#but I figured that would be better left in nicks hands
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ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛
pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader
wc: 1.7k
tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death
synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.
A gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.
You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.
Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution.
You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.
But the price to pay had been steep.
The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark.
The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve ripped from your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.
“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and...alone.”
A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.
Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.
“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”
He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.”
The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger.
You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.
“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”
Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.
“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?”
“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”
Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.
He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time.
“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Hellfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.”
The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling the wooden death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it had been welded to the frame.
Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with.
You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor.
The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales, and gashes rippled in the firelight. Revealing wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over. That body of night perfectly reflected it's master’s outward appearance.
And as you drowned in those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken, unmendable soul.
“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and collapsing wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”
You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.
“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”
In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. All that he was—what he’d inevitably become—held no promise of a life worth degrading yourself for. Nothing about you would be spared. And it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging for him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he’d carefully crafted for years and years.
Just for you, only for you.
Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would.
“Good choice.”
You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes.
Then, nothing.
#hiccup#hiccup x reader#hiccup imagines#hiccup haddock#httyd#httyd fanfiction#httyd x reader#httyd imagines#how to train your dragon#evil!hiccup#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere male#reader insert#x reader#fem reader
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Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo
Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you
Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.
A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY
PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.
Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL
Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick
Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??
Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔
Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?
“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic
“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.
“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.
“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.
“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.
“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off
“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air
“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.
“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.
“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.
A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.
Matty B Rapz 💍
you’re in big trouble for getting us caught
i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night
This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.
After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.
“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.
“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.
A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.
“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.
Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.
I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.
“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.
‘M’
His initial was spelled out on my neck.
“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.
“Yes, Matt” I whisper out
“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.
He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.
Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.
His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.
“Matt, please” I plead.
“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.
“I need your mouth, please” i whine.
He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.
“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.
His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.
“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.
“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.
His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.
“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.
“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.
“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.
“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.
His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.
“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.
“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.
The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.
“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.
I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.
I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.
“Spit” he says harshly.
I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.
Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.
“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.
“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.
“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.
“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.
“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.
“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.
“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.
“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.
“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.
My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.
“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.
“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.
He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.
“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.
He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.
“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.
“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.
“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!
Xoxo
Gabs 💋
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo
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hey, let’s not be alone tonight
matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request
warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol
matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.
“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.
his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.
“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.
“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .
matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.
you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.
“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.
matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.
“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.
“absolutely” you replied.
“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.
“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.
“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”
”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.
“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.
“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.
matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.
matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.
“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”
“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”
you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.
this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.
“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”
you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.
“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”
“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”
“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.
“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.
“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.
“how long have we been together?” you asked.
he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”
“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.
“of course. i love being with you”
you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.
“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.
you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.
“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.
“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.
“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”
“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.
“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”
“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.
“on three” you reply.
three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”
the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.
“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”
“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.
matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.
“any last words for the viewers?”
“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”
you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.
“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”
he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.
“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.
you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.
“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.
“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.
“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.
you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.
comments:
i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother
the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me
i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo
nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.
i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now
crying at how adorable they are
an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍
#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#matt x reader#sturniolo fanfic
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𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧
pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader
word count: 750+
summary: you have your period and chris tries to help you
warnings/notes: swearing, established relationship, periods, sorry it’s so short but that’s the only thing that i could come up with that i didn’t find cringey at that moment
A lot of the time, you hated being a women. Constantly judged on how you dress and act, creepy men, unrealistic body standards, and more. But this time? It was periods. That time every month where your body lets you know you’re not pregnant but simultaneously punishes you for not being pregnant. Every woman hates it, every little girl wants it.
Usually spending time with your boyfriend and your best friends would help a little bit, just to make you feel less of a sack of uncontrollable emotions and pain, but that wasn’t the case this time. This time, everything was bothering you. You had left the triplets to take a nap in Chris’s room as to try and stop yourself from getting mad at them and breaking down for no reason, but you’re still bothered in here. The ticking of the clock, the air from the vent, every little noise was bugging you. You groaned and grabbed the pillow besides you, throwing it over your head.
Because of the object blocking your ears, you don’t notice the footsteps leading up the the bedroom door. “Babe?” Chris called out as he opened the door, “you okay?” You hummed and stayed where you were, too lazy and tired with everything to reply. “Y/n?” “. . . I think I’m dying.” You finally spoke, pain evident in your voice. “I need to be put down.” Chris quietly laughed at that. “You don’t need to be put down.”
“I may not need to, but I want to.” Chris grabbed your hand as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong? Is your period?” You never felt embarrassed when talking about your period with him - you shouldn’t. You hated when some of your friends mentioned that their boyfriends would get grossed out when they talked about it. It’s a natural thing and it’s needed for them to live. You nodded, taking the pillow off you head and turning to face him. “I’m just so sick of it.”
“I know you are. And I would say I know it hurts but I don’t really know . . . At least not from experience.” You felt his hand brush up and down your back as you laid on your stomach. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked you, moving your hair tbh at fallen in your face. “My heating pad in the basket? Can you heat it up?” You groaned as a significantly sharp pain hit you, curling up. “Of course. Anything else?” Chris nodded. “Get rid of my uterus for me?” You looked up at him with a pleading smile. “Ask me later.”
You watched Chris as he moved to grab your heating pad and then open the door, slightly closing it but not fully as he left. While he was out, you figured you should change your pad. You did that, and stole a pair of loose boxers to put over top instead of the sweatpants you had on earlier. You were sitting up in his bed when he got back. “Are you wearing my boxers?” He asked you, placing the bag in front of you. “Yes. My sweatpants were bugging me and I was going to cry.” You grabbed your heating pad and leaned against his headboard, putting on your stomach and opening your legs. “Come here,” you patted the space between them, “I want to watch a movie.”
Chis knew better than to fight you, having dealt with you on your period many times before. It was you, but not dealing with any shit, and he didn’t want to make you cry. He took his shoes off and climbed on the bed and lied in between your legs. Before he put his head down, you put a pillow over your heating pad as to not burn him. “That’s really nice.” He commented as he lied down. “I know. That’s why I have it. Now, what do you want to watch?”
You ended up putting in a Disney movie, any other movie would probably get you upset in some way, so you both cuddled up and pressed play. When Nick knocked on Chris’s door later in the night and got no answer, he opened the door to find you two asleep with Chris in your lap. He took a quick picture and left you two alone, closing the door.
“Matt, look at this.” Nick called out to his brother that was on the couch. “What?” He was shown the picture and a smile formed. “Those two are so in love, it’s sickening.” He shook his head. “I know.”
#emma writes#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#x fem!reader#x reader#imagine
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The Scars On His Back
Just going to slowly reupload my fics...two at a time...
Summary: Astarion has a nightmare and goes out to the forest for a breather when he runs into you.
He’s back there again, with the feeling of a knife tearing into his back, carving up his flesh. Blood runs down his body, creating rivers of crimson on his pale skin and drips onto the floor, pooling between his feet. He can feel the stickiness of the liquid penetrating the gaps between his toes, the feeling sending shivers up his spine. His lifeblood drains with each moment, the pain overwhelms what is left of his soul and tears his body apart, sending screams ripping from his throat until his voice is hoarse but it never stops. The knife digs in again and again, the pain harshly dragging him back into reality each time he drifts off too far into the black void.
And then he wakes up with a start to the mess that is his tent, chest heaving out of habit and a sting in his eyes. His hands tremble as they reach up to wipe his weakness away, nearly causing him to nick himself. He presses his hands against his face, shakily drawing deep breaths.
He’s far far away from there now. He’s safe from him , with the tadpole in his head. He won’t have to bow and scrape to him as long as the tadpole remains. As long as you shelter him.
Hastily throwing on a tunic to cover up the scars, he heads outside his tent for some fresh air, to be away from the stuffiness that his tent brings tonight. The night air is cooling, a gentle breeze whistling through the still camp. Moonlight spills through the tree canopy, shining beams of silvery light upon the various tents pitched around the once burning campfire.
Quiet trills of nighttime creatures fill the silence, the smell of your blood wafting from…hold on. The smell of your blood? Ruby eyes widen and his feet move in the direction his nose is picking the scent up from before his mind can register anything. You are injured , his half-awake mind processes, a small pool of panic bubbling within his chest as he quickens his pace. How bad are your wounds? Have you been attacked? Will he make it in time?
He bursts through the trees, gaze frantically searching for any signs of an attack but all he sees was you. There is no sign or scent of enemies, only your lonesome figure sitting sheepishly on a rock, crimson liquid seeping through your fingers.
“Hi Astarion,” you smile, waving awkwardly.
“Y/N!” He hurries over to your side. “You’re bleeding.”
“So it seems,” you chuckle. “A small accident, really. I merely slipped on some wet grass and cut myself on the sharp edges of the stones.”
“You really are the clumsiest person I know, darling,” he shakes his head with a sigh, taking out some bandages and ointment. “Let’s treat this wound of yours before it gets infected. Wouldn’t want a small accident to turn into a big mess now, would we?”
You nod, biting your tongue before words that will ruin the mood slip past your lips. It’s better to keep to yourself how prepared he was to treat your injuries, and especially the fact that you could tell he was worried about you. Then an idea hits you.
“Since I’m already bleeding, do you want to feed on me?” The question sends his head shooting upwards, a quizzical look on his face.
“Feed…on you?”
“Yeah, like drink my blood since it’s leaking out of my body anyways, would be a shame if so much of it went to waste,” you can’t help but grin, “I can see your fangs peeking out, you know. Go ahead and drink, I don’t mind.”
He opens his mouth, moving it closer to your wound. The sweet scent of your blood hits his nostrils hard and they flare in response, hunger gnawing in his chest. You had offered your blood to him, what did you want in return? His body? His services?
Ruby red eyes search your face, waiting for you to lay down your conditions but you simply press your bleeding arm to his lips with a small smile, dabbing a sliver of blood on his lips.
“I mean it, Astarion. And no, I don’t want anything in return. I promise.”
A small puff of breath leaves his lips at your words and his tongue darts out, gently licking a stripe up your arm. When you don’t pull away, he gets a little bolder, sucking blood from the open wound. You hiss softly when his fangs dig in, drawing more blood from your body but keep your arm steady. He hungrily drinks it all in, the sweet flavour bursting in his mouth.
