#needed to get this idea out of my head so I could think about other things

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #jockification #himbofication #hair growth #nerd to jock #muscle tf

[rafecameroninterlude]

I just saw that ur asks were emptied, idk if u remember but I had requested like innocent Bambi reader with Pervy step bro rafe, getting caught or something like this haha, I don’t remember everything but I think this was it

pairing: pervy!stepbro!rafe x bambi!reader

warnings: stepcest, sneaking around, heavy petting, unprotected sex, wheezie being a detective

a/n: yes, i remember anon!! i hope you like how this came out <3 you could find bambi!reader introduction here

“wait, wait, everyone is still awake!” you whispered, giggling softly as rafe closed your bedroom door. “please, i can’t wait any longer, i’ll go crazy if i have to use your panties to fuck my hand again.” he grabbed your ass, harshly gripping the flesh before littering your neck with kisses. “what are you talking about?” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “it’s nothing, baby, forget that i mentioned it.” rafe backed you up until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed. “you want to help me out with something?” he looked down at you, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

you nodded, allowing him to place your hand over the tent in his jeans. “you feel this? it hurts so bad, i need you to make me feel better. can you do that?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, taking his digit into your mouth. “yes..”. within the next five minutes, rafe had your thighs pinned on either side of your head as he pounded into you at an unforgiving speed. “shhh, please stay quiet baby.” he threaded his fingers with yours, admiring the way your tits bounced with each one of his thrusts. “m’trying!” you cried softly, struggling not to let out an occasional whimper.

rafe kissed you in hopes to muffle the pretty sounds falling from your lips. “you can be as loud as you want when it’s just us two, okay?” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to have you under me like this. i’ve woken up hard as fuck all because i dreamt of you taking my cock the night before.” you moaned at his revelation, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “rub your clit for me.” you did as he said, the added stimulation making you clench around his length.

just as you were about to tell him you were close, a knock sounded from the other side of the door. both of you froze, eyes wide as wheezie’s voice cut through the air. “y/n? are you okay in there?” she asked, the door knob rattling as you and rafe scrambled to get your clothes back on. “look, tomorrow everyone is gonna be out for dinner, make something up and say that you’re sick so you don’t have to go.” rafe kissed you, cursing under his breath. “hello?! y/n open the door!” you mumbled a quick ‘okay!’ before ushering rafe out. “chill out, wheez.” wheezie looked up at rafe confusingly.

“what is he doing in here? and why was the door locked?” she looked at you suspiciously, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. “oh! i had just borrowed his laptop for something. i must’ve locked the door on accident.” you smiled nervously, feeling small under her gaze. “anyways! i was just gonna see if you wanted to help me bake some cookies for my school thing on friday?” desperate to change the subject, you nodded frantically, hoping she wouldn’t ask anymore questions. “yes, that sounds fun! what kind of cookies did you have in mind?” you leaned against the doorframe.

she glanced past you, her eyes narrowing. “umm.. why is your bed like that?”

#⟡ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe edit #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #obx #obx smut #stepbro!rafe #drew starkey

[zegrasdrysdale]

Heyyy could I ask for an Ethan Edward’s fic where him and the reader have been together for about a year and a half or something and she unexpectedly goes into labour at the frozen four game, neither her nor Ethan had any idea that she was even pregnant.

[ a tiny surprise ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan’s girlfriend has to leave the Frozen Four game versus Boston College because she’s having intense cramps, but the biggest surprise of all time waits for her and Ethan when she gets to the hospital

warning(s) : labor and cramps, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of period

author’s note : i thought this would be a good request to tackle since it’s mother’s day. so anon and everyone, enjoy !! <3

༺═──────────────═༻

From the moment she woke up that morning, she’s been cramping. It wasn’t any worse than her normal period cramps so she took some medicine and went on with her day. There was some pain in her lower back though. She wasn’t worried that it was something else. Sometimes there is some back pain when she’s dealing with period cramps.

They eventually got to a tolerable level where she wasn’t curled up in bed anymore so she got ready for the Frozen Four game that Ethan and Michigan are playing in that night. She throws on the jersey that Ethan left for her, drawers a ‘73’ on her cheek right under her eye, then heads down to the lobby where she’s meeting the other girlfriends so they can head to the game together.

For a moment in the elevator, it feels like her uterus is stabbing her right in the gut. She winces and doubles over in pain with a hand flat on the wall. She lays a hand on her stomach and breathes out until the cramp passes. Sometimes they get painful like this.

Hopefully one of the girls has some medicine she can take in a little bit.

Once she gets to the lobby, the girls pile into the bus that they rented as a group since the boys had to go to the arena early. She sits with her arms crossed over her belly because the cramps are stronger than normal.

Rutger’s girlfriend, Kayleigh, sits next to her as the bus pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “Hey, are you okay?” she questions as she lightly rests a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t look very good.”

“I don’t feel very good,” she admits with a light laugh. “I think my uterus is trying to kill me or something. I’ll be okay for the game.”

Kayleigh laughs. “Oh, I get it,” she replies. “I have Advil in my backpack if you need it. I can grab you a drink so you can take the meds too.”

“Thanks, Kay,” she says with a small smile. “Mind if I take some now? I’m really hurting.”

She nods and grabs the bottle of Advil out of her bag. As soon as the pills are in her hand, Kayleigh grabs her small water bottle and lets her take a sip to take the meds.

The ride to the Xcel Energy Center seems like an eternity because of how much pain she’s in. She’ll just have to push through the pain until after the game because she just wants to support her boyfriend in one of the most important games of his life. The Frozen Four games are always important games. She wants to be there for him.

When the bus arrives to the arena, the girls walk inside together. There is a half hour until puck drop so the boys are probably warming up on the ice. Or they’re about to start warming up.

She sits in a seat until the boys start warming up. Even after the medicine she took, it feels like the cramps are getting worse and closer together. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Ethan would’ve understood if she told him that she wasn’t feeling good. She would’ve watched on the television in the hotel room.

As soon as the boys come out for warmups, she stands up and cheers with the other girls. Ethan skates by and she bangs on the glass, trying to keep a smile on her face despite her insides trying to kill her. Ethan looks at her with a smile on his own face as he warms up.

Then it feels like someone kicks her in the gut. She cries out in pain and wraps an arm around her stomach. Kay is right at her side. “Sit down for a second,” she orders. “I don’t think standing helps cramps. The Advil should kick in soon.”

“They’re never this bad,” she says. Her voice is so shaky. “I’ve taken so much medicine. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

There’s banging on the glass in front of her. She looks up and sees Ethan. “What’s wrong?” he shouts. His voice is able to carry over the glass because fans are still making their way to the ice from the concourse.

Kayleigh taps her stomach in response to Ethan. “Bad,” Kay yells back.

“I’m fine,” she reiterates. “Meds just need to kick in.”

“Are you sure?” Kay asks. “I don’t think he’ll be mad if you need to go to the hotel, or the emergency room since I think every urgent care in the area is closed now.”

She looks up at Kayleigh and Ethan. “The emergency room?” she questions. “They’re just really intense period cramps.”

Ethan points up the steps. “Go to the ER, baby,” he calls. “It’s okay. I know you’ll be watching.” With a frown, she shakes her head. “Please. You’re never in this much pain. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

Kay helps her stand up even though she doesn’t want to go. “I have her, E,” she calls. “Can you tell Rut?” Ethan nods.

He holds up half a hand heart. She holds the other half up before she and Kayleigh slowly make their way up the steps.

As soon as they’re on the concourse, another more painful cramp hits her. Her entire body shakes with pain and she groans. “Kay, hold on,” she begs. “I can’t-”

Something starts dripping down her leg, wetting her leggings. Confused, she looks down and sees a puddle at her feet. It’s clear fluid. She looks back up at Kayleigh.

“What is that?” Kayleigh asks.

“I don’t- ah!” she cries out in pain again. Her legs almost give out and Kayleigh has to hold her weight.

“Okay, I’m calling an ambulance,” Kayleigh explains as she sits her friend against the wall. “You’re in too much pain to walk and clearly something is very wrong.”

She nods as Kayleigh dials 9-1-1 and tells them what’s going on. Her entire body shakes and she has to curl up in a ball to elevate some of her pain. Some of the medical staff has come over to her to try and help. She’s in too much pain to speak.

When paramedics do arrive, Kayleigh manages to let her go to the hospital with them. She also has to do some begging, and she mentions that their boyfriends are on the ice at the moment and there is no one else to go with her.

She’s given some morphine on the ambulance, but it doesn’t do much. The ride is shorter than the ride to the arena from the hotel.

When she gets to the emergency room, they do an exam. When they poke at her stomach, they decide to do an ultrasound because of how ridged her torso is.

