for a little more than just an alliance. But Nesta once told me the ways of balls and polite society. So I will follow it. I'm still looking for love, but again. I'd settle for a boyfriend by the end." You shrug playfully, missing the look your sisters give each other.

"You were little when I told you that." Nesta says wistfully. "It made me miss it. But, I'm glad that those lessons stuck with you at least." She doesn't give you a chance to respond as she starts to lather your face with creams, and other makeup.

By the end. You looked stunning. Your hair had been curled, Nesta braided a crown at the back of your head to keep your hair out of your face but left a few pieces framing it. The dress fit like a glove, and the added height from the heels made your already lean body look even better. Your makeup was stunning. Nesta had dusted a mixture of bronze and gold over your eyelids, and Feyre took a golden face paint-dotting it along your cheeks to help accentuate the freckles you already had. Your lips were a beautiful glossy rose pink.

Your sisters had left you to dress long ago. But you kept staring at yourself in the mirror. Unable to look away, you felt like a princess. There was no way that you wouldn't find a partner tonight.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Meanwhile. "Azriel. Stop spying on her." Cassian chides as he buttons up his shirt. "She's going to be fine. Nesta and Feyre are in there." Azriel glares at him, he had still barely gotten dressed. Shirtless and in nothing but black slacks. His shadows swirling around him, whispering into his ear, 'She looks like a dream.' 'Our mate is beautiful.' 'She'll be able too reach up to our shoulder for sure tonight.' And it was hard to foucus when all they could focus on was you. "Says the one who gets to be with his mate tonight." He grumbles as he grabs his shirt and slips it on. Rhys sighs heavily as he looks at Azriel with a gentle, yet exhausted expression. "Azriel. She's far too excited about this for you to-"

"I won't ruin it." He sighs, buttoning his shirt, but leaving the first one undone. He never liked having that one done. It had felt like he was choking. So that one stayed unbuttoned. He helped Rhys slip on his rather ornate jacket. Black and Gold- to make you. They all had planned it so they'd be able to spot each other easily in the crowds. "She's excited, and I won't take that away from her." Azriel didn't voice his full thought. About how he wished he could have swept you off your feet, heard your vibrant laugh sound through out the ball. Dip you and watch your eyes widen, kiss you under the moonlight... all of it. "If it is any consolation." Rhys's voice snaps Azriel out of his trance. "Feyre just informed me that she has no plans on wooing Tamlin. She knows we want an alliance with him." He chuckles as he buttons his coat. Turning and grabbing Azriel's coat to help him next. That does make him smile, "I knew it. She held my hand behind her back as he spoke. She didn't like him." He confesses.

"Aww! How romantic! She held your hand!" Cassian teases, earning a smack from Azriel. He chuckles, "But that's good, it will help us keep the peace. It's already so delicate."

"She's a smart woman." Rhys pats Az's shoulder to signal he was good. Azriel buttons the suit jacket and nods. "Then again so are all of the Archeron's but-" Rhys shrugs.

"You can say that again." Cassian rolls his eyes and sits with a slight huff. "I'm gonna be on that dance floor all night batting men away with a stick while Nesta dances. And she knows it too!" Rhys and Azriel share a look, before the both mockingly 'aww' at him as he did to Azriel moments earlier.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Everyone had made thier way downstairs to the main entrance. The stairs had a view that went straight up to the landing, making for one grand entrance. And, that was all that was left for you to do. Round the corner and face your family. For whatever reason it made you nervous. Mor had assured you that you looked stunning. Nesta had made you do affirmations in the mirror. Feyre assured you that they were all excited to attend. But anxiety still gnawed at you. "Y/n! You're gonna make us late!" Rhys's voice boomed through the house. With a deep breath, you rounded the corner. Your family looking up at you. Your sisters, all of them- Nesta, Feyre, Mor and Amren looked at you with smiles of varying sizes. Your brother in laws smiled as well, but Cassian let out a low whistle.

"Forget beating boys away from Nesta. We're gonna have to beat them away from you." He compliments, earing a smack on the chest from Nesta. But it was worth it in his opinion when he watched the tension release from your shoulders.

Your eyes found Azriel's. And it was like time slowed, watching as he walked up the steps toward you. He looked beyond handsome in his suit. You couldn't recall the last time you saw him dressed so formally, you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat. You prayed to the Mother to give you strength- if this was how you were reacting to Azriel in a suit? And for a moment, as you gazed at Azriel walking toward you; you hoped that he could kiss you. The thought shocked you, it was probably just the excitement from all of it. But instead, he offered his hand. "You look stunning." He says softly, as if it was only the two of you in the room. "Allow me to escort you to the ball." You didn't hesitate to nod, placing your hand in his. Letting him help you down the steps in your heels. Now you just had to be cunning enough to get a dance with him... ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ball was, unbelievably beautiful. The marble floors blended seamlessly into the marble walls with accents of gold. Garland of ivy, flowers and other various flora. Chandeliers with faelighting looked as if the celling was crying the most sparkling diamonds. People were dressed so ornately in various colors, like a intermingled rainbow. You squeezed Azriel's arm in awe. He looked down at you, his face remained neutral especially in front of so many people. But you knew that he was silently asking if you were alright. You give him a slight nod. "It's beautiful." You whispers to him, he flexes his arm and you can see his jaw tighten a little as if he was holding back something to say.