You don’t know what compels you to do it, but your other hand moves towards his hair, gently running your fingers through his silver curls, twirling the longer strands around your index finger. You carefully avoid touching his ears, knowing how sensitive they are and instead tangle your fingers in the hair at the top of his head.
He quietly purrs against your arm, pressing his tongue against the wound to staunch what bleeding he can before cleaning the wound thoroughly with a damp cloth, sending vibrations running up your arm. Gently dabbing the ointment on your arm, he wraps a bandage around the wound, pressing one last kiss to it before standing back up, offering a hand.
“Shall we return to camp before the others begin panicking? I doubt they can function without the both of us.” The smile on his face is filled with apprehension, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Astarion –”
“Don’t you worry, my sweet. I’ll repay this debt of yours as soon as possible,” he winks, pulling you to your feet. “You won’t regret it in the slightest.”
As he turns to leave, you shout.
“Astarion!”
He stops in his tracks, turning around. Muscles tensed, he tries to cover up the fear that is thrumming through his veins with a feigned smile, hoping it’d mellow out your anger. After all, you could neve resist his smile…right?
You see the way fear flashes in his eyes and immediately regret raising your voice, even if it was out of frustration directed at yourself. Taking a deep breath to clear away your anger, you hold out a hand in peace offering.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I’m not mad at you, I’m just…” Your voice trails off. How do you even justify what you just did? You know of the horrors Cazador inflicted on him, and yet you still lash out.
“It’s quite alright, Y/N,” he chuckles nervously.
You vigorously shake your head, “I really am sorry about it. There’s no way I can justify raising my voice at you, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was really frustrated at myself for not being able to convince you I didn’t want anything in return, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Astarion searches for any sign of a lie in your words but finds nothing. You really meant it. Every word you said. Your apology, your insistence on needing nothing from him after he had just fed on you, all of it was sincere and genuine. His undead heart skips a beat and suddenly the night doesn’t feel so cold anymore.
You care about him.
Before he knows it, his feet carry him over to you once more, his hand sliding into your outstretched one. The warmth blooms from your palm and winds around his cold one as your fingers intertwine with his.
“Y/N,” he breathes.
“Will you accept my apology?” You ask softly, eyes downcast.
“Of course, dearest. I always will,” he leans in, lips hovering over your forehead. Can he kiss you? Will he taint you if he does?
You tilt your head upwards, meeting his lips with yours and he immediately melts into the kiss. Unlike his previous kisses, this one is filled with care and love, not the usual lust and passion he’s used to receiving. Your arms wrap around him, hands resting on his back where scars tell of his past and he reflexively tenses. But this time, the hands on his back mean him no harm. They lie there to pull him closer into your warm embrace, to protect him from those who seek to harm him. So he lets them rest on his vulnerable back, soaking in the strange warmness that the simple action brings.
Astarion closes his eyes, putting his own arms around you. It’s weird, hugging someone for the first time. You don’t mind his cold dead fingers resting on your back and even press closer against him, enveloping him in your warmth.
When your lips part ways, he doesn’t say a word lest his voice wavers and betrays him. He lets you do the talking, relishing in the way you hold onto his hand tightly. Not a single move is made when you lead him into his tent, only letting go of his hand to help him tidy up his bedroll. You make sure he’s comfortable before turning to leave, pausing when he calls out your name in such a gentle manner.
“Stay…with me?” He begs. Your heart aches from his tone and once more you’re reminded of how much he hurts on the inside, so you backtrack and wrap your arms around him.
“Always.”
#astarion bg3#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#astarion angst
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First Crush 16 - Happy Halloween
I know this is late but technically it's still Halloween in Hawaii. I hope everyone has fun tonight! 🥰
"Honey, you're going to need to stay still."
Abby is squirmy in the make up chair, "But N'asha, I soooo 'cited!" Raising her little fists up in the air, ready for Halloween to begin.
Stepping back with her hands on her hip, "Well, if you stuck to being a Widow, we don't have to do this part."
Sitting still as can be, "No tank you. I needs to be Diwctor Fuwy! I stay still." Natasha continues to glue down the skull cap to Abby's head.
You enter the room with Abby's utility belt stocked with snacks and her trench coat. "Ok I think...." You stop in your tracks to stare at your daughter. The cap has made her completely bald looking. You're still undecided on how to feel about her costume of choice. Once Abby sets her mind to something it's hard to convince her otherwise. You had drawn in her goatee earlier, so she was just about done. She's still wearing the Widow suit underneath the trench.
"Mama, lookit! I no more hairs!" Abby cackles as Natasha sets her down.
She skips over to you, "Yes, I can see that." You strap on her utility belt. "While we're out, you only eat the snacks in here. You cannot touch the candy you collect, ok? I'll need to check it first."
"Okies, Mama!"
You help her on with her trenchcoat and runs over to the mirror & she squeals. " Do you like it?"
She jumps up and down, "I loves it so much!" She runs over to hug Natasha "Tank you!"
"Have fun tonight," she places the final touch of the eye patch on. "Listen to your Mama."
******
Chloe, Mia and their mothers were going to meet up at the Tower before hitting the nearby neighborhoods with the girls. You dressed yourself up as a hobbit. Brown capris & vest with a white poet shirt, a green hooded cape and a walking stick. It was the same costume as last year. You had always thought the stick could double as a weapon if need be. Bucky scoffed at your idea. He said him and Sam would be joining you for protection. He refused to have you and Abby out and about on a crazy night like Halloween unprotected.
You let Abby make her entrance and you watched the looks on Bucky and Sam's faces. Speechless. Horrified. Abby did her little sashay around the room, stopping in front of Bucky, jumping up and down with her hands clasped. "Do yous loves it?!" She plays with the trench to make the bottom swish.
Bucky's mouth is open & closing like a fish out of water. He turns to Sam, "Don't look at me. She asked you."
"Wow! Abigail. Wow!" Bucky's eyes meet yours and you give him a smirk.
"This whole...look? It's going to be embedded in my brain FOREVER," Sam nods at Abby.
Abby claps her hands, "Tank you!!"
The horror hasn't left Bucky's eyes as you laugh, "We better head downstairs."
While on the elevator ride down, both Bucky and Sam try touching Abby's bald skull cap without her knowing. "Stop," you hiss at them.
The elevators open to the lobby and when the little girls see each other they all squeal and scream, running to hug each other. They are so cute! Chloe is dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and Mia is Ren from Star Wars. The 3 girls gush over the sparkly shoes, Mia's mini light saber and of course Abby's bald head. Quick introductions are made amongst the adults. Bucky had met their husbands at the father/daughter dance at the daycare so they were a little familiar with each other. And Sam is so personable, he makes everyone feel at ease.
They were about to head out when the glass door slide open and Nick Fury and Maria Hill walk in. All 3 little girls gasp. Eyes wide and mouths shaped as little "o". Just like the time before, very intimidating and frightening, trench coat flowing behind him, cutting a striking figure across the lobby.
Abby runs across the lobby, followed by her 2 best friends. "Diwector Fuwy!!" She hugs his leg, "Happy Hanoween!"
He frowns down at her, 'Who the hell are you supposed to be?!"
Chloe is afraid of his tone and Mia hold her hand. The parents quickly follow.
Abby covers her mouth and giggles. "I'm you!!" She does a little turn making sure her trench swishes out. She slides her hand in his. "You wikes it?"
"Just say you like it," Bucky says with a little growl in his voice.
You try to distract & gather everyone to head out.
Abby looks at her friends, "Him's my fwend. He's so smart and braves. Him's the big boss to my Mama, Bucky, Captain America, Black Widow, Fawcon, Iron Man, Green Man, Lightning Man, Arrow Man....all dem Avengers. He protects the whole world and even space!" Fury doesn't look as angry & gives her little hand a squeeze. "And keeps us safe." Poking her eyepatch, "So no one steals our eyeballs, right?" His frown is back in full force and her drops her hand. He takes out his money clip and drops some money into the girls bags. "Get the hell out of my lobby. Go get some ice cream or something."
Again the girls gasp and a chorus of "Tank you, Diwector Fuwy! Happy Hanoween!" They all giggle and wave like the mini fan club that they are now.
"Ok, let's get started." You all start heading out and you turn to Bucky, "I thought Steve would join us tonight."
Abby pipes up, "Uncle Steve is on important dates. He cannot."
Bucky narrows his eyes at Abby, "How do you know he's on an important date?"
Abby shrugs before running off to join her friends, "Him tells me tings."
@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly
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casual - n.s.
Inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan. Noah is your friend but not your best friend if you know what I mean.
Warnings: angst, Noah is kind of an ass, sad thoughts, neither one of them know how to express themselves and deal with ~feelings~, curse words.
WC: 1.677
Part 2.
My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
You were used to the title of "friend". You were friends with the band. You met Nick first, some years ago and he introduced you to everyone else, and after that, where everyone was, you weren't far behind.
You graduated with a degree in photography a couple of years ago, and when the chance of touring with the band and learn from Bryan was presented to you, you couldn't refuse. Who would?
You don't exactly remember when things changed so drastically. Granted, you couldn't call Noah your best friend, but you talked to him everyday, you joked around together and even had a secret sign whenever you were at a party, to tell the other one of you was feeling a little overwhelmed, and was going to step out for a bit.
Looking back at it now, you realized these moments only held significance to you. You thought back to the night everything changed. How he was talking to you so smoothly, how he looked you in the eye and payed attention to every word you were saying, how his hands touched your thighs and finally, how he asked you if you wanted to get out of there and maybe go up to his room.
You also remembered how he asked you to leave not even 15 minutes after you were done, how he laid there scrolling on his phone as you gathered your clothes and put them back on, saying goodbye but not sticking around to hear his response. Pain clawed at your chest, but you pushed it down.
So when it happened again at a house party they were throwing, you left before he had to tell you. You told yourself you could do this, you liked him as a friend and not as something more. Besides, you were having fun and he was good, and by the way he was the one seeking you out everytime, you figured he felt the same.
You just didn't consider the fact that you were totally not the only one he was having sex with. Because right now, you were sat at a table at a bar the boys saw not too far away from the venue they were playing at, deciding that a night of drinking was in the cards to commemorate the sucess of the tour so far. And he was at the bar chatting up a pretty blonde. You wanted to know if he was telling her the same things he told you that first time.
