#the feels had to go somewhere so I made this

[alexias-putellas]

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

barça femení x teen!reader

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

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

-

are you sure?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it was your fault after all.

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

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

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

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

“i’m sure.”

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

[haikyu-mp4]

To feel seen

word count; 680 – f!reader who wears glasses

Tsukishima was reading a paleontological magazine he got from his brother, headphones on as he occasionally bopped his head the slightest bit as if he wasn’t sitting in his classroom during lunch period. Yamaguchi was sick today and left his best friend in his own company, which he really didn’t have a problem with.

What he did have a problem with was seeing how that guy from the class next door sauntered right through the door and over to you. Your seat was in front of Kei, and to put all formalities aside, he liked you. From afar. He would never admit to it, not to himself and not to anyone else, but the fact is that he did. So as he watched this guy approach you, he discreetly moved one side of his earphones back on his head, looking at the corner of what he was now just pretending to read.

“You look beautiful as ever, y/n,” he said, leaning one hand on your desk, which made you carefully lean back a bit and chuckle awkwardly. You adjusted your glasses and tried to be polite.

“Thank you, that’s very kind, but I am trying to have my lunch.” The corner of Tsukishima’s mouth lifted.

Unfortunately, this guy was persistent. It’s not the first time he was in there for you, but it’s the first time he brought you something. “I know, so I got you a strawberry soda.” he said, putting said beverage down on the desk and doing a little ‘tadaa’-like movement with his hands.

Tsukishima could not believe what he heard. What an idiot! She doesn’t like soda…

Why is it suddenly so silent? He slowly looked up from the magazine, and he could swear his heart did something weird when he saw your face was turned towards him and lips parted in what seemed like surprise. Both you and your admirer were looking at him because he said that aloud, he realised.

“How do you know that, Stinkyshima?” the guy said in an annoyed voice, and Tsukki could just hear from the tone that he must have overheard that nickname from Hinata. Somewhere down the hall, Tsukki hoped the tangerine could feel his curses in the form of a sneeze.

Tsukishima was about to try and excuse himself from the conversation, but then he looked at you again. Your shoulders were more relaxed and there was some kind of sparkle in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. “She says it all the time,” fell from his lips, and it made you feel so seen.

You cleared your throat, gathering some courage as Tsukishima initiated mission ‘avoid eye contact’. Turning back around to the front, you smiled kindly at the boy who had repeatedly tried to win your affection. You picked up the soda and held it up to him so he could take it back. “Thank you, but he’s right.”

At the end of the next school day, your friends tried to quickly pull you with them so you could all go to a karaoke place like you planned, but you told them you’d catch up and slowly turned to Tsukishima’s desk where he was putting everything away in his bag at his own pace. You bit your lip nervously as you stepped up beside him, and he startled a bit but hoped you didn’t notice.

“I saw this and it made me think of you,” you said and put something on his desk before turning around and promptly escaping to catch up with your friends before you could see his reaction. Tsukishima picked it up, hooking his finger through a keychain and holding it up so he could see it. Dangling from it was a small brachiosaurus balancing a volleyball on its head.

You bet that was hanging from his bag from that day forward, and anyone who dared make fun of it would get his ugliest glare along with whatever insult he could muster up.

Soon, maybe the two of you would do everyone a favour and stop admiring each other from afar.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukki

[foreingersgod]

could you write something about attending Caitlins game and sitting courtside and her dedicating each shot to you

All For You . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin dedicates all her shots to you <3

you’ve always attended your girlfriends games, only missing a rare few. watching her out on the court in her element made you feel so proud, you wouldn’t miss that feeling for the world. you constantly reminded her how amazing she was, on and off the court. that she was the most amazing player you’ve ever seen.

and she’d blush, hiding her face in your neck all while thanking you for coming to the game. ‘as if i’d voluntarily miss it’ you’d reply. she would tell you how much it actually meant to her, that you’d show up every time. just for her.

“i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you” is what she’d say, pressed up against you in bed after each game, running her fingers up and down your supple skin. “i hope you know that”

you’d shake your head, telling her no. because, to you, it was all her. the endless practices, the meltdowns of frustration that motivated her to keep going. that was all her doing, you were just here to support her.

caitlin understood that, yes, she’s put in a lot of hard work. but she couldn’t figure out why you would think you didn’t play a part in all this. if you weren’t there court-side every night, if you didn’t calm her down when she was frustrated, if you didn’t clean her up and nurse her back to health when she pushed it too far? she wouldn’t have all these titles and awards nor all the praise and attention.

so she took it upon herself to make you understand how much you truly have done for her.

she pledged to herself that every shot she took from this point forward, was devoted to you. caitlin had always kept you in mind when she scored, but every shot to her was just to get ahead. in reality, she discovered, she was really shooting for you. and she needed to show you that. you needed to understand that you were always on her mind, whether that be outside of the court or not.

it was a friday night, iowa was playing against lsu, and you were getting ready to leave the apartment. caitlin had left earlier in the afternoon for practice and warmups, and you let her know you’d be rooting for her somewhere in the crowd, just like you always did.

before you could make it to your front door, hands not even on the handle, your phone vibrated. pulling the phone out of your back pocket, a text from caitlin caught your eye.

cait <3: keep your eyes on me tonight, ok? want you to see something.

your brows furrowed slightly in confusion. what was she planning?

you: i always do, what are you up to this time?

cait <3: just trust me ;)

you chuckled to yourself, she was trouble.

you quickly realized you were late after being momentarily distracted by your girlfriend. snatching your bag and shoving your phone back into its pocket, you were out the door and headed to the arena.

they were just beginning introductions for the teams as you made your way to your seat. close enough to the floor that you could be easily spotted by your girl, but enough back that you weren’t front and center. the lights to the arena dimmed, colorful lights flashing and speakers booming as they called your girlfriends name. you watched as she stood from her seat and waltzed out onto the floor. she was glowing, hearing how her fans chanted her name as she hyped up the crowd. it warmed your heart to see her this happy.

before you knew it, the game was starting up. sneakers squeaked against polished wood as the girls defended the ball against lsu. they attempted a shot, missing it as caitlin rebounded the ball. she was slick on the court, gliding right past the opponents, dribbling the ball with ease. your eyes never left her figure like you were told.

you watched as she made it across the court. an lsu player, you have to admit, was doing an incredible job guarding her. but caitlin did what she does best. taking a large step back, almost to half court, caitlin took a deep shot against her defender. the entire crowd watched as the ball flew in the air, swishing straight through the net effortlessly. everyone erupted with chanting and applause, she was remarkable.

after her shot drained into the hoop, she turned to where you sat in the audience. you watched her closely, still clapping for her. she found you in an instant, locking eyes with you. she smiled and raised her hands, forming a heart with her fingers. she held in close to her chest then pointed to you, indicating that she made the shot for you. she mouthed a quick ‘for you’ to you up in the stands before catching up to her team on the other side of the arena. a flustered smile spread across your face as you watched her.

just when you thought she couldn’t get any better as a girlfriend or an athlete in general, here she was, dedicating shots to you.

as the game progressed and as iowa held onto a massive lead, caitlin kept blowing everyone away with her incredible shots. and each time, when the ball went through the net, caitlin isolated you from the crowd to make the same heart gesture. it was like clockwork and you’ll be honest, you never got tired of it. it made your heart swell to think that she was making those shots just for you.

once the clock buzzed and the game ended, you waited for the crowd to fizzle out before making your way down to the locker room. after each game you would wait on a small bench in the hall just outside and wait for caitlin to meet you. this night was no exception. you were perched on the bench, legs bouncing with anticipation to see your girl.

minutes went by until you heard the doors open with a click. your head snapped in its direction to see caitlin meandering over to you, an exhausted smile on her face.