The doctor comes back with the machine and puts some of that cool gel on her belly. She grips Kayleigh’s hand as another cramp hits. She bites her lip and winces in pain.

“Miss, did you know you are pregnant?” the doctor asks after a moment.

Her eyes widen. “Pregnant?” she questions. “There’s no way. I still have a period and I never gained any weight. I have no belly.”

The doctor turns the screen in her and Kayleigh’s direction. On the screen is a full term baby. “That’s your baby,” the doctor explains. “And this baby is coming in the next hour or so. Your water has broken, which is what happened at the hockey game.”

“My baby,” she echoes. She blinks and begins to panic. “I have a baby? Oh my God. Ethan has no idea and he’s on the ice.”

Kayleigh asks, “Do you want me to call someone to get him so he’s here?” She nods. Kay disappears a second later to make a phone call.

As the doctor wipes away the gel, she says, “I’m going to get you admitted to the maternity ward and into a labor suite.”

“How is this possible?” she questions as the doctor pulls the jersey back down. “I mean, I had no idea. No signs.”

“It’s rare but it might be because you have two uteruses,” the doctor explains. “One continues to have a period and the other holds the baby. I don’t know why you didn’t show but it happens sometimes. Most women have a belly, some don’t show much or at all.” She puts away the wand and stands up. “I’ll be right back.”

She nods and rests her hands on her belly. Somehow, there is a baby in there. She had no idea that she was even pregnant. Neither did Ethan.

He’s going to be in for the biggest surprise of his life in a few minutes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She has never screamed more in her life than she has in the last hour. Her contractions, not cramps, are intense and close together. This baby is coming, and Ethan isn’t here yet.

Kayleigh got a hold of someone, who got a hold of Naurato, who told Ethan what was going on. He said he was leaving as soon as he could, but he’s still not here.

“Where is he?” she cries out as she feels a contraction. “I need Ethan. Now!”

“He’s on his way,” Kayleigh tells her. “He left during one of the TV timeouts. He should be almost here.”

Her OB is checking to see how many centimeters she’s dialated. “Okay, you’re ten centimeters,” she explains. “I can wait a few more minutes but this baby is coming.”

Another contraction and she screams. She grips Kay’s hand so hard she’s afraid she might’ve broken her hand. She feels bad but she needed something to hold.

“I need to wait for my boyfriend,” she pants as soon as the contraction passes. “Please.”

Her OB nods and leaves the room. She looks up at Kay. “Let me go see where he is,” Kayleigh tells her. “Give me literally ten seconds and I’ll be right back, okay?” She nods and breathes.

Kayleigh walks out of the room and she looks out the window. Looking outside helps her stay calm sometimes, even when she’s in sudden, active labor with a baby she didn’t know she was carrying.

Another contraction hits and she takes deep breaths. The door opens a second later and she’s ready to beg the doctor to wait for Ethan when she sees her boyfriend running in the room. He’s still in full gear, minus his helmet and skates. “Oh my God, baby,” he gasps when he sees her on the bed. “How is this-”

“I have no idea,” she replies as Ethan presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “All I know is that in a few minutes, we are going to have a baby. I’m scared.”

Ethan grabs her hand and kisses it. “I’m right here,” he assures her. “I’m right beside you through this, okay? I love you and I love our little baby even though neither of us knew.”

Her OB comes back in as she nods. “Are you dad?” her doctor asks. Ethan nods in reply. “Great. We need to push on the next contraction, okay?”

She grabs Ethan’s hand and sits up a bit. As soon as the next contraction hits, she pushes as hard as she can. She screams in a lot of pain since it feels like her body is tearing in two. Ethan has a hand on her back and helps her out. Kayleigh stands on her other side as she pushes.

When she takes a break from pushing, she looks at Ethan. “How are you guys doing?” she questions. “Are you winning?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s fine,” he tells her. “I’d rather be here with you. The guys told me to be here with you when Naurato told me what was going on.”

“Full hockey gear,” she teases him.

“I needed to be here for the birth of our baby,” he replies with a smile.

She smiles right back, but it’s short lived as another contraction hits. She pushes more. Her OB tells her to push a little longer.

Then the sound of a baby crying fills the room. She feels almost immediate relief between her legs a second later. She slumps back against the pillows as the doctor stands up with a baby in her arms.

“Congratulations, mom and dad,” she says with a smile. “You have a beautiful baby boy.”

She smiles at the crying baby as he’s handed to her. “Hi, baby boy,” she laughs. “You were quite the surprise.”

Ethan is given the chance to cut the umbilical cord and is right beside her. He puts a little blue hat on the baby’s head as he stops trying. She gives the baby her finger and he seems content.

The OB cleans her up a bit then takes the baby to clean him up. Her eyes never leave her son. “E, we don’t have a name for him,” she realizes out loud.

“We don’t have to think of one at this moment,” Ethan tells her. “I mean, up until an hour ago, we didn’t even know about him. I think we can take a day or two before we name him.”

She nods as her son is handed back to her. The OB leaves the room. Kayleigh snaps a picture of the three of them and says, “Sending this to Rut so he can show the guys. I think they’ll want to know that a future hockey star was just born.”

Ethan laughs and Kayleigh leaves the room to give them a moment alone with their baby boy. She caresses her son’s cheek and tears up.

“I already love him,” she admits. “This is our son, Ethan. We have a baby.”

He kisses the side of her head. “You’re gonna be the best mom,” he tells her. She looks up at him. Ethan wipes away the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “We’re going to be the best parents. The team is going to spoil him so much.”

“So are we,” she laughs as she looks down at baby boy Edwards. “We have nine months of lost time to make up for since he decided to be a little surprise.”

Ethan laughs and gives his son one of his fingers. “We do.”

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #umich hockey fic #umich fic #ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Breakfast

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT

Locked in a bathroom stall with a hungry vampire was not how you planned to spent your time hiding from a herd. Inspired by a post by @norman-fucking-reedus

The herd came out of nowhere, giving you no other option but to be yanked into the tiny toilet stall of the abandoned restaurant.

Bless it for at least having a seat cover so you could sit down while you waited.

Daryl was breathing heavy below you, clearly at his limits after the morning's hunt failed too thanks to possibly the same walkers ruining your camping spot for the day.

You also thanked the overgrown greenery that covered most of the milky glass above you, keeping the sun away from you to a point where it would't hurt Daryl.

"Hey, you gotta eat." You patted his cheek and held out your wrist to his mouth. "It'll be fine, I can't go out and hunt for you now."

He went rigid and shoved you off him, against the stall door. It was as far as you could go seeing your situation. "No humans. Ya know wha' happened. Ya saw me."

You huffed and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "So you killed that guy, we all hated him anyways. He was harrasing you." Taking your hands out of your pockets again, you had materialized one of your tiny knives and flipped it open. "I'm not scared. And you love me too much to kill me." With a wide smile you sat back in his lap again. "Come on, you need the energy. I have my food in my bag, I'll be okay."

It was clear he didn't want to, but he knew it was his only choice if he wanted to make it out alive. Neither of you had any idea how long the herd was gonna stick around and while you could survive two days on your rations, Daryl would be unconcious by nightfall if he didn't feed.

"Yer insane, ya know tha, right?" He shook his head but still braced himself for what he was about to do.

You had straddled him in the most comfortable position you could get in and ran your fingers through his hair to calm him, ever so slowly pressing his face closer to your neck. You were pressed up against each other with no change to get away now, and with a last deep breath you felt Daryl's lips against your skin. He kissed a few times before the harsh sting of his fangs made you tense up. A soft gasp and a squeeze of the strands of hair you held onto went on deaf ears as he busied himself feeding off you.

And god, it felt.. good? It stung at first, but the gentle sucking now went straight down to your core.

But it was clear you weren't the only one enjoying it more than you though, feeling Daryl grow hard in his jeans underneath you.

While you kept one hand in his hair to yank if he got too far, you lowered the other one down to his pants and worked on getting him out of them. He must hurt so bad..

You rolled your hips in trial and earned a moan so deep you didn't think he had it in him. He was normally so quiet.

You pulled his head back but kept yourself attached, moving to shove off one sneaker. With your pants undone and off one leg you sat back down on his lap fully bare before going back to working on his pants, freeing him and continueing to rub against him. "Do I taste that good, baby?"

"Mhmmm.." A rut of his hips and a positive moan answered for you, wasting no more time and lining him up with your entrance and letting him push all the way in, a soft rut with each suck on your neck. You tried your best to keep your moans as quiet as possible but it was difficult with how good it all felt.

Once he was all the way inside he finally took his mouth off you with a deep intake of air. "Fuck, yer even crazier than I thought.." The punctures still bled, slowly trickling down the neckline of your shirt before they were being lapped up in rythm with Daryl's thrusts that kept picking up the pace.