"Looks like someone is getting lucky tonight, huh?" Nick sat down next to you, nodding towards Noah and the pretty blonde.
"Looks like it", you acted nonchalant, if any of the boys knew about this thing going on between the two of you, none of them mentioned anything. "He does this often?", you asked him, fishing for information. You had the priviledge of this being the first tour you were embarking on from beggining to end, so no one really thought anything more of your questions.
"Only when we have a hotel room. Can't really do much on a tour bus, you know?", you hummed in agreement, Nick said he was getting more drinks and excused himself.
Later that night, Noah left early (with the pretty blonde) and you went to bed alone.
I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose
So you decided to do what you did best: distance yourself from him. Every night, you always showed the boys the pictures you'd taken on your camera. Now you told them you wanted to wait until you edited them. You just didn't want anyone to notice you started taking less and less photos of Noah.
Nights out also became less frequent, but everyone just thought the exhaustion of being on tour was finally catching up to you. You didn't bother giving them any other explanation. You had to remind yourself that you were here working, this was your job and you were not gonna let him distract you from that.
You were currently working on some photographs you took on the previous nights, the chatter on the tour bus filling the space. You saw a can of White Claw appear in your field of vision. You didn't have to look up to see that Noah was handing it to you.
You took it from his hand and thanked him, popping it open.
"Is everything good?", he questioned you. He was used to you asking him to sit down, sometimes he would even observe you working because he found it just so relaxing. This time, you barely aknowledged him, just taking the beverage from his hand and going back to work.
"Yeah, just concentrated, you know?", you said, not diverting your eyes from your screen. He thought it was weird, but if you didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't gonna push you. He observed you for the rest of the night.
You honestly didn't know what you expected. For him to take your hands in his and tell you how concerned he was about your sudden distance? For him to notice you were hurting from the decision you made yourself? How much you didn't want to accept that you were like the other girls he banged on a weekly basis? Deep down you knew there was no way for him to know those things if you didn't communicate with him. But he acted like he already forgot what happened, you didn't want to be the one hung up on something that is never going to evolve.
You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
The guys played a festival today. The atmosphere was so different and exciting that it actually took your mind off of things. You met so many other professionals and exchanged so many experiences.
You were talking to Liam backstage as the boys were getting ready to go on stage. You noticed he used a camera different from yours and was excitedly asking him all kinds of information. You were interested in modifying your set up and try other things.
He showed you some pictures he took from earlier in the day and explained to you all the different settings and how he liked to adjust them. You were so distracted that you didn't notice Noah coming up behind you.
"We'll be up in 5 minutes", he told you, startling you quite a bit.
"Ok, I'll take my spot shortly", he nodded, but said nothing else, walking back to the band, the boys going over some last-minute details.
You found it weird, no one ever had to tell you what time you had to do your job, because you know. You decided to exhange numbers with Liam so you could continue this conversation later. You grabbed his phone and started to type your number.
"C'mon, Y/N", you heard Noah again, his behavior starting to piss you off. You signaled for him to wait.
"You're gonna be late, we're going on stage now", he wouldn't leave you alone. You handed Liam's phone back to him and bid him goodbye.
"What the hell are you on my ass about? I know what time I have to do my job, you don't have to remind me", you didn't wait for a response, grabbing your equipment and making your way to side stage.
The interaction put you in a sour mood for the rest of the day and everyone noticed. Your smiley and excited self was now gone, your face serious as you kept your conversation with other people short.
With the festival ending, you made your way to the tour bus, as you waited for the equipment to be loaded so everyone can hit the road again.
Noah was the first one to be back, as he took a seat in front of you. Both of you stayed silent until he decided to speak up.
"Seems like you and Liam were having a pretty good conversation", he noted, not looking at you, picking on a loose strand from his sweatpants.
"Yeah, he was pretty attentive", you responded, not knowing where he wanted to go with this conversation and why Liam was relevant.
"Oh, I bet he was", he let out a low chuckle.
"Yes, he was. Is there anything wrong about a professional conversation?", you crossed your arms in front of you, getting a little bit defensive.
"Professional conversation? Please, tell me you're not this dense", you were in disbelief, catching on to where this conversation was headed. "You honestly didn't notice that this guy is just trying to get in your pants?"
"Please, Noah. Don't compare every man to your shitty self", you scoffed, getting up to leave.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?", he got up after you and you could feel his presence on your back. You turned around to face him.
"Didn't you do just that to get in my pants not too long ago?", your eyes were fierce and held a fire to them.
"Oh, so that is what this is about?"
"I don't know, is it? You're the one who all of a sudden came here telling me who wants to get in my pants", you needed him to enlighten you, because you had sex twice and not even once he came looking for you to talk about it.
"I just thought you wouldn't be so easy", your opened your mouth in shock at his words. Surely this can't be the same person you knew.
"So now you're calling me a whore as well? You weren't complaining about how easy I was when I was sucking you dick"
"That is not what I said", he tried to defend himself.
"Well you might as well have", there was a pause in conversation, but you weren't planning on letting him say anything else. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you. Just because we fucked twice doesn't mean you have a say in who I can involve myself with. Besides, you're the one who takes girls to your room every week. So please, spare me hypocrisy"
You turned around and left for good now.
Part 2 maybe???
#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian imagine#noah sebastian davis#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fluff#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian angst#noah sebastian headcanons#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens smut#bad omens imagine#bad omens#bad omens fluff#bad omens headcanons#bad omens angst
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NO ESCAPE.
CW: depression, crying, mention of no eating, mentions of being trapped in ones mind (and cant find a way out), absolutely no y/n/character, depressed!chris
SUMMARY: where chris falls into a depressive episode and cant find a way out. matt cant stand watching his brother suffer in once what he experienced.
A/N: guys… no y/n for this one… + PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONGS WHILE READING ITS ACTUALLY THE ENTIRE REASON I WROTE TS AND IT GOES SO GOOD 🙏😭
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“its gonna be okay, chris.”
chris felt as if he'd never experience being happy again, the word an empty hole inside his gut that slowly tore open more each dreaded opening of his eyes every morning. the physical exhaustion he felt every morning, finding his ability of still being concious, filling inside his body as simple as water filling an empty jug. he didnt want to be empty and filled with exhaustion.
the fucking word that everyone explained to be the best thing on earth, heavens place on earth, was torn so easily from him, left his mind to its feeble attempts of retrieving the word and becoming it. why was he deprived of ‘happy’? what did he do to deserve this?
he didnt want this. he didnt want to dread having to get out of bed every morning, he didnt want to have to keep biting back the tears he felt pooling his waterline every morning. he didnt want to huff a large breath with even moving his position on his bed, seeking the comfort his mind couldnt withhold. even the thought of getting out of bed, and leaving to do an activity he used to enjoy put his mind on edge. why couldnt he get out of bed without putting up a fight?
he reminisced in the memories of the activities he used to do with a stupid grin on his face, a grin that pained his cheeks. not pained from the amount of crying he did. the pain in his gut being from laughing too hard was only a memory he could wish for but never recieve, why is it now hurting from the thought of getting out of bed to do something, anything. why was he like this?
his brothers begging, pleas and even their shed tears did little to convince him to satisfy the angry demanding growl of his stomach, desperate for food. but even the mere sight of food brought tears to his eyes and a gag at the back of his throat. he wanted to eat, but couldnt. he didnt want to be this way.
he didnt want to have to tell his brothers ‘no’ everytime they asked, even begged for him to take a small spoonful of food. always being given the same reply, the same reply that never failed to bring tears to their eyes and a strike of pain to their chest. a sickening pain they could never escape, maybe until chris voluntarily came out of his room with a hopeful radiance. maybe that would be the key to escape. he didnt want to have to seek an escape.
on the rare occasion chris came out of his room, nicks facial expression scrunched in sympathy, and a whirlwind of emotioms crushed over matt. a whirlwind of emotions chris wished they never even had to think of.
chris’ eyes were sunken in, lips chapped and as pale as his food deprived skin, his hair always a mess, an absolute nightmare to even try and comb through. his entire figure sickly skinny. but most importantly, matt—anyone—could tell how not okay he was, how utterly depressed he was. even with his pathetic attempt at convincing everyone that he is “okay” and not praying to god everynight that it gets better. that god will somehow take his hand and lead him out of the four white walls, dimmed light and screaming thoughts keeping him captive from his own escape.
but, even with his tries, hes well aware everyone knows hes not okay. especially matt and nick. they were the first to notice, and always will be.
they were the first to notice chris’ smiles slowly subtracting each day, his usually radiant, sun filled energy beginning to fade into nothingness. even the simple gleam in his eyes darkening—they noticed, of course they did. the writhing pain chris only experienced in the depths of his mind, nick and matt felt in their entire being. it was of to no one what chris experienced, except his brothers. when it all first began, nick and matt could see it in chris’ slowed energy.
one of the biggest signs he gave off, was the drastic change of sleeping in his room everynight. the cold pricking chris’ skin from not having another body beside him was the only thing he felt other than the tiredness coursing through him, and he wasnt up to giving it up yet. sleeping in his brothers rooms didnt give him the cold shivers he so utterly wanted, and again, he wasnt ready to leave the only thing he felt yet.
matts own sleep began taunting him, taunting him of the fact chris wasnt beside him, warming his shivering frame, the same cold that chris seemed desperate to experience, too attatched to let go.
matts attempts at keeping himself warm became desperate, two blankets turned into three, then four—then matt had enough.
he wanted his brother back. he wanted the familar laughter echoing across the house, he wanted his comforting embrace around his body and muffled giggles in the pocket of his shoulder. what he once told he didnt want, but now craved for, was going to be his to call comforting again.
matt stood out of bed, pushing off his nth blankets off his body and walking quick, watching his feet as they desperately walked the memorized path to chris’ room, the room he hadnt been so desperate to get to in weeks.
his footsteps stopped abruptly at the door, where matt second thought this entire thing. what if chris didnt want to be bothered? what if he walked in on the wrong time?
what if— he cut himself off with his hand going to twist the knob quickly, shoving the door open and quickly closing it behind himself.
his eyes frantic as they searched across the room for his chris. finding him in no other place but laying flat on his back, in starfish pose with no blankets, goosebumps covered all across his pale skin.