“baby!” you cheered, running over to her and hugging her tightly “you were amazing as always, i’m so so so proud of you, cait!”

you pulled away from the hug and looked up to take in her appearance. she always looked so beautiful to you, no matter the sweat or grime or exhaustion. she was a work of art.

“thanks, babe” she leaned down to place a sweet kiss upon your lips.

“always” you pulled her in deeper as your arms draped around the back of her neck.

“how’d you like my new signature move?” you could feel her smile as she mumbled against your lips.

“oh my god” you laughed “i loved it, cait you definitely don’t have to do that for me!”

“the hell i don’t” she teased “i say it time and time again, you’re the reason i’m where i’m at today. the least i could do is dedicate my shots to you. it’s all for you.”

you could probably cry right there. the fact that she thought so highly of you, just for being her support, made you feel so special. caitlin had to be the most selfless person you’d ever met.

“i’m so lucky to have you” you said, hands falling down to her biceps where they gave a gentle squeeze “i love you so much, cait”

“i love you too” she replied “thank you for being with me through all this, i’m the one who’s lucky”

that night, you followed tradition. caitlin pressed up against you, the warmth of her skin soaking into your bare back. sheets draped over the two of you and your legs intertwined. her fingers skimmed over your arm, making you shiver. she whispered against the shell of your ear how much she loved you and reminding you once again that she wouldn’t be here without you. and while you still believed she didn’t give herself enough credit, you couldn’t help but smile when she reminded you just how much she loves you.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #foreingersgod

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

Goin’ Somewhere?

-C.S

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

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

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

{2ND PERSON POV.}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

C. H. R. I. S.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, pretty baby. I know.” He whispers, and you feel a new feeling. A feeling you hadn’t felt yet— ever. The feeling caught you off guard, feeling slightly more than the last few orgasms you had.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

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

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

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

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

[agirlcandream84]

we need more hc!!!! they're amazing!!!! what about bf!frank when you're mad at him/you two have a fight??? 🤭🤭🤭

Truth is, I'm sorta never not thinking about a next batch of headcanons and you kinda read my mind with the theme! Except I'm thinking of all the times Frank has been mad at YOU.

Times When Boyfriend!Frank Has Been Mad At You

Well, of course, that time your car broke down and his reaction to finding out.

One of the times Frank got mad at you was actually before you even really started dating but that didn't mean Frank wasn't already in deep and when he discovered you hired a Task Rabbit to haul out some old dresser out of your apartment -- he was stompin' down the hall in three steps asking "who's this jerk?" and when you told him he gave you an incredulous look going on about how a "pretty girl like you can't invite some random asshole into your apartment. Gonna get yourself killed like that" before he has you sit in the living room while he tells the confused man that he's got it from here and hauls the damn thing out himself.

Ok so we already know about that time that some dude on a crowded subway car rubbed his junk up against you while you were both smashed in during rush hour but did I mention that you failed to disclose that information to Frank for a week before he overheard your sister ask you if you saw the guy who "rubbed his junk into your ass" again since it last happened. You hear Frank mutter "what the fuck" from the other room before he appears in the doorway and says "Sweetheart, can I talk to you for second?" as he nods his head in the direction of the bedroom. Of course you try to deflect but he's insistent and that's when Frank launches into 1) a check to make sure you're ok and 2) when he's confirmed that you are ok, a lecture about withholding this from him. You try to tell him that you didn't want to make a "big thing" about it because it sadly happens to a lot of women and this only enrages Frank more and he's suddenly mad at All Men™️ for being disgusting assholes and obviously theres very little subway in your future.

Frank somehow got retroactively mad at you for walking home drunk from bars dozens of times in your younger days, before he even knew you. You were telling him stories of your partying days, chuckling at your disregard for good decision making, when you see the smile slide off his face and his signature scowl settles in while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Now hang on a minute sweetheart -- I don't like this shit. You coulda gotten hurt," and you're all "No Frank, I know now, I just--" but he cuts you off, his mind already decided on the next course of action-- self defense classes, taught by yours truly. Your eyes couldn't roll further back in your head but he just says "roll 'em all you want doll-- this ain't negotiable"

There was only one time Frank actually yelled at you -- like he was MAD mad -- and that's when you had gone in search of a cool thrift shop you'd heard about on Tik Tok but walked up to the place and it was inside of an enormous and decidedly creepy warehouse with no particular signage. The address looked right but this place looked all wrong. Against your own better judgement, you went in searching for the shop but it was just endless dark hallways and unmarked doors and the faint sound of men's laughter somewhere in the building. Your heart pounding in your chest, you started to feel incredibly unsafe. You probably weren't in any real danger but the vibes felt so wrong and it was the first time in your life you felt genuine fear. Like the kind that made you think you made a very bad mistake. You finally decided to turn back around and called Frank to come pick you up, bursting into tears. Of course he was there in a flash and vert pissed that you ignored your own instincts. "Your gut tells you to get out, you get out! Jesus Christ sweetheart, I know I taught you better than that." He's right and you know he's right so you're just a hiccuping mess, mad at yourself for being an idiot. Frank can't see you so upset for long so he's quickly tugging you into his chest and murmuring on the top of your head, "S'alright sweetheart. Just gotta listen to your instincts. M'not mad, alright?"

Also that time you accidentally spilled bleach on his favorite hoodie. He was just plain ol' pissed at that.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you to the pavement like a linebacker.

You collided and flew onto the grass. Better than concrete but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sabotaging my husband's relationships?

CW for discussions about sex, but I wouldn't say it's NSFW

In my country, arranged marriages are very common and this was how I (24F) got married with "Jason" (24M) (note that I said ARRANGED marriages, not FORCED marriages. An arranged marriage is basically when your family plays matchmaker with you and someone else, but it isn't forced). It's important to say I never wanted to get married and am for sure placed somewhere in the ace spectrum, because sex was never something important to me. But I knew Jason since we were kids and he was always nice to me, so I accepted to spend some time with him and see where it would go.