And soon, the music had started. The Courts were introduced, Nyx was fawned over by all the other high ladies. You were standing near the refreshment table as you watched Nesta on the dance floor. Moving with Cassian in a fluid, graceful dance. She commanded the dance floor, everyone's eyes were on her. You smiled, knowing the smile that your sister was wearing was a genuine one. But you didn't have much time to focus on her as Tamlin's large build came into your view. Smiling up at him, he reached his hand out. You felt the shadows curl around your ankles again. "Tamlin." You nod at him. "Y/n, would you care to join your sister on the dance floor?" He smiled at you with ease. You set your glass down and took his hand. "I'd love too." And with that, he led you out to the dance floor. His hand on your waist, other one holding your hand up high. And you began to move gracefully around the dance floor. You took note of how the shadows hid in the tulle of your dress. You'd be yelling at Azriel for that later. Tamlin was gentle, but he was definitely leading the dance. Pushing and pulling you around, but he remained polite. "Tell me, y/n. You don't have a mate?" He raises an eyebrow at you. You give him a shrug. He looks amused by your answer waiting for you to elaborate.

"I don't know, truthfully." You said as he spun you, pulling you back in. "I haven't felt the bond with anyone. But that isn't to say that it can't be there."

Tamlin considered your words before he nodded at you. "Do you know what it feels like? Has anyone told you what it is like?" You shook your head. The shadows angrily fluttered around your dress. You made Tamlin spin you again so that you could cover up for them.

"It's been...vague. My sisters don't know how to explain it. They just say I'll know when it happens. That it snaps and they are suddenly your whole word. They say it's as if, the bond is like a string. And at first it's invisible. Until one day it begins to glow golden and the rest is history." You explain what they had told you, the music comes to an end and you take a subtle back from Tamlin. "Join me, for dinner tomorrow." He says quickly. Your eyes widen and you look at him as your mouth tries to form the word no. But you simply just nod. And Tamlin leaves your side, your eyes scan the crowd in a panic. Finding Azriel with Cassian and Rhys in the corner you rushed over, the three of them looking at you with worry. Azriel stepped forward first, taking your hand gently as he pulled you into his side. "Y/n, did something happen?" Rhys asks, his brow furrowed as he watches you. You swallow thickly. "Tamlin asked me to dinner." The others look at each other as if there was a silent conversation happening.

"Okay...and what did you say?" Cassian asks slowly. Azriel wrapped his wing around you, keeping you pressed closely to his chest. You gripped the lapel of his suit jacket. Biting your lip so hard you were worried you'd draw blood.

"...I-I wanted to say no. But, but it was like my body froze up and I just...I nodded!" You rushed out, looking up at Azriel. He tensed, his arm around your waist pressed you closer. But as he looked down at you, he could see the apology brewing in your eyes. So he looked back to Rhys. Rhys hummed and then nodded. "Alright, we can work around this. You'll have a chaperone tomorrow." He says smoothly, giving you a gentle smile. Helping ease you, he looks at Cassian. "Get Nesta. She'll make sure that nothing happens. If he asks, we tell him its a human custom that you insist on abiding by."

Cassian nods, looking back at you and patting your head. "We've got your back, kid. Don't worry." You relax further into Azriel, resting your head on his shoulder as you finally take a deep breath.

"I wanna be there," Azriel speaks up, looking at Rhys. "In the shadows. Incase he tries faebane or anything else again." His voice is tight, pleading almost as he looks at his brother. You gives him a little squeeze. Looking back at Rhys.

"I would feel better about...if Az was there." You speak up. Rhys looks at you and sighs. "Fine. In the shadows. You don't act unless I give orders. Understood?" Rhysand commands, Azriel nods.

You breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't." Azriel says softly, running a hand down your arm. "We shouldn't have left you out there alone. Just seems Tamlin has a type." Rhys snorts at Azriel's comment.

"Why don't you two go dance?" Rhys motions to the dance floor. "The nights young."

Azriel looks down at you, only to be met with your eyes already on his. You nod quickly, as if you knew the question that was on the tip of his tongue. He smiled, letting his wings curl back in and stepping away from you. Bowing in front of you as he offers his hand, reveling in the joyous giggle that sounds from your mouth. Your delicate hand takes hold of his as he leads you to the dance floor.