“chris?” matts shakey voice rang through the freezing air. his voice only a whisper in chris’ far long gone head. a cry for chris in chris’ tear filled ocean. a yearn in chris’ longing for his joyfilled self.
a sob broke throughout the tension filled air, matts chest moved rapidly as tears streamed down his face, his shoulders rising up and down, syncing with the rise of his chest.
“please chris,” he begged, crawling onto chris’ bed, wrapping himself around chris, shoving his face into the crook of his neck, his arms locked around his torso and his legs intertwined with chris’.
a shiver ran up chris’ spine at the sudden warmth, though, it silenced his overwhelming thoughts. the arms around his feeble body brought the comfort he prayed for everynight.
chris bit back his own sob, returning the same comfort matt brought him, curling into matt.
matts embrace was like the key chris had been seeking for ever since he’d been locked in the four white walls he’d called ‘his mind’. the mind that turned on him so suddenly. but thats okay, because matt was here. matt was here to bring him out of his mind, and bring him into the comforting warmth of being okay for a second.
“its gonna be okay, chris.”
1222 words
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let the light in.
matt sturniolo x fem reader.
an: i lowk hate this 🤓 also not proof read and the ending is ass.
warnings: none really just sad matt but it’s a happy ending 🤍
matt was prone to shutting you out due to his mental health. he had done it multiple times before, usually you gave him a few days to cool off and things went back to normal, but this time it was different. your boyfriend had blew up on you about a week ago and told you to leave him the fuck alone. so following normal procedure, you left his house and didn't bother him until 2 days later. under normal circumstances he would invite you over, talk it out with you and things would go back to normal but this time wasn't like that. you had reached out to him multiple times with no response, you even spoke to his brothers who told you they didn't know what to do. they advise you just let him figure it out, but you couldn't just sit around while matt was suffering, so you went over to his place, upon nicks request after agreeing with you.
"hey y/n" Chris said as he engulfed you in a hug after letting you in the house. you hugged him back and made your way upstairs to be greeted with nick.
"im so glad you're here, he hasn't came out of his room in like 3 days, he hasn't eaten or talked to either of us" he hugged you.
"Jesus, i mean i can try and get through to him but i don't know how much help ill be" you frowned.
"its worth a shot" Chris said before you sighed and made your way to matts bedroom door.
you took a deep breath and closed your eyes before knocking.
"hey matt, its me. can i come in?" no reply.
you looked over to Chris and nick, watching you from the living room and they motioned for you to walk in with their hands. you nodded before opening the door and going in.
his room was a mess, laundry all over the floor, his desk covered in paperwork that hadn't been done and his dresser looked like it had seen better days.
matt lay in bed, wrapped in his sheets with his back to you. you started walking round his bed towards him before he spoke, stopping you in your tracks.
"i don't want to hear it y/n. i don't want you here so leave" his voice sounded raspy and tired. you couldn't help but feel a sting from his words. usually matt never wanted to be away from you, hell, he would attach himself to you if he could.
"matt come on, lets just talk" you didn't move from your standing position at the end of his bed. matt let out a heavy sigh before aggressively throwing the covers off of himself and standing up and walking towards you.
"talk about what? how you fucking pity me huh? how im being selfish and im hurting people around me? no, fuck you and your fucking sympathy i don't want it" his voice was raised and he was slightly leaning down, yelling in your face. his eyes were drooped and the bags under them were deep and dark, his face looked sunken in and pale. you were taken back by his words. never once had your boyfriend spoken to you like this.
you opened your mouth to speak but before you could even get a word in, he barged past you, flinging his bedroom door open before making his way into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it shut. you took a moment to take a deep breath, looking down at your feet, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. after re-collecting yourself you made your way to his bathroom door trying to open it.
"matt open the door please" silence.
"matt open the fucking door" no reply.
"matt open the fucking door or i swear to god im going to walk out of this house and were over. you cannot keep doing this to me" nothing but the snap of the door unlocking was heard. you immediately walked in to find matt on the floor, slumped against the cabinet, elbows resting on his bent knees, with his head in his hands. you closed the door and sat down next to him on the floor.
"oh matt" you whispered as the tears started to roll down your face too. every ounce of anger that had occurred in you from him walking away, had dispersed instantly. you placed a small hand on the back of his head and gently pulled him to lean on you. he immediately wrapped his arms around your middle and put all of his weight on you, so terrified that you would disappear if he didn't hold you close enough.
"im sorry. i don't know what's wrong with me y/n, i cant make it stop" his voice was broken and slightly muffled.
"you don't need to be sorry matt because there's nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. you just have to talk to us" you pursed your lips together and looked up to the ceiling, while running your hand over his hair soothingly, desperately trying to stop the tears that were cascading down your cheeks.
"i cant because i-... i don't want to scare you away and i don't want to have to burden you with all this shit, you don't deserve that. this is my problem and i have to deal with it myself" he cried harder than before, tightening his grip around you. you immediately put your hands on both sides of his face, pulling his head up so he was eye level with you.
"don't ever say that, you're not going to scare me away. i love you and you're not a burden honey, i promise, you're my life line matt. you don't deserve this either okay? no one does, but its better to deal with it together than alone, this is what im here for, you're supposed to lean on me when you cant handle it. always okay?" at this point you were both full on sobbing. you couldn't understand how he could ever think that, he was your everything. every sun and moon you saw belonged to him. every single living breath you took was his. every single story you ever told had him disguised in it somehow. there was not a single day that passed that wasn't all about him.
"okay" his voice was quiet as he nodded. you followed his movements and nodded with him, searching his eyes for any sort of doubt in your words, you found nothing.
"i love you" he rested his forehead on yours as you spoke, breathing deeply, trying to silence his cries.
"i love you too, always".
taglist: @christinarowie332 @urmyslxt @azkabanstar @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @flowerxbunnie @sssturniolofart @freshlovehacker
#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#mango talks#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#s
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Decadent Desires Ch 2
Future Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual situations alluded to. Okay y'all were super interactive on the first chapter so I figured I'd give you an early chapter as a treat. Lol.
A full week had passed, another one full of overbearing work, handling the slight squabbling from the team while also dealing with constant badgering from the higher ups and Emily was over it. She scooped the final bite of linguine out of the pan, chewing it down while she moved the dish into the dishwasher thankful at least that she didn’t have to hand wash things tonight. It had been an annoying week and the bottle of wine on the counter had been calling her name since about two in the afternoon, the thought of an orgasm to relieve some stress on her mind from the moment she got home. However it wasn’t close enough to shower or bed time yet so the wine would have to do for now.
Emily refilled her glass, picked up her phone and opened the door to the patio, figuring at the very least she could enjoy the warm evening and actually get some fresh air after being cooped up in the office all week. Settling into one of the chairs she swiped open her phone and immediately had to resist the temptation to check her email, reminding herself she wouldn’t be so frustrated if she left work at work unless it was completely urgent. So she scrolled through a couple of social media apps, wasting time looking at pictures posted by friends, which in turn made her feel even more like she was missing out on something. She closed Instagram and her thumb hovered over the screen while she tried to figure out what to doom-scroll on next, finding herself staring at the little red apps Heather had installed. She took a breath, a large sip of wine and bit the bullet, opening the first one and she was pleasantly surprised she could scroll through a handful of profiles without setting one up for herself first.
‘Caitlin. 21.’
“Okay well you’re barely legal.” Emily muttered to herself, scrolling down further.
‘Steven. 32.’
A better age, but still a step in the wrong direction.
‘Kyla. 38.’
Better. But she could only see the main picture, age and location. Pulling her lip into her mouth she flicked around through a couple of pages until she found the how to tips and realized she would have to make a profile after all, even if it was just to see more information. She let out a huff, closing the app, hesitating only a minute before she opened up her text conversation with Heather.
‘Are you SURE this is a good idea?’
Her phone buzzed only a few seconds later.
‘The apps are fine. I’m assuming you haven’t even made a profile yet and it’s just pushing out what it thinks people want to see. You can curate your own experience once you put in your preferences.’
‘And if it still sucks?’
‘Oh come on, what’s the harm in one date? At the very least it’ll keep you entertained.’
‘Who said I’m not entertained?’
‘It’s Friday night and you’re texting me instead of being out somewhere.’
‘And you’re answering.’
‘I’m waiting for Rob to pull the car around; you just caught me at a convenient time.’ ‘Make a profile. There’s no harm in seeing what’s out there. You can blame me if it’s terrible.’
‘Add on a free lunch.’
‘Tell you what, this doesn’t work, I’ll bump it up to dinner and show you a couple of the discreet clubs around the city.’
‘Mark me down as intrigued. Deal.’
Emily let out a huff, swigging back a mouthful of wine before finally reopening the first app to start to put together her own profile. Maybe there really was a chance that this could work out.
*
Carly. 35.
Emily was almost late, one work call turning into another, turning into getting put on hold meant she didn’t have time to go change after work, arriving at Smoke and Mirrors still in her business casual. She was just in the nick of time and instantly found her date nestled into a cozy table on the patio overlooking the river, martini already in front of her.
It wasn’t necessarily that she slipped back into work mode, but her job did help her meet and interact with new people on a regular basis fairly easily. A warm smile and greeting, unsure how awkward something like a handshake would be considering the situation. A few rounds of drinks, a couple of split appetizers, and a decent enough time. While Carly could hold a perfectly good conversation and Emily could see them perhaps being friendly in the future, it wasn’t the right vibe. It certainly wasn’t helping that Emily could practically feel every set of eyes in the lounge on them throughout the night and that you didn’t have to be a profiler to put it together what kind of a situation was going on. It made Emily uncomfortable, like everyone was judging them, more specifically, her. If the two of them had been more friendly to each other right off the bat you might have been able to tell that it wasn’t a date, that they were colleagues or friends but that simply wasn’t the case. Her mind wandered to the thought that there was someone in the room that likely just assumed they were mother, daughter and that made her skin absolutely crawl and instantly ask if they could get the check. She at least felt a little bit better when Carly offered to split it, offering her a small smile that meant she was about on the same page.
*
Alice. 36.