Turns out Jason and I had a lot in common. Our country is pretty religious, but neither of us saw that much importance in religion and just pretended to our families to not cause problems. We are both more on the introvert side and don't like crowds or big family reunions. When I told him about my feelings about sex and sexuality, he was sweet and understanding. We ended up becoming good friends and it was obvious the idea of marrying each other seemed appealing for us.

So we got married two years ago. We made a deal to be basically good friends who are married, to not have sex and sleep in different rooms. He was allowed to sleep with whoever he wanted since he was not getting this from me. Everything was perfectly fine.

Our families, however, really started to pressure us to have children this last year. Since this was so important to them, we agreed to, well, try. But first I asked him to make an STI exam since he had his fair share of casual sex and, even though he reassured me he always used protection, I wouldn't feel safe otherwise. After the exam showed he was clean, we had our first time together and it was great. Way better than I could ever imagine. After that, he noticed I liked it and asked if sex was in the equation of our relationship now. I said yes.

This was a few months ago and since then we've been having sex pretty regularly, but we also started to spend more time together outside of that, and I think my feelings of friendship for Jason are starting to change. Not only that, but I started to feel jealous of his casual relationships, especially his affair with this "Anna" girl (20sF) who he's been seeing regularly for the past months. I'm scared he starts to fall in love with her, because he always speaks highly of her and he seems to like her.

So I kinda started to sabotage his dates with her and other girls, in a way? I pretend to have headaches, to feel sick or sad or any other excuse so he has to stay with me instead of go see them. I know it's childish and maybe I should just talk to him about it, but I'm so scared he doesn't feel the same and things get weird between us. It's not like we can escape each other.

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

[apdreadful]

Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.

Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”

Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.

However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.

In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.

The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.

He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.

And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.

(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)

Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.

The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.

Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.

Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”

He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.

Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.

Brass Tacks my lovelies is..

Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.

And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.

Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?

Yep.

So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.

If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??

Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.

So stop playing at being flat earthers.

#Tommy totally ignited that bi 🔥 in Buck. #like a big ol bonfire WHOOSH #and I don’t blame Buck one bit #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 spoilers #buck x tommy #evan x tommy #bucktommy

[bel1ewrites]

Good Luck, Babe! (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

a/n: Long time no see......... Originally this was a Wanda Maximoff fanfic, but I needed Sam in a tank top again. ps. listen to Good Luck, Babe! by Chapell Roan if you want to understand this more or watch Stardew valley female farmer x Haley edits.

Description: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: Bar bathroom sex, bottom!reader, top!Sam, farmer!Sam, internalized homophobia, brief kissing of men :(, angst, mentions of alcohol

IT was getting difficult to keep track of the number of shots you’d gone through, each one drowning out your regrets more than the last. The bar was stuffy. It was full of sweaty bodies and slurred words, Friday night drawing most people from town to wind down from a week full of work. It was always a risk coming here, you knew that.

She frequented this bar, sipped on whiskey and laughed lightly with the other farmers at the bartop. But you didn’t care. Besides, you weren’t there for her! You weren’t. You were there to find a new boy to distract yourself with, to spend the night next to. 

The martini you’d ordered sat untouched in front of you, taunting you quietly as if reading your thoughts. 

“Hey there pretty lady,” a voice called from behind you, raised slightly so that you could hear him over the chatter. 

You turned on your stool, eyes met with a man. They all looked the same to you: like, well, men. This one had glasses, which was a good thing you’d supposed. He was handsome enough. His hair was dark, near black, and slicked back with a thick layer of gel. The thought of running your hands through the sticky mess made your stomach churn. Not because you didn’t like man hair! You just didn’t like gel, which was a valid reason that had nothing to do with his gender.

Running a hand through your hair, you put on your best smile and lowered your eyelids -a trick as old as time-. “Hi,” you said sweetly, offering him your name. His eyes lit up, beer hanging comfortably in his hand. 

The background noise grew louder, hoots coming from a number of men somewhere behind you. A mixture of, “Took you long enough!”s and “Look who decided to show up!”s grabbing your attention. You brushed it off, stayed facing away from the ruckus and tried to focus on gel boy’s words. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said smoothly, eyes running down your figure. “I’m Har-”

“Alright boys enough!” a familiar voice shot out through the room, rasped syllables filling your ears and sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t turn around, wouldn’t. Your feet stayed planted as her laugh sparked your body to life. 

You thought long and hard. Thought about what to do, where to go. You should stay, there was no reason to leave. And anyways, the night was far from over. The clock behind -Harley? Hardy?- the man read half past nine. No, you would stay and have fun with Har-what’s-it and you would go home with him if he asked and you wouldn’t think about a certain farmer with black hair and impressively skilled forearms. Forearms that were sculpted from lifting and plowing and planting. Forearms that you wanted to watch move as her hands found their way-

“Um, hello?” Har-gel asked, scratching his neck with his free hand. His cheeks were tinged with a slight pink. He seemed like a sweet guy, one who would marry a sweet girl and have babies with her. A girl who wasn’t you. 

You grasped the collar of his shirt, pulled him down towards you with your back pressed against the bartop. “Can we makeout?” you asked, eyes flicking down to his parted lips. They were chapped a little. You looked away from them. 

He didn’t hesitate, just placed his beer on the surface behind you and boxed you in with his arms, hips pressing to yours as he moved closer between your legs. 

The kiss was fine. It tasted like beer and the stubble on his chin poked yours painfully. It was fine, his tongue was in your mouth and like, that was fine you guessed. He was respectful with it, hands not venturing from their spot behind you. You waited, kissed back, went to run a hand through his hair and thought better of it. You waited some more. 

After what seemed like an eon, he pulled back. His cheeks were bright red and his glasses were foggy, lips a little swollen as his breath rushed out from them. You didn’t feel much of anything besides indifference. There was a pit in your stomach, one that you ignored entirely. It was probably something everyone experienced when they kissed a man, one that was meant to be pushed aside. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Har-don asked, gazing down at you with a look that was definitely meant to be attractive, and probably would’ve been if not for the shots in your system. 

“Yeah!” you said, smile painfully forced, “Just let me go use the restroom really quick.” he backed up as you went to stand, digging through your purse and setting two twenties down next to your drink. 

Your legs carried you to the women's room, hands fussing with the tangles he’d made in your hair. The dress you wore was one of your favorites, one that screamed summer. It was the perfect length for going out, not too short but not too long. It flowed around you as you pushed the bathroom door open, sighing with relief when you realized you were alone. 