You planned to ride him slowly while he fed but he was holding you still and fucking up into you like he was possessed.

With just one hand he kept your hips in place while the other had your body pressed against him, giving him the perfect angle to keep licking and sucking at your neck while he mumbled praises against your skin.

"D.. Daryl please, fuck, my legs.." You weren't made for bathroom stall sex and especially not while being drained by a very blood drunk vampire.

You held no power against him, every tug to move him was futile. You had to power through the feeling of your legs becoming like jello and his body rubbing against your clit with every thrust. His grunts were getting more frantic. Wet, openmouthed kisses trailed all the way around your neck before he sucked hard on the puncture wounds and you felt the blood flow out in a gush.

He didn't swallow, instead seal his lips and move his hand up to pull at the back of your head and shove his mouth against yours. As his tongue forced its way into your mouth a good amount of blood followed, running out the corners of your mouth and making a mess all over yourselves. His kisses were never very coordinated but this was messy, grunts and moans, open mouthed and all teeth and tongue as you both chased your highs. Your fingers tugging his hair and rubbing your clit between your bodies.

Clenching around him, so close to your climax you hastened your touches and gathered yourself to meet his thrusts halfway to intensify the feeling.

You finished with a harsh bite on Daryl's tongue to muffle your sounds and pulled him right over the edge with you.

He let go of your hip then and you slumped against him, groaning in protest as he licked at the bitemarks on your neck. "Daryl, no.. please.." You barely mamaged to raise your hand to push at him, but he ensured you it was needed. "Helps healin'. Jus' relax." You felt his smile against your skin and let yourself breathe.

"So.." You leaned back a bit to look him in the eyes. "Changed your mind about humans?" Your sneaky smile had him let out a breathy laugh.

"Ya know wha? I'll keep ya with me fer emergencies." He licked his lips, cleaning some blood off them as you weakly smacked his arm and giggled.

Damn. You really had to get cleaned up and eat something..

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #twd daryl x reader #twd x reader #twd smut #twd au #vampire #vampires

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣

A Fair Trade

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,980

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.

Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.

Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.

To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.

Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.

Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.

Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.

But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.

Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.

The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.

The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.

You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.

"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."

You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.

"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.

On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.

"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.

However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.

"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.

"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.

"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.

The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.

"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"

The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.

"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the fuck ever." he grunted.

You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.

"Where's my bag you took from me?"

Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.

As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.

The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.

"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.

You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.

"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.

You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.

"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.

You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.

"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."

You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.

"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.

"Mmm. How about you crawl?"

You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.

"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.

He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.

"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.

Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.

Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.

"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."

You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"

Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.

"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.

"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.

The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.

"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."

Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.

Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.

One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.

The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.

After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.

It was going to be a long night.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here.

Mark's POV

"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.

Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.

"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.

"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.

"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."

His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”

"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."

He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?

Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."

Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.

---

The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.

I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.

But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.

Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.

"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.

We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"

I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.

"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.

Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.

As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.

"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."

"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.

I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.

"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.

Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.

Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."

I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."

I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.

The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.

Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.

"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.

He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.

Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."

I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.

"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."

With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.

We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."

He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"

"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."

To be continued…

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XIX

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII

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

“So that’s what the old man wanted,” Satoru said as he took the lollipop out of his mouth and held it before his eyes. “Did you accept?”

Gojo had been hanging out with you in the teacher’s room when you were called for a meeting with principal Yaga and principal Gakuganji, who had come to visit the Tokyo school.

You shook your head in silence.

“He said I should think about it and give him my response before he leaves in two days.” You leaned against the wall just as Satoru was doing.

He had an amused smile on his face. “What is it now? He gets bored he goes talent hunting for Kyoto?”

You and Satoru had both been teaching at the Tokyo school for little over a year, and during that time, Yaga had told you once or twice that you could teach at Kyoto if you wanted to, they were sort of understaffed there as of lately and it would be a good opportunity, and you had always refused him, but when the offer came from Gakuganji himself, why had you not said anything immediately?

“So, are you going to think about it?" Satoru’s voice interrupted your thoughts, just as the image of him would always interrupt them whenever you had thought of leaving, of taking a different path.

In your early twenties, there were still many paths you could take, but you knew the same did not hold true for Satoru. You could be offered a position in Kyoto or assigned anywhere else, but Satoru could never leave Tokyo for the long-term, he was needed there more than anywhere.

“Do you think I should?” you asked him.

As much as Satoru wanted to say he would support any decision you made, he did not really like the idea of you moving to a different city. Even if Kyoto was not awfully far away, it would still probably mean that he would not see you as much, so what he said instead was:

“If you feel like you can’t handle the curses nor the students here, yeah, sure, think about it.”

He was smirking mockingly, and you knew he was just joking, but the side gaze he was giving you seemed to indicate he did not want you to think about it.

“It’s you the one I can’t handle here. Good luck to the one who has to keep you in check when I leave.” You nudged him.

“If it worries you that much, you should stay,” Satoru said and put the lollipop back in his mouth. His tone was as playful as before, and his words sounded lighthearted.

You two bantered a little more before both of you had to go to back to your students, but before you parted, he said:

“You love this city, and the students love you, and I... " For a second, you thought he was going to say he loved you too, but what he said was "I think you should stay here too.”

And so you did.

Had Satoru ever felt bad about telling you to stay? He had sometimes doubted he should have done it.

Had he been happy when you had stayed by his side while you bid farewell to Gakuganji two days later? Very.

***

When you opened your eyes, it took you a second to remember why the bed felt different. It was not your bed but Satoru’s, and the form next to you was the owner of the bed himself.

After coming back in, you had gone to sleep. Satoru believed that, since his bed was big enough to fit both of you with some room in between, you could just share it, but there had been two factors you had not considered : 1) Satoru was a clingy sleeper, and even if he had laid down on the other side of the bed, it would not take him long to roll into your side and put an arm around you, and 2) how flustered you would be when he did it.

It was a habit, and you had never considered it more than that before. Even when you were younger, Satoru would just lay down next to you, usually leaving some room between the two as to not purposefully touch you, but when he was asleep, he always ended up pressed to you.

Maybe he unconsciously searches for warmth when he sleeps.

Some time ago, the last time you had slept in Satoru’s room because he had been intoxicated and ended in a similar situation, you had been trying to get over him. Now you could not help but wonder if this could be what life would be like for you two if you were together. Would you spend more time at his place or at yours? Would you sleep together every night? Would he kiss you goodnight and snuggle next to you instead of awkwardly getting under the sheets on the opposite side of the bed as he had done today?

Would we be happy together?

You turned on your side to take a better look of Satoru with the little light that filtered from outside, but the movement seemed to awake him.

“What is it?” his voice was soft and if he noticed the way his arm was wrapped around you, he did not show any intention of removing it. “Can’t sleep?”

You shook your head. “I was just wondering if we would be happy.”

He smiled lazily and blinked slowly as if his eyes wanted to go back to sleep. “We have been happy, haven’t we?”

We have, you thought. And didn’t someone said once that if something works, you should not try to fix it?

You looked at him, his eyes that held the skies in them, his sharp features that could look so soft when he was relaxed like this, his lips that had touched yours a few times and had felt as soft as they looked.

“I know, but don’t you think things will change if we…?” you stopped talking realizing Satoru had closed his eyes again, likely giving up against the need for sleep.

But when you moved lightly under his arm, you heard him murmur “We will be happier, I know it.”

And maybe it was the way he was holding onto you or how comfortable it felt, but you believed him.

***

“Are you alone?” Shoko’s voice came soundly and clearly from Satoru’s phone, and he directed a quick glance at you to see if you had heard it.

Why would she ask him that?

You appeared to understand his look as a cue to leave him alone in his living room and Shoko took his silence as an indication that he was indeed not alone, so she continued.

“Are you with [name]?”

Satoru finally spoke. “They just left the room. Were you trying to reach them?”

Shoko seemed to hesitate for a second. “No… I just wanted to check if they were taking missions tonight. If they are with you, it should be fine.”

“What do you mean?” Satoru thought it odd that Shoko called for that. Why had she not called you instead?

“Gojo, I think there is something you need to know about.”

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

Note: Huh... Realizing now that I'm not consistent when it comes to parts' length. Anyways...

Thank you for reading!

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #or maybe angst? #pay it no mind

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation

I can't believe I finally did it. I was so afraid to use my powers I got and now look at me. A fat kid like me would never walk around like this. Parading around

I still feel guilty though

14 hours ago:

My family spoke about receiving my powers for many years. They all got their chance for a few years when they were young but one day their power run out when they got too old. It took a few years for each person.

But now I was the youngest out of our family and they all were looking forward to use my powers to swap them into younger bodies. I hated this idea, cause they usually picked a family they knew and replaced them. What did my family do with the other swapped family are you asking? You don't wanna know.