This time Emily gave herself more than enough time to get home, have a glass of wine to help her relax and change into something more date appropriate. Alice had recommended Fiola and Emily had simply gone along with it, not realizing just how high end it actually was, her eyes widening at the fact that a single cocktail could set you back twenty-five to almost thirty dollars much less the food menu. At the very least, it seemed like the restaurant’s lounge was the place to be for date night on a Thursday, couples scattered throughout the place in various levels of dress. She noticed something on the menu advertising it being the place to be prior to theatre events and their server asked if they were attending a show tonight.
Emily had a little bit more faith in this one, feeling more comfortable considering the setting, actually relaxing as she laughed over her very expensive drink. It didn’t take long for the conversation to roll around to what one did when not out on the town and she let it slip that she worked for the government, a few more carefully worded questions and Alice had enough to figure out she was a fed, excusing herself to use the bathroom. When the room started to clear and Emily realized the other woman’s purse was gone from the back of her chair she let out a soft groan, realizing she was definitely stuck with the pricey cheque.
*
Lily 31.
Emily knew going in this one could be risky based off age alone. Lily’s profile seemed like she did this full time and she already wasn’t sure about things by the time she set foot into 1798. Her suspicions were confirmed when her phone went off with an urgent call she had to take, letting out a sigh as she returned to the table explaining that she had to leave for work and likely wouldn’t be back for a few days at least. In return Lily let out a huff and a whine like she was a toddler, crossing her arms over her chest and demanded that Emily pay for a three course dinner and send her roses each day she was going to be gone since she had wasted her time. Emily outwardly laughed, saying drinks were the only thing she’d even agreed to have, much less pay for and left as fast as she came in.
*
Kimberly. 39.
This one got postponed immediately as a case kept them out of town longer than anticipated. They were still only chatting back and fourth on the app and Emily was venting about being the one in charge and how her team were agents and you’d think they could handle certain things themselves but apparently not. She woke up the next morning to find a couple of messages that insinuated Kimberly might have been doing other things for money that weren’t exactly legal and thought it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with a cop. After Emily sent a reply agreeing, the match disappeared.
*
Emma. 34.
This one started off slow, a match, Emily shot off a message and waited a while to hear back. She was pleasantly surprised when her phone pinged with the reply she’d been hoping to get for a few days. They got along wonderfully, everything seemed to be falling right into place, their opinions, expectations, they shared a handful of the same favourite movies, foods, for once it seemed like things would be perfect. Emily opened the app when she got home from work that night to ask her out for drinks that weekend to find that she’d been completely ghosted, unmatched and no way to find Emma again.
*
Kori. 40.
The second match that had gone off without a hitch and a plan to meet at Blue Duck Tavern that coming Thursday night. Emily arrived a little bit early thanks to a complete lack of traffic and figured she would just grab a drink at the bar while waiting. You could only imagine her confusion when she was tapped on the shoulder and turned around to see an older than middle aged man with a timid smile introducing himself, apologizing that he didn’t look like his pictures.
That one earned an eye roll and a ‘yeah, right’ before Emily was heading for the door.
*
The week had finally come to a close and Emily had dismissed the BAU shortly after lunch, telling the team to get out of there while they still had the chance and everyone was quick to leave the building, herself included. Construction rerouted her normal commute home and when she ended up in the same neighbourhood as Heather’s office her mind wandered back to how unsuccessful her past two weeks had been and before she even really realized it, she was pulling into the parking lot.
“I’m being serious Heather, it’s fucking terrible.” She groaned, dropping down into a chair across from the other woman’s desk. “This is almost as bad as dating men was.”
“From what I heard some of them are men.” Heather replied with a tease and Emily shot her a glare.
“I just thought this would be easier.”
“Finding the right fit is the hard part, it’ll smooth over once you do.” Heather flipped the book in front of her closed, standing from her chair and crossing over to the liquor cart, filling up two glasses of scotch.
“I didn’t want to deal with the hard part though.” Emily continued to mope, thanking her for the glass.
“Drink. You’re too pent up.” She settled back at her desk, “you really do need to get laid.”
“Don’t you think I’m trying!?” She sucked back a mouthful of the liquor, stewing in her thoughts for a moment. “Please tell me you’re having more success in this than I am, how’s your bartender doing?”
“Are you kidding?” Heather laughed, “you saw her. She’s practically pathetic. She was pretty enough, but my god the level of insecurity? The constant whining and worrying? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good brat but there was no way she wouldn’t have been crying on my doorstep begging me to leave my husband in a week’s time.”
“Have you had that happen before?” Her eyes widened at the sheer thought of it as Heather nodded.
“Best piece of advice I can give you, don’t let them know where you live. Stick to hotels.”
“Noted.”
“What are you having the biggest trouble with? Maybe I can help.”
Emily sighed softly, swirling her cup as she stared into it, sorting through the string of failed dates, “honestly I don’t even know. Maybe I just need to play around with the age range…. Would probably help to bump it up a little it.”
“Anything under thirty-five does usually end up getting messy.”
“I want someone who has their life a little bit more put together; you know?”
“Mmhmm.” Heather replied over the rim of her drink, “you need to make sure that this isn’t their only source of income, that they have something else going on to fill their time and bank account up. Maybe someone who has an actual partner.”
“I don’t know about that.” Her nose crinkled, “would feel wrong. But someone who has a full time job and wouldn’t be completely dependant on me certainly would be nice. I don’t have the time or energy for that.”
“You need a gorgeous, ambitious girl who knows how to be discreet in public and likes get her brains fucked out in private.”
“Exactly.” She laughed, taking another sip of her drink as Heather tilted her phone screen towards her, hitting a couple of buttons before returning her attention to the other woman, “you know, if you ever think of changing career paths…”
“Become a matchmaker for sugar babies?” She chuckled, “there would likely be a market for that, maybe after retirement.”
Emily laughed, shaking her head as she watched the wheels start turning in the other woman’s head. She heard a brief knock on the door behind her before it swung open,
“I didn’t realize you needed this by the end of the day, sorry.” You swung through the office, coming to perch on the side of Heather’s desk as you handed her the file.
“It’s alright, it slipped my mind too.” Heather replied as she opened the file, skimming through it.
Her eyes flicked over to Emily briefly, watching the way her gaze drifted from the designer heels on your feet all the way to the necklace laying against your collarbone. You were dressed professionally yet incredibly stylish, dark pencil skirt, a peach sleeveless blouse tucked into it, blazer no doubt laying over the back of your desk chair. A delicate silver watch around one wrist, perfectly manicured nails and eyes that were suddenly set on her.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt. You’re FBI, right? Prentiss?” Your words jolted her out of her trance and she caught herself scrambling over the fact that you knew her name, wondering if she’d left her ID badge on after work.
“Well now I feel bad.” She laughed.
“Don’t.” Heather cut in, her eyes back on the file, “she just does checks on anyone that comes in here.”
“Ignore her.” You replied with a grin, sticking out your hand to introduce yourself, “y/n Walton.”
“And you’re what? Secret security?” Emily asked with a tease and you laughed as Heather tucked the file away into her desk.
“She’s the head of my PR team, does incredible work.”
“I should hope so, you practically groomed me into the assistant you needed.”
“I did not—” Heather scoffed, “you’re a horrible tease.”
“I do my job and then some, and I do it phenomenally.” You showboated for a second, grinning over at Emily before looking up at your boss, “which is why I’m double checking it’s still okay to duck out early tonight?”
“Why?” The other woman asked with a smirk, “you have a hot date or something?”
“Heather, please.” You barked out a laugh, “you’re a slave driver! You know I don’t have time to properly date with my schedule.”
“So why the need to play hooky?”
“A new Netflix special drops at six and I have a frozen pizza, a pint of ice cream and that bottle of Bordeaux screaming my name.” You slipped off the side of her desk, “besides, you still owe me the OT for putting together the gift baskets and flower arrangements for Senator Reeves. You do remember you have an assistant for that kind of shit, right?”
“Oh but sweetheart you’re so much better than them.”
“I know.” You grinned at her, “which is why I’m leaving early.”
She laughed, shaking her head, “keep your phone on.”
“Of course.” You turned, smiling across at Emily, “nice to meet you Agent Prentiss.”
Emily couldn’t help the way her eyes followed you out of the room before she finally turned back to Heather who was grinning like the cheshire cat over the rim of her drink.
“What?” She asked, feigning confusion and Heather chuckled.
“You liked what you saw.”
“Hard not to.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool like that over someone before.”
“I—I was not drooling!”
“Maybe not from your mouth.”
“Heather!” Emily felt her cheeks begin to burn, attempting to hide behind her glass as the brunette let out a dark laugh.
“Here, at least take her phone number.” Picking up a pen she scrawled the digits out onto a post it note, handing it to Emily.
“I don’t have time to date, you know this.”
“And you heard her.” She gestured toward the door, “she doesn’t either. You wanted someone with their head on straight who is comfortable occupying themselves when you’re working. I make her schedule; I guarantee she works as many hours as you do. Besides… she’s done this a couple of times before.”
That caught Emily’s attention, looking up from the yellow paper in her hand with her brow furrowed, “really?”
“Yes.”
“With women?”
“She needed some help through college, I was bored.” Heather shrugged, “worked out for both of us and now she’s on my actual payroll.”
“She’s been working for you that long?”
“Mmhm.” Heather nodded.
“So you really did groom her?” Emily teased and it was Heather’s turn to scoff, rolling her eyes.
“Just call her.” She half glared, “god knows she could use a night out, and one where she doesn’t have to rub elbows with politicians the entire time. She deserves a break and likely needs a good fuck, both of which I’m sure you can give to her.”
“We really don’t need to have that conversation.” She laughed, tucking the post it into her pocket, “but thank you. I will think about it.”
“Don’t think too long.” Heather smiled as Emily got up from her chair, scooping up her jacket from the back of it. “If you come back here in two weeks complaining about the shitty apps and you haven’t called her yet I’ll start feeding her lies about how much you suck.”
“Okay, okay.” She laughed, “I’ll call. And I’ll see you later.”