When you met your eyes in the mirror, you couldn’t help but look away. You were ashamed, you felt like a fraud. The pit in your stomach grew, so you washed your hands to distract yourself. The water was cold as it rushed out of the faucet, soothing your overheated body and disarrayed mind while you watched it hit your skin. You stood there with your hands under the water for longer than normal, not even glancing up when the door opened.

Briefly, the sounds of the bar flooded the bathroom, fading as the door swung shut. Subconsciously you reached out, pushed on the soap dispenser and watched the foam fall into your dripping hand. You just needed a minute before you went back to the sweet man with the glasses, a second to collect yourself. 

“Got a lot on your mind?” a woman asked from behind you. Well, not just a woman. The woman. 

The woman who you shared your secrets with, who held you when you cried and listened to you say things like, “it's just not the way I am, Sam,” after the two of you got done fucking. She was the woman who made you believe in love, who showed you how colorful the world could be. 

Her hair was pulled back, a few stray pieces falling messily around her face. It was still dark, but the summer sun had brightened it up a little bit. She was clad in her work clothes, tank top tucked into her jeans, boots laced perfectly. It was easy to tell what she’d been up to the past few months, her toned arms and tanned skin hinting at long days spent on the farm. You forced your eyes away from her figure in the mirror, looking back at your hands in the water. 

“Nope,” you sighed, turning the water off and drying your hands. “Just freshening up.”

She huffed out a laugh, crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t blame you,” she admitted. “I’d wash my hands after that little show too.”

You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, movement halting momentarily, hands frozen in brown paper towels. You hadn’t meant for her to see that, not consciously at least. You just needed to distract yourself, just needed a minute to focus on something other than her. 

“If you came in here to slut shame me, I’m not in the mood,” your voice was cold, eyes catching hers in the mirror. You still hadn’t turned to face her. You couldn’t

Her brows pinched together, lips parting to say something before shutting again. Her tongue darted out the wet them. She took a step closer. “I didn’t mean- well, I did, but I’m sorry.” 

You shrugged, “not like I care.” You shoved the paper towels into the trash can next to you and leaned into the mirror, running a finger under your lip to fix the smudges there. The reminder of the feeling of stubble against your chin made your stomach churn, but your face remained impassive. 

You can hear Sam groan from behind you, probably pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer and thumb. “I hate when you say that.” 

“Say what?”

She took another step closer, the sound of her boots hitting the floor sending shocks to your system. “That you don’t care.”

You stayed quiet, looked at yourself in the mirror. You saw a girl, a fraud, a liar. You saw your future flash in front of you, an unhappy marriage, nothing more than some man’s wife. 

She was right behind you now, close enough that you could feel her presence like a promise. She put her hand on the counter, leaned forward until you could see her face in the peripheral. 

“Look at me.” she pleaded lowly, desperation in her tone. It was impossible to keep your eyes from meeting hers. She stood behind you, arms at her sides and gaze burning into you. Her body pressed into you as you leaned away from the mirror, her hands falling to your waist. “Tell me you want me to go,” she sighed, burying her face in your neck and inhaling. You couldn’t help but fall further into her. 

You said nothing, your own hands moving to grasp at hers and drag them up your body until she was hugging you from behind, breathing you in and squeezing. 

“Tell me to leave,” her voice was muffled in your neck, lips moving against your skin as she placed kisses there like last resorts. 

You shook your head, lashes fluttering as you gave into the feeling of her again. Her eyes met yours in the mirror, hands squeezing your flesh. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when she bit you softly, teeth digging into your jugular. 

“Say you want this,” she spoke the sentence like a prayer.

You couldn’t manage the words.

“Tell me you want me,” She ordered, voice hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could feel her hands shake slightly from where they were pressed into you. “Say it or I’ll leave right now. I swear, I’ll leave and pretend you never existed.” The words were sharp and final. 

All you could manage was a nod, brows drawn together in want. She moved, taking her face out of your neck and towering over you, though your height differences weren’t drastic. Her hands skated down your pelvis, landing on your hips and squeezing, pulling you into her. 

“Use your words,” she pried, eyes dark and pupils blown. 

You couldn’t. Your mouth was glued shut, it was impossible to say anything to her, impossible to do anything other than shake your head and squeeze her hands on your hips. You were so lost in her that you forgot all about the bar, all about the bathroom, the unlocked door. There was nothing but her. Her hands, her hair, her face, her mouth. 

She moved her hand, pushing you forward with a grip on the back of your neck and folding you over the counter. Heat rushed through you, settling in the bottom of your stomach and making you close your eyes. The counter was fairly long, seemingly built for fucking on top of. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassured you, her hand trailing down your back, the other still on your hip. “I’ll get you to say it.” 

You let out a high pitched squeak, a mix between a whine and a sound of shock when she pulled the skirt of your dress up, pushing it past your lower back. 

Her fingers ran over your skin, nails digging in as she dragged her hand lower and lower, pushing into you and leaning forward to speak in your ear. You moaned quietly, hips moving against the pressure of her still hand, seeking relief. “Would you have let him bend you over this counter,” she asked, kissing your shoulder. “What would he say if he saw this? If he saw you all desperate and needy for me, whining and begging for me to fuck you,” she looked at you, face pink and lips parted, and hummed. 

When she started moving her hand you had to bite into your lip to keep quiet, so hard that you were afraid you’d bleed. Her fingertips pressed into your clit, moving in calculated circles just how you liked it. She’d always been so good at reading you, at figuring out just what made you tick, what made you need her. 

“Please,” you panted when she slowed her hand, watching as she smiled menacingly from behind you before pulling the last layer of fabric down your parted legs. When she put her fingers back they were met with slick heat, the sound of her groan only making your need worse.

“Say it,” she said, running her fingers through you, feeling the way you wanted her. Her breathing stuttered when you let out a needy sound, her fingers pressing tight circles right where she knew you wanted them. It was too slow, you needed more.

You suppressed a moan, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“You used to be so good for me,” she pouted, pulling your hand away from your mouth and holding it behind your back with her free one. “What happened?”

Without warning, she slid two fingers into you, pulling a deep moan from you, too loud for a public bathroom. Her fingers pushed down, finding the spot that only she knew before you could even comprehend it. She fucked you like she meant it, hard thrusts powered by months of pent up need. It was scary how fast she was able to build you up, how fast she got you panting and begging. 

“Fuck,” you whined, straining your neck to look back at her for the first time, as opposed to her reflection in the mirror. 

“Face forward,” she ordered, pounding into you harder, “look at how pretty you are, taking me like this. Tell me you want this, baby.” Her voice was dripping with need, the steady rhythm of her thrusts hauling you closer. 

“Harder,” you groaned, pushing back into her and leaning up on your free arm. The fabric of your dress rubbed against your skin where it lay, the sensation was so dirty. You were being fucked over a bathroom sink, watching yourself get more and more pathetic as your ex buried her fingers in you.