And that's why I escaped the night before my family got their hands on me. I couldn't let another family get killed of like so many before. I just have to swap soon enough before my family finds me a tries to use me for themselves. Unfortunately it won't be easy, cause after centuries of swapping, they got themselves into the higher class and got enough money to do whatever they wanted.

I ran through the forest with my backpack and got to the nearest road. It was the middle of the night and there weren't cars nearby. I walked for an hour and arrived to a 24/7 diner. Perfect. I can hitchhike from here.

The only three people in the diner were the chef, waitress and some guy. He looked like a bussiness man coming from some trip. Sipped his coffee, maybe heading somewhere and trying to get some cofein to not fall asleep behind the wheel.

I aproached him:"Hey, I was just wondering if you were taking hitchhikers by any chance?" I asked with a shaky voice.

He looked at me with his exhausted eyes:"Where are you heading? Got a name kid?"

"North," I exclaimed, " and the name is Kenneth. Nice to meet you."

I saw a spark in his eyes. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Really? North? There isn't anything but wilderness for miles." I didn't respond. And just nodded. He continued:"Well we got a lot to talk about then"

We headed to the car. He was driving a black Toyota. That's all I could say about that car. I knew shit about cars

His car was clean, but he had a lot of bags in the trunk. Probably from the business trip, I thought.

An hour of smalltalk about my life and himself followed. His name was Matthew, and he worked as a marketer on west coast. He quit university a few years ago and went on to get more money. From the talk all I could notice was the way his hands moved, his beautifully manly hands. His biceps was carefully wrapped around by the blue short sleeve of his T-shirt. I could only imagine what it would be like to kiss his beard and continue to his chest. Burry myself there. I wondered if he was hairy there just as his arms were.

As I was dreaming about this beautiful specimen I didn't even notice that he made a few slight turns. As he kept talking and I was admiring him, out of the pitch black forest a diner emerged. The same diner we came back from.

I looked at him horrified

"You didn't think that your parents would let you get away? Sorry for the change of your plans for the vacation, but your family needs you and I was promised a lot of money. So I gotta get you back."

Fuck. No. I can't let this happen. I can't go back. I gotta find a way out of here.

The doors were locked, so there was no way I was getting out of there. Begging didn't seem like a valid option. I noticed the time 2:09. It's my birthday. I wonder. If this doesn't work then I am dead. If I don't do anything my family will use me. I can't let the happen.

I concentrated hard enough. I have never swapped before, but I knew how from my family. They all went through it many times.

I felt warmth coming straight from my head, following to my hands.

We were few miles from my home

Now or never

I jumping at him. My right hand grabbing the wheel and turning it to the right. My left hand grabbing his shoulder.

A moment of darkness. For a short glimpse I saw my own face shocked and screaming. Then we hit the tree.

I got out of the car as soon as possible. My body didn't move. I killed him. I did the same thing, like my family to all the others.

I ran to the backseat, grabbed my backpack a ran striaght to the forest. I could hear sirens in the distance. I have to run now.

Present

I think it has been far enough for now. The forest ened with a beautiful large meadow between two massive mountains. Sun already shined and I could slow down for a minute.

I took off my ripped shirt and jeans. If someone saw them they would think that a bear attacked.

In my view were now two beautifully sculpted hairy pecs and even more beautiful abs. I went through every ridge my fingers found. The skin was tigh and warm. After the run I completely forgot I was now Matthew. Not Jake anymore. But Matthew. Beautiful hot sexy Matthew.

I spoke out. What a manly voice I now possess I though. My hand touching my neck and the other my lips and beard as I spoke. I smelled my armpit. The stentch of sweat was extremely strong but erotic. I went to admire my new hairy legs. I slowly started from my strong thighs, through the thick carpet of hair covering them, following to my new feet. I took off the shoes. My feet are massive now.

The last thing I didn't see yet was already awaiting hard. I got completely naked. There I was. A man! A hot sexy man. Sculpted like a statue with a hard and large dick in hand. I jerked off slowly and with my other hand I kept on exploring the already touched areas. I went on to masturbate rapidly just until the streams of cum kept pouring out off me.

I stood there smiling, laughing.

And then the clarity hit. I took Matthew's life. I did that to stop my family, but that didn't make it easier.

There was no going back now. I took my backpack and the rest of my clothes that weren't destroyed, hoping I would get a chance to get some on the way.

"I am Matthew Daniels and I am on a vacation. I am Matthew."

I went into the beautiful nature to continue my journey. I still feel guilty. Maybe the feeling will pass. I hope...

#body swap #male body swap #Swap power #Family swap

[youcouldmakealife]

KS Fill: Gabe/Stephen; not on the list

For the prompt: I would say Gabe and Stephen’s wedding because I want that more than anything in the world, but I suspect that’s coming without my prompt? But if it’s not… 

It would come either way, probably, but this started the ball rolling.

More Gabe and Stephen, more lists. No actual wedding, but we get pretty damn adjacent.

Gabe knew the list would backfire the moment Stephen started making it. He even told Stephen as much, but Stephen just shrugged a shoulder and kept working on it. He got into it as it grew too, enjoying it so much that Gabe told himself he was probably worrying about nothing.

And maybe the list wouldn’t have been a problem if the only person he’d told about it was Gabe. Probably would have been fine even if knowledge of it extended to the Marksons and Petersens, which happened sooner rather than later.

But telling Gabe’s teammates — that was a mistake.

“A what list?” Jared asks when Stephen first mentions it.

“An anti-wedding list,” Stephen says.

Bryce sits up. “You guys aren’t getting married?”

From this angle, Gabe can’t see how withering the look Stephen gives Bryce is, but the kick Jared aims at his ankle is probably related.

“Obviously we’re getting married,” Stephen says, like he wasn’t panicking for a good few days after they got engaged, and only the potential wrath of Miriam Markson kept him from fleeing on the next flight out of Vancouver. “It’s a list of shit we don’t want at our wedding.”

“Um,” Bryce says.

“You know,” Stephen says. “The wedding traditions we’re vetoing.”

“We is such a strong word,” Gabe says.

“Unanimous approval or none at all, Gabriel,” Stephen says. "A veto only needs one."

He's right. And Gabe guesses he would know, consdiering he's the one vetoing everything.

“So wait, what exactly are you vetoing?” Jared says.

“Nobody’s wearing white,” Stephen says, starting to tick items off on his fingers. “I mean, white dress shirts are fine, obviously, but nobody’s a virgin here, we’re not doing any all in white shit. No flower girls or ring bearers. No little groom cake toppers. Fuck knows there aren’t going to be any garters involved. I don’t remember the rest off the top of my head, but I have it all written down."

“I like the little grooms,” Bryce says, sounding hurt. Gabe hasn’t seen any pictures from Bryce and Jared’s wedding, since it was very much on the down-low — and he truly wishes he could see how those two managed to put together a wedding on the sly when they couldn't even sit across from each other without Gabe figuring out they were married — but he bets there were little grooms on top of their cake. He also bets Bryce still has those little dudes hanging around somewhere.

“Can I see the list?” Jared asks. “I’m kind of curious how many our wedding had.”

“Sure,” Stephen says, with a hand wave. “I’ll email it to you when I’m finished. Have a few more items to add first.”

“Cool,” Jared says.

After Bryce and Jared leave, Gabe mentions it might not be a good idea to send Jared the list, but Stephen just scoffs.

“What’s he going to do?” Stephen says. “Wear white to my wedding? Put little grooms on his piece of cake? He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not going to anything that actually fucks with the day, he’s not Dmitry.”

“Our wedding,” Gabe says.

“Oh come on, you already know what’s mine is yours,” Stephen says.

“You stabbed me with a chopstick over the last soup dumpling last night,” Gabe says.

“Stop saying I stabbed you,” Stephen says. “I didn’t even break the skin.”

“It hurt,” Gabe says, and Stephen takes his hand, planting an officious kiss on the back of it.

“Better?” Stephen asks.

“It was the other hand,” Gabe says, smiling when Stephen sighs dramatically before kissing it too.

“You’re really going to give Math that list?” Gabe says. “Blind trust isn’t usually your thing.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll lead to something hideous,” Stephen says. “But think of it this way: your idiot teammates are going to do something, so I may as well give them some parameters.”

“Huh,” Gabe says. “Good point.”

“I’m not exactly new to this, you know,” Stephen says.

“No, I know,” Gabe says.

At least whatever it is that’s coming, it won’t come out of the blue.

~

Gabe did not foresee this. Sure, when he gave Stevie and Dima and Bullet bachelor party planning rights he anticipated some variety of disaster, but he underestimated them, he thinks. Or overestimated them. There was some mis-estimation occurring.