_________________
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#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds#decadent desires#criminal minds fanfic#emily prentiss fanfiction#heather dunbar
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Tomorrow. (An "Alone. Truly Alone." Drabble)
Wrote this because I was getting stumped on Chapter three. Have a little tiny Ghoap moment ;3
I love him so much look at him!! What a guy!! (Also being able to actually see him in motion has helped me so much trying to figure out how to write him)
Mwah I wanna kiss his face
CW: Mentions of blood, death and dying. Nothing too graphic but it's still very much there! It's angsty too
💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
Tomorrow.
Oh, how he loathed that one, single, simple wretched word uttered carelessly without as so much as a second thought by so many. How he hated tomorrow.
Tomorrow stood as an uncertain promise held aloft every evening as the sands of time trickled through their limitless hourglass, slowly emptying into the chalice that soon would turn as the earth once again shone a different face to the sun. Tomorrow wasn’t something anyone could truly count on when the tides could shift in an instance, changing everything you knew. Simon Riley knew that better than anyone.
Serving years slaving away in arid deserts and frozen tundras alike with nothing but the weighty gear on his back and a gun in his hand meant he knew better than any other that tomorrow was a measure of time, nothing more. No matter how many times tomorrow had been said, promised, spoken so truly imbued with intent already plotted on its horizon, it didn’t change fate. It didn’t change whether you were going to make it to then or not. The world didn’t care if you made it through or to tomorrow. It only made tomorrow happen.
How many tomorrows had passed since he had been trapped in this washed-out, colorless hell surrounded by walls damning him to eternal solitary confinement with no promise of escape was something he couldn’t answer. The sun had long since ceased warming him with its golden rays in the morning and the moon had made itself scarce, never showing when it hung in the twinkling night sky. A being damned to purgatory didn’t deserve such warmth or beauty. Every wall encasing him determined such a thing would be true as long as he lived in his unliving state. Cold and unfeeling, nothing he did could change the immovable fate that shackled him down and buried him alive in the cement cage.
That didn't stop him from etching the passage of everything he loosely guessed was a day into the walls. Keeping track of something, as minute as it may be, at least kept him saner than he would be with nothing else. Carving into the walls with the few tiny metallic medical tools that had been abandoned and left to rot, the same as him, stood as the only form of retribution against his prison that he could manage.
Each nick, dig, and mark struck against it stood in a silent testament to say that he lived despite death itself having clasped its frigid, clammy hands around his neck as it choked him out until his lifeforce faded. Every insignificantly significant tiny white line marring the concrete stood in testament that even if he was trapped, the bitter taste of defeat still remained foreign on his decaying tongues. His normal body may have long been forgotten and replaced with too many twisted limbs and cerberic heads, but he was still Simon; the very same Simon that would fight with all of his too many teeth and blackened nails until his true final breath.
Though his life had been forced from his mortal shell with the reaper's digging claws until it was pulled from his body, he still somehow lived. How fitting of an "end" for someone like Simon, someone who couldn't even catch a breath when the dark angel came calling his name, only to turn him back to the world as it took a part of him with it. True peace was never fitting for him, he supposed. When all of his life was spent dedicating to fighting, it's only expected he would go toe to toe with his own mortality too.
Yet this pathetic existence hardly classified as what he could call living. He breathed, yes, air filled his lungs but it served no function. Nor did the existence of his heart or any of his organs that were little more than placeholders these days. It was a blessing to be some form of alive and to still have his brain perfectly functioning, but being trapped in this shell stood as an eternal, tormenting curse. Punishment for escaping death one too many times, endlessly taunting it as he dodged all too many bullets, is often how it seemed.
Death would've been the preferable option than staying trapped in the decaying government facility alone and the body that held him prisoner to match.
How he wished he could be permanently buried in the dirt, his eyes closed in a true state of rest. The waking world was a poor imitation of what he hoped death's true embrace would feel like as it came calling his name once more and beckoned a single, crooked skeletal finger. Thin, yellowing sheets that covered the dusty hospital beds where he lay each night offered little comfort for the constant numbness surrounding him in a static void.
Every physical sensation that brushed against his poor-excuse for flesh drowned in the barrier of his unalive state before it could reach him. Heat, cold, pain, pleasure, hunger, thirst - none of those things mattered to a being who could no longer feel in such a corporeal sense.
The same couldn't be said for his feelings. Now that the pesky things such as normal human bodily needs abandoned his form, his heart and mind made up for their absence tenfold as they held him down and forced him to feel everything and anything in between in the murkiest depths of his soul. Like a twisting, red-hot blade they relentlessly engraved their grievances on chunks of his very essence, permanently scorching his soul as they scarred far deeper than any of the hundreds of weapons that had been turned against him ever could hope to.
Despite the stillness of his heart and the absence of what used to be a steady, rhythmic beat, his heart still burned as if it were thrown into the deepest depths of hell whenever he turned his gaze and locked eyes at the tiny picture on his nightstand of him and Soap together, blacked out in tactical gear. He should've thrown an arm around him and made their last picture together more memorable - but it was too late for that. Should've was already too late. He was too late.
The extra heads forced together by sinewy webbing never were much help when it came to focusing with his already clouded vision. Straining to look as he brought the picture closer to his faces, to truly see through all of his eyes, was minor inconvenience he could bare. For it meant that his eyes were graced with three sets, three times, the visage seared into his memory of the one who took on the world for him. The same one who fought for the world, his world, and so readily gave it up for him without a second of a hesitation. He deserved that at the very least - to be seen, recognized, admired. Johnny deserved that and the world itself.
Pouring pure alcohol into his veins and setting it alight would hurt less than the pang of primal agony that rippled through him, shredding his heart and spitting its venom into his soul, whenever he set the picture down and glanced at his left size where an arm - Johnny’s arm, lay fused to his own. Taught skin webbed between it and where his own original arm stood long before he became an abomination and a product of science going too far. The strong fingers that had cradled his hand so gently throughout some nights when the other thought he was asleep, the hand that strangled, shot, and killed for him - now usually clung to the tattoos that inked up his flesh as if afraid to let it go once more even in this harrowing state.
The single limb agonizingly sacrificed to him remained the only one didn’t have perfect control over. It never fully listened, much like the man it came from. No matter the orders he barked at the sergeant, he wasn't one to heed with his head alone. Sometimes that noble, brave heart of his that let him charge up the ranks so fast took the reigns before he could do anything about it.
Stand down, Johnny.
Get out of there, MacTavish.
Don't you dare, Johnny. It's not worth it. Not for me.
....
The longer he lived with the errant limb and dealt with the non-compliance, and the usual near constant grip on his forearm, in a twisted way, he didn’t want things to change. He didn't want it to listen. That wouldn't be Johnny's arm - that wouldn't be Johnny if it did. It wouldn't be the last solid reminder he had if it complied, even if it was connected to his consciousness now.
For now, it was something he could cling onto like a starving dog lapping up scraps of meat outside the back of a butcher shop. Deep down, he knew that he was feeding the delusions as he blindly clawed for anything he could cling onto as a reminder, but bringing himself to care enough to stop wasn't an option (as unhealthy as it might be). Living with the miniscule fantasy served as a balm to his gouged soul that bled out more and more as the seasons marched on and days tumbled forward into one another. It was enough for a man like him who would scavenge for anything his many hands could get ahold of, clinging to any threads as if they could carry him out of the abyss until they inevitably crumbled to dust under the crushing weight of him.
Some nights as he lay on the creaky hospital bed staring up at the same blank ceiling that matched the same gray that covered his senses in a blinding fog, he could almost pretend that Johnny was still here, still talking to him in the thick brogue that was so distinctly him, still smelling of the scotch he loved so much tinged with gunpowder from all the explosives he had set up.
If he closed all six of his milky eyes, the phantom sensation of Johnny's warm form beside him as he imagined him close once more nearly caused him to feel something along his sensationless form. Those deft fingers that worked along intricate wires of dangerous weapons never followed the same pattern twice as he traced his tattoos in the same routine he had many nights before as they lay near one another underneath a flimsy tarp deep in enemy territory, the uncertainty of their own mortal lives continuing for another sunrise strung along the stressful line of their work.
And sometimes if he truly shut off his brain, his mind could truly run wild as it conjured up the words he’d heard so many times before. The same point of contention uttered once more that Johnny always circled back to as he marveled the black lines marbling Simon's skin, “You really should let me color ‘em, LT.” He’d breathe, voice so quiet it could be lost on a breeze as he stared at them with the softest look he had seen on the sergeant’s face, a quiet contemplation written in the furrow of his brows.
If confronted, he knew it would be played off as a joke and nothing more. But the way the roughened pads of his fingers traced the whorls permanently etched into his skin spoke otherwise, echoing words and feelings that ran deep that neither dared to voice. Every moment he lay there alone in his new "life", regret sank its fangs into the vulnerable underbelly of his heart, the heavy feeling settling like molten lead in his stomach as he berated himself for not touching him back, even if it was a tentative hand smoothing a thumb over the back of his.
No matter how many nights and countless times Johnny fell into the routine of tracing his tattoos, Simon's dark gaze would fall right back over the other to trace the tired lines on the other's face and the stubble of his jaw with his eyes. His fingers always twitched restlessly as they lay folded on his chest, aching to feel something aside from the fabric underneath. Yet the ugly, grating voice of doubt pestered him until he hesitated, never letting him the courage to reach up and caress him, even for a second.
His turmoil was obvious to anyone who knew him like Johnny did. The tension in his body, the near constant movement of his fingers, the unblinking look in his eyes as he couldn't help but to stare. But Johnny was smart, significantly smarter than many gave him credit for. He knew better than to point it out with his voice alone but the small upward twitch of his lips spoke a thousand words as he shifted closer, closer.
“Add a little more color to your life. Things can’t always be black and white.” Johnny always insisted as he leaned further in, the weight of his body sinking in, nurturing the warmth blooming in his chest.
Breathing had never been harder as those blue eyes peered up at him through dark lashes. All air left his lungs in a flash, his heart halting as he stared into those eyes, helplessly held captive by those beautiful blues that would put the finest aquamarine gems to shame.
How he wished he listened.
What he wouldn't give to go back to that moment, if only for a fraction of a second, to get lost in those expressive pools of his newfound favorite color.
No amount of time nor disease would pry that memory from him as he lingered in the stagnant, abandoned base. The warmth he felt that night bloomed within his chest even now, even when hindered and reduced to nothing more than a faint fuzzy feeling tickling his chest.
Not even the fusion of the two heads on the side of his could even hope to gnaw it away with their own plaguing whispers and intrusive thoughts that bit through his skull as they tried to worm their way into his brain like the parasites that they were. But he wouldn’t let them. Nothing could.
No, nothing could make him forget Johnny. Not even the end of his world as he knew it. Death may have taken him temporarily into his clutches, dangling him between the precipice of life, but that wasn't enough. Because his world didn't end when he died, no. That was insignificant. His world ended not when he rasped his last breath, endless rivers of crimson spilling onto the operating table. It ended when he used the last of his energy to tilt his head to take one last look at Johnny, knowing that he would never see him again.
...
Endless amounts of tomorrows could add up in the gouges of more tally marks and scores into the wall, covering every nano angstrom of the base and he still would loathe them with all the contempt his heart could well up until it sat in a venomous soaked vat of his festering rage.
He hated tomorrows because each mark was another reminder of the tomorrow that wasn't to come, the tomorrow swiped from underneath his feet by fate's cruel hand, the tomorrow he promised, the tomorrow that would never be - the tomorrow with Johnny.
#cod#simon ghost riley#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#simon ghost#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost riley#call of duty#blackcell alone operator skin#alone operator#cw body horror#operator skin#call of duty halloween#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#alone operator skin#alonetrulyalone#drabble#ghoap#ghostsoap#soap mactavish#modern warfare#ghost x soap#soapghost#call of duty fanfic#cerberus ghost#alone ghost
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Seeing Ghosts
This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
---------------------------------------------------
"Bradley honey, I'm home!"
No answer.
I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.
"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.
"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.
"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.
Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.
Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.
I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.
"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.
"Roos, I have a- oh God!"
Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.
I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.
"Roos, honey, what happened?"
"He called me Nick again."
My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.
"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.
"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.
"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."
He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.
"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.
"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"
#miles teller#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw fic#top gun rooster#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw#top gun: maverick#rooster top gun#top gun#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw angst
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.
Previous chapter:
"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"
Chapter 3
Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks
Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.
Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.
Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"
Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.
Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."
She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly
"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."
Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."
Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.
"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.
Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."
Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."
Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.
"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."
He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."
Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"
Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."
Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."
She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.
"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."
Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.
"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."
He picked his head up and looked at Cookie
"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."
Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."
Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."
She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."
Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."
Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"
Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."
Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."
She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.
Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.
He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.
Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.
When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.
She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.
"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."
Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."
Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"
Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."
Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."
Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."
Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.
Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."
Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."
Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.
When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.
"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"
He looked to Sharon for an explanation.
Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"
"Of course agent Carter."
A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.
Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.
"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."
Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."
Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."
He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."
Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."
Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.
Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.
Chapter 4
The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#angst with a happy ending#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#no benefits
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Two idiots in love. (P13)
Joel Miller x anemic!reader
Summary: The trio finally finds the Fireflies. Well... the Fireflies find them.
Warnings: blood, death, cursing, guns, murder, talk of suicide. Joel being Joel and Ellie being Ellie.
Author's note: Sorry for the long pause! I wrote the final parts which will all be up tonight!
Masterlist
Part 1 and 14
............................................
She was beginning to come back to him.
Her skin was no longer that horrid pale, and she slowly regained the color under her eyes.
Her quick wit came back on occasion, but she still held that same look in her eye. That dullness that used to be sparkle.
Joel noticed how jumpy she continued to be.
But even he knew the road to recovery wouldn't be easy.
…
The three walked through another abandoned town, their eyes sweeping over each building carefully.
Ellie's eyebrows furrowed, "Was this a FEDRA thing?"
Joel shook his head, "No. Army." He continued to look around as he spoke. "They put these places up all around, beginning of the outbreak. Emergency medical camps… obviously they didn't last. They had me in one just like this."
"With Sarah?"
Joel shook his head quickly, "No, she was gone already."
"Oh." Ellie nodded, "So, what was wrong with you?"
"It was for this." He pointed at his ear.
Ellie smiled slightly as she looked over to Y/N, who held just the smallest fragment of a smile. "From Y/N almost shooting you? Figured that would've happened later."
Y/N got a strange look on her face. Her voice was small, but it was there. She pulled on his sleeve, "But… Joel?"
He turned to her, bending down slightly to hear her better, "What, sweetheart?"
"I… I thought I shot your left side?"
He paused with a sigh. "Yeah. You're right."
She reached up to his left ear, running a hand over the small nick in his ear from her bullet.
Ellie scoffed, "Who shot you then?"
He stiffened, "it was me."
Y/N pulled her hand away and Ellie's mouth opened in slight shock.
Joel sat down on a nearby rock and sighed as Ellie sat next to him, "There's no story. Sarah died, and I couldn't see the point anymore. Simple as that."
Y/N approached the two, standing in front of Joel.
He continued, "And I wasn't scared either. I was ready." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I couldn't have been more ready."
The other two said nothing, giving him time to think of what to say.
"When I…" he paused, "When I… went to pull the trigger, I flinched. Still don't know why."
He finally snapped out of his thoughts to the feeling of Y/N's fingers running through his hair sweetly.
"Anyway, the reason I'm telling you all this-"
Ellie interrupted, "-I know why you're telling me all this."
"Yes, I reckon you do."
The silence that fell between the three was in thought, slightly awkward, but relaxing none the less.
"So," Ellie chimed in, "Time heals all wounds, I guess."
Joel's voice faltered, "It wasn't time that did it."
The man and girl exchanged heartfelt glances to each other as they read the other's mind.
"Well, I'm glad that didn't work out." Ellie finally nodded.
"Well… we should probably get going…"
"Yeah…"
The three began to walk again.
Joel smiled, "You know what I'm in the mood for?"
"What?" Ellie wondered.
"Shitty puns."
As Ellie began to serenade them with puns from her joke book, Joel slowly grabbed Y/N's hand to pull her next to him. He studied her face carefully, going back and forth between studying her and giving Ellie shit on the really stupid jokes.
But that ended as quickly as it had started when a grenade was thrown at their feet.
Joel shoved the girls to the ground.
The ringing in their ears was unbearable as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
He looked up to see the figure of Ellie being dragged away. Her screams pulled him up further as he tried to reach for her.
He felt Y/N's hand on his arm, gripping his bicep with such force he thought it would bruise.
The butt of a gun hit the back of his head, the last thing he saw being Y/N's worried gaze.
…
Joel opened his eyes slowly as he tried to see what was around him.
"Welcome to the fireflies."
He pushed himself onto his back quickly, but the quick action made his head spin.
"Easy," Marlene chastised. "You got his pretty hard. Patrol didn't know who you were."
He took a deep breath before finally coming to his senses, "Where are they?"
"They're fine." She said, "Ellie's not hurt. Not even a scratch. She was mostly worried about you. Y/N is alright. Her hearing is a little messed up, but she's fine, too."
Joel sat up and rubbed his eyes, "Where are they?"
Marlene ignored his question again. "We lost half our crew crossing the country. I had five men whose only job was to protect me. I still almost got killed. So, how'd you do it?"
Joel shook his head, "It was them. Ellie… she fought like hell to get here."
Marlene scoffed, "she would've been dead on day one." When he said nothing, she continued, "You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you-"
"-Just take me to her."
Marlene sighed, "I can't. She's being prepped for surgery."
Joel looked confused, "What surgery?"
Marlene's face turned to stone, "Our doctor, he thinks that the Cordyceps in Ellie has grown with her since birth."
"So, why is she in surgery?"
"I produces a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps think that she's Cordyceps. It's why she's immune. He's gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messengers, and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it could be a cure, Joel."
He sits in thought for a while before sitting up more, "Cordyceps grows inside the brain…"
Marlene nodded, "It does."
Joel's voice became low, "Find someone else."
"There is no one else. We didn't tell her, we didn't cause her any fear, there won't be any pain…"
Joel shook his head frantically, "no, no, no, no. You take me to her." He stood up quickly with a shout, "You take me to her RIGHT NOW!"
The guard next to Marlene sent a punch right into Joel's gut, making him tumble to the floor with a grunt.
He slowly calmed down as he stared at the floor. His voice became quiet and pleading, "Please, you don't understand."
Marlene nodded, "I do. I was there when she was born, Joel. I promised her mother that I would save her child. I promised. So, I do understand. I'm sorry. I have no other choice."
Joel looked up with a furious look in his eye as his murderous look returned, "I do."
Marlene had the hint of a smile at his foolishness, "Walk him out to the highway, leave him there with his pack. He tries anything," she says to the guard, "shoot him."
The guard pulls Joel up as he continues to glare at Marlene. The guard pushes his towards the doorway, but Joel stops inches from Marlene, "Where is Y/N?"
Marlene shrugs, "Doesn't matter. I'll get her back to her family. Her son. She'll trust me, Joel. Can't say the same for you."
Joel's jaw clenches as he's pushed through every hallway, memorizing his steps carefully.
The stairway was dimly lit and dirty. Joel's mind was on overdrive in thought. The occasional shoves from the guards was starting to piss him off, and he would get his revenge.
He was determined to not let himself go down without a fight.
One guard pushes him, "The fuck you doing, stopping? I said keep walk—"
He was cut off by Joel turning around and elbowing him in the face, knocking the man to the ground. Joel grabbed his gun and shot the other guard easily.
He pointed his gun to the first guard, threatening him. "Where are they?"
The guard spit blood, "Fuck you."
"I don't have time for this."
And shot the man with no remorse.
.............................................................
Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje, @ashleyfilm, @darling-imobsessed @yomiyasxx @gigistorm @klwrites @harriedandharassed @mthealy @picketniffler @brinleighsstuff @daybleedsintonightfa11 @pedr0swh0r3 @treblebeth @missladym1981 @sarahhxx03 @asexyladie @swiggityswoody52
#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#joel tlou#joel miller#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou
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sunshine in my eyes
pairing: nicholas ruffilo x reader
tags/cw: domestic nicky, lots of fluff, very mild nsfw conversation, swimming
word count: 1k
tag list: @malice-ov-mercy @baddestomens @sitkowski @somebodyels3 @broken0mens @tearfallpixie @cookiesupplier @meekahy @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sammyjoeee @collective-heartbreak @agravemisstake @catharsis-in-darkness @to-be-written @collapsedglasshouses @itsafullmoon @lma1986
author’s note: after i posted my cute beachy Will blurb yesterday it got my wheels turning. i’ve been wanting to write something fluffy for my beloved @deathblacksmoke so i thought why not continue the summer trend? also, the cringe is intentional bc they’re cute and in love thx 🫶🏻
The lawn mower roars outside while you get a large glass of ice ready. You look outside the kitchen window and see Nick hard at work in the yard. Sighing, you grab the pitcher of lemonade from the counter and pour some in the glass. He had been working outside all day in the heat while all of your chores were inside and air conditioned. You figured the least you could do was bring him something cold to drink.