Her thrusts grew softer, slower, enragingly delicate. “Say you fucking want me.” Her words were a stark contrast against the way she fucked you, the way she drew it out.

“Please, please Sam. I need it.” your mouth dropped open, little sounds flowing from it as she sped up again, fucking you just how she knew you liked it. Your eyes were closing of their own accord, struggling to stay open and watch as her muscles moved while she fucked you against a bar sink. 

“Good girl,” she smiled, letting go of your hand to rub your clit again. You almost fell as the pressure inside of you skyrocketed, becoming almost unbearable. “Now tell me who you belong to.”

You couldn’t comprehend her words, too focused on the orgasm that was quickly approaching, preparing your body for the shock of it. “I’m so close, baby, I’m so close. Just like that.”

Your cunt was throbbing with need, finally reunited with the person who knew you the best. All those months of fucking yourself would never amount to the way Sam did. The way she commanded your entire being.

She stopped moving. All movement stopped. Her hands, her body, her mouth. You almost cried as her fingers stilled inside of you. The orgasm rushed away, dissolving into painful pleasure and disappointment.

“No, no. Why did you stop? Sam, why?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“Wha-” she started moving again, slowly rubbing a spot deep inside of you. You sucked in a breath. You were so turned on it hurt, wetness running down your thighs.

“Say it,” she stressed, fingers moving on your clit again, your orgasm sparked back to life, slowly building again. The longer you waited the faster she went, working you back up until you were on the edge, one move away from cumming. 

“I’ll stop again and walk out of this goddamn bathroom so fast,” she growled over your moans. It was so hard to focus, you needed her so bad you couldn't breathe. "Who do you belong to? Who else fucks you like this?"

“You,” you choked out through a whine. Her thrusts sped up. You pulled her in with no resistance, clenching around her fingers and dripping with need “You. I belong to you, I’m yours. No one fucks me like you do, no one touches me like you do. Please let me cum Sam, please.”

The world seemed to pause when she leaned into you, kissing your neck and fucking you like you earned it. She was giving you all of herself, showing you who you belonged to and who you needed. Your brain was foggy, no sound came out of you as you came, cheek pressed against the counter and hands clenching into fists. Your elbow had given out, leaving you arched into the bar sink.

"That's it," Sam cooed, slowing down to fuck you through the wave of your orgasm, "You're so pretty."

Shock after shock hit, each one leaving you shaking even as she rested unmoving inside of you. "You did so good."

Your whole body was on fire, throbbing and twitching as you worked through it, Sam whispering praise in your ear.

She kissed your cheek, a sound of protest leaving you when she pulled her fingers out of you. You stayed still, your body moving with the force of your breaths.

"I locked the door when I came in," Sam smiled, rubbing your back soothingly.

You would ask her later, when you regained your ability to speak, how she knew to lock it. You would ask why she followed you, why she cared after you left her like she meant nothing. But for that moment, all you could do was lay there and listen to her love you.

#wlw #sapphic #lesbian #chapell roan #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #scream #screamxi #scream au #lesbianism #melissa barrera

[cherryredstars]

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #miguel atsv #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you

[weirdwonderfulworld]

i keep saying "one last thought" BUT I KEEP HAVING MORE and i type this one out as i am in literal tears ajshshsh.

i am not going to speak for steven bc he is a grown man with his own feelings and i have no business projecting my own feelings onto him but i will say there's something i feel asian americans are really good at doing and that's holding space for others. as a fil-am i think asian americans are so very good at stamping down our own needs and desires when it boils down to surviving, to navigating tough decisions, to making sure our loved ones can weather bad storms. i feel it's something usually so ingrained in our cultures, especially with first and second gen immigrants. and i could spend time here making the obvious connection here to steven but i won't.

what i want to do is extend my heart out to the watcher fans of color, specifically the asian friends in our community, and i want to give you back some of the space you held onto this past weekend. i know there are people out there who long ago joined this fandom for fun, then last friday, saw the fan response and was hit with this large wave of burden. because people were mad. and then people were cruel, in a way they might not even have understood. and you wanted to say something but there was nothing to say that wouldn't invite the same cruelty onto you.

out of three people behind a business decision, i saw one man receive the most hate for it. and the hate was so disproportionate, so deep and personal, that you knew the hate was coming from somewhere else that's usually unspoken. not everyone felt it, and it's not something any one person can describe to make them feel it. but maybe you felt it.

if so, i am so sorry that you had to hold that space, hold your tongue, and absorb it all. of course all folks won't feel this strongly affected but to the folks who do, to the ones who feel like this community has permanently changed for them, to the ones who are still grieving something that was never supposed to hurt them in this way—i am with you, i believe your pain, and i'm sorry that people are still trying to blame you for your own pain. i don't even know what else to say other than i love and support you. you're part of what made the original community so fun, inclusive, and welcoming. i hope you know that you're still so valued as a part of this community—maybe not the same exact one as before, but the one i want to see and create for us moving forward. some people will not hold the space for us, and to that, i say good riddance. together we can hold a kinder space large enough for us all... ❣❣

#watcher #thoughts #discourse #?not quite #so interesting how fandom discourse and backlash can be literally triggering but if you express that then you like. hate poor people sjsjsj #im using humor to cope but genuinely i am sending my love to you all! #im actually ready to move on now hoo boy

[ghouljams]

Ranger Danger; It's only stalking if they can't see you.

NCR Ranger!Gaz follows his favorite Courier.

Most people out in the Mojave know better than to fuck with couriers. Everyone wants the mail, and no one wants to get blacklisted. You were hired because you were a good shot, and unafraid of the various perils that traversing the wasteland brings. Which is to say: You don't need an escort.

You've tried explaining it to Gaz, tried to make him understand it, but he insists on following you through your route. He's not bad company, but it makes folks nervous having a ranger watching them hand you packages. Honestly if he weren't so easy on the eyes you might have tried harder to lose him. As it stands you just manage to convince him to wait outside of eyesight while you do business. Recently he's started trying a different approach.

"All the way to New California," You clarify with a raised brow.

"All the way doll," Gaz grins, "Easiest package you'll have to deliver, I even defend myself."

You eye him with suspicion. It's a long way to go, an even longer way back. You suppose you could pick up some packages along the way... You shake your head. "Can't afford it," you tell him.

"I can pay," He reminds you, "got plenty of money."

"NCR bills," You click your tongue, "not worth the paper they're printed on."

"Good with my hands," He tries, "better with my mouth."

"Yeah, you're a real smooth talker," you roll your eyes, "Don't need a mechanic, and as previously mentioned I'm takin' care of myself just fine." You pat the pistol at your hip fondly, well oiled and ready for action. Gaz hums, there's something in his eyes that says he wants to correct you, wants to rebuke your assertion, or perhaps clarify his own. He holds his tongue.