The same way that Nesta commanded the floor, this time you two did. You felt the eyes of the crowd on you, but none of it mattered. Azriel's hand laid on your waist, your's laid on his shoulder. Hands clasped in a classic waltz. The music guided you two along, no one led the dance. There was a push and pull of equal measure from each of you, moving about the floor as if this was your ballroom. And as the music hit the last swell before it ended, Azriel spun you only to pull you back into a dip. Watching as the lights danced in your eyes, glittered along the fabric of your dress. You looked like a goddess. And Azriel thanked the Mother for giving him such a beautiful mate.

It was safe to say, that for the rest of the night. You were tucked into his side. Safe, and sound. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: Hehe, this was so much fun to write!! I hope yall liked it!

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @oucereeng @bunnyredgirl @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61 @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @thewulf

#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

[local-crying-boy]

ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

What they do when their s/o passes out

Characters included: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, Captain John Price, Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra, Alejandro Vargas

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Lieutenant Quick On His Feet here

He’s quick to react when you start to wobble on your feet, or when you start to falter in the speed of your actions.

He stands by your side and either waits for you to pass out or for you to start to feel better.

^ He more so does this if you pass out frequently, if it’s not a common occurrence then he’ll hold onto your arm lightly as if he was support.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

He’s the type to not expect you to pass out (even if it is an often occurrence and he knows that it is)

The minute he realised you’ve passed out, you’re legs have given up and he’s already cursing out trying to catch you before you hit the ground

Now, don’t worry for he is a sergeant and his reflexes are pretty good (most of the time). You’ve never actually injured yourself because he might have been a little too delayed in catching you

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Not as quick as Ghost in a way that Ghost is able to catch you before you hit the ground.

Gaz obviously isn’t about to let you hit your head, but it is a delayed reaction from him to the point where your knees have already given in and are about to hit the ground

He sits in the floor with you, your head on his lap if you’ve passed out once he gets to you.

He’d brush the hair from your face and quietly whisper that he’s there for you and that you’re okay, even if you can’t hear him and wait for your eyes to open again.

It’s a 50/50 chance you open your eyes to see a half-calm, half-panicked look on his face, or a opening your eyes to see him calm (but there’s something in his eyes that tells you his mf heart dropped).

Captain John Price

If you pass out when the two of you are at home, then he’s picking you up and setting you down on the sofa or bed (depending on where you passed out)

He’s mostly quick, like Ghost, because he rushes over when you give the slightest indication you’re about to pass out

You can thank the military for his wariness, but his wariness for you is a totally different thing

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

Quick just like the others (I know this sounds like a damn broken record with the amount of times I’ve wrote this), however, unlike the others the concern on his face is as clear as day. No point in hiding it, you know he cares enough about you

When you wake up again, he’s asking if you want anything, like if you have low iron he’s asking if he can get you anything to eat that might remedy that. It was because of the heat? Okay, he’s so fucking quick to ask if you need a drink.

Even if you don’t need a drink, or food, he’s grabbing it regardless. He cares so much about your well being, you wonder if he cares more about it than you do

Alejandro Vargas

Has a little mini heart attack. And (if you pass out regularly) even asks you if you’re trying to kill him with the amount of times you pass out

If it’s a less occurring thing, he’s less obligated to try and pick out little signs that you might pass out (because he wouldn’t really need to)

But if you pass out often, he is so quick to realise when you are feeling even slightly dizzy, or the first to realise when you’re stalling in your movements, sometime even before you realise!

This mf is like a mind reader too, it’s like he just knows. You don’t even have to say anything and he’s ushering for you to sit down before you pass out, hands on your sides as if you can’t walk without him

#cod #cod men headcannons #alejandro cod #codmw1 #cod price #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mw1 #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod headcannons #cod headcanons #cod men #ghost cod #soap cod #call of duty men headcannons #call of duty men #call of duty headcannons #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty #colonel alejandro vargas #alejandro mwii #alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  

"So..."  

"Just go," she snips.  

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  

"Dang it," you whisper.  

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   

that needs to be fixed too.  

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  

"And your name? Neighbour?" 

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 

“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 

“Mom,” you say. 

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 

“Anyway...” he says. 

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 

You huff and push the mower over. 

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 

“You figure it out?” She asks. 

“No,” you flop onto the couch. 

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 

His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america #au #silverfox au

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #dc au #damian wayne #kon el #dc prudence #thank you for the ask!!!! #y'all remember to be careful when adding romantic relationships to time travel #timkon is cute but the age difference (even though Tim's body regresses) could get spooky here

[fear-is-truth]

TAG, YOU’RE IT

— Kai Anderson x fem! reader

WARNINGS: 18+. mdni — porn with plot. violence. vaginal fingering. unprotected p in v. size kink. implied murder. english is not my first language. not proofread as usual

WC: 2.7k

A/N: this was kinda rushed due to school exams and college applications, sorry in advance for the poor quality. but i adored this idea so much, hope it’s not too awful.