It wasn’t all for nothing, at least. This is the first summer in your new house. You had brazenly planned a get together with the guys and a few others later that evening. Both of you wanted to make sure the house looked perfect for your guests.
You fill your own glass and push your way onto the back porch, carefully sitting them on the table. Yelling at Nick, you realize it’s useless as the mower is far too loud. You wave your arms around and finally he looks up. He gives you a confused smile and turns off the machine.
“What is this?!” He yells, waving his arms around in a mocking manner. You roll your eyes at him as he laughs.
“Come get your lemonade, jerk!” You yell back playfully.
Nick accepts the drink with a smile and a kiss on your cheek. He doesn’t need to say much about the taste—the smacking of his lips and soft mmm’s as he drinks serve as a positive review. It’s impossible to say no to him when he asks for another glass… not that you would ever say no to him in the first place.
“How much more do you have left, Nicky?”
He sits his drink down, scanning the yard and considering your question. If you said you thought the boy you met seven years ago in a cramped venue in Richmond would be sitting on a porch with you now gauging how much yard work he had left, you would definitely be lying. Domestic bliss wasn’t even on your radar then, but now, you can’t imagine life without it.
“I’m almost done with the back. I just have to do some shaping around those trees over there,” He says, pointing. “I gotta make sure I didn’t miss anything in the front. I should be good after that.”
“God, you’re so hot when you talk about yard work.” You tease, fanning yourself. Nick whips his head to face you, smirking.
“You think so?”
“Mmhmm… It gets me all hot and bothered.” You lean across the table, touching his arm and winking.
“What are you going to do about it?” Nick responds teasingly.
“Probably go take a cold shower. All by myself.” You dramatically drag out the last few words and stand up to head for the patio door. The chair screeches behind you as Nick scrambles out of it to catch up to you. He grabs you by the arm and turns you around, pushing you against the door. All attempts at being serious are gone now as you can’t stop giggling at him.
Nick pins your arms above your head, planting quick pecks all over your face. His face is slimy and covered in sweat. You try to squirm away from him but he holds you tight—committed to making you miserable. He whispers filthy comments in your ears as his hands roam and you quickly realize you’re losing control of the situation. You manage to sneak out of his grasp, opening the door behind you and slamming it shut.
“Don’t you dare take a shower without me!” He groans.
“Sounds like you better hurry up and finish that yard work then.” You giggle.
The party goes off without a hitch. The guys took it upon themselves to handle the grill so you didn’t have to. You sat and listened to them argue over whose technique was best for what seemed like an eternity before you announced your famous jalapeño poppers were ready. They all swarmed the table, picking the plate clean and thanking you in their individual ways. Nick stayed at the grill mouthing a silent thank you. You winked at him and brought him a special plate you had saved just for him.
Later on, everyone decides to go swimming once their stomachs have settled. You lose count of how many times Noah throws you in the pool, but you get your revenge in a heated game of chicken and a devastating pool noodle attack. Looking around to share in your victory, you catch Nick laid out on a pool chair. His head is lulled against the top of the chair. He’s chuckling at all of the chaos—the arm lazily draped across his bare stomach jumping as his soft belly shakes. The happiness radiating from him makes your heart flutter.
He’s alone though, and you can’t have that.
Nick keeps his eyes on you as you step out of the water and pad over to him. You grab the towel placed over the other chair and dry off with it. When you’re done he coaxes you into his lap and you happily oblige, curling into his arms with your head on his chest.
“You okay, Nicky?”
All he does is hum in response and the vibration you feel through his chest is bliss. His entire body is warm from laying in the sun and he wraps the towel around you tighter, kissing the top of your head.
“Then what are you doing over here all by yourself?”
You feel him take a deep breath but it’s not from anxiety or discontent. His heart beats next to your ear calmly. You know there’s nothing to worry about.
“When we first met,” He starts, dragging his hand up and down your arm. “Did you ever think we’d have all of this?” He waves his arm and you look around. You see a backyard you’ve both worked so hard for full of friends that you would trust with your life. Memories of younger versions of the people you love so much creep into your mind. It’s all a little overwhelming how far you’ve all come.
Seven years. Seven summers. This one might just be your favorite of them all.
#nicholas ruffilo x reader#nicholas ruffilo fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fluff#nicholas ruffilo fic#nicholas ruffilo#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fluff#nicholas ruffilo blurb
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Kitsune HRT Part 3
Doors, are fucking,
TERRIFYING.
The office was unassuming by itself, yet the details spoke behind the facade's back, hinting to a truer nature. A nick upon the doorplate, how it could be pushed easily from any point on its towering height, or how dirt prints came in more varieties than just shoes. Snap! My gaze scampered upwards. The sun gazed unflinchingly from high above gazing through its mantle of clouds; it weighed like a crown with all of its aching heat. "I wonder how it'd feel with fur," I mused, before turning my gaze back to the office's doorway. I... couldn't distract myself for long. All that research I had done, the pep talk with my friends, they made it very clear: the first visit was the worst of them all. But like anything good and necessary, it still felt larger than it was. I could feel myself take a step back for just a moment. And then I stopped. The words of the kind man from before, and his quiet push to bring me to this place, they rang in my head as a gentle bell. Thoughts of her returned to my mind - my hands unconsciously went over my heart, head rolled to the side. I started to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. The door gave way to a refreshing reprieve an an audience of chairs. "Barely anyone else here... suppose it *is* a work day." The few merits of unemployment aside, it did make me feel still ever so uneasy. I couldn't help it! And it wasn't just fear either. Looking to my side, I saw the wounds upon the wall, infamously left by one of the most notable patients. Those pictures were how I knew this place even existed, and now here I was caught in the wake of it all. I passed the healing plaster patch and shuffled towards the counter. A slight woman greeted me with a smile. "How can I help you?" "I'm here for... um, I think his name was Herian?" "Oh, Dr. Herian. Did you schedule a visit?" "Yes. Uh, it's under-" "Here it is. Miss Wild?" Her pleasant smile set me at ease. I simply gave a nod. "Just sit down, it won't take any time." I sat down. Names, are a tricky thing during transition. You're constantly confronted by them throughout the process. Modern society asks you what you are through your name, but what if you don't know? What if you wished you didn't need one? Right now, my appearance didn't speak for itself but already so many people just called me the truth: "Fox". It wasn't a name, but it was me. I'd gone through earlier versions; Wild was just a nickname that I enjoyed better than the one I buried states away. And maybe this one would meet the same fate. Her voice flittered upon the air. I knew the routine, and followed my part. If the front door was merely daunting, though, the door of Dr. Herian's was something *else*. Not by the door's fault. It was entirely the man inside responsible. A man no younger than 40 sat behind a heavy desk bolted to the floor gazed right through me as I came through, his gaze shielded by thick spectacles. Only wisps of hair decorated his scalp with a bush rounding the rest and sitting over his lips. Theodore Herian was the stern face of the entire program, a genius amongst his field and a veritable boogeyman to the community. Wordlessly I sat before him in the tiny chair provided, shuffling to cut a smaller figure. "Miss..." his eyes glanced at the file before him, "Wild. According to my schedule, you're here on behalf of the Humanity Removal Therapy?" "Correct." "Mh. I see. Specifically.... ah, right. Kitsune, which involves a variant of vulpinestin. We do have the medication-" Here it comes. "-but have you been living as a fox for years, now?" "For as long as I knew what thought was." "Yes sir. I've been presenting as a fox publicly for a while now, both online and in person." Physical visits were so much more stressful than the online consultations my first transition brought with it. And the questions he asked, I felt as if he was investigating the fiber of my being. Pouring water upon glass to find any sign of the slightest crack. "To be clear, what you're asking for-"
"Practically begging for." "-is the kitsune type, not the standard North American Red Fox. This comes with more than just tails. Even more so than other HRT medications, the kitsune comes with notable side effects. Illusions, fire, s..." The voice filtered out. I knew what I was getting into, and I knew to some they'd misinterpret why. 'That I just wanted the powers' or 'it'd be okay if you were just a fox'. I might be a vixen, a creature of cunning and sneering grins - but I wasn't some kind of plotting mastermind! My fingers pinched the sweatpants I came by today in with frustration twisting under the skin. The irritation ran like wax, my mouth pulled into the faint signs of an oncoming sneer. I would be a beautiful vixen even if it killed me. Not for any reason other than to ring in a new spring. "I'll do this. I'm right here. It's almost the-" "MISS. Wild.... Good. You're back. Did you hear what I said?" I gave a flustered nod, which he responded with an exasperated sigh. "Then, I would like to be the first to thank you for coming here, and to let you know - you may pick up your medication at your chosen pharmacy." He handed over a pamphlet that felt as precious as gold in my fingers. For moments, I was on autopilot. Step Step Step Step At some point I recall bidding a polite farewell to the receptionist? But my mind was a buzzing hurricane of thoughts, a whirl of actions. Petals honey gold silk cars sirens light heat skin sweat lock key ho-! My door clicked behind me, the vacancy greeting me warmly. The bag crumpled underneath my fingers. And when I heard that rattle? The light kissing the bottle and coming out changed as an amber gold nectar that seeped into the floor? I wept, and delighted sounds of a fox escaped my throat. Kitsune HRT: Week 1 OH MY GODS OH MY GODS I HAVE THE MEDICINE, AAAAAA -No changes yet. First pills, but so stoked. -Gods I felt I was going to die in that office. -Thank the fucks I do not have oh HELLS. -....I hope I end up fluffy
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#kitsune#kitsune hrt#trans#transgender#otherkin hrt#otherkin#therian#therian hrt#animal hrt#short story#transformation
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