He's good company, but not company you're willing to risk your hide over. You've never had anyone watching your back, and to be honest it can be a little unnerving at times. Knowing Gaz is stationed somewhere far off with a rifle trained on you while you pass off bullets to a raider camp doesn't stop your skin from crawling. Like you said, most folks know better than to try and stop the mail from running. Even the raiders that eye you a little too appreciatively, and open doors wider for others to give you the same once over. It's the warning shot that startles you more than the swift smack to your ass when you turn to leave. You're quick to scurry off before the raiders decide that was your idea.

Gaz finds you miles down the road and hours later. His boots are bloody. You don't ask.

His hands are clean, at least, when you hand him a gecko kabob from the fire. You sleep better that night with him on watch, and the distant knowledge that any ill will those raiders may have had is dead. It's good you're such a deeper sleeper with Gaz around. You don't know the pride it inspires, the deep seated warmth in his chest to see the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, to hold his hand by your lips and feel the soft puff.

Maybe it's a little strange, but when you're asleep is the only time he can truly speak freely. The only time he can lean back and palm his cock to the pretty picture you make. He likes looking at your face when he does it, likes to imagine what you'd do if you woke up and saw him. You have to be the densest person in the Mojave not to notice he's got you on a short leash.

He would have you on your back screaming his name. He'd have you drooling in the dirt. He'd have your sweet pussy dripping with his come every time you made a delivery. Maybe having his spend rolling down your thighs would stop you from getting ogled every time you knocked on a raider's door.

"Fuck you 'til you forgot your name," Gaz grunts, "don't need to love me to come on my cock." But it would be better if you did.

#cod x reader #x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz smut #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #gaz call of duty #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #fallout au #I think my favorite gaz is when he's a little fucked up #he won't touch you but that doesn't mean he won't do stuff near you #very important line in the sand #courier!reader #f!reader

[zygomantic]

Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)

A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.

You're not alone.

Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.

Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts

You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.

Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.

Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.

Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.

It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.

By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.

Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.

"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."

It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.

"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."

Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.

Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "

"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.

"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-

"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.

"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen comfort #nanami kento comfort #nanami comfort #comfort #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #fluff #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk comfort #nanami fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #nanami x you #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader

[foreingersgod]

need need need something about Caitlin being obsessed with her girlfriend and talking about her non stop in interviews, insta ect

Obsessed . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin always finds a way to talk about you

A/N: NOT PROOF READ

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

1. interviews

it was the end of an amazing game, not just for iowa, but especially for caitlin. she hadn’t played a game that well in her entire career, scoring more than her average and making shots from deeper than ever before. she had everyone on their feet the entire night cheering for her as she completely annihilated the other team.

you were there to watch her, as you were every other game. watching caitlin play had to be one of your favorite, most rewarding things to watch as a girlfriend. she’s worked for hard for long and she was finally getting the recognition she deserves.

after the post-game excitement had worn off, the team prepared for the following interviews. typically, you didn’t stick around for them, opting to head home and wait for caitlin so you could congratulate her in your own special way. but with such an amazing game for caitlin, you decided to stick around and watch.

it was like she was a natural, surrounded by all the microphones and flashing cameras. she looked proud and confident, ready for any and all questions. they asked her the usual questions and she answered assertively. but one particular question caught your attention.

“the effort you’ve put into basketball has been apparent throughout your career, but your fans want to know more. who do you credit for keeping you so motivated and successful off the court?”

she bit back a smile, lip tugged between her teeth as she listened to the interviewer. caitlin looked out into the sea of people, eyes finding yours somewhere in the back before answering.

“yea, no there’s a lot of people i could think of that have been absolutely incredible,” she said “you know obviously my parents and bothers, my teammates and friends. they’ve all been really supportive of me. but i do also want to credit my girlfriend, YN. i mean she’s been there for me day after day, she’s really the reason i’m able to keep going and i definitely wouldn’t be where i’m at now if it weren’t for her. so yea, i have a truly amazing support group behind me, it’s wild.”

you couldn’t help but blush hearing her mention your name up there. she was so sweet and so modest when it came to things like this and she always made sure you knew how much she really needed you.

after the interview, she came up to you, sweaty and exhausted. a big goofy grin still glued to her face as she gravitated into you.

“i love you so much” she said to you “i meant what i said in there, i really don’t know what i’d do without you”

you pulled her into you tighter, so close you could feel her pulse as your lips met the back of her ear.

“i love you more”

2. social media

caitlin posted you on a regular basis at this point (and you posted her just as much). she was so whipped, always posting photos of you to her instagram to show you off.

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, katemartin03, and 799,403 others

caitlinclark22 obsessed with you @its.yn

view all 25,234 comments

its.yn baby :’)

⤷ caitlinclark22 it’s true <3

gabbie.marshall my moms actually

ur.sister the cutest couple everrrr

user7838 brb crying right now

caitandynfan PARENTS

katemartin03 this is making me tear up i’ll be honest

⤷ its.yn stawppp

caitlinclark22

♡ liked by its.yn, caitlinfan180, and 876,221 more

caitlinclark22 i’m in love with you in every universe, happy anniversary @its.yn

view all 36,479 comments

its.yn i’m actually so in love with you it’s insane

bueckersgirl52 this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

jadagyamfi soulmates fr

ynsbiggestfan i love them guys omg

3. around your friends

she honestly didn’t even know she did it because if she did, it would be way worse. the amount of times you got brought up in conversation was starting to get a bit ridiculous. yours and caitlin’s friends love the both of you, thought you were perfect for each other, but if they had to hear ‘YN said’ or ‘you know what happened with YN the other day?’ one. more. time. they were gonna lose it.

caitlin just loved talking about you. she spent every waking moment with you anyways so it was especially hard to not bring up in some sort of way. she really couldn’t care if her friends got sick of it or not.

“hey caitlin” kate asked as the team sat around the living room of your apartment. caitlin had invited the girls over to chill for the night, catch up without the weight of basketball hanging over their shoulders “i had meant to ask how that new restaurant downtown was?”

“oh man it was awesome” she responded “if you get the chance, definitely go. the food was incredible, you know me and YN actually wen-”

“caitlin i love you, but i swear to god please spare us from whatever mushy gushy relationship stuff you’re about to tell us” hannah chimed in from the seat next to caitlin. the girls laughed, glad she spoke up before caitlin began rambling about you again.

“whatever, you guys are just jealous” she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving hannah’s shoulder.

she didn’t mind how the team grew tired of her rambling, she probably would be too if she were them. but you were the soul thing that occupied her mind and she wouldn’t give that up for anything.

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark oneshot #cc x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

[somethingsomethingwords]

Hello everybody. Long time no see, but it's been one of those months, you know. This was something I've been thinking about for a while, but I only finished it because of @nico-di-genova. So this is for you honey.