Vanity tables were crammed into the limited space, each adorned with a haphazard array of makeup and tools. Sighing, you grabbed the clown mask that was sitting on your table and pulled it over your head, its cool, rubbery texture making your skin crawl. In the mirror, the grotesque reflection stared back— sickly pale skin mottled in patches of green and blue, reminiscent of moldy cheese. Painted in garish shades of red, the mouth stretched open in a nightmarish grin, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

As you tucked in the stray strands of hair peeking under the latex, your thoughts drifted to your less-than-enthusiastic job as a scare actress in a haunted house. It wasn't as fun as it had been when you first started a year ago, but it paid the bills. Plus, you needed the money, having broken up with your boyfriend whom you discovered was cheating on you. You used to share an apartment together, but now you were on your own, struggling to make ends meet in order to afford a small, dingy one-room apartment in Michigan.

Disgusted at your reflection, you finally tore away your gaze, fingers fumbling to adjust the straps of your tight black and red corset. The garment cinched tightly around your waist, flaunting your assets in such a whorish way that it made you cringe inwardly, and its scandalously low neckline revealed more cleavage than you were comfortable with.

“So, guess who showed up earlier?”

Your eyes flicked over to where your colleague was hunched over her mirror, tying her mousy blonde hair into a ponytail.

“Who? Not Alex again, right?”

“Yes of course I’m talking about Alex.” Lena rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the disgust she harboured for your ex-boyfriend.

“He came during break time, asking about you,”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed.

“Ugh. The fuck did he want this time? I’ve told him, I didn’t take his stupid DVD-”

“-said he wanted to talk.”

she pulled her mask over her head.

“Well, I’m not interested,”

“Way ahead of you, I told him you were swamped.” Lena's voice came through muffled, her words slightly distorted by the mask she wore. Before you could thank her, a booming, deep voice interrupted from the door frame.

“Hey, scream queens,” Terry, your boss called out, tapping the doorframe. “We’ve got our last visitors for the night. You two are up in five.”

“Just so you know,” Lena added as she finished lacing up her boots, and started for the doorway, “if he keeps on pestering you, I’ll slash his tires.”

Even though she couldn’t see your face through the clown mask, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks,”

“Don’t thank me, I know you’d do the same for me,”

———

Stepping out of the hidden door, you melted into the shadows, waiting for your target to show up. From your vantage point, you could hear footsteps echoing through the dark corridor, signaling their arrival. They turned around the corner, and just as you were about to make your move, a sudden blur of movement startled you. Before you could react, the man swung his arm, the paper cup in his hand spilling its lukewarm contents all over your front.

Stumbling back in surprise, you felt the brown liquid seeping through the eye holes of your rubber mask and trickling down your cheeks, the scent of coffee invading your nostrils.

Furious, you ripped off your mask, wiping the droplets from your cheeks before staring incredulously at the man before you.

“What the fuck?! You asshole!”

He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, a mop of electric blue hair cascading to his shoulders. Hands tucked casually into the pockets of his jeans, he looked down at you.

“Oops, sorry… you scared me, miss,” he apologised somewhat lamely, though you doubted his sincerity, judging by the smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His attention shifted from your face to your revealing clown girl costume, taking in the corset with its low neckline, the miniskirt, and fishnet leggings.

The lasciviousness of his stare made you feel a twinge of unease, as if he was mentally undressing you with his gaze (which, in truth, he probably was). Despite feeling violated by his blatant eyefucking, a small surge of pride bubbled up within you. After all, he was undeniably a prick, but there was no denying his attractiveness—much to your deep annoyance.

“If I wanted to see a cheap Harley Quinn ripoff, I could’ve stayed home and watched porn on my computer. Nice tits, though-”

You were a good, law-abiding citizen, and you certainly weren’t an advocate for violence, but this douchebag was really pushing your limits.

Without thinking, your hand shot out, aiming to wipe that smirk off his face. But before your palm could make contact, his fingers closed around your wrist like a vice, halting your movement mid-air.

“Feisty, aren’t we?”

“Let go of me, you creep-”

“Name’s Kai, by the way.” he snarled, twisting your arms behind your back.

“Kai Anderson,” exerting pressure, he forced you to bend your knees until you were lying on your back, helplessly pinned beneath him.

“I don’t care who the hell you are-”

You spat, thrashing wildly and driving your knee towards his groin. But instead of hitting your intended target, your knee collided with his lower abdomen, which was packed with hard muscle. He must’ve hit the gym alright. Kai’s nostrils flared, but he didn't flinch. If anything, he seemed irritated by your resistance.

His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. With a sharp crack, his palm connected with your cheek, sending a jolt of pain ringing through your skull and causing your vision to blur momentarily at the edges.

“Y’know,” he began in a voice that was dangerously calm. “If it were someone else disrespecting me like this, I’d do more than a slap. Hell, I’d snap their fucking neck,”

“Wha- what do you want from me?”

Your voice came out in a weak croak as your vision swam back to focus. Strands of blue hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. Your faces were inches apart.

“I’m just trying to help you, can’t you see that? You're better off without that worthless piece of shit, Alex.” You blinked, your dazed mind trying to register his words.

“Alex? How’d you.. wait, did he set you up to this? Is this some sort of sick joke!?”

Anger and betrayal flared up, prompting you to resume your struggle. His grip around your wrist tightened, and you could feel your pulse racing in tandem with his.

“No, I’ve been watching you,” his tone was devoid of shame or guilt. “studying you. And I can see that you're too good for him.”

“Aren’t you tired of being the giver, while all he does is take?” he continued. “Everything you do, you do it for him. And how did he repay you? By fucking a random girl at a party. Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

Your limbs slackened in defeat. He was twisting the knife; that part was unmistakable, and he was close to succeeding. The sting of tears threatened to blur your vision, but you staunchly refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“So, let me guess,” you drawled, “next, you’re gonna tell me that you, will treat me better than any man ever could. Yeah, right.”

To your surprise, the corners of his mouth quirked into a wry smile.

“No, I’m not gonna tell you that,”

Kai paused, then took your silence as permission to keep talking.

“You, are an independent, strong woman. You're gonna take what you want and deserve, on your own terms. You don't need a man to do that for you,”

His thumb brushed gently against your bottom lip, dark eyes roaming greedily over your features as if he was trying to commit every single detail to memory.

“Now tell me.. what exactly do you want?”

Heat burned on your cheeks. You had a feeling that you both knew what you wanted.

“Go on,” he coaxed, “You can tell me,”

“You,” your voice was barely unrecognisable to your own ears.

“I want you,”

He smiled, as if he’d been expecting that answer all along. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. Warm, soft. For a split second, your mind seemed to disconnect from your body. He sighed into your mouth before slipping his tongue inside, swiping lazily against your hard palate. You bit back a moan when you felt his clothed erection rub against your thigh.

“Thank you, lamb. Because I want you too,”

A few moments later, he pulled back and let go of your wrists. His hands started to travel down your neck, stopping at the frilly neckline of your corset. With one swift motion, he jerked the cups halfway down, freeing your breasts from their tight confines. You could hear a low groan escape him as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples.

“Fuck… look at those pretty tits. Someday, I’m gonna cum all over them.”

As if driving the point home, he traced his thumb against your nipple, alternating between palming the soft flesh of your breast and pinching your nipple, making you whimper and arch your back, desperate for more stimulation.

“Patience, patience,” he chided teasingly, “There’s something I wanna check first.” His tone was light, but you could sense the effort he put into maintaining his composure, his voice laced with a thinly veiled lust that dripped from every syllable.

Kai’s hand slid lower, skimming past your abdomen and disappearing under your skirt, coming to rest on your inner thigh. He gave the soft, sensitive flesh a squeeze before slipping a finger under your panties. Leaning forward until his face was aligned next to yours, he took your earlobe gently between his lips and sucked it once, the sensation making you shiver in pleasure, before releasing the flesh with a wet pop.

“Hm, just what I thought. So wet for me already,”

He pressed the back of his index between your folds, collecting some of your slick and dragged it up to your clit. Your knees buckled involuntarily when he applied more pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Do you want me to stop? Because-”

“No,” you gritted out. “Don’t stop,”

He smiled.

“Wasn’t planning to, anyway,”

Without warning, he unceremoniously shoved two fingers into you, sinking in knuckle deep. A wet, guttural noise escaped your throat at the sudden intrusion and your cunt clenched— once, twice when his sizable digits curled against your sweet spot.

“Like how it feels?”

Unable to form coherent sentences, you nodded, your mind swimming in a lustful haze at the delicious stretch of his fingers scissoring inside you. As soon as your legs began to quiver, Kai retracted his fingers, making you clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but let out a needy whine of indignation. He yanked your soaked panties to your ankles in one, swift tug.

“Good girl. Time for your reward,”

Kai flashed you with a set of pearly white teeth. Triumphant and somewhat predatory, the effect made you tremble in anticipation. He unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down the zipper, shifting his hips to pull his cock out from his boxers.

You had only suspected he was huge, but now it was confirmed—seeing is believing, after all. Quite veiny, too.

Unable to tear your gaze away, you simply gawked as he wrapped his fist around his impressive length, giving it a couple of harsh pumps before positioning himself between your legs.

You moaned in unison as he pushed inside you, pleasure accompanied by pain shooting straight through your cunt to your entire body. The mere size of him stretched you; filled you up in a way that nobody else had ever done before. Made you wonder if your body was physically capable of accommodating him. It stung, but it also made you feel whole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you dug your fingernails into his shoulder, leaving crescent indents.

“Hah— oh fuck, baby…you’re so perfect for me-”

Kai’s voice cracked as he bottomed out, his handsome features twisting in rapture as your walls clamped down on him. He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling back slowly, just to slam back into you with a grunt. You swore that you could feel the tip of him touching your gut and you mewled. He soon established a rhythm that was both harsh and punishing, prompting your pussy to tighten around him ominously.

“Nngh—ahh…Kai, please, it’s to much-”

Curling an arm behind you, his hand snaked to the back of your skull, fingers tangling in your hair before finally, finally, he crushed his lips onto yours in a searing kiss. You felt him throb inside you as his thumb worked against your clit furiously, and that was all it took to send you over the edge.

The hot coil finally snapped, and your hands found purchase in his hair to hold him in place as your orgasm crashed over you. You keened as a wave of white-hot pleasure rippled through your veins, leaving your nerves tingling and muscles twitching. Through your pleasure-induced haze, you watched as Kai continued pounding into you. A raw moan that sounded almost like a whine tore through his throat, accompanied by a final thrust of his hips. He came inside you, thick, hot spurts of come filling your womb as a string of indiscernible curses tumbled past his lips.

Panting heavily, he lowered his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, ragged breaths hitting your skin as he waited for any residual spasms to abate.

A film of sweat coated his forehead, and his hair clung to his face. Juxtaposing with the brutal way he had been fucking you only seconds ago, Kai brushed his thumb against your cheekbone, lips pressing softly against your forehead before he pulled out with a satisfied groan.

———

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you pulled on your panties.

“There are cameras everywhere, I’m gonna get in so much trouble for this-”

“Don't worry,” his voice was surprisingly calm.

“I’ll take care of it later.” Instead of heading towards the neon green exit sign as you’d expected, Kai made a beeline towards one of the supply rooms, you trailing behind with growing confusion.

It struck you as odd how familiar he seemed with the layout, as if he had been there many times before.

“Hey, what are you—” you began, but the rest of your words caught in your throat the moment he pushed open the door.

There, tied up in a chair was none other than your cheat of an ex-boyfriend. Alex’s eyes widened in recognition as he spotted you, and he began thrashing wildly, his muffled screams stifled by the duct tape stretched across his mouth. As if things weren’t confusing and fucked up already, your friend emerged from the back of the small room.

“He wouldn’t stop screaming, sorry,” Lena explained, reaching out and pinching his cheek. Another girl, her long, bleached blonde hair peeking out from under a black beanie hat, caught your attention. With a casual nudge of her toe, she pushed aside some spare rope before shooting a flinty stare at Kai through long eyelashes.

“Took you long enough,”

“Hey, since when am I not allowed to have fun?”

Kai’s combat boots echoed against the linoleum floor as he strode towards where your ex was being tied up. His expression was unreadable as he leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart. As if in a trance, you found yourself drawn towards Kai, anticipation and adrenaline pumping through your veins as you relished the delicious fear emanating from Alex. You watched as Kai reached for something from his pocket—a glint of metal catching light. A switchblade.

“Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,”

He murmured in a low, almost sultry whisper, toying with the blade between his fingers.

“-blood and revenge are hammering in my head.” You finished softly.

“Titus Andronicus, right?” you smiled back. Kai’s expression morphed into one of sadistic pride, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he nodded slowly. The blonde girl groaned quietly in the background, “Another Shakespeare nerd,”

“Give me your hand,” You immediately complied, reaching out your hand.

“No, no. Palm up,”

Kai corrected gently, and you adjusted accordingly. His calloused, much larger hand enveloped yours. Still holding your hand, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a kiss on your knuckles. The gesture was strangely intimate, and it made your stomach flutter with warmth.

“Are you ready?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,”

He smiled at you, then you felt the weight of the knife handle being pressed into your open palm.

“You know exactly what you have to do, don’t you?”

thanks for reading! reblog, comments, likes, asks/requests are deeply adored because they keep me motivated!

send an ask to be added/ removed

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @babydoll-lvr @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @babydollxxblood @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @joshlmbrt @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake @dangeroustaintedflawed @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

#american horror story #ahs #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson smut #ahs cult #kai anderson x you #evan peters #kai anderson fluff #tate langdon #james patrick march #kit walker #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #jimmy darling #kit walker x reader #kit walker x y/n #colin zabel x reader #Tate Langdon smut #jpm x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters fanfic #ahs season 7 #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x y/n #kyle spencer x reader #kit walker smut

[luimagines]

Would it be alright to just request a really fluffy romance with wild for an isekai reader if that's alright?

He just deserves something soft and to be doted on I feel

Absolutely! I agree!

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Hey." Wild says, grabbing your attention from the top of a tree branch. Truth be told, you're also in the tree but you stuck to the lower branches while Wild went higher- living up to his nickname.

You looked up at him and smiled softly. "Yeah?"

Wild swings down, mostly. He hangs onto the branch with his legs and his arms, looking at you upside down. "Do you think the others will find us over here?"

You giggle. "Probably. With Wolfie on their side, I'm sure it wouldn't take them very long."

You lean up and kiss his nose.

Wild scrunches his face and his nose follows suit. It's cute. He drops from the branch, landing on the one under you. He looks up and puts his arms on your knees, crossing them gently so he doesn't keep his weight on you. "I want to hear a story."

You run your hands through his hair and tilt your head curiously. "Like what?"

"I don't know." He says simply. "Something from your world. something you grew up with."

You laugh and shake your head. "Do you know how little that narrows it down?"

Wild grins with you, leaning into your touch. "Humor me. I want something sweet. Or heartbreaking. Maybe both."

"Something bitter sweet?" You echo the sentiment and begin to think. "I don't know... That actually might narrow it down too much."

Wild snorts and grins from cheek to cheek. "How is that even possible?"

"I don't know-! I can't think of anything like that right now!" You laugh, trying to defend yourself.

Someone whistles in the distance and Wild groans loudly. You don't recognize the call and try to look around to see who did it. When you see no one, you look back to Wild. He doesn't look amused. "It's the Captain. Come on, we've been found out."

He begins to climb down.

You wait for him to get down first before following at a slower pace. You considered yourself a decent climber, but Wild seemed to stick to the trees. You could hear the Captain spot Wild and instantly begin to question the young man. You were suddenly less inclined to climb down.

"Hold on!" Wild shouts at Warrior, turning back to your tree. "Come on. You can't stay there forever. Jump. I'll catch you."

You hesitate.

Wild holds his arms you and tries to give you his most welcoming smile. You shake your head and let yourself drop. Wild catch you with ease and gently sets you on your feet.

He kisses your cheek before Warrior could see you two and takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together gently. "Alright, come on. Let's go back."

You blush but follow him back to where the others are no doubt waiting.

Warrior, surprisingly, holds back from scolding you as well- something you are silently thankful for. With a shake to his head, Warrior leads you both away.

You grin and lean closer to Wild, resting your head on his shoulder, bumping his head affectionately. "I'll tell the story later."

"Good." Wild grins again, seemingly unbothered despite being your alone time being cut. "I'll be waiting expectantly."

"Please save it for later." Warrior all but begs. "The rest of us are able to hear you being cute."

"Sounds like a you problem." Wild grins, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it. you copy the gesture quickly.

Warrior starts walking faster away with a pout on his face.

Wild is unapologetic. And frankly, so are you.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu wild

[houseofevanbuckley]

I had some idea that made me sad last night, and I thought well, why not sharing it here

I’ve seen a lot of fics about the 118 giving the shovel talk to Tommy, and I was wondering what if they pushed too hard?

One is alright, especially from the family or the closest friends, but Tommy receives a visit from each and everyone.

And he welcomes it, takes it as part of the dating process, especially dating into the weirdness that can be the 118.

But it still gets to him, and then Hen and Chimney comes as well and that’s what struck him the most.

They knew him, and they knew how he was and they see how he is now, and he starts to worry. Because maybe they don’t mind having him around them, that they know and see his growth and it’s enough for them, but is it enough for their little brother? For the 118’s baby?

And it makes some doubt grow and fester in his mind. What if he isn’t? Would all these people come to him like that if he was good for Buck? If he was enough?

And he likes Buck so much already, so so much. But maybe, maybe their first date was a sign.

Maybe he should let go of that sun, that is Evan Buckley

And he cancels one of their date, and goes to the one after, but he’s distracted, looking at Buck and seeing if he’s really happy to be here. Except maybe his own attitude is having Buck worried as well and he frowns a little, but he still enjoys the date. They still have a good time.

But that fucking doubt, you know? And he cancels the next date. And another one.

He does run to the 118 when Buck is injured. He can’t even imagine staying away, coming in and checking on that sweet sweet man.

But Buck told the others about the 3 canceled dates and maybe Hen or Eddie make a little remark about it which fuel even more his spiraling mind.

They text a lot still, but it’s still a lot less. It’s not that visible at first, going from 100 texts a day to 90, to 80. It’s a lot more visible when it’s halved, though.

Tommy mopping at the 217, refraining himself from going all in like he wants, like he’s been fucking craving since that first date.

And Lucy fucking snaps. She knows how intense the 118 is, how they can sometimes close rank around one of them and maybe close a little too much, so she decides to visit them and have a few words with them.

Buck who sees it, who hears Lucy talking to them, telling them to fucking ease on the peer pressure, on the expectations, to let Buck&Tommy breath and the 118 wincing because yeah, they may have been a bit heavy-handed with the shovel talks.

Buck who knows his family, and knows that yeah it comes from the heart but their intensity can be off the charts so he leaves with Lucy to go to the 217 and have a talk with Tommy who’s still moping and so distraught until Buck comes up behind him and hug him.

And they talk, they talk for hours, about the shovel talks yes, but also about what it brought back, about past Tommy and his doubts. His fucking doubts that he’s going to taint Buck in some ways and the fear that goes with it, the fear of hurting such a sunny guy and how Tommy would rather hurt them both now with a simple break up even if it’d break his heart than risking to change Buck.

And Buck can’t have that, seeing this strong man being so worried, so vulnerable in front of him, and he kisses him to shut him up. Something that he knows Tommy likes to do to him, and now he absolutely sees why when he sees the little daze look on Tommy’s face.

And they talk some more, and more until they finally, finally, hug it out once it’s all out, once the silent tears finally get out of Tommy’s eyes and taking his worries with them.

They end up at Buck’s loft where they spend the night cuddling and talking, both calling off work the next day when they realize that they talked until 5am and neither of them can handle a shift.

They spend the day in bed around each-other.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #911 abc #tevan #evan buck buckley #buck and tommy #rambling #just thinking about that big guy being full of feelings #he may be older but he’s still just a guy and doubts are the fucking worst #evan x tommy #tommybuck #kinley #kinkley

[malyce19]

Hi.

I’m working on coming back to the world of fic writing after a very long hiatus. TLDR I got sober and had a baby and my perspective on the whole world changed, as it does. So if you’ve liked my fics in the past, I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for so long. Here’s a teaser of what I’m working on right now. It’s called State Lines.

“there’s no such thing as a clean break when your heart starts bleeding out.” - chance peña

Day 1

She sold her penthouse and bought the car. A gray sedan, plenty of room for all of the belongings she cared enough to travel with. Nothing flashy, something reliable and low maintenance that wouldn’t call too much attention to her presence as she made her escape. All that mattered to her was that the car’s suspension wasn’t impacted by all of the emotional weight she was bringing with her on this journey to nowhere. She should have said something, she knows that. But what do you say when you’re leaving everything and everyone behind?

She didn’t know where she was going, not that it really mattered. She’d been driving for two days, only stopping for gas and compulsory restroom and food breaks. The more distance she could place between herself and blonde haired blue eyed loves of her life, the better. So she drove, vaguely eastbound with stinging eyes and an aching heart.

Miles passed and the road lines started to feel like metaphors, lines in the proverbial sand. Endless expanses of pavement and exit signs beckoned her forward, the promise of anonymity and rebirth lingering somewhere on the horizon as she drove. As her old life burned to cinders behind her, she felt less like a phoenix and more like a nondescript speck of ash, floating aimlessly on the wind. And maybe that’s all she was now, without her.

Day 3

By day three, Lena had to stop to sleep. She’d pushed herself as far as she could, coffee and disgustingly sweet energy drinks sustaining her only to the point of blurred vision and shaking hands. So she found a slightly innocuous looking hotel a few miles off the highway in northern Texas, pulling her borrowed (now stolen) NCU baseball cap down as far as it would go to obscure her features as she checked in. It helped, she supposed, that the kid behind the counter couldn’t drag his eyes away from the football game he was watching long enough to look her in the eye, so being recognized wasn’t an issue. She paid for the room in cash, as she had with everything else on this trip, and she tipped the boy an extra $100 bill to ensure housekeeping left the room alone until she’d checked out. Leaving a paper trail would defeat the purpose of a clean break, and she couldn’t risk being recognized by a well-meaning staffer trying to offer more towels.

In the safety of a locked hotel room, Lena took her hair down and tossed the duffle bag on the bed. It was getting dark out, and she closed the heavy curtains to keep her eyes from searching the clear sky for familiar streaks of red and blue. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before her absence would become obvious. She’d left LCorp on sabbatical, leaving Sam at the helm for the time being, vaguely committing to take the reins again sometime in the future. Her new phone was blissfully quiet, Sam and Jess the only two she trusted with the number. News alerts about superheroes and aliens and secret government agencies were disabled, and all that graced her lock screen was a stock photo of some rainy trees.

As she sat down on the bed, exhaustion starting to settle into every nerve, she couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she got here. Not physically, that was obvious. She bought a car and drove for three straight days until she realized she was endangering the other drivers (though there’d been very few) by continuing on like this. She just didn’t trust herself to keep going without rest, so here she was, in a Hilton hotel in fucking Lubbock, of all places. Trust. That’s what this all boiled down to, wasn’t it? Misplaced trust, betrayal of trust, lack of trust where it was dutifully earned with literal blood, sweat and tears. Trust, broken and shattered and disintegrated in one fell swoop with her former favorite person’s too-little-too-late confession.

#supercorp #fan fiction is my comfort object #supercorp fic #lena luthor #supergirl #kara danvers