He looks around. What initially looked like chaos seems oddly recognisable. Almost familiar.

It’s sort of wedding themed, which makes sense, considering the occasion, but everything’s slightly off, and not just because they’re in a venue more suited to clubbing than matrimony.

His eyes land on the big cake at the centre of everything. It looks more like the kind Gabe saw at Cup celebrations than a wedding one, decorated to look like a rink, with two little figures at centre ice. He’s too far to see the details, but he’s pretty sure they’re hockey figurines rather than grooms, and someone has decided to use the manipulable joints for, well, evil probably isn’t the right word, but maybe immaturity — Gabe’s pretty sure one of them is straddling the other. He guesses he should just be grateful no mounting is taking place, considering Dima’s probably the responsible party.

There are so many elements, and they don’t seem to fit together at all — elegant baskets of flowers that look almost painstakingly put together, surrounded by a scatter of rainbow confetti that feels like it's moonlighting from a completely different event. Some kind of crooner — Bublé? — playing, also from a completely different event. None of it seems to fit Gabe's picture of a bachelor party planned and attended by hockey players, even if the wives and girlfriends present also got involved in the planning.

It’s the guests themselves that help Gabe put it together. There was clearly a dress code, one that only Gabe and Stephen weren’t informed about, everyone all in white, neon bright under the black light. Like an item of a list come to life. Like one of many items of a list come to life.

He can see Stephen put it together a mere moment after he does, his eyes narrowing, mouth going flat. Playing at unimpressed for the — many — eyes currently on them, avidly waiting for a reaction.

“I’m going to fucking kill Jared,” Stephen says, and Gabe decides not to tell him just how proud he sounds.

“I wonder which one of the Canucks is wearing the garter,” Gabe says, and grins when Stephen forgets his audience and his composure for a moment, throwing his head back with a laugh.

#fic snippet #gabe markson #stephen petersen #jared matheson #bryce marcus #dmitry kurmazov

[thegnomelord]

Gnome, my good man, what's your thought on a trickster spirit!reader within the cod monsterverse? Like, he can be a malicious or a purely mischievous spirit who likes to mess with things and play around. As all spirits are, he's a free one, and refuses to be tied down—relationship wise. Which would probably be for some good angst in regards to one/some of the boys pinning for an unrequited!reader. Anyways, I can just see him being an absolute menace to the other boys :3

Better yet if he's a regular fuckbuddy, but even during sex he's still running his mouth, making crude jokes or some offhand comment that makes his current buddy all "???". The only way to shut trickster!reader is to stuff his mouth with some dick or ride/fuck him so good all he can get out is a bunch of whorish moans.

Just.... thoughts on trickster spirit!reader 😞😞

ooooh yessss, trickster spirit reader like anansi that's very clever but also a fucking troll. Reader that's an absolute menace to anyone in charge, a giant pain in the skull that takes every word seriously, as Price figured out when he remarked 'It's raining cats and dogs' and trickster reader literally made it rain cats or dogs, or some general said trickster reader was driving him up the wall so he ended up stuck on the ceiling lol.

Also I absolutely love love love the idea of brat reader and brat tamer 141. Like, you're a free spirit, to try and chain you don't is about as good of an idea as making the spirit of the sea stay with the sailor who loves her, and the old heartless man of the sea can tell you how well that goes.

So the boys let you roam, they let you have your fun; Holding your gaze across the bar when you're flirting with a faceless stranger, not pushing when you shrug their hand off your shoulder to go grind dance with a person you just met, biting back and resisting following you when you disappear to the bathroom for a quick fuck. You're not oblivious of their jealousy, your kin thrive on creating these emotions in others, and quite frankly it's fun to see how far you can push them.

But oh, little trickster, they may let you do as you please, but that doesn't mean your actions don't have consequences.

MDNI

Eventually you burn away all their patience, eventually, the need to show you why it's them you always return to burns too hot and you end up pinned on the bed, or the floor, or whatever semi-flat surface is around.

This time you're pinned beneath Soap who's half shifted, big burly body bruising your hips with the strength of each bounce, sharp claws digging into your ribs to give him a good hold on you. The headboard bashes against the wall every time he fully drops down on you, the springs creaking and digging into your back.

"Fuck puppy-" You moan so loudly you're sure half the base can hear but you can't give a single fuck about it when his ass is so tight around your cock. "So good- shit, you feel- fuck, fuck, fuck- really know how to chase that bone huh- hm!-" Your mouth runs automatically, the your hands sneaking out of the handcuffs easily so you can grip his hips.

Soap is beyond words, animalistic wolf brain too preoccupied with getting your cock as deep in his ass as he can. His tail wags back and forth, wide canine tongue stuck out of his mouth as he bounces on your cock harder, thick thigs tensing to drive you deeper into his velvet soft depths.

"Oh no you don't." Gaz snickers and snatches your arms. He's much more graceful than Soap when he sits on your chest, leaning over you and pinning your hands over your head. "You didn't let us touch you, you're not touching us." He smirks, the tip of his cock laying against your lips, and you could be fooled into thinking he's a trickster too.

You grin and purposely clench your teeth, looking up at him with challenge.

Gaz clicks his tongue, keeping your arms pinned over your head with one hand. His other hand curls into your hair and tugs just as Soap clenches around you. You're in no way responsible for the whorish moan that falls from your lips, eyes closing and mouth opening.

Your eyes fly open when Gaz pushes his hips and shoves half his cock into your mouth. "There you go, got your tongue." Gaz chuckles, pushing his dick a bit deeper. Another sharp tug is all it takes for your mouth to close around his shaft, eyes hooded, hollowing your cheeks as you suck on his cock. Gaz's cock muffles your moans when you get a taste of his precum as it beads down your throat, your mind melting through your cock as the two sergeants fuck all that trickster intelligence out of you.

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz smut #monster cod au #cod monster au #monster 141 au #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader

[wosoluver]

Little family

Part 3

Lena x reader

"Obi can you give me a ride to training this week? I have to take my car to get fixed. This morning I ubered here."

"What? Why didn't you text me? I would've gave you a ride this morning too."

"I didn't want to be a bother." you said tying up your boots

"You're never a bother.

Be careful you're going to drop Libby!" she said moving to get the plushie bunny before she fell from the bench to the floor. Putting it sitting on top of her own stuff.

You just nodded thankfully at her, as the two of you walked out to the field.

Unknowingly to you, your friends stayed behind just so they could comment on the unbelievable scene that had unfolded before them.

"There's actually no way! They are literally an old married couple!" said Georgia.

"It's driving me insane to watch them be so oblivious!" said Lea as she tied up her hair.

"I swear if I have to go through this one more week..." said Syd as she turned around. "Do something Libby! Like, haven't you chose Lena as your other mom already?"

"You want a teddy bear to do something?" asked Pernille. "You do something!"

"Fine!" answered Syd.

"Fine?" a few of the girls said in unison, confused by what she meant.

"We should set up a plan to get them to confess!" she answered once again.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." said Sam.

"Come on! The worst thing that can happen is them getting married in secret so they don't have to invite us." she tried to reason.

"Fuck it, I'm in!" said Lea.

"Well, that didn't take much convincing.

I'll help too." said Georgia.

And some of them joined in too.

"We might need Libby."

"I don't know if-"

When it was time to leave, after getting cleaned up, you turned to Lena.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, do you want to stop at the coffee shop?"

You only nodded. Walking to the car side by side.

And the girls stayed behind once again.

"I don't think she noticed." said Georgia.

"She'll notice trust me."

As she parked the car on the usual spot you always were in, you reached for the bunny, only she wasn't there.

"Obi, are you carrying Libby?"

"I don't have her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's not with me."

"But you left her along with your stuff!"

"I thought you had grabbed her from it."

"Why would I?! I always trust you with her!" your tone rising.

"Okay, I know you're nervous, but I'm on your side here. I would never be careless with something you care so much about! I won't ever put you on that situation! That's not how you treat someone you love." she blurred out in the heat of the moment.

You took a pause to recompose yourself and make sure your heart didn't leave your body.

She most likely didn't mean it like that, and you were just trying to feel some sort of mutual feeling from her.

"Sorry, for almost yelling at you. You're one of the best friends I have, I know y-"

"Best... friend?" she asked, almost coming out as a whisper.

"Yeah, sorry if you don't feel like that, it's totally fine. We can be just, friends?" you said scared to say anything else wrong.

Obi simply shook her head in disbelief. Had she just confessed she felt something more? And had you just turned her down?

"No! I mean I like you more than a friend, more than a best friend." she said with a defeat look on her face.

"You...do?"

And she only nodded, avoiding your eyes.

"I do too." you said with a hand on her cheek, making sure she was looking your way.

You stared at each other for a bit, just taking in the moment. Before she calmly pressed her lips onto yours.

"Let's go back to get her." she said as soon as you parted, resting her forehead on yours. Still with her eyes closed, but she could feel you nodding your head.

meanwhile the girls were still sitting around waiting for you two to show up, to look for your bunny.

"I'm loosing hope, I don't think they're coming back anytime soon." said Pernille.

Some were siting on the bench or the floor, others were lying around. Lea was about to protest when you walked in, holding onto Lena's hand. Immediately spotting the plushie sitting in the middle of the room.

"Did it work?!" screamed Syd.

"Why are you all still here? And what do you mean by that?" you wanted a confession, already suspecting then.

They all looked at each other.

"It was Sydney's idea!" said Georgia.

"No! Pernille was the one who said so!"

"Only because you all wouldn't quit complaining about them being so unaware!"

You and Obi shared a look, shaking your heads and letting out a slight laugh.

"We should have known." she said.

"So?" asked Lea waiting for a resolution.

And you only hid your face in Lena's neck, becoming shy from all the looks, and she placed a small kiss on your forehead.

As they all cheered loudly.

And Lea grabbed Libby before covering her eyes. "Get a room!" joining in with a joke

Again thank you to the amazing anon who came up with the idea for Little family! 🩷

Requests are open!

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Furia

Chapter Twenty Three

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Isaac/Tamara,

Word Count: 1780

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, the thing is they hurt each other a lot, most of the time without meaning to.

A/N: We pick up right where we left off. Trouble tries to get ready to go out on tour, Dean sets off alarms.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t fair, you were not being fair. But that didn’t change that sick feeling crawling up your throat. Face burning, you looked at Dean who was pointedly not looking at you. You counted the deep breaths he took, his nostrils flared less the longer you sat in suffocating silence.

You should have said something.

You had no idea how to take it back. It wasn’t even what you said, it was how you said it, so derisively.

You wanted to disappear.

The traffic on the freeway only seemed to get worse the longer you sat. It had been a good day, even with Dean’s snippiness over the Rolling Stone article. Why did you have to open your big mouth?!

You bit the inside of your cheek, you were not going to cry. You knew how guys felt about girls crying, it’s a cop out, or a pathetic ‘get out of jail free’ card. Despite knowing girls usually cried out of frustration rather than actual sadness. You didn’t want to come off as pandering or fucking weak.

“Look—- I don’t want to make you do something you’re uncomfortable with. But, we’ve all seen how well the press and the fans have responded to you two. Is this something I need to put the brakes on? Because I need to know before we start touring.”

Dean huffed. “It’s fine—- it’s not about Bela, okay? It was just an honest question.”

You waited because it felt like he had more to say. You owed it to him to let him say his piece.

He let out a self deprecating chuckle. “You really think it’s just because I’m a horndog, I’d want out?”

“Dean— I didn’t mean it like that, I—”

“No, you did. You were very clear. I just gotta know, Y/N, is there no other reason you can think of for me to want out than some easy lay?”

He wasn’t even pretending to keep his eyes on the road anymore. His jaw was tight and his eyes were dark and glossy and every hope you’d ever had fluttered in your stomach.

You were supposed to say something back.

But you had already said too much.

You couldn’t lose him over something as avoidable as a misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry— I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t— nu-uh, that’s not what I asked. I don’t want your apology, here, okay? Just—- tell me there’s something else that could get me out of this without being the bad guy.”

It hurt to look at him. 

But God was it even harder to look away.

“I can talk to Crowley— work out a timeline if you want?”

Dean shook his head, looked to the ceiling of the impala, and exhaled deeply. “No—- we’re good. But if you ever think of an answer. I want to hear you say it.”

You looked down at your lap, your phone case biting into your palm where you squeezed it. 

“I don’t know what you’re fishing for, Dean. I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologize, but I feel like I can’t help but put my foot in my mouth tonight.”

“It’s okay, Trouble. No hard feelings. Promise.”

You looked up to make sure he wasn’t still pissed.

“Seriously?”

Dean’s mouth twitched with a ghost of a smile. “Seriously.”

It wasn’t until you were safe and distracted with drinks and everyone else at Elizabeth’s that you realized Dean had called you by your real name. You couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

No one really talks about the non-glamourous tasks required before going on tour. Especially not the ones that have nothing to do with the music and everything to do with leaving your home for months on end. Your personal to-do list always fell by the wayside when it came to the band, but you were running out of time on it now. In less than 48 hours, the opening act would take the stage. 

And three days after that you would officially be on the road, for nearly six months straight. 

You shoved a quart of half-eaten fried rice into a garbage bag and moved onto the vegetable drawer. Cleaning out the fridge didn’t take very long, but going through your pantry was a nightmare. When did you even buy half of this shit?! The cans would last, but a lot of the boxed stuff was already halfway to expiring so you set them aside to drop off somewhere over the next couple of days. 

Then you wiped everything down.

By the time the kitchen surfaces were done, you were sweaty and gross. But you had too much momentum to stop there. You swept and mopped the floor. You took a breath and pushed on. Later that evening while taking out the trash, your neighbor, Isaac, waved at you over the half-fence.

“Getting ready to get back on the road then?” His accent was pleasant as ever.

You sighed and blew a stray strand of hair out of your eyes. “Getting there. I never understand how much I need to clean with it just being me. But here I am, like usual.”

He poked at some meat on the grill as he made conversation. “Tam said we’re due over tomorrow to go over things before you leave?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, anytime after you both get home from work is fine, I’ll just be forcing myself to actually pack at that point. I really appreciate you guys looking over the place.”

“It’s nothing really. Plus you more than compensate us for it, love.”

“I know, but still.” You looked down at your dust streaked tshirt and ratty sweats and decided you had been out in the world long enough looking like that. “Alright, I better get back inside. See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

“TTFN!”

You smiled to yourself as you stepped back inside through the side door. You were so lucky to have good neighbors, especially with the way your job worked. Dean had told you all about Tamara and Isaac before you moved in, making sure you knew everything from the seriousness of not asking about kids to the humor of not insulting classic Doctor Who.

When Dean remembered, he’d still meet Isaac at one of the few English style pubs for a football match every now and again.

And they didn’t seem to mind housesitting for you whenever you needed.

The smell of the dry rub from Isaac’s grill haunted you as you went back into your clean, yet emptied out kitchen. It just meant another night of delivery was in your future.

You woke up grumpy from an incessant buzzing coming from your phone. The first notification was from Twitter and you opened it without checking anything else.

Ugh, okay, fine. Dean dropped Bela off late last night. You weren’t too worried about it. So you tried to go back to sleep. But a nagging feeling in the back of your mind kept prodding the possibilities into your thoughts.

Before jumping to any conclusions, you got out of bed and started a pot of coffee.

There had been a lot of little things you had to ignore in the day-to-day of being the band’s publicist, and even more you had to try and bury as their friend. Cas’ penchant for banging journalists was one of the ongoing thorns in your side. And of course all of Lee and Pamela’s on-again-off-again nonsense came up more than was even happening. But Dean knew how to leave a hook up. He also knew when he was being tailed. 

This entire headline smelled fishy.

You bit your lip and opened your contacts. It was still too early for a business call, especially since you knew he was out until after bar close, but you couldn’t wait any longer for answers.

The phone rang in your ear and you silently begged your coffee pot to brew faster. Dean answered just before it would have sent you to his voicemail.

“I’m up— where’s the fire?” Dean mumbled into the microphone.

Without any preamble, you started in on the questions. “Have you seen the latest? People are up in arms over you squealing out of Bela’s driveway this morning. What happened?” 

“Uh, hold on,” Dean must have moved the phone or covered the mouthpiece because you could hear his voice rumbling, but couldn’t make out a single thing he said. Then came a bunch of muted background noises and a door opening and closing. “Okay, wanna run that past me again? Slower and without the accusatory tone— it’s not even fucking nine am, Trouble.”

Your suspicions continued to rise. “Where are you?”

“In a hallway.”

Not ‘the’ hallway, not ‘my’ hallway, an unspecified singular hallway.

“Dean—”

“Look. The paps were fucking vultures last night, I caught one of them trying to lowjack Baby. So, I ditched her, and Sam got her back home safe. I circled back after I knew they’d scattered and I stayed put. There’s nothing to worry about. Just people trying to make me look bad for being too smart for their slimy ways.”

Your brain hissed like a television left between channels, not a signal coming or going in either direction.

“You’re at Bela’s.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yep.”

Your business brain rebooted, slowly.

“Trouble?”

You called him, you should have said something already. “Okay, so, uh, I guess just make sure to leave publicly. Or go out for breakfast or something. Just don’t leave it how they’re spinning it.”

Dean huffed. “Makes sense. Anything else?”

“Tomorrow is the morning show interview, you said you’d pick me up? Is that still gonna happen or should I just get an Uber? I’ll just call an Uber.”

“I mean, yeah, gotta be home to drag Sam with anyway. So you don’t gotta. We’ll be there with bells on right at five.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“I should go—”

“Right, of course. Bye.”

“Talk to you later.”

You hung up and your coffee pot finally whistled, signaling it had completed brewing.

You moved through your morning routine in a fog. Even when Bela posted a gorgeous fruit plate between matching mimosas sometime before noon, you only gave it a heart and moved on to folding your next load of laundry. Once you let yourself look at what was happening, you gave into the anger. You screamed into an old hoodie until you were hoarse.

Dean was actually sleeping with Bela.

Your two best friends were fucking.

The same best friends you had set up to help make your job easier.

What the fuck was your life?

And how the hell were you supposed to pretend any of this was okay?!

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #but is it even fake anymore #dean angst

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry really should’ve expected something like this, but he’s still bewildered.

(And more than a little pissed off.)

Of course some bastard managed to enter him as the fifth champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

...Well. There are four schools participating, but “Quadwizard Tournament” doesn’t have the same ring to it.

There are several people shouting at each other and him in a variety of languages, and while he has no idea what they’re saying, he gets the gist of it: how did this scrawny fifth year have the audacity to trick the Goblet of Fire and enter the prestigious (and deadly) tournament?

He wishes they’d ask him so he could clear up that he hadn’t done that, and he doesn’t want to take part in this tournament, and they’re all being world-class prats right now.

Well. Except for Cedric Diggory. He just looks a bit confused, bless him.

Dumbledore asks him if he put his name in, and he says no, and maybe he overestimated these people because pretty much all of them scoff and don’t believe him. 

The Koldovstoretz champion’s voice cuts through the hullabaloo and says, in barely accented English, “If he is required to participate, why not let him forfeit?”

Thank Merlin, there’s a voice of reason in all this idiocy.

All eyes turn to the tall young man – Tom Riddle, Harry’d heard the name said by his love-struck peers enough times since the other schools arrived to remember it – who looks politely disinterested in the chaos around him.

“That sounds good to me,” Harry says, hoping that’ll be the end of it.

But of course it isn’t. 

The Durmstrang headmaster sneers something that sounds awfully rude at Riddle in a language Harry doesn’t recognise, which makes the boy tense and darkens his eyes. And then the shouting starts up again.

For all that the gathered headmistresses and headmasters and students were arguing against his participation before, they’re now demanding that he take responsibility and not besmirch the tournament’s prestigious history nor the Goblet’s choice by bowing out. Harry is once again of the opinion that there is no continuity or logic in the thinking of magical people, so he zones out like he does when Uncle Vernon wants to rant at him.

As the group finally quiets down and Dumbledore explains what the next steps are for the champions, Harry tunes back in to listen with half an ear. The other schools’ representatives send him dark looks as they depart, while Cedric gives him a pensive frown. Dumbledore ignores Harry’s attempts to catch his eye and disappears as soon as the discussion ends.

Well that’s just great.

Harry decides to head back to the Gryffindor common room – he needs to vent his anger at this madness to his friends, who will hopefully have his back.

(Though, the look on Ron’s face when Harry’s name had been called… No. Ron knows him better than that.)

Before he gets too far, he hears a voice call, “Harry Potter.”

He turns reluctantly, hoping it’s not another person ready to call him an attention-seeker or cheat, to find Tom Riddle.

Feeling his shoulders lower from his ears where they’d risen in pre-emptive defensiveness, Harry manages a half-hearted smile for the older boy. “Hey. Thanks for trying to help, back there.”

Riddle shrugs and somehow makes the motion elegant. “It was obvious you did not want to be chosen." 

Harry thought so, but apparently they're the only two of that opinion. “What did the Durmstrang headmaster say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” Riddle says dismissively. When Harry doesn’t relent, he clarifies, “Igor Karkaroff rejected my application to Durmstrang because I’m not a pureblood. I’m sure you can imagine his opinion of me – and my blood – hasn’t changed in the intervening years.”

Harry can feel his hackles rise. Yes, he can imagine – he’s heard what the pureblood bigots have said about Hermione and the other muggleborn students over the years.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there?” Harry says, grinning sharply. “We’ll both just have to–” absolutely crush them all “–prove them all wrong.”

Riddle’s eyebrows rise slightly and one side of his mouth twitches. “I suppose we will.”

Harry holds out a hand. “May the best champion win.”

Riddle accepts the handshake. “Indeed. I’m glad to have your support.” 

Delivered in a perfect deadpan, it takes Harry a couple moments to realise the other boy is making a joke. He laughs, and Riddle finally lets his face break into a grin.

—

When Riddle uses parseltongue to get past the Peruvian Vipertooth (“What were they thinking, including a human-eating dragon?” Hermione demands when Harry first sees her after the first task) and retrieves the egg in less than two minutes, it causes an uproar. How did someone with Slytherin’s gift, who was born on British soil, not end up going to Hogwarts? The details of Riddle’s first introduction to magic and meeting with Professor Dumbledore are splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet the following day.

Needless to say, the headmaster is in a bit of hot water with the Hogwarts board of trustees and the pureblood crowd.

(Karkaroff is looking decidedly pale, too.)

Harry thinks he’s the only one who sees the vengeful grin on Riddle’s face while everyone else is staring at Dumbledore getting dressed down. When Harry congratulates Riddle later that day, he knows the older boy understands it’s for more than just retrieving the egg the fastest.

(As for his performance in the first task, Harry’s content with how he did against the Hungarian Horntail, even if he’d gotten a little singed. He might be in second place, but he’s nipping at Riddle’s heels.)

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarrymort #koldovstoretz tom beloved #triwizard tournament #same-ish age au #tom isn't joking

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

How do you think Peeta could join the Careers at 74th Hunger Games?

What did he do? Duel with another career? Killing another tributes on the Cornucopia?

Do you think before The Rule Change (2 victors from the same district), Peeta already determined to help Katniss becoming the winner? Thoughts?

Thank you :)

@curiousnonny

*clears throat and smacks a binder on the podium*

I have thoughts @curiousnonnyblog. Even if this one has also been sitting in my inbox for freaking ever.

Then the boy from 4. I didn't expect that one, usually all the Careers make it through the first day. - The Hunger Games, chapter 11

I just get a glimpse of Peeta, lit by a torch, heading back to the girl by the fire. His face is swollen with bruises. There's a bloody bandage on one arm, and from the sound of his gait, he's limping somewhat. I remember him shaking his head, telling me not to go into the fight for the supplies, when all along, all along he'd planned to throw himself into the thick of things. Just the opposite of what Haymitch had told him to do. - The Hunger Games, chapter 12

And finally:

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife. Is he? That's news. What a lot of interesting things I'm learning about my friend Peeta today. - The Hunger Games, chapter 12

Okay. Hear me out. when Katniss first sees Peeta after the mayhem of the blood bath is over, he's injured. He's clearly been in a fight. And the Careers provide further evidence for that by saying that he's "handy with that knife," which is information Katniss didn't have about him. She never saw him wield a knife during training because Haymitch told them not to show off their greatest strengths in training, and Peeta didn't even consider her wrestling experience as useful in terms of hand to hand combat until Katniss pointed it out.

So here's my theory. When Peeta asks Haymitch to train separate from Katniss, it's because he knows he's going to try to team up with the Careers, for a couple of reasons. 1) Peeta has zero hunting and wilderness survival skills. Teaming up with the Careers is his best chance, other than teaming up with Katniss herself, at not starving. But also 2) The Careers are the most obvious threat the Katniss's survival in the Games. So teaming up with them allows him to keep tabs on them, to "mislead them about [Katniss]," which she comments on him doing without giving details when they're watching the recap of the Games. It also gives him the chance to help her out or buy her time in certain situations, as with the tracker jacker tree. He gets them to stop actively threatening her, which buys her time to come up with a solution.

I'll come back to Peeta's teaming up with the Careers as a survival strategy for Katniss in a minute. But first... how did he join the Careers?

I think that was something set up in advance between Haymitch and the mentors of the Career Districts. However, while the Careers know he got a training score of 8, in book world, they have no idea why. They're going to want proof that he's somehow useful, beyond getting their hands on Katniss, who they'd see as their biggest competition along with Thresh. So how to prove he can hang with the Careers? One of them attacks Peeta during the blood bath.

And Peeta's already admitted that while he doesn't want to kill anyone, he would if it came down to it. So I think the boy from 4 drew the short straw, so to speak, and had to test the upstart from 12 wanting to be in their pack. And Peeta won that fight, explaining why he's injured, how he wound up in the Career pack, and also how they know that he's good with a knife.

Careers in the arena are only going to see two reasons to call someone "handy with that knife." I doubt Peeta killed an animal for food because honestly he's too beat up for me to believe that interpretation, and also it's too early in the Games for the Careers to need food. They have all the Cornucopia supplies still. So at that point being "handy with a knife" means they saw Peeta fight with it and win.

Why wouldn't Katniss tell us this? Because she wouldn't have deemed it important. It probably looked exactly like self defense, not going down without a fight on film. Maybe Peeta wasn't even expecting it, although I doubt Haymitch left him unprepared to face a challenge like that. The point is, Katniss would view him killing the boy from 4 as a moot point in terms of how she views him as a person, how she sees his character. She's far more concerned with how he reacts to accidentally poisoning Foxface because that wasn't self defense. She wasn't yet a threat to either Peeta or Katniss.

Which brings me to Katniss's comment about Peeta running into the bloodbath being the exact opposite of what Haymitch told him to do. Yeah, that is what he tells them both to do on the night of the interviews. But who's to say he didn't pull Peeta aside after that and give him a different set of advice? Whose to say that Haymitch hadn't already prepped Peeta during their private training sessions for getting caught in the bloodbath or jumped by the Careers right after?

As for your last question, I think Peeta decided to fight for one of 12's tributes to survive from the moment he asked Haymitch to train separately. Perhaps even before that. I've talked about it before HERE and also HERE but the gist is that Peeta wanted his death to mean something, and since he didn't think he could win the Games, he wanted whoever did win the Games to help the people he cared about back home in 12, which would be Katniss. And there is something to be said about how subversive that is, in and of itself. It's not new to the Games for the Tributes to show compassion for each other, as we see with Haymitch and Maysilee, and with several of the tributes in Ballads, but it is extremely rare for a tribute to willingly sacrifice themselves for another. I think Peeta was prepared to die for Katniss to win, in part because not only would her win benefit their district and everyone he cares about, but he's also aware from book 1 that her family needs her to survive while his will be just fine without him. He's trying to do the most good with his death, and I think that the rule change when they allow 2 victors is actually when Peeta allows himself to hope for his own survival too. Up to that point, I think he was preparing himself to die.

#thg thoughts #curiousnonny #curiousnonnyblog #anonymous #look at that ask

[tylersnecktattoo]

Stargazing with Steve Rogers

Warnings: none. Just fluff.

——————————————————————

You leaned in more to Steve, watching the stars and he wrapped a protective arm around you, getting more comfortable on the grass you both are currently laying on as you enjoyed your 5th date together.

“The moon is really beautiful tonight” you murmur, watching the moonlight being the strongest it has ever been in a long time. “the stars too. I really like watching the stars”

Steve smiles down on you, “that’s why I brought you here”

You can’t help but let the butterflies flutter crazy in your stomach every time he looks at you that way. And the thing that drove you even more crazy was that he picked up that small little detail you told him during one of your dates, that you liked stargazing. And he listened and remembered. So now here you are, having the most romantic date you’ve ever had, with picnic at this little spot Steve found, watching the stars as he holds you close. It felt like a movie. And speaking of movies, this is the part where one of the partners always talk and show their significant other constellations. So that’s what you decided to do for the hell of it even though you had no idea about it

“See those stars over there? The ones that form a triangle?” You point at a random batch of stars you saw

“What about them?”

“That’s The Umbrella” you randomly said, although it sounded kind of believable?

Steve raises his brows at you, “you’re into constellations?”

You grin amusedly, kind of proud of yourself that you managed to trick him “mhm. And that one’s The Bear. See? Because of its rectangular form?” You confidently say and you guide his hand to point at another batch of random stars.

He chuckles lightly and nuzzles your hair. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You let out a giggle. “No I’m just full of shit. Made all that up”

He raises a quizzical brow at you which makes you explain yourself furthermore, “this all just seemed so cliche. Like, in every romantic movie there’s this couple stargazing and then some of them just randomly knows something about constellations. Thought it’d be funny to recreate that”

Steve smirks softly and slowly hovers on top of you, “and I thought I was different doing something original” he says with a faked defeated look

“You are different.” You softly say with those damn eyes that makes him fall like a teenager all over again. He is genuinely captivated by your beauty and he can’t stop. It’s like you cast a spell on him.

“And you are really beautiful” he compliments as he moves a piece of hair out of your face, getting a better look at the blush that is forming on your cheeks which makes him smile even more. You were just so goddamn cute.

“Can I add some originality to this cliche by giving my beautiful lady a kiss?” He says with a boyish grin, which makes you smile like an idiot for his gentlemanliness.

“Well, I really liked how you kissed me goodnight last time”

“Then I’ll make sure it’ll be better than that, sweetheart” he replies which makes your heart bloom at the nickname before he cups your face and press his lips against yours. And God, it was like you were made for his lips every time you kissed, lips perfectly molded against each other in a slow and tender kiss, Steve’s big hands caress your face while the other one runs through your hair

Once you both pull out for air he rests his forehead against yours and smiles. “Was that original enough?”

You mirror his smile as you jokingly pretend to think, “hmm, I’m not quite sure. I think you’ll need to kiss me again for that”

“With pleasure, my lady” and with that, your lips are connected again and he could swear his heart would jump out of his chest when he felt you smiling against the kiss and caress the back of his head. You were gonna be the death of him.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers drabble #chris evans drabble #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

[lookingfts]

Protective sugar daddy Anthony is it. Can we see anything of him being protective of Kate? *swoon*

She didn't want to call him. Genuinely, she didn't. It was embarrassing, and he would think she was young and stupid - or younger and stupider than he already did. But her phone was on three percent (not her fault, Eddie had thought it a wise idea to unplug it so she could charge her tablet) and would be long dead before an Uber came. Assuming, of course, that they would even come this far out.

Cursing Siena for the twelfth time for leaving with some random, she took a steeling breath and tapped on Anthony’s number.

“Hey,” he said, sounding a bit confused. It was nearly two in the morning, but from what she’d seen, Anthony didn’t sleep very much. “Are you okay?”

“Not really?” Recalling the low battery, Kate thought she might as well spit it all out. “I’m at this party with no way home and I’m honestly super drunk and tired and I was wondering if you would pick me up because my phone is really close to dying.”

There was a sharp inhale on the other line. “Text me the address, I’ll be right there. And wait inside, I don’t want you outside alone.”

“Okay.” She hung up and texted him the address, putting her phone back to sleep. Her heart fluttered a little at the now-familiar concern in his voice. Maybe it was the tequila talking, but Anthony had a way of making her feel…cared for. Safe. It was probably just a side effect of being the oldest of eight siblings, but Kate let herself be won over by it anyway. Just for tonight, just while she was drunk and not responsible for her silly and naive musings.

She watched from the window. Anthony’s Tesla pulled up thirty minutes later, and she stumbled a bit in her heels as she walked down the driveway. Anthony was already getting out, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her bare shoulders. “Christ, you must be freezing.”

“I’m fine, but thank you.” The cold air was actually quite sobering, though she could hear her words slurring slightly. Placing a hand on his chest, right over his heart, she looked up at his worried expression. “Thank you. I know it’s late.”

Anthony shook his head. “I don’t care about that. I’m glad you called me, Kate. Always call me.”

She was having a bit of trouble processing that as he held the door open for her and she slid into the passenger seat. Kate had always been the person everyone else called in an emergency, but it didn’t usually go both ways. Would Anthony really be there anytime she needed him? Or was that just another hollow promise?

God, she was too drunk for this.

Kate laid back in the seat and let the warmth of the heater thaw her out. “Drink that,” Anthony said, pointing to the unopened bottle of water in the center console. “I’ll get you some paracetamol when we’re back at mine.”

Of course they were going back to his flat. It wasn’t even a discussion. Even if a part of her bristled at the demand, the rest of her was a little relieved that she wouldn’t have to find the correct key to her flat or find her phone charger or take off her dress or her makeup or her heels. Anthony would make sure she got into bed as functionally as possible.

She opened the water and took a long sip, feeling like a new person. Clearly she was dehydrated.

“Kate,” he sighed, placing a gentle hand on her knee. Surprisingly chaste, far below the hem that hit at her mid-thighs. “You scared me tonight. You shouldn’t be out alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I was with my friend, but she left.”

Anthony swallowed, his face still obviously tense. “I know I don’t have any say in what you do when you’re not with me,” he said deliberately. “But I still worry about you.”

Sliding her hand over his, she squeezed his fingers. “I like that you worry about me,” she admitted in a small voice, letting the alcohol embolden her to speak what was in her heart. Just for tonight.

The only indication that he’d heard her was his thumb pressing into her skin, but Kate thought she knew what he meant, anyway.

#sugar daddy au #bridgerton #kanthony #asks and answers #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton fic