As always thanks to everyone for reading. Enjoy 💜

Everything was going great. Fernando was at a party, where people were drinking and having fun. All around him, the younger drivers were finally decompressing, enjoying the alcohol, the food and the company.

At the center of the sea of people, there was the brightest star of the night.

Lance had finally won a race, and he was celebrating as loudly as he could, sandwiched between Esteban and Mick.

He envied the joy written all over their faces, and how close they were.

He loved the sport, even after his fake retirement, even after all those years, but there was something about maiden wins that still no other win could recreate.

Jóder, soy tan viejo was thinking Nando, when someone tapped his shoulder.

"I think it's late enough, no?" asked Pierre, and it really was getting late, and the trio seemed to be losing energy.

"Yeah, sounds about right. How about we split them? I'm taking Mick, and you take your teammates?" said Lewis, already stepping towards the boys.

Pierre started following him, muttering some curses that would have made blush a sailor. Nando snorted at the scene, and looked as the Brit took the German, while the French men started bickering.

The Canadian was looking around, confused after losing his partners in crime, but then he turned towards Fernando and smiled, slowly making his way towards the Spanish.

"Hola Lancito. Want to go?" asked Nando, seeing the younger man swinging slightly on his feet.

"I lost Estie and Mickie. Où sont-ils?"

Half drunk out of his mind, and he was still worried about his friends. Lance's loyalty really knew no bounds.

"They're ok, with Lewis and Pierre. I will take you home." and with that, he placed his hand on the younger's lower back.

The reaction was immediate. Lance's whole body shivered and pressed against his side, lowering his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Too loud. Je veux du silence"

"Oui mon amour. Let's go somewhere quiet" his French was heavily accented, but Lance seemed satisfied enough.

Nando guided the other man to his car, and drove them to their shared hotel, while Lance napped with his face against the window and his neck in a weird position.

When they arrived, Fernando struggled a little to wake the other enough to put him vertically in the elevator and walk to his room. At the door, Lance refused to lean against the doorframe, and settled only when he was hugging Fernando. "Warm" was the only word he said.

"Lance, I need the key"  Fernando spoke softly.

"Poche" just answered the taller man, with no visible intention to loosen the embrace.

Fernando tried to be respectful, and to not feel the solid curve pressed against his hand. He soon found the key in his back pocket, and opened the door.

Once they were both in, he quickly realised that Lance would not move further, so he just put him on the bed, and went to take a glass and fill it with water.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Lance half naked.

"Where are your pants?" he asked, voice an octave too high, almost dropping the glass, before setting it on a nightstand.

"Lost them. Too hot" he shrugged.

Then, even more bafflingly, he started giggling.

"What is now?" he asked, fondly looking as Lance tried to take off his shirt without opening a single button. He succeeded, but his hair was now a fluffy mess.

"You remind me of Nano"

The use of his nickname surprised Fernando. The younger man refused using it, always sticking with his full name. Then the absurdity of it all hit him, and he started giggling as well.

"Ah, sì? How so?"

He was getting curious, sue him.

"It's your voice. It's soft and warm. Would listen for hours"

Fernando wasn't expecting this answer, but it melted his heart anyway.

"Mhhh. Then want a bedtime story?"

Any more time spent with Lance was a gift and a surprise wrapped in wonder. He was not going to deny himself this experience, even only for blackmail reasons. Jokingly, he was done with mind games and tricks. He would never do them again, especially not against Lance.

"Nah. A secret"

"A secret, mh? Let's trade. You tell me, I tell you" if Fernando was going to indulge him, at least it was going to be funny.

"Ça va...Ah, oui, daccord, j'en ai un. I like him so much" and then started giggling again.

Fernando felt like all of his body had gone stone cold, and couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't believe what the other told him. But before he could say anything, Lance nestled in the sheets, and softly said while closing his eyes:

"I like him soooooo much, even if he doesn't feel the same. It's ok, don't think I'd deserve him. What we have, it's special. It is enough"

And with this, he was done for the day.

And he wasn't the only one. Fernando felt like he was going to explode, too many thoughts in his head and words on his tongue, with no one to talk to. He could feel his hair turning gray.

But a single look to that peaceful face, and his heart stopped beating erratically. Everything was going to be alright. They could face this together.

This and more, hopefully.

They were going to solve this tangled mess, but first they both needed to rest.

So he left a note for Lance, simply writing "Call me in the morning. -FA" on a piece of paper and leaving it on top of Lance's phone, where he was sure the other man would see it, and then he left the room, dreaming of his own bed and a restful night of sleep.

---

He was never going to win another GP ever again, if the results were the pounding headache and the rancid taste in his mouth.

He slowly opened his eyes, careful of the half opened blinds, and looked around.

Thanks to some sort of divine intervention, he had made it to the hotel safe and sound.

He got up and went to the bathroom, peeing, washing his face and brushing his teeth.

When he came back to the bedroom, he started looking for his phone. He almost missed it, but then noticed it was just half covered by a yellow post-it. It simply said "Call me in the morning. -FA".

Ok, so he probably would have to thank Fernando for making it to his bed unscathed. He tried to think about the night before, especially trying to remember his interaction with the Spanish driver.

At first, he couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary, then it hit him.

An echo of his own giggle, soft brown eyes, the whisper of a "like him so much".

Oh, no.

Oh no.

He had done it. He confessed, and now Fernando was going to be overly amused about it. Or overly nice, and Lance didn't know what was worse.

Rejection was always a bitch, but basically having to live with your unrequited crush for 24 week-ends? That was going to be a nightmare to go through for all parts involved.

Or maybe just for Lance, with his stupid feelings and his too-hopeful heart.

Ugh, Lance just didn't know what to do.

On one hand, he wanted to call Fernando and be done with all of this. On the other, he wanted to pretend nothing happened, and everything was fine and normal and good.

He sighed, because deep down he knew he was going to have to talk with Fernando, if he liked it or not.

Ok, let's analyze. He knows I like him, and still wants to talk to me. So, he is going to reject me kindly, at least. Ok, we can totally take it like champs. Basic rule still applied: no tears in front of him. It should be quick and painless. Ok, we can do this.

So he took his time in the shower, and ordered a healthy if slightly generous breakfast.

When he was done, he brushed his teeth, wore his comfort hoodie and left his room in a controlled chaos.

One mess at a time: first his love life, then his room.

He knew that Fernando's room was the one across from his, so he didn't even bother calling. He simply knocked.

When the door opened, Lance was sure he had hit his head badly the night before. Maybe the possible concussion and heavy hepatic failure led him to an early grave.

But if death meant he could get to see a still semi-wet Nando, covered just by a tiny towel low on his hips, well, he lived a rich and full life, if a little short.

He could feel himself staring, but also couldn't take his eyes off the view.

He just waited for the self-combustion to take him.

Then he heard a light chuckle, and a hand gently gripped his sleeve, pulling him inside.

When the subject of his awe turned his back on him, walking to the adjacent kitchenette, his brain seemed to be back online.

He shook his head and closed the door behind himself like a particularly stupid rabbit that voluntarily enters the den of a particularly fascinating fox.

Fernando must have known how nervous he was feeling, because he gave him a glass of water and led him to the couch.

"Wait here, I'll be right back" said the Spanish man, leaving Lance alone, stunned and with the glass still in his hand.

You're being ridiculous, grow a pair and just talk like the adult you supposedly are, a voice in his head that sounded like his sister's gently scolded him.

He drank the water while waiting, and felt slightly better.

When Fernando re-entered the room, calm and collected and clothed, Lance waited until he was seated before looking him in the eyes and starting speaking.

"Thank you for last night. For bringing me here safely, I mean"

Not the smoother transition ever, but Fernando had to be used to how stilted he sounded, and would appreciate it anyway.

"No need to. We are friends, no?" he asked with something in his eyes that Lance couldn't describe, but that made him want to talk more.

"About that... I also wanted to say sorry if I said something weird yesterday"

See Chloe? He was actually talking about things that embarrassed him instead of forever avoiding them. Well, not really being super specific, but small progress was still progress.

"Hmm... And what are you referring to?"

The bastard was actually going to make him say the words. Well, in for a penny...

"That I like you"

Lance could feel his cheeks heating up and could no longer stand Fernando's gaze, so he moved his eyes until he was watching a particularly boring patch of carpet.

"Lance, look at me"

It only took those four words, spoken in a tone so gentle and warm to bring Lance's eyes back to Fernando's.

"Why are you apologizing? Did you lie?" he asked softly.

"No" he half shouted, and then flinched because of the reaction. "No, I do like you" he said, exhaling.

"Then what are you apologizing for?"

Fernando could be soft when he wanted, but that didn't stop him from being stubborn.

"I didn't want to offend you" and also didn't want you to really know, because it's embarrassing and you deserve better and I can't be normal about this nor you.

He didn't say the words, but Fernando must have been able to hear them anyway, because he responded firmly.

"You didn't"

That lifted a huge weight from Lance's shoulders. Maybe this partnership could still be saved.

"Ok. Good, I'm glad" he was being awkward and subtly twisting his fingers. But nothing escaped Fernando's attention.

Seeing how the younger man was spiralling in his own thoughts, he didn't hesitate, reaching out to him and taking a hold of his hands.

"There is no need to be nervous. Just tell me again, tell me properly"

Lance could see in his eyes the want and the patience and something else.

They were in this together, he suddenly realised.

You are not alone anymore, said his mental Chloe.

He inhaled as much air as he could, held it and then exhaled. He found the strength he needed in a pair of brown eyes that were already looking in his own.

"I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I like you. I like how you drive, how you give feedback on the car and how you are always, no matter what, the best. But that's just racing stuff. I like how you compliment me, how you never made me feel less than, or just a spoiled kid, how you make me feel. But those are selfish reasons. I like how kind you are with kids, how ready you are to help any of the other drivers. But most importantly, I like you, Fernando Alonso, two times world champion, menace on and off track, mentor and teammate and friend and so much more. I like you, Nando"

He barely finished talking that there was a pair of lips on his own, soft and warm and gentle.

He realised he closed his eyes only when he opened them, and in front was Fernando, bright and shining and perfect in every way that mattered. To Lance, at least.

"You made me wait a long time, no? Let's not waste anymore" he said before diving in a second kiss that was hot and passionate and demanding.

Fernando broke the kiss and stood up, starting to walk, and Lance could only follow the man leading him towards his bed, and towards a life together.

#strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #some love for lance #because he deserves it #insecure lance is insecure but nando gets him so...

[wildemaven]

night school teacher! javier peña x f!reader | q & a

@holacia3 had left some questions about Retired Night School Teacher Javier Peña, so I thought I’d make a separate post to answer them. Thanks so much for sending these!!

What made Javi fill in the vacant teacher role? Did he just move here? Simply transferring from another local school/ uni?

In my head he's retired from the DEA and his dad is encouraging him to do something else besides helping him on the ranch, something that he would find more fulfilling.

Chucho tells him about the community college looking for a replacement teacher for their night school program so he applies. I hadn't really thought about what he would be teaching at this point though.

Are you two having these late night talks at the school or going somewhere else before/after the building has to close?

In the beginning, it's at the school before class. As they get to kow each other more, it's after class. Javi gathering his things promptly, then joining her while she finishes prep work and packing her own things up. I picture there are some evenings where they get to talking and lose track of time, Javier being a gentleman walks her to her car to make sure she gets there safe, waiting for her to leave before even heading to his truck.

Eventually Javi would ask her to dinner. It probably nothing romantic at this point, both of them just enjoying each other's company. Maybe she then invites him to something one weekend, a concert in the park, he doesn't hesitate accepting the invite. Maybe that evening he kisses her for the first time, and it becomes apparent that there's something more blooming between them.

Has this Javi always been a teacher? Or a second career after his time at the DEA ended?

No, definitely a secondary career after the DEA

Do the other teachers/administrators know how handsome he is? Do the students make any comments to him or you?

I'm sure other teachers do know how handsome he is. I don't think anyone makes comments in the beginning, both of them keep it relatively quiet and to themselves.

What's his day life like? What's he up to outside of teaching hours?

He probably still helping his dad as much as possible, even though Chucho continues to tell him he doesn't need it.

When does he start leaving notes? On your desk? Is this a no-texting kind of relationship/ situation?

Maybe it's after the concert. The next time they're at school, she finds the concert ticket on her desk with a not about how he enjoyed himself on the back. She keeps it in a special place in her book bag.

How long does it take for you two to get breathless???

I feel like it isn't a rushed thing. I don't really have a back story for them as of now, but neither of them begin talking to each other with the intention of just right out sleeping with each other. It's kind of a slow burn and happens organically over time when they develop feelings for one another.

He's a lady's man in Narcos - is he already involved with someone else when you two first meet?

No, he isn't involved with anyone. He's very much single and has been for a period of time.

How is reader's love life before Javi shows up across the hall?

She's had prior relationships, few serious ones throughout her dating life. Maybe even an engagement or previously married. I think when they both meet, she herself is single two. Which probably helps the connection grow stronger between them as time goes on.

Thanks again for these wonderful questions!!! Really made me start to plot and think about their story a little more. 💕

#javier peña #javier peña imagine #retired!javier peña #night school teacher!javier peña #asks answered #love all of these so much!! #pedro pascal #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader