#i have it on good authority (my boyfriend) that i look good with scruff so it's nbd

[anendtopursuit]

the real thing nobody warned me for when starting T was how hard it is to like. actually remember to shave ur face

[thetriumphantpanda]

Beggin' For It | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Orgasm Denial

Chapter Summary | Your new boyfriend Joel, in the process of helping you pack up your apartment, finds your stash of porn, full of all the things you've been scared of asking for. He surprises you by offering to help you tick them off, starting by denying you the thing you always love the most.

Chapter Warnings | This is basically porn without plot. Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV sex, talk of contraceptives, orgasm denial, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (baby), hair pulling, established relationship, No Outbreak AU, No Use of Y/N.

Word Count | 3.7k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Well here we go, the Joel Miller Kink extravaganza. I had SO much fun writing this and putting this together so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I love writing it! If you do enjoy this, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

Your face is burning hot, and your stomach is in knots of anxiety as you stand in the doorway to your room, two glasses of water in hand, watching Joel, who is sat on your bed with a spread of magazine’s spread out across the duvet. Those fucking magazines, stored carefully in the bottom drawer of your bedside table. Some are straight up pornographic, plucked from the top shelf of the store, paid for and shoved into the depths of your bag before anyone apart from you and the cashier knew what it was. Others are those silly gossip magazines, Cosmopolitan mainly, pages folded in all of them of the pictures you like the most, the ones that help you get off the quickest, the things you want to try the most. And they’re all spread out for him to see. 

“W-where did you f-find those?” You choke out, swallowing thickly, hands gripping the two glasses so hard you’re surprised they don’t shatter. 

Joel shrugs, “You asked me to start packing the stuff from the drawers into boxes,” He says, because you did, your apartment in disarray as you’re packing up to move into his home, “I opened the drawer and found them.” 

Joel was never planned. You’d been more than happy on your own. When you met him, on a random Sunday morning, you’d been out of your last relationship for almost a year. You’d been staring at different types of nails at the hardware store, cursing yourself that you hadn’t thought to research what the best nails for hanging pictures up would be, when his Southern drawl had pricked your ears. 

“Need any help, miss?” 

You’d turned, taken a step back because he was taller than you, broad, and definitely older too. Grey scruff peppered along his jaw, some in his hair too, and big brown eyes that screamed kindness at you. He was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. 

“Huh?” Was all you could manage to let out, cursing yourself for seeming like the typical dumb woman at the hardware store. 

“Been milling around gettin’ some stuff and you’ve been starin’ at that wall’a nails for a while,” He chuckles, stepping forward so he’s next to you, “What d’ya need ‘em for?” 

“Oh,” You breathe, he smells good too, woodsy and masculine, “I’m wanting to hang some pictures on my walls.” 

He hums in understanding, reaching over to grab a pack of nails that are miles longer than the ones you would have chosen. He holds them out to you, which you take, fingertips brushing against his as you do, “Thanks,” You smile at him, “I would never have chosen these ones.” 

“You got everythin’ you need to hang them?” He asks, “Tools and stuff?” 

You shrug this time, “I’ve got a hammer, is that going to do it?” 

The look in his eyes is akin to what you imagine someone would look like if you’d just kicked a dog in front of them, he shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and then hands you card that he pulls out. You take it, the words ‘Miller Contracting’ and a phone number underneath it. 

“Usually, I’m more of a building from scratch guy, but you can’t hammer these nails into a wall, so give me a call and I can come and hang your pictures for you.” 

So, you do. Late that evening, you call him, tell him you’ve got the weekend free, and you’d like to get your pictures hung. He comes over, you watch him closely as he hangs them perfectly on your wall. You make him dinner as a thank-you, considering he won’t let you pay him, and then after two beers, you let him fuck you on your couch. It’s not usually your style, but nine months later, it seems to have worked, considering he’s moving you into his house. 

Like most things that had to do with your life and Joel, moving in this early had never been planned either. Sarah, his daughter, who you’d met multiple times, had her own life, her own home, and the lease to your apartment in the city was ending early. Something to do with the landlord wanting to completely redecorate. Joel had offered his place to you, which made sense, considering you spent most of your time at his anyway. So, you’d emailed your landlord, told him you’d be out by the end of the month, and were now packing up everything you owned to move into Joel’s place. Start a new life. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” He coos, “Some interesting stuff here.” He muses, reaching over to pick up a copy of one of the more explicit magazines, opening it on a page that’s got the corner folded over, the picture is a woman, bent over on her knees with her hands spreading the cheeks of her ass, an anonymous man pounding his cock into her, a look of ecstasy on her face. 

You can’t bare it anymore, so you put the glasses down on chest of drawers and made a beeline to snatch it out of his hand, “Now, hold your horses, baby,” He teases, managing to grab your waist to catch you off balance, pulling you onto his lap where you straddle him, the other hand holding the magazine out of your reach, “What do the folded pages mean?” 

You groan, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder, grumbling incoherently into him in the hopes he drops the subject, but this is Joel, and you should have known better. He pushes his shoulder forward, forcing your head up, “I didn’t quite hear you, baby?” 

Dick, is what you think, “They’re things I like,” You mumble, “Think that get me off.” 

He turns his head towards the bed with a smirk, “Lots of folded pages, baby,” He teases, Joel lets the magazine in his hand drop to the bed, gripping your waist in both hands, “Don’t need to be shy baby, nothin’ wrong with any of it.” 

It’s not really that you’re embarrassed by what’s in the magazines, it’s more the fact that even though you and Joel have an extremely healthy sex life, not one you would necessarily call vanilla, but certainly not kinky, there were things you were scared of asking for. There was a mental list of things you’d read about in the advice columns of Cosmo, pictures you’d seen in the other magazines, that you were dying to try, but how do you bring up to your boyfriend of not even a year, that you want him to bend you over and stuff his cock into your ass? 

Joel brings a hand up to your face, cups your cheek and brushes the skin there with his thumb, “Why don’t you show me something you want to try?” He coaxes gently, his brown eyes meeting your own. 

Your eyes go wide. You had always been worried of asking for these things, worried it would scare him off, or that he just didn’t want to branch out into anything too kinky, but here he is, offering to help make your fantasies come true, “Go on.” He taps at your sides. 

You lean over, grab one of the issues of Cosmo and flick through it to the page with the folded corner right at the back. You pass it to Joel, who takes it, letting his eyes flick to the column of sex advice. He clears his throat and starts reading with you still perched on his lap. 

“Dear Angela,” he reads in his Southern drawl, “I’ve been with my fiancé for over five years now. We’re very happy and our wedding is in a year’s time, but I’m struggling to connect with him sexually now. I think the problem is that he’s too nice. Outside of the bedroom, this is wonderful, but do you have any advice on how we might be able to spice things up with our sex life?” He then clears his throat again before launching into ‘Angela’s’ response, “Dear reader, this is something I deal with often. You’re happy with everything but the sex, but don’t lose hope because this is fixable. If you want him to get a little mean with you, nothing says that like denying you the big one, the final ‘O’ if you will. Talk to him, tell him it’s something you want, and have fun!” 

You’re looking at his face as he ponders what that means. He’s putting the magazine down on the bed, bringing his hands back to your hips, looking into your eyes, “Am I too nice to you, baby?” He coos, “Need me to be a little mean t’ya?” 

His voice flashes straight down to your cunt. You wriggle in his lap, the seam of your jeans rubbing along the bulge that is prominent in his own lap. He holds you still, fingers pressing into your hips, “I don’t think so baby, tryin’ to get yourself off like that.” 

You groan a little as he lifts you off his lap, spreads you out on the mattress. You open your legs for him, let him settle his hips between yours, grinding his hips as he presses his mouth to yours. You can feel his chest pressed against your own, the entire weight of him smothering your body, his hands smoothing your hair from your forehead as you open your mouth for him, letting him lick into your mouth, tasting him as your tongue works against his. 

You buck your hips up into his own, your hands coming down to slip into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling his hips forward so you’re grinding together through your clothes, something skin to how you used to behave as a horny teenager. 

“You feelin’ needy, baby?” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he does. 

You don’t want to admit that you are, mainly because you know he’s not going to fix the problem. You’ve asked for him to be mean to you, asked him to do nothing but use you and your body for his own pleasure and leave you wanted more, so you just let out a breathy moan, which makes him chuckle, makes him grind his hips into yours again before he pushes himself back on his knees, dragging you up with him so he can pull your t-shirt off your body. 

He pushes you gently back down onto the mattress, drags those big palms of his down your sides until he reaches the waist of your jeans. He pops the button, drags the zipper down and moves his body just enough so he can peel the material down your thighs and off your body, throwing them behind him to be forgotten now. Joel leaves your bra on, but drags your pantie down your legs, pushing your thighs apart so you’re bared to him, no doubt slick and shiny for him. 

Joel stands from the bed, drops to his knees and starts pressing warm, wet kissed to the insides of your thighs. Up the left side, down the right, but never right where you want it. He teases you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, and in moments like this you’re always in awe of how patient he is, always willing to defer his own gratification in place of getting you off first and, more often than not, multiple times, before he even thinks of sinking himself into you. 

His face finally makes its way to settle where you always love having it, right at the apex of your thighs, where you’re already wet with want for him. You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin so, although you didn’t think it physically possible, you spread your legs wider, showing him your glistening, slick cunt. His fingers press into your thighs as his mouth presses a single, chaste kiss right to your clit. You breathe out in pleasure, letting yourself relax a little as you feel his tongue move slowly through your folds, moving from your entrance where your slick is pooling, just for him, all the way up to your clit. He teases you a little at first, small little kitten licks placed ever-so-gently to your clit. He knows this is what you like, when he takes his time to work you up to the edge. The edge you have to continually remind yourself you’re not going to get the opportunity to push yourself over. 

He pulls his mouth off you when you start moving your hips in time to his mouth, his palm pressing down on your belly to keep you still, “This ain’t for you,” He reminds, nipping at the delicate skin of your thighs with his teeth, “Just makin’ sure you can take me.” 

He sinks two fingers into you, curling them up just right, your back arching up off the bed to grind up into his palm as he works you open for him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough, much like with his mouth earlier. Normally he’d make you come on his tongue, then sink those fingers into you and make you come again, but he’s pulling them from your pussy, looking you dead in the eye as he presses his fingers onto your tongue. You clamp your mouth around them, licking your slick from his fingers, rolling your tongue over them in the same way you know he loves on his cock, your eyes training directly on his with no shame as you pull off them with a ‘pop’. You giggle slightly, biting at your bottom lip as Joel leans down to kiss you, tasting you on your own mouth, tasting yourself still lingering on his tongue. 

“Taste good, don’tcha baby?” He smirks, pushing you back, watching you intently as he strips himself of his clothes. 

You don’t think you’ll ever quite get over how beautiful a man he is when he stands in front of you naked. Defined and muscular at his chest, with those big arms that wrap around you, his belly, spattered with hair trailing all the way down until you get to his cock, hard, almost painfully so at this point. His strong thighs that you love to nestle yourself between at night. He is truly a spectacle and it’s moments like this that you still don’t quite believe he’s yours. 

He settles back on the bed, between your thighs, your hands grip at those broad shoulders as he reaches between the two of you, fisting the base of his cock, moving his hips slowly so his cock drags through your slick folds, the bulbous head nudging at your clit as he fists himself, spreading your wet along his length. You feel him settle himself at your entrance, pushing his hips forward just enough to give you just the tip. His nose runs along your jawline, kisses from his mouth trailing just behind, as he rocks his hips into your own, but only ever enough that it’s just the tip of his cock inside. 

“Beg for it baby,” He breathes into your skin, “You want my cock?” 

“Want it so bad, Joel,” You whine, moving your hips into his to try and take him deeper, but he’s gripping your thigh, warning you not to push it, “Please, Joel, please fuck me.” 

“Beggin’ for it even though you ain’t gonna come?” He teases, one hand moving up to your chest to pull the cups of your bra down, fingers taking your nipple and rolling. 

“Wanna feel you.” You say, burying your head into his neck, pressing your own kisses to his skin. 

Joel seems to find that satisfactory, slowly pushing himself all the way into you, dragging himself all the way out again. He leans back a bit, gripping you behind your knees to press your thighs as far into your chest as he can get them. Then he really does fuck you. He’s big, and although you know you can take him, it’s always a shock to you that it’s so easy. That he can pound into you with the ferocity he currently is, tip of his cock brushing against your cervix in that perfect mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Awful quiet baby,” He gasps out, watching you bite at your bottom lip, “Don’t like it when you don’t get to feel good?” 

You shake your head, Joel dragging himself all the way out of your aching cunt, flipping you over onto your belly. He presses his palm into the back of your neck, keeping your lower half pressed to the bed, whilst his other hand drags you up onto your knees, ass in the air for him as he guides his cock right back to you, thrusting back in all the way. You always loved it when Joel fucked you like this. The angle always managing to feel just perfect as he fucks you. 

The only sound in the room is that of your combined moans, little grunts from him and whines from your mouth, and the sound of his hips hitting yours, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. You’re starting to regret asking for this, because God it would be so easy for him to reach round, press his fingers to your clit and tip you over the edge in seconds. If it wasn’t for the way his hand was pressing at the nape of your neck, you could do it yourself, so desperate to feel the euphoria of coming undone around him. 

Joel’s thrusts are getting more frantic, even though it’s only been nine months of you together, you know he’s not going to last much longer. He slides his hand down and into the hair on the back of your head, gripping it tightly in his fist to drag your head up and out of the material of the bed. The sounds of yours once muffled by the duvet under you now let loose into the room, echoing around the walls and doing nothing but egging him on, getting him closer to the finish line. 

“You like this, huh?” He asks you from behind, “Like getting’ used, baby?” 

“Yes Joel,” Because you do, despite knowing you don’t get to finish, something about him being selfish with you, using you just get himself off, makes you unbelievably wet, “Still feels good.” 

You can hear him chuckle, fingers of his other hand gripping so hard to your hip that you’re sure he’s going to bruise you there. You don’t mind, not really, you love carrying him around with you like that. Secret marks on your skin, evidence that you’re his that only you know, only you can see, apart from when he bites at your neck, claiming you in front of everyone. 

“I’m close baby,” You can hear from behind you, the grip his hand has in your hair arching your back perfectly, angling him just so that if he just carried on like this for a few minutes you think he could make you come just like this, “You want it inside?” He asks, “Want me to fill you up?” 

This was new between the two of you, still exciting. After months of using condoms, never once a complaint from Joel, you’d held up the tiny packet of pills, the ones you’d been taking for a week in secret. Asked him to fuck you bare, fill you up with every drop if his cum, and the two of you were struggling to find a way of finishing that you enjoyed more than this. 

“Please,” You beg, whimpering as he gives another tug to your hair, pulling you back into him even further, “Please Joel.” 

“Ain’t no need for beggin’ now baby,” He groans thickly behind you, “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

You feel his hips slam into the plush of your ass a few more times before he goes still, groaning deep from his chest as you feel the warmth of his cum spread through your cunt. You can feel your own walls fluttering around him, taking his spend as deep as you can whilst trying to catch your breath. 

Fuck. You can hear him sucking in ragged breaths from behind you, hands still gripping your hips as he pulls himself from you. You whine at the loss of him, push your hips back trying to coax him into giving you what you want. God, this was such a stupid thing to want. Why would you want Joel to deny you the very thing he’d proved over and over again was the one thing he would give you without question? You’re desperate, and it wouldn’t take much, he’d have you screaming his name in less than a minute. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, “Please baby.” 

“What’s that?” He asks from behind, you can feel his chest lay across your back, pushing you down into the mattress, his cock still semi-hard against the cheeks of your ass, “You beggin’ for it, baby?” 

“Make me come.” You demand, like a little brat. 

“Awww baby,” He coos into your ear, hand coming to grip the back of your neck, “I’m such a mean man, aren’t I?” You nod your head, hoping it shakes his resolve, “Leaving you all wet and needy.” His teeth nip at your jaw, he pushes himself off you and then completely off the bed. 

You turn onto your back, watching as he picks up his clothes to get dressed. Why did you ask for this? You spread your legs, finger dipping down inside your pussy, dragging out the mix of slick and his spend to drag up to your clit. It wouldn’t take very long, already so worked up and sensitive, but he catches you before you can get there, hands tearing your own away from you. 

“Don’t be naughty,” Joel chastises, tugging on your wrist to get you to sit at the edge of the bed, he gets on his knees, loops your panties right over your ankles and drags them up, “Stand up,” You want to complain, but you do it anyway, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he drags your panties all the way up, pressing a kiss right where the waistband sits, “Be a good girl for the rest of the day and I promise I’ll make you come however you want later, okay?” 

It should embarrass you how quickly you nod your head, how your voice promises him you’ll be good for him. He kisses your forehead, helps you put the rest of your clothes on, passes you the glass of water you’d forgotten about earlier. 

“Come on,” He says, “Plenty more boxes to pack up.” 

[bxcketbarnes]

Little Distractions

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader

Words: 900+

Author's Note: Okay, so, the live he did was so fucking great. He's fucking adorable and so talented and the entire time I was thinking of how I can turn it into a fic lmfao and I did it! I hope you guys enjoy it! 🥰

You're in the middle of editing your client's photos when your phone rings. You tear your eyes away from your computer screen to see your boyfriend FaceTiming you. A small chuckle leaves your lips as you swiftly take your glasses off before answering the call.

"Hey, handsome," you grin as Ashton seems to be in his studio. You find him to look extremely adorable with the yellow beanie that's currently covering his hair.

The man smiles at you while adjusting the teal-colored bass in his lap. "Hey, love. Are you busy?" Ashton asks you and your eyes glance towards the computer.

"Mm, just a bit, yeah. Editing a photoshoot I did last week," you tell him and you see the smile drop from his lips a bit. "But, I'm able to multitask if you don't want to go."

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother you," your boyfriend mumbles as his fingers fumbled with the strings on his bass.

You give him a pointed look before sliding your glasses back on. "I'm sure, Ash. What's going on?" You ask while turning your attention back to your work.

"I'm just fiddling with some things and wanted to show you," he says with a bit of excitement and a smile comes to your face.

"Oh, I bet it's fantastic, baby," you grin and prop your phone against your computer screen.

Ashton does the same for his phone as the two of you go back to what you're doing. The music that he plays for you sounds very angelic and doesn't take long for your head to sway back and forth.

You glance at him every few minutes, listening to him mumble to himself as he tries to get the chords right. You bite your lip gently as you watch him for about a minute, seeing his hazel eyes glued to his screen.

Ashton casts his eyes down towards his phone and your breath hitches in your throat at how good he looks. You can feel your cheeks blush as the two of you make eye contact before he looks back up at the screen.

"You're cute," he mumbles before playing the clip once more. You cover your mouth with your hand as you smile to yourself, feeling yourself fawn over him like you did before the two of you started dating.

"Shut up," you chuckle into your hand and bring your eyes back to the photos you're editing. "Can't look at me like that and not expect me to swoon."

Ashton giggles and pushes away some of the strands of hair that's sticking out from under the beanie. "Can't help myself, darling. You are just so cute with glasses," he tells you with a large smile, his palm resting against his chin. "I miss you."

You let out an involuntary whine and glance towards your boyfriend, seeing the slight pout on his lips. "I miss you too, Ashton. Just a couple more weeks and I'll be back with you," you reassure him and tuck some hair behind your ear.

"I honestly just can't wait to have you in my arms again. Been far too long," Ashton mumbles and sits back in his chair, adjusting the beanie on his head.

Your heart flutters in your chest and you smile softly. "I love you so much. I cannot wait for your cuddles," you mention, and Ashton giggles while nodding his head in agreement. "And to kiss you. Definitely miss your lips."

The man licks his lips as he shakes his head, fingers roaming across the bass he's holding. "You're making me miss you more, love," Ashton laughs and you look down at him once again.

"Oops."

Your boyfriend scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. "Oops, my ass. We've been dating for five years. I know how you are," he explains and you giggle at his words, resting your knuckles against your chin. "You're a brat."

"But, you love me," you chime in and Ashton tilts his head a bit before clicking his tongue.

"I do very much," he grins and picks his phone up. "I would love to chat more, but you're not getting much done with me here and I have to come up with some lyrics."

You pout at the man and feel your heart drop a bit. "I don't want you to go though," you say sadly and Ashton sighs, running his hand along the scruff on his face. "You can't come up with lyrics while we're on the phone? I promise I'll continue working."

Ashton licks his lips and sets his phone back down. "I- I can't do lyrics in front of you. You make me nervous," he chuckles and you give him a sad smile, letting out a short breath. "Plus think of it this way… the quicker you do your work, the quicker you'll be in my arms."

You sit back in your chair and sigh in response, knowing he's right. "You're right. Okay, I'll let you go. I love you," you tell him and Ashton blows you a kiss.

"I love you, sweetheart. So much."

The two of you bid each other goodbye before hanging up. You set your phone down in the place it was sitting before he called and cross your arms over your chest.

"God, I miss you," you mumble to yourself as your eyes look at your lock screen. You smile fondly at the photo, pressing your lips together as you watch until the screen turns black. "Two more weeks…"

"Two more weeks," Ashton mumbles to himself as he sets his bass back into its holder. He shoves the beanie off of his head before combing his fingers through his hair, a sigh leaving his parted lips. "Two more weeks."

-

Taglist: @calpalirwin @sexgodashton @myloverboyash @valentine5sos @chloestemporaryfix @aladyofalbion @philthepegacorn @calumspupils @mialuvsyou @bvbygxrl @suchalonelysunflower @devilatmydoor @spicycal @marshmallowtraver @jessalyn-jpeg @maddz-world @everyscarisahealingplace @itsasadfishworld @iwritesiriusly @notinthesameguey @talkfastromance4 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @likehuhdude @hoodhoran @lrhbabylon @the-ghost-of-ash @itjustkindahappenedreally @major5sosstan @calmsweetcreature​ @joanniecandy​ @hopelessromantic727​ @wiiildflowerrr​ @secretsicanthideanymore @mystic-233

[staytiny-angel]

Shall We Play a Game?

Rating: M

Pairings; "Hangman" Adam Page/Female OC (Ava Grace Page), Finn Balor/Female OC (Violet Balor), Becky Lynch/Seth Rollins, Austin Theory/Damien Priest

Warnings: Swearing, Seth being Seth

Summary: Ava and Adam are about to leave on their long awaited Honeymoon.

Authors Note: This story takes place in the Emoverse a shared universe created by myself, @rowina-blck and @swifteforeverandalways This part was Cowritten with Rowina

I've tried to write this so that no prior knowledge of the Emoverse is needed but in case I missed something AEW and WWE are currently in the middle of a "World's Collide" Event, Violet Balor is Rowina's OC, the wife of Finn Balor, the two have a baby girl named Raven and she is my OCs Best Friend. Seth Rollins, Becky Lynch and Drew McIntyre are a committed throuple, If you have any questions just shoot me an ask.

"Finally" Ava said as she packed her bags,"I can't believe it took six months for Tony to approve our Honeymoon"

"With the invasion going on we're lucky he's letting us go now,Sugar" Adam repiled from his spot on their bed

"I told him if he didn't I would make his life a living hell" She said locking the last suitcase and jumping on the bed to snuggle in her husband's arms.

"Hawaii here we come" Adam said, nuzzling behind his wife's ear "I've got plans for you, Sugar" he half growled directly into her ear making her shiver.

The next day at Monday Night Raw, the pair was sitting in catering with Violet and Becky waiting for their turn to go on.

"I'm gonna miss you!" Violet said to her pseudo sister and fellow Judgement Day member. "A whole month Ma Cherie Who's going to help me keep Austin and Damien in line?" “Maybe Athena’s up for a company switch” Ava laughed, Raven babbling on. “I cannot believe this little thing is almost two” Adam hugged her close. “I know” Violet kissed her head. “Are you thinking of having kids?” Adam and Ava looked at each other and nodded "We've talked about it but we're not ready right at this moment" Adam said bouncing Raven on his lap and smiling when the toddler giggled and tugged on his scruff

"Honeymoons are mysterious things" Becky said on a laugh "You better be prepared"

"You just got here and your already leaving for a month!" Seth said loudly as he dropped into a chair at the table. “Sorry Dad” Ava giggled. “Just know I have Nicky on speed dial to guilt trip you”

“That’s evil”

Violet laughed as Austin entered being carried by Damian.

“Judgment Day wins!” He cheered. “And you did nothing” Ava teased "Hey! Cheerleading is a very important part of the whole winning routine" Austin says as Damien took a seat, and Austin sat on his boyfriend's lap.

"Hawaii, sis? Cliche much?" Austin said to Ava with a smirk

"Hey! It was good enough for literally everyone at this table" Ava says "We're gonna have fun, see the sights"

Adam covered Raven's ears and murmured "All the sights we can see from the bed and the hot tub"

"HEY!" Seth yelled "No innuendos about my daughter"

“Overprotective much?” Violet teased. “Silence” “Stop being naughty Moi Chaton, or I may have to punish you” Ava laughed while Adam looked horrified “You didn’t know my wife was Seth’s dom back in the day?” Finn tease

Adam blinked "No that was not something I was aware of" he says very primly "I knew they were together but not like that"

"It's disgusting, she's my sister and he's practically my dad. I don't like to think about how they used to bone" Ava said with a grossed out expression on her face

"Can we change the subject there are children present" Becky said laughing

"And on that note we're out of here" Ava said. I need to kick Britt's ass one more time before I bounce.

"Please do after that neck comment towards my little sister" Seth practically growled Violet crossed her arms and nodded. "If you need Judgement Day to make ourselves known we will be at the ready"

"Family? See you later" Ava leaned of and softly kissed her husband before heading to the gorilla position as Dionsyus by BTS blasted out into the arena and the boos started. She didn't give a fuck that the WWE Universe seemed to hate her, it didn't even matter that Britt was a heel too. No one. But no one fucked with her family especially her Aunt Saraya after all the work she'd done to come back to the sport she loved so much.

And after? Well 31 days in bed with her husband sounded like an awfully good reward.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

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You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you. 

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily. 

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.” 

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.” 

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently. 

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

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The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun. 

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes. 

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease. 

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.” 

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips.  He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time. 

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?” 

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave. 

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

[andrea-lyn]

The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there! 

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

//

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend. 

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

 Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

OR

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way 

Sundering by romancandles 

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies (jms.eds@jms.com)

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

 (TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends. 

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

[jobean12-blog]

Fool in the Rain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader 

Word Count: 1,429

Summary: Bucky comes to your rescue or maybe you come to his. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the lovely prompt below from @buckys-henley​ Thank you for sending it in and to all the people on the west coast experiencing these fires, I’m sending my love to you always and please stay safe and be well and reach out if you need, I’m here! I had this idea while driving home yesterday and the prompt came in and I thought it would work well. Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Soft and shy Bucky, protective Bucky, sweet fluffy goodness, blushes and soft touches, kisses in the rain :) 

“Hey Buck, what are you staring at?” Steve asks, trying to follow his line of sight but there are too many people in the bar. Sam leans back in his chair and looks around, finding you seated by the bar. “Oh, the lady in red. I can see why she has your attention Barnes.” Bucky drops his eyes to his beer, ignoring Sam. Steve’s elbow nudges Bucky’s and some of the beer spills over, “why don’t you go say hi. I don’t see a boyfriend around.”

Bucky looks up at his two friends, eyes wide and his cheeks already turning pink. “I think I’ll just have another beer,” he mumbles, standing quickly and walking to the other end of the bar. “He has a full beer right in front of him,” Sam says, shaking his head. “It’s funny to see him like this, he was quite the ladies’ man back in the 40’s.” Both Sam and Steve laugh, trying to cover it up when they see Bucky returning.

“What’s so funny?” Sam presses his lips together but can’t stop the words, “Steve said you were a ladies man way back when. What the hell happened?” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes drift over to you once again. “Shit” he grinds out, watching as you talk animatedly with some tall guy. “Too slow, Pal, told ya you should have went to say hi.”

Bucky glares at Steve, about to tell him off when his super solider hearing picks up on a distressed voice. He swings his head your way to see you push off the stool and back away from the guy. Your face is scrunched up in anger and you’re clearly upset. Bucky rushes over, picking up on a few words as he gets closer. “Hey asshole, I said no thank you. Can you please leave me alone?” The guy inches closer, his hand reaching out to touch you.

You swat it away, “I didn’t say you could touch me, take a hint!” Before the guy can make another stupid move, Bucky has him by the shirt collar, easily lifting him off the floor with his metal arm. “Hey dickhead, do you not understand what no means?” The guy starts to kick his feet and try to find footing and you giggle behind Bucky. He smiles, dropping the guy to the floor and turning to you.

“Are you ok?” You meet his eyes with an appreciative smile, “I am, thank you.” Your eyes quickly shift over Bucky’s shoulder and you open your mouth to scream and tell him to look out because the guy is about to throw a punch but Bucky turns just in time and stops him mid swing, twisting his hand awkwardly until the guy yells and flinches away. “What the fuck?”

The guy stares at Bucky’s metal arm while he rubs his wrist, “I guess you’re into freaks.” You slide up next to Bucky and take his metal hand in yours, holding it tightly and kissing his cheek. “Well I’m definitely not into douchebags.” With that you spin and walk from the bar, dragging Bucky behind you.

When the cool night air hits your skin you sigh in relief, not letting go of Bucky’s hand and smiling up at him. “Thank you again. I appreciate you coming to my rescue…” You motion for more, hoping he’ll give you a name. He shuffles on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand, “James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

You stand on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek again, finally releasing his hand. “Thank you again Bucky. It’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n.” Bucky’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, his blush hard to hide even behind the scruff that lines his cheeks. “It’s really nice to meet you too and you’re welcome,” He finally manages to say, audibly swallowing while he stares at you. “You looked like you were handling him just fine but then he had to get touchy and I couldn’t let that happen.”  

You grab his hand again and start walking down the street. “Well, maybe but you handled it better. So, I hope I’m not keeping you from your friends back there” He looks at your intertwined hands in astonishment before answering, “nah, they’re fine. I’m not uh, keeping you from anyone or a date or um a guy or a friend or maybe you wanna be alone.” He keeps rambling, fumbling over his words and slowly squeezing your hand tighter.

You stop walking and trace your fingers along his jaw, “no, none of those things, looks like you’re stuck with me.” He gives you a lopsided grin, “I’m pretty sure it’s me you’re stuck with.” Beaming, you start swinging your arm, taking his along with it. “Sounds good to me, you did rescue me after all. And just for the record, Bucky, I don’t think you’re a freak. I’m sorry he said that to you.” He’s quiet for a moment, slowing his pace, “thanks, I’m glad you don’t.”

“I’m happy you were there,” you say sweetly, your eyes widening when an idea hits you. “Hey!” you shout, turning to face him, “wanna get some ice cream!?” He laughs, a real genuine laugh where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunches up and you can’t help but smile, silently thanking the d-bag at the bar for bringing you Bucky.

“That sounds perfect, doll.” You squeal in happiness and keep walking down the street, chatting away about everything and nothing. The next two hours fly by in a flurry of yumminess, lots of smiles and soft touches. You try to touch him every chance you get, loving how his cheeks are permanently pink.

“So, what do we do now?” you ask, licking the last of your ice cream from the spoon and throwing it in the garbage. A cool wind blows and you involuntarily shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. Bucky quickly takes off his denim jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around your chest. “Thanks,” you whisper, standing in place and swinging your hips back and forth to make the arms fly out.

He grabs them and starts to tie them together, the both of you laughing way too loud for 1 am. When he finally gets you cocooned in the jacket, he looks you over, smiling smugly at his work. The first raindrop hits his nose and rolls off, the two of you looking upward just as more drops start to fall, the sky opening up moments later in a downpour.  

You’re shrieking and trying to get the arms of his jacket untied so you can drape it over your head. Bucky is trying to help but neither of you can stop laughing and by the time you’re free you’re both soaked. Still smiling he takes a step closer and pushes some wet hair from your face. You watch the droplets of water collect on his long lashes and meet him halfway, closing the gap between your bodies.

He doesn’t speak and takes your hand in his, resting it against his chest while the other curls around your waist. He starts to slowly sway back and forth in the street, the sounds of the rain and the city beating in rhythm with your heart. “Are you cold?” he leans in to ask, bringing his lips close to your ear. “No, I’m very warm actually, thank you.”

He nods and starts to pull away, but you reach up to cup his cheek, gently tugging his face closer. A drop of rain runs down your face and settles on your upper lip. Your tongue darts out to lick it off and Bucky’s eyes darken, his thumb swiping over the spot. His touch leaves fire in its wake and you need him to kiss you, tilting your head and barely touching his lips in a silent invitation.

It’s all the encouragement he needs to press his lips to yours, the rain all but forgotten as he holds you in his arms, dancing under the soft glow of the streetlight. The rain doesn’t stop and neither does Bucky, his tongue exploring your mouth and his hands combing through your hair. When you finally come up for air, your hands circle his neck and you rest your forehead to his. He nuzzles your nose and kisses along your jawline and up to you ear, sending shivers down your spine with his whispered words, “can we do that again?”  

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @bugsbucky​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @buckys-henley​ @buckstaybucky​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @book-dragon-13​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @imgaril-lindru​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lokilvrr​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​

[violetlou2020]

DAY 6 of @flufftober2021

Fireman's Carry

Title: Capture This [← ao3]

Author: Vividly_Violet

Fandom: Diamond no Ace

Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun

Rating: General

Word Count: 1644

⚾♦️

The cultural festival was in full blast in Seidou High School, students and visitors were milling about, each classroom occupied with whatever their class came up with, from cafe's, exhibits, game booths and photo booths. Miyuki was finishing up his last batch of yakisoba — their class opening up a simple Japanese summer festival themed restaurant — when a loud booming voice called out his name. The third year sighed before removing his apron and calling out one of his classmate to take over for him.

"You're boyfriend's looking for you," she said amused.

"I can hear that." he responded with a chuckle. Miyuki made his way over to the loud noise courtesy of Kuramochi locking the young southpaw in a headlock.

"I give up, please mochi-senpai!"

"Oi Kuramochi, there's food waiting to be served."

"Shut up bastard, I'm just keeping this loudmouth from freaking out our customers."

"You're the scary one kuramochi-senpai, if anyone's driving out customers It'll be because of your delinquent looking scary face." Eijun shouted ducking out of the other third years reach once he escaped Youichi's hold.

"Why you—" Miyuki laughed at the pair running around the semi crowded and busy classroom of class 3B until their class rep grabbed Kuramochi by the scruff of his shirt and glared at Kazuya.

"Seriously?" she sighed, "Kuramochi-san, the customers please and Miyuki-san you can go and enjoy the festival with Sawamura-kun if you'd like, you're off for today. You've done a lot of the prep work, the rest we can handle but be sure to be back before three for the clean up." Eijun let out a loud shout, thanking the class rep with a deep bow embarrassing both her and Miyuki while Kuramochi cackled at the background.

"You heard her, now let's go!" Sawamura grabbed Miyuki by his hand before dragging him out of the classroom. The catcher let the younger teen pull him from classroom to classroom, making sure to stop by some of their teammates rooms to see what their class was doing. From Kawakami's class doing fortune telling to Okumura's class doing an animal themed cafe (Eijun just had to snap a picture of Koushu with wolf ears, the growl the younger teen adding to his character).

They also visited Haruichi and Tojou's class which was doing a haunted house which Kazuya drag his boyfriend in. Sawamura jumped and screamed when he was greeted by the younger Kominato who opened the door from the other side. He wasn't even in costume since he was the one manning the entrance and Kazuya laughed at how easily jumpy Eijun is when they even hadn't even entered. After visiting each of their friends class the pair went jumping from one food stall to another to try out their foods and gamebooths much to the protest of the catchers wallet which was becoming lighter and lighter as they pass one room to another.

⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾

"Hey by the way, what's your class doing?" Kazuya asked after taking a bite out of Eijuns crepe. Both were sitting on a wooden bench under a tree just outside of the school building.

"Hey—" before he could protest Miyuki shoved his own crepe in Sawamura's mouth, taking the cue Eijun took a huge bite from the treat as revenge. Miyuki shook his head before taking another bite off his.

"Were doing a photo booth, the girls in my class kinda got obsessed with brides and grooms from this one manga that's recently became popular and demanded we have a wedding themed photo booth." Eijun answered his boyfriends earlier question.

"Wanna go take one?" Kazuya joked but Eijun jumped to face the older teen.

"Really!?"

"I was just joking."

"But—" the younger teen gave his best puppy dog eyes, a move that was greatly effective with getting whatever he wanted from his boyfriend except for catching for him more. He still needs to work on it to reach that level.

"Fine." the pair made quick work of their crepe and headed off to Sawamura's classroom.

Kanemaru greeted them by the door of class 2B, giving one look at the exasperated team captain and overly excited southpaw before ushering them in.

"So we get to have a costume change and have photos taken of us." Miyuki asked, eyeing the other couples who were having their photos taken.

"Pretty much, we have some backgrounds installed here and costumes that the theater club kindly lent us." the sandy blond teen said as one of their female classmate approached them holding the wedding attires.

"Shinji-kun we have a problem!"

"Huh?"

"We don't have an extra tux!" she exclaimed. Both Shinji and Kazuya paused to stare at her before turning their heads towards Eijun, a grin plastered both on their face. The south paw gulped and tried to make a run for it but Kazuya pulled him to his chest.

"Hey, where do you think you're going, wasn't it you who wanted to have our photos taken."

"I changed my mind." protested the teen, Miyuki's hold tightened.

"Kamemaru!" Sawamura wailed at his fellow first years for help but Shinji was holding up the white wedding dress and Furuya was standing behind the blond, coming out of nowhere, with a camera on hand.

The rest of their classmates seemed to ignore the screams from behind the changing curtain and echoing cackle of Kanemaru as he forcefully shoved the south paw in the dress.

"Haruno! Make-up"

"On it!" She replied as she went inside of the curtain.

"Wait— no one said anything about make-up! Hey—"

"Miyuki-senpai the other changing area is this way."

"Ahh thanks."

After fifteen minutes with Miyuki leaning across the rooms wall having changed into a black tux with a sunflower pinned at the lapel, the curtain to Eijun's changing area finally opened revealing Eijun in a dazzling white long sleeved wedding dress that hugged his lean body perfectly.

His hair was styled in a way that revealed his heart shaped face, white and bedazzled hair clips keeping his hair away from his eyes, clip on earrings with a yellow gems hang from the brunettes ear and his lips were glimmering with the light lipgloss Haruno put on him. His cheeks were pink in hue growing redder and redder the longer Miyuki stared at his boyfriend in awe, mouth agaped and eyes wide.

Eijun blinked, batting his mascara covered eyelashes and showing off the smoky eyeshadow lids at the starstruck older teen.

"Oi you bastard say something!" Eijun yelled as he tugged at the side of his dress, Miyuki snapped from his daze giving Eijun another once over from his head to his heel clad toes.

"Oi you pervert! Stop staring at me like that." the southpaw shrieked and the catcher just chuckled before taking Eijun's hand into his and giving it a squeeze before he pulled it up and placed a kiss on the back of Eijun's pitching hand.

"You're really pretty like this, you know? My lovely pretty bride." Miyuki said shamelessly causing the pitcher to combust. From behind, someone cleared their throat and the pair jumped in surprise, they forgot they weren't the only people in the room.

"Yo remember us?" Shinji said drily while the rest of his classmates were trying to busy themselves and not look at the flirting couple in the room.

"Ahh sorry about that."

"If you guys are done we can take the pictures now."

"Sure."

"So how do you want us."

The pair were led to the other side of the room where flowers were arranged in to an arch and one of the students handed Eijun a bouquet of flower while another fixed the veil on his head. The photographer snapped a picture of the two standing side by side with Eijun's hands wrapped around Kazuya's arm, another with a peace sign and a couple more with different posses all the while most of the female students gushed about how good they look together.

"Hey how 'bout I carry you in a bridal carry?" Miyuki whispered in Sawamura's ear.

"A wha–" but before the younger teen could get ready Miyuki began to lift him up. Sawamura squirmed around at the hold, trying to have Miyuki put him down and shouting how embarrassing it was. The older teen struggled to keep the brunette in place but to no such luck, instead Miyuki heaved a sigh before picking up Eijun again and putting him on his shoulder in to a firemans carry instead of a bridal one.

A couple of shuttering of the camera lens later and with no signs of Miyuki letting him go, Eijun gave up and held on to his catchers strong shoulders grumbling to himself as he heard Miyuki chuckle.

One last shoot, Miyuki brushing his hands across the brunettes thigh and a red hand imprint on Miyuki's face and dressed back in their casual wears later both were heading back to Miyuki's classroom.

"Uhhg I can't believe you did that in front of all my classmates."

"I know, did you see Kanemaru's face."

"That's not— uhhg you're imposible."

"Thank you!"

"Not a compliment."

"Haha love you too."

⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾

Later that evening, Eijun pinned the photo of Miyuki carrying him on his shoulder on the small corkboard over on his desk. Kuramochi who was lounging on his bed rolling his eyes at his roommate tossed his phone to Sawamura. The messenger app of the phone was open to their teams group chat and Eijun let out a squeak upon seeing tons of photos of him in both the changing area and in the photo shoot. When he looked at the name of the sender, he gaped. All were sent by Furuya.

Just then a grinning tanuki sticker was sent and Eijun just plopped down face first on Kuramochi's bed where said person was laughing at him.

[jaa1682-27]

The Incident

(GIF NOT MINE.) 

Author’s Note: The title is the working title until I come up with something else. Welcome to my Tumblr and welcome all!!! This is a Frankie Morales x Female Reader fic inspired by one of my favorite movies, While You Were Sleeping. This is my first Reader fic, but if your interested, check out the other fics on my Tumblr!!

Chapter 1-The Accident

“Baby, All I want for Christmas is You…”

Mariah Carey blared from the speakers above. While it was a great song, if you worked in the small, local bookstore/coffee shop as you did, every time you heard this song, you wanted to poke your eyes out and drown your ears in hot coffee as you had heard it for the 5th time that morning.

It was 3 weeks until Christmas, and while everyone was nicer and jollier than usual, you were dreading each day as Christmas got closer. You loved Christmas…until 2 years ago.

xxx

You were celebrating Christmas with your Grandma, your only living relative and the kind, sweet woman who raised you, until she collapsed in the kitchen as she pulled out the Special Holiday Roast that she made. You found out that night that she had stage 4 breast cancer and the cancer had already spread to other parts of her body.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t even afford the chemo and other therapies as you had been laid off from your publishing job when the company went bankrupt and you still had $40,000 worth of student debt to pay off. Luckily, your Grandmother’s longtime friend, Pam Greenburg, owned a local bookstore and had just opened up a coffeeshop inside of the store. You were one of her first hires and she happily gave you as many extra shifts and overtime once the store started doing well.

However, it wasn’t enough. Despite you, Pam, her husband, and even your best friend, Cassie’s efforts to hold fundraisers, bake sales, yard sales, etc., it was just too late and your grandmother was too far gone. Plus, she’d rather use the money to help you financially as well as plan her funeral arrangements.

Then that July of the following year, she passed. Pam and Cassie were with you every step of the way and you were grateful for their friendship. The following Christmas was bittersweet for you. You had your wonderful friends who made sure to get you out of the house so that you wouldn’t be alone, but you felt like an outsider around Pam’s husband, kids, and grandkids as well as Cassie’s boyfriend and her family.

You even attempted hooking up with Cassie’s boyfriend’s cousin, but you quickly realized once he finished and asked you to leave his apartment immediately afterwards that feeling alone was better than feeling used.

Xxx

So, here you were, back again a year later, dreading Christmas to come. You were dreading it even more this year because Cassie was going to Hawaii with her boyfriend’s family and Pam was flying out the day before Christmas Eve to be there for the birth of her youngest son’s firstborn.

So it was just going to be you, your cat, Leroy, a tv dinner, and Netflix. Granted, that was how most of your evenings, days off, and weekends went anyways. You were in a rut but you didn’t know how to get out of it.

None of the publishing jobs you applied to were hiring, and you couldn’t afford to move out of the rental property Pam’s husband leased to you at a heavily discounted rate, not with your paycheck, at least.

Day in, day out, Get up, feed cat, feed self, work, feed self/talk to Cassie on her lunch break, back to work, pick up possible second shift, go home, order takeout/warm up tv dinner/maybe cook something, feed cat, watch Netflix, go to bed.

Rinse and repeat. Your life for the past year and a half.

The only bright spot in your day walked in about three and a half months ago (not that you were counting). He looked about a good decade or more older than you, but you were almost 30 so age wasn’t really a factor.

He had the kindest, warmest brown eyes you had ever seen, sweet, kissable lips, a jawline that set his face just right, a sharp, hook nose that would look horrible on anyone else but only added to his appeal, and a 70’s porn stashe with just the right amount of scruff around his mouth and jaw that gave him a rugged sexiness. Dark, unruly hair constantly stuck out from different angles underneath the green baseball cap he wore as if it was permanently glued to his head, but you smiled on the day you noticed that it seemed to curl a bit at the nape of his neck.

You two had only exchanged pleasantries, but in your mind, you had planned your first date, kiss, sloppily making out with him on your couch after the third date, and eventually your wedding. You didn’t know why; you were just drawn to him.

He also seemed like a kind man as he always held the door for whomever walked through, he would let others skip ahead of him in line, and constantly over tipped you. Realistically, you only knew two things about him-his name was Frankie and he liked his coffee black, with 2 creams and 1 sugar. Still, it didn’t stop you from daydreaming about him during the day and fantasizing about him at night.

Xxx

2 weeks and 4 days until Christmas, everything changed. The day started off routine, you got up, fed the cat, fed yourself, went to work.

Today, though you were here for the early morning shift around 7 AM, and to your surprise, Frankie was here too.

Hmm, that’s odd, he’s never this early, you thought, as he usually made his way in around 9-9:30. You shrugged it off and went about your usual business, taking orders and collecting the money.

Frankie finally came up the counter, slight bags under his eyes as if he has been up all night. You noticed the slight slump in his shoulders and he barely made eye contact with you, keeping his head down.  

Very off from his usual, shy but friendly demeanor that he had always had with you. Nonetheless, you took his drink order, and wrote his name on the cup. Except this time you bit your lip as you debated writing your number on his cup.

That would be stupid, he might be married-or have a girlfriend!!! Or a boyfriend…or both!!!

But…you hadn’t seen a ring on his finger, but that didn’t really mean much these days.

“Don’t let the fear of striking out, keep you from playing the game,” your grandmother’s voice whispered in your mind.

And, so, while nervous butterflies floated around in your stomach, you took the leap, and wrote your name and number under his name on the cup before sending it off to the barista.

You turned back to Frankie, who was looking down at his phone with a frown, and told him the total. He nodded and gave you a 50 dollar bill.

When you tried to give him the change, he said quietly, “Keep the change,” before heading over to the pickup line. Immediately afterwards, another girl came to relive you so that you could tend to the dining room.

You decided that today you would try to give him his change back as it was way more than what he usually gave. You quickly realized that he was not in the store a few minutes too late and chased after him, but he was already outside, crossing the clear intersection.

“Hey, wait!” You called out, and then it seemed as if time slowed down and sped up at the same time.

In the middle of the street, Frankie finally turned to you, an annoyed, yet puzzled look on his face, as a delivery truck ran the light, turning on the corner quickly, only to skid on a small slick of ice.

The truck side swiped him, and he fell to the ground, his body and head hitting the street with a loud smack, his coffee cup rolling around as hot coffee spilled around him.

The truck screeched to a stop as you and another bystander ran to Frankie’s aide. The bystander, a tall man in a fresh grey suit, pulled out his phone to call the paramedics as you rolled him over on his side to check him.

You were no nurse or EMT, but you wanted to make sure that he was okay. You gently patted his cheek, but he didn’t stir. You let out a breath of relief as his chest rose and fell.

A short while later, it seemed as if you were now on autopilot, a mere bystander to the next few hours of your life. When the ambulance and police arrived, you answered the questions numbly, they even tried to give you a blanket, but you weren’t the one that had been side-swiped by a truck. Pam gave her statement, and as you watched Frankie be loaded into the ambulance, you couldn’t help but worry about him.

“Maybe you should go with him. Make sure that he’s okay? I’ll cover for you,” Pam told you as she patted your arm gently.

You nodded silently, and the paramedics allowed you to ride in the ambulance with him. However, when you arrived at the hospital, he was whisked away to the emergency room. You tried to join them, but a doctor stopped you and said, “Sorry, but unless you’re family or a legal representative for the patient, you can’t come back here.”

He walked back behind the doors, both of them swinging shut in your face as they whisked Frankie away. You sighed, defeated, and decided to wait in the lobby and try again in a bit. As you walked, head down, your mind replaying the day’s events, you mumbled under your breath, “I was gonna marry that man.”

Little did you know, a nearby nurse with sweet eyes and bright orange hair had overhead you. She sighed in pity and said quietly, “Oh, sweetie.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

WE ARE SAMCRO

Marcus Álvarez x Jackson Teller's sister!Reader

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with Marcus Alvarez in which you are Jax sister and you’re dating Alvarez behind Jax back. and he finds out because he finds you two cuddling

Word Count: 2.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Taking off the helmet growling because of the pain burning in your lower lip, you crossed the wooden door to the bar. The place was full of bikers from Cali and neighboring states with rock music playing through the speakers, and old beer smell in the environment. Some men greeted you with something similar to a reverence, as you walked to the bar. Sitting on a stool, in the farthest corner, you gave your helmet and the Samcro' kutte to James, an old bartender that knew you since ever. Your father used to take you there on Sundays, to play pool with his friends. Now you only used to go whenever you had a bad day, even if your life wasn't good at all. Unsheathing the gloves that covered your hands, you tried to stretch the fingers of your right one with some dry blood on your knuckles.

“Clay?” The man asked offering you a cold gel pad to put it on. You nodded, knowing you didn't need to use any words. He already knew what was happening between you and your mother's boyfriend.

“I need something strong”. You just said, lying your cheek above the forearm supported on the old bar.

Putting an empty glass close to you, James served you a premium whisky before push a little the drink to you.

“Aren't you Jackson's sister?”

Behind you, a mexican accent claimed your attention. Your lips were touching the edge of the glass, drowning a heavy sight there before having a long sip.

“Not tonight”.

Chuckles at your back, trying to figure out at what time you told a joke to make him laugh. You turned your body over the stool with a lot of curses piling up in your tongue, hushing your restless mind when you read ‘Mayans Oakland’ on a leather vest like yours. Shit, the only thing you needed to crown yourself that day. Swallowing saliva, you licked your lips somewhat nervous.

“My apologies, Álvarez”.

You didn't know him, not personally, but you heard about Mayans and his deals with Samcro. And maybe you saw him at Teller-Morrow once, but you weren't sure at all.

“Rough day, mija?”

“I wish”. Crossing a leg above the other, you supported your back against the wood. “I'm fine, okay? Oakland and Charming's deals doesn't include me. You don't have to babysit me”.

Maybe it sounded rude, but you didn't really care about what image he had of you. Sitting up and turning again to gave him your back, you continued trying to enjoy your loneliness on the corner your father used to drink, feeling something closer to him. The amaranth liquid scraping your throat, trying to control some tears that wanted to fall down by your cheeks, made you remember old times you thought you had forgotten. Your phone ringed, sparkling your brother's name on the screen, pushing you loud to reality. And when you were about to hung up the call, a finger with a golden ring in it did it for you. The mexican sat next to you, grabbing your phone to turn it off. You noticed that he wasn't wearing the leather jacket anymore, whilst he was attracting the bartender's attention with the same finger raised up to indicate him to serve two more drinks. After that gesture, he offered you his right hand on air.

“Marcus”.

You looked down to it, doubting for a second until you understood what he was trying. At least, be pleasant. Putting away the cold gel pad over your knuckles, you narrowed his softly, enough to not hurt your hand a little more.

“(Y/N)”.

“Rough day?”

“Most like a hellish one”.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Sounds like I could fix the world telling you my shit”.

“Not at all, but letting go all that shit and drinking four glasses more, you will sleep better”.

“Will you take my bike, ride me home and tuck me into bed?”

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

It has been six month since that night when Marcus, without knowing it, saved you. You know he had a talk with Clay that made your stepfather's behavior change with you. You don't know what happened inside the SOA's meeting room, although you're sure that Álvarez didn't tell him anything about you were together, but if he touched you again Mayans wouldn't keep the deal with Sons. And that did not suit Clay. And you started to feel more happy and full of life, especially when Marcus used to come to Charming. It was pretty fun pretend that you were just somekind of friends, or most like a man treating with respect a girl who enjoyed her work as mechanic at Teller-Morrow. But whenever you could hide from prying eyes, you fell a little more for each other. No one suspected about you two.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Marcus spent the day touring Cali coast from the mexican border and it wasn't on his plans to stop in Charming, being that he should visits Samcro in a couple of days. Oakland was only an hour away, more or less, but stand with you for a night was what he really needed. And you weren't even waiting for him, so it was a surprise when you opened the door and found him there.

At first it takes you some seconds to react, noticing how his face turns to somewhat confused, till you practically jump into him wrapping his body with your legs and his neck with your arms. Hugging him as Marcus guides his feet inside the flat to close the door behind his back, you fill with kisses all his face finally reaching his lips. Catching them between yours in a soft and dearly gesture, you can feel how he melts under all the love you always give him.

“Did you miss me, ah?” He mutters touching his nose with you, keeping closed his eyes.

“Didn't you?” You reply back with some chuckles.

“I'm here”.

Continuing his steps to the huge sofa placed in front of the TV, he lays down there making himself a space between your legs. It's impossible not miss Marcus, seeing him every four or five days with some luck and having to pretend that you're just friends. Leaving some caresses and gentle touches on his scruff and head, you kiss his right cheek as he lets you do whatever you want with him.

“I just wanted to come home, have a shower and sleep with you”. He says drowning a heavy yawn, resting his forehead on your chest. “So, don't move. I'll be back in five minutes”.

“Okay, amor”.

Giving you a last smooth kiss, for the moment, he gets up walking towards the room you usually share, supposing to take some comfortable clothes. Whilst the man is inside the room, you can't help but thinking about how amazing sounded the word ‘home’ in his tongue, giving you some tickles in the stomach. Somewhat inexplicable. You never thought you could feel something like that for anyone, always believing that the only thing you aspired to was being a simple mechanic at the orders of others. From your house to the workshop and vice versa.

When he's done, looking like he's a new man, Marcus accommodates his body with yours wrapping your waist with his arms and tangling his legs into yours. Leaving a relaxed sight on air and resting the head on your chest, he closes his eyes. You can feel how tired the Mayan is, dragging softly your nails above his bare back wanting to make him feel more relaxed. Sometimes you think about the difference between he being alone with you and he being with his crew. You have seen him in action with a gun in his hand threatening whoever, as if he hasn't any feelings, nor even heart. But then, he comes to your house and tell you thousand times how much he loves you whilst preparing you some dinner or cuddling at bed.

“Next month we're going to close an allies' deal with SOA”. He says a little sleepy and lowly. “I think we could stop hiding after it”.

You feel some nerves running through your skin, when you hear those words. You really want to do it. And actually, if no one knows nothing about you to, except some Mayans, it's because you asked him to keep the secret. You don't care about what your mother, nor Jax, nor Clay could say, but because of Mayans deals. You don't want to fuck up his MC. And that's why you feel somewhat scared. You have the feeling or the sensation that could suppose the end of your relationship. And Marcus is the only good thing you have in life. You don't want to lose him. You can't.

“What you think, ah?” He asks then after some seconds in silence, licking his lips as he gets up a little, enough to look at you with your gaze away. “Your mouth can lie to me, but not your eyes, mi amor. Tell me what's inside that brilliant mind”.

“I just…”

Lying by his side over the sofa, Marcus holds you tightly against his body pulling a bristle of hair behind your ear. He's worried, but not as you are.

“I just want you to promise me… that if one day you're between the sword and the wall… choose the MC before me”.

“I'm not going to promise that, (Y/N). Because that's not going to happen and I'm never going to choose the MC before you”. His voice is firm without hesitation, leaving a ephemeral caress on your left cheek, following with his eyes his own fingertips touring your skin. “You're more than a pretty face and an intelligent brain. You're my safe place. And I want you to be my family. I'm not scared of losing everything, if I have you by my side”.

“But…”

“No. There is no 'but' here, (Y/N)”.

Your name is the last word he has to say, ending the talk even if you want to continue. For him, it's enough and he doesn't want to carry on with something it has no sense. He has already chosen you ahead of the rest. You just nod leaning some inches to crash softly your lips above his, whilst his hand tangling in your hair. Sinking your face on his neck, under his chin, you leave some kisses there before falling asleep focused in his calm breathe, as usually when he's at home. There are no nightmares when he narrows you into his arms so warmly you could melt, you don't even has any kind of dream. You sleep placidly like never and waking up pretty rested.

But when you open your eyes, the sofa is empty and cold. Sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the knuckles, you yawn looking around. At the exact moment you find his kutte hanging on a chair, you see next to it a SOA one. Your heart stop, feeling how your skin begins to pale. Walking barefoot and putting on well the Marcus' shirt your wearing, poking the head out the door at the terrace, your heart jumps. Jax is there. Drinking coffee and smoking with the mexican. Swallowing saliva, you take another step outside. They stare at you in silence. You're about to sweat, cry or run away, you're not sure.

“There's more coffee in the kitchen”. Your brother just says. But your throat is full closed.

“You ok?” Marcus asks then, making you twist your neck with confusion.

“What ar—”. You can't finish the question as your brain is collapsing.

There's no blood on the floor, nor a gun on the table. They're simply good. Talking calmly as if they were friends since ever. Walking in silence to the farthest chair from them and sitting on, you rest your forearms above the table. Your brother push a cigar over it, making it roll to you. Lighting up in your lips, you have a deep smoke pulling it out by your nose.

“At first I thought you were just losing your shit, with all that happiness and sudden vitality. Then I thought you were maybe hanging out with a Mayan. Someone like Rafi or Jaime, but I didn' say nothing 'cause I can't remember when was the last time I saw you smiling”. Jax is the first to speak, moving the spoon inside the mug with his gaze on his fingers, before raising both blue eyes to you. “I'm okay, if you're okay, (Y/N)”.

Those words hit out the weight you've been carrying on your shoulders for six long months, feeling that finally you can breathe again.

“Clay and Gemma are gonna freak out, but you don't have to give a shit”. He says then shrugging his shoulders, whilst you're taking another puff. “I'm gonna take Samcro' presidence, and I just want you to be happy”.

You can't help but letting a tear falling down your cheek, the same one that Marcus cleans with his fingers in silence. You nod looking at your brother, licking and biting your lips softly.

“I'm sorry I didn' tell you, Jax”.

“You don' have to. You were scared, I understand it, (Y/N). I would probably do the same on your position”. Your brother replies with a low tone, holding your left hand above the table to narrow it softly.

“I have to come back to Oakland”. The mexican speaks then, turning to you with a fleeting smile on the corner of his lips. You nod at him. It wasn't the awakening that you had expected, but at least Marcus and you don't have to hide anymore. “I'll call you when I'm at the club, okay?”

Getting up from his chair, he leans towards you to leave a lovely kiss on your forehead, keeping some respect to Jax and don't kissing your lips.

“I love you”. He mutters maintaining your eyes with his.

“I love you too”. You just say pursing your lips on a shameful smile.

Colliding his shoulder against your brother's, narrowing his hand as a farewell, Marcus pick up his stuff before leaving your flat.

“Are you gonna leave Charming?” Jax asks when the main door is closed, before having a sip of his coffee.

“I don' know… We didn' talk about it”.

“I would miss you”.

Sobbing for a second, you lie down on your chair with your legs pending by the armrest.

“Wha'? It's true, little sister”.

“I'm just… thinking that it's a dream and I'm gonna wake up when I less expect it”.

“Why?”

“Seriously, big brother?” You ask playing the sarcastic card. “Me, with a chicano. I mean, I don' care about… where he's from, nor shits like that. But SOA does”.

“We are Samcro, (Y/N). Our father was the first founder, never forget it”. He replies pointing at you with his forefinger. “Clay is just like a… fuckin' cancer, that we're gonna kick'ut from the heart of our club. And even so, no one will ever tell you who you should be with. I'll not allow it, you hear me?”

[friendofhayley]

In the midst of chaos, it’s healthy to sometimes soothe ourselves with fiction so thank you, fic writers, for providing us with a safe space. Anyway here’s a list of the best fics I read this month. This rec includes 18 fics from Game of Thrones, One Direction, Teen Wolf, and The Witcher fandoms. The starred ones are *special*

Sanrion (Game of Thrones)

1. A Change of Fate by TheTruffalo | time travel fix-it fic - slow burn - BAMF!Sansa - all the unexpected friendships - 119k+

What would happen if Sansa Stark travelled back in time to the beginning of Game of Thrones? How would she change the future? With her knowledge of the future, marriage to Tyrion Lannister, allegiances to the Targarian Dynasty and lets not forget her tutelage under the notorious Lord Baelish, what will she change? She is not a Little Bird this time, no, now she is a wolf. This time she will come out on top. The question is, who will she bring with her and who will be the collateral? It is all in the days work when playing the Game of Thrones; and she has learned from the best.

2. *The North Remembers* (series) by K_R_Closson, tasalmalin | BAMF!Sansa - the revenge tastes so sweet - time travel fix-it fic - more action than romance - 3 parts

When Sansa and Theon flee Winterfell, they encounter someone who can give Sansa a chance to start over. Sansa has to determine what she can change and what she has to accept to get a future she wants.

Larry (One Direction)

3. haunted by the ghost of you by @missandrogyny | real estate agent Louis - angst and fluff - memory loss - enemies to friends to lovers - 49k

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

4. I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by @runaway-train-works | enemies to lovers - rough sex - unrequited love - Louis is such a bottom brat - 39k 

The one where Louis is up for a promotion, he just has one tiny, little problem standing in his way.

5. thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by @absoloutenonsense | friends to lovers - heavy mutual pining - misunderstandings - fluff and angst - 52k

Harry’s alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam’s latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis’ financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

6. *What’s It Gonna Be?* by @shesarealphony | GOD TIER FIC - based on this music video - there are lesbians!! - gay found family !! - 35k

Louis and Bebe, best friends since childhood, have crushes on two of the most popular kids in school, and in an attempt to increase their respective chances, Louis befriends Harry Styles, quarterback of the football team, while Bebe befriends Clare Uchima, head cheerleader. Only… the plan… doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Zouis (One Direction) 

7. Gravity Always Wins by @writeivywrite | canon - friends to lovers - ot5 - misunderstandings - 17k

The truth is: if they weren’t in a band together, Zayn wouldn’t be friends with someone like Louis.

8. keep you like an oath by @ohnokonecny | strangers to lovers - Louis is a force of nature - American AU - fake relationship - 18k

Zayn doesn’t recognize the man through the peephole, but he looks harmless enough, so Zayn swings the door open, barely able to get out a greeting before,

“Hello, would you be interested in being my boyfriend?” The stranger asks.

“Uh,” Zayn mumbles, looking between the man and the space behind him, waiting for someone to jump out at him and tell him what’s going on. No one does. And the stranger is still grinning at him, blue eyes shining and teeth on full display as he waits. “Who are you?” Zayn finally asks, when the stranger makes no move to give him more information about what’s happening.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

9. hope is the thing with feathers by @shanastoryteller | author wrote Survival is a Talent and you can tell because it’s amazing - first of a series - BAMF!Stiles - alive Hale family - 28k

Then he’s facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There’s Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that’s his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man’s chest so he knows he’s alive, but he’s not waking up.

He shoves away his hood so he can shout, “Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there’s a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!” Nothing, he’s not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they’re having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

There’s a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it’s all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet.

10. Every stumble and each misfire by @everchanginginks | future fic - deputy Siles - BAMF!Stiles - soft Derek - 14k

Stiles hasn’t seen or heard from Derek in ten years. It’s a bit of a surprise to find out about Derek’s return to Beacon Hills through Tinder.

11. Hide Of A Life War by @etharei | BAMF!Stiles - Sheriff finds out - suspense - found family - 26k

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

12. Pale Skin and Fragile Bone by fakinbrilliance | BAMF!Stiles - mates - don’t underestimate the Hale pack - found family - 62k

Stiles asks Derek to teach him self-defense.

13. *Sweet Buns* by @pantstomatch | omega Stiles - misunderstandings - pining - Derek is bad at feelings - 17k

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

14. The Seven Lives of Stiles Stilinski by @glorious-spoon | angst with a happy ending - pining - time travel - hurt/comfort - 25k

Stiles disturbs an abandoned temple and catches the attention of a goddess of time and fate. When he starts time-traveling involuntarily through the past, he’s not sure if she means it as a curse or a lesson–but no matter when he travels to, he always seems to end up at Derek’s side.

7. *I know that you love me, even when I lose my head* by LunaCapisLupus_22 | amnesia - internalized homophobia - omega Stiles - BAMF!Stiles - 135k

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

15. Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill | SO much angst with a happy ending - slow burn - BAMF!Stiles - PTSD - 70k

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

16. *Not Your Disney Romance* by Rawren (Deshonanana) | THIS IS SO GOOD - the perfect mix of crack and angst - disabled Stiles - mind control - 42k

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

17. Landfall by round_robin | merman Jaskier - soft Geralt - future fic - trust porn - 10k

Geralt spotted Jaskier’s blue breeches neatly folded in the sand by the rock, his boots next to them, doublet unbuttoned and blowing in the wind. Those too blue eyes looked even brighter next to the sea and his heart skipped a beat. “Jaskier,” he sighed. He didn’t know what else to say.

While relief flooded Geralt—Jaskier was alive and well, no evil befell him after Geralt stupidly pushed him away—Jaskier didn’t seem to share his feelings. His lips turned down, shoulders slumped. Finally, he said, “Are you here to kill me?”

18. ‘My Own’ by @valleyofwitcher | creature Jaskier - found family - Kaer Morhen - they’re soft for each other -  43k

Jaskier has been hiding his draconic ‘heritage’ for as long as he could remember. And travelling with Geralt and Ciri, it didn’t seem to be an issue. That is until a notice comes up about hunting dragons.

All of a sudden, everything is thrown into disarray as he has to face feelings and impulses he had been suppressing for years, nothing seems safe anymore. Geralt tries to fix it.

[shortredselfships]

Is That a Threat?

Warning: There is implied child abuse, hints of violence, and suicidal/negative thoughts/ideation so if it ain't your thing, don't read it!

Nothing seemed to be going right for Mehra and if she were back home, there is no doubt her parents or her employer would call her something harsh. Maybe hit her for being so clumsy and stupid. And she would have deserved it.

First she had overslept, leaving Nader- no Nardel (she still thinks it's a stupid name and people are just biding their time, there is no way in hell they are this stupid, Claude-)- to handle inventory reports given by houses Ordelia, Edmund, Daphnel, Albrecht and a few others she couldn't think of at the moment. In being late to do that, she would have to make it up to him. Not only that, but Nebula missed out on his lunch and bonding time with her since she was unable to get him enough time in the forests to hunt because that's when the Immortal Corps did flight runs and they don't need a hungry white wyvern distracting them. Fortunately, Claude handled that, according to Nardel.

To make matters worse, she tripped grabbing materials for the next Alliance roundtable, getting some very precious books scuffed in the process.

Useless girl like you is better off dead, she could hear someone say. At twenty-one years old, this level of forgetfulness was simply unacceptable, especially with the war going on. One misstep and the Empire could be knocking on their door any minute.

The whole point of her leaving Almyra to help Claude was so that he wouldn't be so stressed doing it all on his own, not make his job worse.

"Maera?" Nardel's voice cut through the angry tide her thoughts had become, and she held the now slightly damaged books closer to her chest. "Master Claude wants to see you."

"Oh. Did he say why?"

"No idea. I can take those-"

"No, no, let me. You've done enough for me for today." Nardel gave her a look of concern before going on to continue with his day.

Claude was hidden beneath stacks of books, making her wonder if her hunch was wrong. "Claude?"

"Yes?" Oh. There was a tone to that. He's probably in a very bad mood. "Maera?" His head looked small peeking out from all the work and if she didn't think he was angry with her, she'd laugh at the imagery. Talk about being buried under paperwork. "I see Nardel managed to find you. And you got those books I asked for?"

"Mhmm."

"Just put them on that end table to your left." He doesn't sound as irritated as when she first stepped in the office, but it was common for authority to mask their irritation long enough for their target to get close. Claude may be one of her best friends, but he was still her former house leader, now her duke and prince. If he wanted to punish her for any little misstep, he was well within his right to do so, crest or no crest. "And can you make sure the door is locked?"

He's going to hurt me. He's going to beat me senseless for all my blunders today and toss me out by my hair, then beat me again when he sees the state those books are in. Where is my dagger? No wait-

"Earth to Maera?" Maera didn't mean to jump like she did, nor flinch, but she did, and now she has another thing to envision her beating herself for. Claude's expression softened. "Is everything ok? You've been acting weird all day."

"I am weird. Your point?" Whatever softness was there disappeared quickly as his gaze hardened. He didn't look like a tired, overworked twenty-one year old even if the dark circles and scruff said otherwise.

"Weird is preferring Derdriu's Mystery Seafood Boil over fried pheasant. Weird is thinking plain lip balm tastes good. Weird is brushing your teeth immediately before eating breakfast." He grips her shoulders, and it hurts. It hurts and it takes more strength not to react than it would to push him off. Not that she should or could in the rare moment he got like this. But it wasn't towards her before. "What isn't weird, is saying you deserve to die because you're having an off day!" How did he even know she was thinking that?

"Claude, I am twenty-one years old, not twelve. These are rookie mistakes and those can cost us! I don't want my forgetfulness to launch us further into a war you aren't ready for! I came to help you, not make things worse!" Now he was shaking her.

"I- Are you insane?! We've had this discussion before!" Ah yes, when he threatened to kiss her for insulting herself back during their Academy days, then making good on that threat about a year ago. "You're not expendable, you know!" She should, but she doesn't think she matters unless she is being useful. Sleeping in is to be useless. Forgetting to feed the wyvern you both are raising is to be useless.

"..." There were no words to said, but Claude's grip was starting to really hurt, and she can feel her fingers getting tingly and weak. Before she can comment, his grip loosens and he runs a hand through his hair. "Cla-Kha-..." There is so much she wants to tell him but the boulder in her throat makes it impossible to speak.

"You have got to stop thinking this way or-" Maera's sarcasm couldn't be held back anymore.

"What, you'll kiss me again?"

"No, worse: I'll marry you!" Maera stared at him in utter disbelief. If he was serious about marrying her, that seemed less like a punishment and more of a twisted reward. Unless he meant he wanted to have sex with her until those bad thoughts went away. Which still seemed more like an reward than punishment.

"That seems like an excuse to kiss me, anyway! You might as well become my boyfriend if that's the case!"

"But I don't-"

"Oh, so now you don't want to take responsibility for what you just said?" She's teasing now. "Claude von Reigan, you scoundrel." What looked to be another retort morphed into a sly smile.

"Ahh, no, you're trying to get me. I'm onto you." He does reach out and pull her into a hug. "But seriously though, please don't do that again. Teach would hate it if you didn't make it.." And many others. Maera returns the hug, but now her cheeks are tear-stained.

"I know. I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'll try to do better." After a beat, she looks up at Claude, but she can't see his face.

"Please don't make me think of a life without you in it. Please..."

[lululawrence]

Hi there! Different anon here but I’d also love some tomlinshaw recommendations, preferably bottom Louis? Hope you have a great day 🥰

hello there, friend! i have lots of recs for you! i’ll be honest, though, i don’t really pay much attention to who tops or bottoms in smut, so while i do think a large number i’ve read are bottom louis, i can’t guarantee they all are. they are good, though! hehe

firstly, i’ve apparently written 10 tomlinshaw fics, so here’s a link to my 10, but my favorite is:

You Don't Care About Me (One More Night) (60k, NR, canon compliant, slow burn, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, sexuality crisis, coming out, secret relationship, happy ending)

okay now for the rest! so. when i looked at my bookmarks i have 81 tomlinshaw fics bookmarked lmaooooo so yes, i love them hahaha what i’m gonna do is rec the ones i’ve read most recently and hope they fit the bill, but i’ll also link my bookmarks at the bottom so you can check out what more i’ve got there if you feel so inclined!

Something Like a Masterpiece by Hllangel (4k, T, hurt/comfort, canon compliant, secret relationship)

when the air ran out and we both started running wild by @bigbrotherlouis / darlingjustdont (47k, M, werewolves, alpha Louis, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending)

you and me, baby by checkthemargins (11k, E, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, enemies to lovers, stranded together)

light my heart up baby like a matchstick by estrella30 (9k, M, DJ Nick, Intern Louis, enemies to lovers, idiots flirting, banter)

Knead You Now by @writsgrimmyblog / Writcraft (11k, E, neighbors, bets and wagers, bi louis, friends to lovers, bets and wagers)

ain't no stopping your plans by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (4k, M, part 2 of tomlinshaw, canon compilant, established relationship, banter)

walk, walk fashion baby by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (24k, E, journalist Louis, DJ Nick, fluff, established relationship, so much emotionality)

burning our pretty little hearts by anonymous (5k, E, soulmates, meet-ugly, so many feelings)

Brighter This Time by anonymous (5k, M, university, falling in love, hurt/comfort)

Can't Forget You by @writsgrimmyblog / Writcraft (13k, E, amnesia, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, injury recovery)

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by WeAreTheLuckyOnes (10k, E, friends with benefits to boyfriends, grief/mourning, radio show host Nick, publisher’s assistant Louis)

To Fall Down At Your Door by @magicalrocketships / sunsetmog (9k, T, canon compliant (i think?), charity, accidental marriage, secret marriage, getting together, coming out)

Kind of Tough to Tell a Scruff (Stand and Deliver) by @magicalrocketships / sunsetmog (5k, M, neighbors, sexuality crisis, first time, getting together)

A Reckless Hallelujah by @magicalrocketships​ / sunsetmog (2k, T, ballet, enemies to lovers, banter)

That's My Thing by @uhohmorshedios / yeah_alright (2k, E, established relationship, banter, roleplay)

The Million Reasons Why by @reminiscingintherain / reminiscingintherain (4k, T, secret relationship, footballer Louis, DJ Nick, surprise engagement, coming out)

Leo season by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (5k, NR, famous/non-famous, singer Louis, non-famous Nick, disaster gay Nick, astrology, flirting, banter)

okay so that’s a good start. lollll i hope there’s some in there you haven’t read before that you love! don’t forget to leave kudos and nice comments for the authors!!

[jay-and-dean]

Rescue You  Chapter 12 : December 5

Dean x reader

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Chapter warning : Smut, fluff, violence, swearing, death ?

Words : 3 k

Author note : There will be 14 chapters, the schedule of the editing is added in the Masterlist. If everything goes as planned, I will stick to that schedule.

***Rescue You Masterlist***

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

December 5, 10am

             My fingers find this place I love so much, on his stomach, where his skin forms straight folds around his bellybutton when he’s sitting. It’s so soft there. I dig my index in his lower stomach, making him contract his abs, then do it again.

“What are you doing ?” he asks, his hand still in my hair.

I don’t answer and put a kiss just above his navel, my head still resting here. I smile when I find a freckle I didn’t know yet and blow on the blond peach fuzz.

           This moment could be perfect. It could, if there wasn’t horrors in my head. Screams and burning skin smell, guilt and fear. If I wasn’t craving for him, locked with the man I love and desire, unable to make love.

           Dean’s phone rings and I feel the muscles of his body move under me when he stretches his arm to reach it.

“Yeah Sammy ?”

“Hi Dean, how is Y/n ?” I hear his brother answer because of the silence around.

“Smart, beautiful, half naked” Dean answers, making Sam and me chuckle.

“Yeah… right” Sammy says with an audible smile. “I need some of her blood and she has to whisper an incantation, after that, the spell is ready.”

I move and put my chin on Dean’s chest to see him. He raises an eyebrow at me and I nod.

“Okay” my boyfriend says.

“Great, Rowena and I will come to the cabin to get the blood and teach her the incantation, do you need something ?”

“Chocolate” I murmur.

“Yeah, chocolate, pie and beer” Dean orders, pushing a strand of my hair out of my face.

“Of course… Just, try to wear clothes when we show up.”

He hangs up and puts the phone down, then wiggles to lay more, going down on the bed. My chin finds itself close to his tattoo.

“Hi there” he whispers.

“Hi baby” I say, gently moving my head so my lips caress his chest.

“How is it right now ?” he asks.

“Deafening” I sigh. “The voices are telling me that if I eat your heart with an incantation, I could get your physical strength…”

We promised to tell each other everything, so I do. He grimaces.

“Well tell them my heart must be rubbery” he answers, trying to joke as usual.

I crawl a little higher and catch his lips, trying to enjoy him without arousing him. But, as usual, he can’t help but grab my butt through my panties and the covers. He hums and deepens the kiss, one hand grabbing my neck.

           The effect is instantaneous : his breath fasten and his hips jerk up. His nails digging on my ass cheek, he holds back a groan that fades in his throat.

“Dean…” I break the kiss. “We can’t…”

He lets go of me and sighs.

“I know, I’m sorry. You just…” his thumb strokes my lower lip. “You have an effect on me.”

His erection pokes my thigh and I feel slick wet my folds. I want him so bad. He lets his head fall on the pillow and look at the ceiling, his index and thumb playing with a strand of my messy hair.

           I look at his Adam’s apple and at the scruff on his jaw. My nipples harden under the oversized t-shirt he gave me.

“Baby ?” I call with a little smile.

He looks down at me and frowns at my impish look.

           I get up suddenly and he grunts. From where I am, I can see the tent on the cover. I can touch him, I have proven that this is possible ; but my love can’t keep his hands off of me, and that’s a problem, because obviously pleasure makes my guard go down…

           Searching the cabin, I bite my lip.

“What are you doing ?” he asks and I find what I was looking for.

“Close your eyes baby” I say before I turn to him.

“Why ?”

“Dean, close your eyes. You trust me ?” I insist.

“Well I think if you had wanted to kill me, you would have done it a long time ago” he chuckles. “Eyes closed Y/n.”

           I take the ropes and walk back to the bed, straddling him cautiously not to touch his crotch, I coil the rope against the wooden bars of the bed.

“Mh… I don’t think it’s a good idea Y/n” he says, his eyes still closed, probably thinking I have plans to ride him.

“Don’t open your eyes, give me your hands” I say, admiring him.

He doesn’t say anything else, giving me his beautiful hands, I kiss them both and put them above his head. When he feels the ropes against his wrists, his eyes open wide, and his pupils dilate.

“Hey kinky baby, what are you doing ? You know we are in sex probation…”

“Yeah but the real problem is, you can’t resist me” I grin, tightening the ropes so much he hisses.

“Guilty.”

I bend to kiss him, and realize this is a bad idea… What if I had a crisis, he would be tied up and defenseless. What if I forgot and, too turn on, I wanted more ?

You will hurt him.

           I shake those ideas out of my brain by bending to kiss his jaw, his collarbones, his tattoo.

“Y/n…” he moans, his hips jerking up again.

“Relax Dean” I smile to hide my doubts.

           When I reach his sweatpants, I kiss him just above the belt and hear the bed crack, he’s already fighting against the ropes. The idea of my wolf trusting me with his precious body arouses me, and by the time I kiss his length through the fabric, opening my mouth wide to take him gently between my teeth, my panties are ruined.

“Don’t tease me baby… I really can’t take it right now” he pants, making me smile.

I take his pants off slowly, discovering he is not wearing underwear.

           His cock springs free and I immediately grab it to put open-mouth kisses from the base to the top.

“Oh F-fffuck…” he gasps, his beautiful face disappearing between his elbows.

           I won’t lose time, or it will be impossible for me to resist. Making him come hard and fast is the goal.

           I lick my lips to wet them and let my tongue sloppily soak the head of his cock. When I take him in my mouth, I realize he’s way too big for me to go very deep.

Eat him entirely.

I swallow around him but saliva drips on his balls anyway, starting to move my head up and down, I scratch his stomach.

“Y/n…” he moans, his voice an inch higher than usual, and he tugs hard at the rope. “Y/n… Fuck !”

           My hips roll, searching for friction but I focus to stop them. One of my hand holds him, stroking what my mouth can’t reach, the other goes down to his balls.

“Rah !” he cries out. “Baby… You… Damn !”

           My love is a man that says a lot with his touches, but unable to use his hands, he becomes loud, like he was trying to caress me with his words. I love that a little too much. The wooden bed is cracking, ropes barely able to hold back my wolf.

           He is beautiful, his chest reddening, his strong arms fighting against the ropes with visible strength, his hips resisting the urge to thrust up and his thighs contracting. He tries to look at me but his head falls back between his elbows, his back arching a little.

           I want to give him more so I push down, and a sharp pain hits my throat, but I manage to suppress my gag reflex. I did that only once, with Aiden, but he’s not that big.

“Son of a bitch !” Dean gasps, apparently surprised, and it encourages me.

Going even lower, I take him almost completely before choking a little. Letting go, I take a deep inhale and lick his cock, before starting to suck again, moaning around him.

“Baby…” he pants. “Baby, I’m…”

           Closing my eyes, I sink again, opening my throat to him and, suddenly, a loud cracking noise shakes the room. His hands, still tied up together, grab my hair and my eyes roll when he hits deeper than anything ever did. Tears falls off the corner of my eyes and his cock throbs hard.

           He tugs at my hair slightly, like he was trying to make me let go but I only go up until his head is still on my mouth, swallowing hard. In a shaking gasp, he comes. Ropes of hot salty cum fill my mouth in twitches of his cock and low growls in his chest.

 December 5, 2:27pm

             Sam’s right eyebrow raises when he enters, his glare immediately noticing the broken bars of the bed and the ropes next to it. He shakes his head like he wanted to chase an image off of it, and puts the bags on the table, but his eyes fall on Dean’s bruised wrists and he clears his throat.

           We did manage to let things there, not triggering a powers-crisis, but I had to wipe in the bathroom, completely soaked and shaking. Keeping my fingers away from my clit when I changed panties was a struggle, but the voices were still raging, so I had to fight. And Dean had so many love words he drowned the anger storm in it.

“If you forgot pie…” my boyfriend starts but his brother cuts him.

“I didn’t.”

“Where is Rowena ?” I ask, emptying the bags to give Dean the pie and find the chocolate.

“Yeah… She…” Sam hesitates and I look at him. “She didn’t come. She’s… kinda afraid of you, I mean, of this powers.”

I sigh and sit, putting my head in my hands.

“She’s right” I whisper but feel my lover’s hand on my back.

“She’s not. You’re the person I trust the most, screw her” Dean grunts.

“We don’t need her anyway” Sam states, clearing his throat again at his brother’s word. “She gave me everything. Y/n, we just need anyone of your Community, Coven or not, and you will be free.

“Yeah… But who” I think out loud, taking the piece of pie Dean gives me.

“That’s the problem, this community has always been really good at hiding” Sam sighs. “According to my sources, other hunters have killed some of the running witches, I’m not sure there is a lot left in the area…”

Dean takes a big bite of pie and hums, like he wasn’t worried at all, even if I know his brain is going a thousand miles.

           Sam’s phone rings and he frowns before answering.

“Aiden” he says to us and Dean puts is fork. “Yes Aiden ? … What ! … Okay, go hide in the dungeon and don’t make a sound… I’m on my way.”

“What is it” my boyfriend asks, getting up.

“Witches found the bunker, Aiden hid but he says they’re searching everywhere” Sam answers, taking his car keys in his hands.

“We come with you” Dean states, leaving everything on the table.

Sam opens his mouth to say something but Dean cuts him.

“Witches, Sam, if we can get one, we can fix Y/n.”

 December 5, 10pm

             Sam turns off the car lights and parks outside of the garage. The second the car is still, Dean jumps out of it and opens the trunk.

“Witch killing bullet, Y/n, don’t be afraid to use it” he states sternly, giving me a heavy gun and silently showing me how to use it. “The bitches don’t have powers anymore, but don’t let them get close to you.”

“They might have left” Sam frowns. “Seeing we were not here.”

“I don’t think so, I say they’ll be prepared and wait for us, be careful” my boyfriend puts a light kiss on my temple and his back straightens.

He’s in hunter position, and he’s beautiful. Sam gives me the little piece of paper where he wrote the words for the incantation. He made me repeat it a few times in the car, so I learned it by heart, but I take it anyway.

“Remember, I prepared the spell, mixed all the ingredients already, I put it in an empty bottle of whiskey to hide it, you remember where ?” Sam says and I nod. “Only your blood is missing.”

I take a deep breath and remember what he explained in the car.

“At least they aren’t aware we know they’re here…” I state in a sigh, looking at Dean to give me courage.

           Aiden never called back, and Sam didn’t call him, to avoid making his phone ring. He must be dead now, no way they didn’t find him ; I just wish I had a chance to say goodbye.

             Dean pushes the front door open slowly. Everything is quiet. He silently points the right and Sam nods, going down the stairs stealthily. Once in the library, Sam points the bottle to me, and Dean grabs my hand to keep me close to him. He looks like an action movie hero, his gun in his hand, his footsteps mortally quiet, his whole body on alert.

           Suddenly, a shotgun sound echoes and I jump, clinging to Dean in reflex. Sam comes running and I lift my gun in shaking hands.

“Dean” Sam calls and a bullet blows up something behind him.

           My love grunts and I turn to him, blood is soaking his jeans.

“Oh my God baby !” I can’t help but gasp.

He pushes his jacket in a growl and discovers a bullet wound on his lower stomach.

“No no no no no… baby…” I whine trying to touch him but he stops me, hushing me.

“Y/n !” a voice calls me and I lift my eyes.

           I can’t believe it, it’s Ophelia, the woman who hurt Dean in the first place. She is just there, pointing a gun at Dean. The rage inside me is making me dizzy, but I can’t let it blow, because I’m not sure I wouldn’t hurt my love.

“Step back from him” she orders.

“No way” Dean groans but I move back anyway.

“Ophelia… I’m the one you want” I try but she laughs.

“I want him dead as much as I want you dead. Killing you is impossible for now, but I can kill him. Give me those powers, and I will just go.”

“Yes” I say, lifting my hands in surrender. “But only if Sam and Dean are safe.”

“Whatever” she shrugs. “They won’t be a threat anymore anyway.”

           Ophelia was never the sharpest tool in the box, and I’m pretty sure she’s not alone in this. Walking to the bottle, I stay on my guard. I walk pass Sam ; he’s saying nothing and not moving, probably seeing an opportunity there. Dean falls on one knee and my heart breaks. Not again, not him.

Be strong my wolf, I will heal you…

“You” a familiar voice says to Sam. “Move next to your brother.”

My sister. I stare at her with my broken heart in my eyes and my mother joins her. Both pointing their guns at the brothers, they don’t say a word, and barely look at me.

“I shouldn’t have left you live” I groan, my blood boiling.

“I just want my daughter back” my mom whines and a tear of hate falls on my cheek.

           The power is raging, I have to hurry or this place, my lover’s home, will burn to aches. I take the bottle of whiskey and open it, putting the gun down next to me I grab the little knife Dean made me hide in my belt, an cut my arm, cautiously pouring my blood in the bottle.

           Everyone is looking at me. I empty the bottle at my feet, making sure I’m in the middle of it. The liquid turns to black sand.

           Ophelia doesn’t know the last step is commanding her name like when I took the powers, I will use her ignorance to fool her, and only say it once she freed my wolf. The bitch is dead.

           My hair starts to float in the air again and the voices yell. I clear my throat and whisper the incantation. The powers fight back and the voices are like a million people calling me. Every inch of my body hurts again. The lights flicker and my skin starts glowing like lava again. Pain is killing me.

But suddenly… It stops. My hair fall back on my shoulders lazily, the burning fades, the voices die and the pain vanishes. The sand takes fire and disappears.

“And ?” Ophelia calls. “Is that it ?”

“Yes” I nod.

“I don’t feel anything” she groans.

“Oh believe me you will, idiot ! Why do you think I wanted to get rid of it ?” I smile exaggeratedly. “At first it is okay, but the pain is unbearable after the third day” I bluff.

“Kill him” she says with a smile and my heart stops.

           Before I can move my eyes toward him, my mother pushes the trigger and Dean falls back, a bullet in his chest. I can’t scream, my heart in the back of my throat.

Aiden appears behind him, alive, walking freely.

“Y/n…” he tries to look sorry. “You don’t have your powers anymore, you are free…”

Him.

I am sure now, how could I not see it coming… He is the one that let the witches enter. He wants me back so bad. He used them to get me inoffensive again, promising them the powers, at the condition Dean dies…

           I look down at the man I love struggling to breathe, but no rage, no storm can be unleashed to save him now, my powers are already too far gone, I feel them in the air.

Dean coughs and I pant in panic.

Sam holds Dean. I take my gun back in my hand.

           I a split second, I see everything : Ophelia trying to make the gun move with her hand, the surprise on her face when she can’t, the pained look on my wolf’s face.

I point my gun at Aiden, my finger on the trigger.

“Aiden Powell” I state and a blinding light hits him violently, making him stumble.

Boom.

__________________________________

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Tags are open (Some tags don’t work even if I tried everything, I’m sorry)

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Stressed Out

Authors Note:

This was a request from w e e k s a g o that I forgot to post! It's my first time writing for Thor so please let me know how you feel about it.

Summary: Reader is stressed out with work, will Thor be able to help?

"GOD DAMN IT", I cried dramatically as my computer crashed once more. 

I'd been working on my paperwork for seemingly forever (although it had probably only been a few hours), and the stress I was currently feeling was almost unbearable at this point. The team had been working overtime lately with several long missions, and subsequently I'd been pulled from the lab to help with the excess reports. Now normally I didn't mind helping out-- although I much preferred to hide away in the labs with Bruce or Tony-- but the sheer amount of work that had been piling up was completely overwhelming. The team was so swamped with work that they hadn't had the time, energy, or headspace to make any headway on their reports, and taking on the responsibility for the 8 of them was too much for just one person. 

The amount of professional strain was only compounded by my own personal stress. To say I was short on sleep was the understatement of the century. A certain blonde god had been one of the agents called away on a weeks-long mission, and the absence of his strong frame in my bed coupled with the anxiety I felt whenever he was gone for longer than a few days was enough to keep me tossing and turning all night. I knew that Thor could certainly handle himself in the field, but that fact did little to ease the tight ball of fear and unease that settled deep in my belly whenever he was away. Mixed with the fear was the unsettling feeling of loneliness. Thor was the definition of an extrovert, and though I was relatively introverted I always missed his outgoing presence. I'd grown so accustomed to having him around that his absence left a gaping hole in my life.

As my computer screen went dark and began flashing the startup code for the 3rd time tonight I felt hot tears begin to sting and collect in my eyelids. I'd been working on one of Sam's reports for at least an hour now, and each time I was nearly finished my computer decided to abruptly shut down. And thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols none of the work could be auto-saved. I slammed my fists down several times on my desk in frustration so hard that my knuckles began to throb in pain. Frustration giving way to utter hopelessness, I gave up completely and placed my head in my arms face down on my desk. 

"What did that poor desk do to earn such wrath Lady Y/N?", I heard a low rumbling voice question from above me. My head snapped up immediately at the sound, tears that had collected before instantly beginning to fall as I took in the sight in front of me. 

Thor towered over the mess that was my desk with his trademark 1000 watt smile on full display. His clothes were dirty, parts of them ripped or torn. He didn't appear to have many injuries, but there was the tell-tale signs of old dried blood mingling with the patches of torn clothing. The way he stood above my small frame caught the dull fluorescent light just above his head just right, creating a halo-like effect and making the enormous god look even more ethereal than he normally did. Evidently the mission had ended early, and even from first glance I could tell he'd come to my office straight after. 

My stomach erupted in butterflies, and I immediately jumped to my feet and threw myself into his strong arms. He wrapped his arms around my body instantly, strong hold calming me in seconds. I felt his firm chest vibrate gently beneath my cheek as he chuckled before his smooth lips met the crown of my head. 

"Shall I assume I was missed in my absence then?", he questioned lightly, his scruff tickling me with each word.

Though his tone was playful, the simple question brought all the anxiety and frustration I'd been feeling for the previous few weeks bursting up to the surface. I felt the uncomfortable sensation of tears gathering in my eyes, threatening to fall and the distinct burn in the back of my throat that indicated more would soon be following. I buried my head further into his chest in a vain effort to hide my reaction, but realized quickly that he would likely soon feel the wetness seeping through his shirt if my tears did somehow start to fall. Frustration shifting quickly to panic I tore myself from Thor’s embrace and quickly spun around towards the far wall of my office. 

“Y/N?”, I heard Thor ask from behind me, his tone laced with confusion. Desperately trying to stop the stubborn flow of tears from seeping from my eyes I tilted my head up and backwards. Though the action did little to halt the impending stream, it did alert me to his close proximity. His firm chest pressed gently into my back, large hands instantly finding their way to the tops of my arms and lightly stroking the skin. I shivered unintentionally, but stubbornly remained turned away from the face I’d been missing for far too long.

 Evidently, Thor was having none of this; his fingers’ soft dance across my skin abruptly halted and I felt his palms flatten as they gripped my body gently and turned me to face him. Panic blossoming once more, I tucked my chin into my chest tightly and cast my gaze down to my shoes. Huffing slightly, Thor’s fingers left my body to softly rest under my chin and attempt to raise my head. 

“Y/N”, his deep voice pleaded gently. As his fingers delicately pressed upwards on my bowed head I resisted, and though he could have easily overpowered me in that moment he dropped his hand at once. It was something I always loved and admired about him (among the plethora of other reasons); though his strength was unmatched by nearly any other being, he never used it to manipulate me or make me do something I didn’t want. Thor made me feel safe in every way humanly possible, and the simple action did little to stop the flow of tears threatening to fall from my eyes. Thor’s arms flew to my back and sides in a comforting embrace.

“My love, how am I to help you if you won’t even look me in the eyes?”, he rationalized, hands rubbing down my back and sides soothingly.  

Embarrassment and guilt ate away at my insides as I realized how childish I was being. I cast my gaze upwards to meet the crystal blue eyes that I had missed so dearly. Thor’s expression was one of pure concern; his thick brows were furrowed downwards, small wrinkle forming in between the smooth skin of his forehead, mouth set in a sort of pained grimace and normally clear blue irises dark and swirling with worry. 

It took only moments after I dared look upwards at the god I was unbelievably able to call my own before my resolve and embarrassment completely gave way.The dam that had been building up for weeks finally burst, and eager tears were freed from my lids at a rapid pace. I gasped, a choking sob racking my entire body as I thrust my body into Thor’s harshly, suddenly needing to feel his skin pressed up against mine as much as possible. He reacted in kind,  grip around my body tightening and lips tickling the shell of my ear with softly whispered words of comfort and encouragement. I relished in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, the way his hands were caressing any and all available skin on my body in a soothing way that was uniquely his. Looking at the tall, muscular god you could never expect the wholly tender way that his broad hands could feel; he looked as if his grip would only bring hurt, but I’d only ever felt gentle, loving touches from him. And gods did his embrace feel good. 

“It’s alright my dear, everything can’t be as bad as it seems”, he cooed softly against my head. “Now can you speak enough to tell me what has my love so upset?”. 

I sniffled loudly (and rather unattractively) and rubbed my nose against the muscular chest that laid against my cheek. I mumbled loudly in protest, nuzzling deeper into Thor’s arms. He chuckled lightly, the vibrations running through my face and tickling my nose. 

“Come now, how will I know whom to maim if you don’t tell me who’s hurt you?”, he asked. Though on the surface his tone was light I could instantly tell that he was deadly serious about maiming someone on my behalf. It wasn’t the first time he’d suggested doing so, and I had serious suspicions that it wouldn’t be the last time either. I chuckled lightly, hoping to diffuse the anger and concern currently threatening to overtake Thor at the moment. 

“Though it’s tempting at the moment, I’d prefer to stay as un-maimed as possible. Plus, my boyfriend seems to be pretty fond of my face and I’m sure he could kick your ass”, I joked lightly, arms still wrapped around Thor’s body tightly and my chin resting on his chest as I looked up at the tall blonde god. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. 

“But, I am your boyfriend?”, he questioned adorably. I chuckled once more and waited for a few moments as he processed what I’d meant. Slowly but surely his features shifted from concerned confusion, to pure concern, and back to confusion as he attempted to work out my statement. 

“My love, I’m not sure what you mean”, he frowned. I giggled lightly at his adorably puzzled expression. 

“No one’s hurt me Thor, I promise”, I stated softly. “I’ve just been feeling stressed lately; work has been insane, my computer is being an asshole, and I’ve just really been missing you”. 

His face softened immediately, thick brows relaxing and eyes shining with empathy. 

“Oh my love,'' he sighed, tucking me deeper into his chest and rocking us gently back and forth. I merely hummed in response, feeling somehow content and embarrassed all at once. 

“Would it help if I told you how much I missed you whilst I was away?”, he murmured. “I think that Stark and Wilson may have considered fighting me towards the end of the mission due to all my incessant whining”. 

I chuckled lightly, arms squeezing his tall frame briefly. 

“It helps a little”, I offered shyly. I could feel the way his face broke out in a grin against my hair and he squeezed me lightly in return. 

“Well it’s true. I longed for this exact moment since the minute we left; I imagined the way you feel in my arms, the intoxicating scent of your hair, and the sound of your sweet voice each night before I slept”, he continued softly. 

My heart warmed palpably at his admission, butterflies swirling in my belly. It was comforting to know he'd missed me as well, though I was certain there was no way he'd missed me as much as I'd missed him. 

"Is it fair to assume you haven't been sleeping well my love?", he questioned gently. I sighed loudly. 

"More than fair", I mumbled against his chest. "You know I hate sleeping alone". 

"Mmmmmm", he hummed lowly. "As much as I'd like to spend some time hearing all about your weeks past without me, I think we ought to head to your bed and get you some sleep". 

As he spoke, I felt my eyelids begin to droop and my brain become fuzzy. All the anxiety and unrest of the past week combined with the panic and relief of being reunited with Thor had left me realizing just how tired I really was. Suddenly, I found myself fighting the urge to drop dead with sleep and I yawned before stubbornly shaking my head. 

"No, I'm fine", I muttered faintly. "I want to see you..haven't seen you in...too long..".

Thor chuckled heartily, chest shaking beneath my face. I was so caught up in the sound that I'd been longing for that I barely noticed his arms snaking underneath my knees. Swiftly, he gathered me up with ease, cradling me like a child in his arms. Too tired to argue back, I simply nestled my head into the crook of his neck and closed my heavy eyelids. 

"It's alright my little love. You require sleep, and you can rest assured I will be by your side once you wake". 

Thor's soft lips tickled the shell of my ear as he spoke, and yet it sounded somehow that his deep baritone was miles away from me. I felt swaying, and vaguely acknowledged that he must be taking me to the comfort of our shared bed.

"Promise?", I murmured, voice so soft that it was probably inaudible. 

"I promise my love", I faintly heard his reply. "Now, and each night for the rest of our lives". 

[darling-i-fancy-you]

A Brief Moment - Romione Fanfic

Author Note: Wow, I haven’t written Romione fanfiction for about 7 years. Since then I have finished High School, and College and graduated University. But for some reason I have just had the bug for some writing recently, I mean I haven’t written anything in almost a year or maybe even two so what better way that jump back in with some writing for my first ever ship! Not Beta Read or even really proof read as I’ve written this for myself more than anyone else - I don’t even think I have any or many Romione fans who read my blog!

Anyway a bit of a pre-fix for this fic, this is in the realm of ‘What If That Kiss Never Happened?’ And Hermione goes off to Hogwarts and the two idiots continue to pine for each other and it gets on Harry and Ginny’s nerves! 

Enjoy!

The train carriages pushed and pulled around the bends of the Northern landscape, a bushy haired, bright young woman wrought together her hands in nervous anticipation. She gnawed and nibbled on the soft skin of her bottom lip and the swell of the fear of not knowing lay heavily in her chest.

‘Hermione,’ an exasperated young ginger girl sighed, ‘he’s going to be there.’

Ginny placed her head against the cool window pane. Lambs, horses and calfs flew past her in fast blinks as the old steam train picked up speed through the vast green scenery. The two girls were halfway home and for good this time. Their time at Hogwarts had officially ended and this was their last train journey home from the magnificent Scottish castle, a place that they had called a home away from home for so many years. 

‘What?’ Hermione startled at Ginny’s words. 

‘Ron.’ She said, ‘Of course he’s going to be there.’

Hermione huffed in defiance.

‘Gin, I-’ she began, however what the intended end to the sentence was she wasn’t quite sure. 

‘He’ll be waiting for you.’ Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘Like he always is. Why can’t you two just figure it all out?’

Hermione cheeks flushed, she would love to pretend that she had no idea what Ginny was implying but she had to agree that it was getting quite ridiculous. All the pussyfooting around each other during the holidays, the coy looks and shy smiles, the gifts that were almost too meaningful - a personalised diary with her initials embossed in golden script and a Chudley Cannons poster, signed by the whole team, as a favour for the girl who helped to save the Wizarding World. 

‘It’s complicated.’ Hermione said quietly. 

Ginny’s laugh barked from her mouth.

‘Just grab the daft pillock by the scruff of his shirt and give him a good snog, Hermione. I don’t think it’ll be all that complicated after that.’

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the smiling ginger girl. Her face held a familiar mischievous look, like one she had seen on her brother many times before throughout the years. Hermione took in a sharp breath through her nose, rolled her shoulders and straightened her back. 

‘If anything were to happen Gin, then he would have to make the first move.’ She said with finality in her voice. ‘I can’t put myself out there with him again.’

She thought back to the Yule Ball and how she had secretly waited for as long as she could for him to show just a little bit of interest in her. When Victor approached her the week before the ball and asked her to accompany him she could hardly refuse, there was no sign that anyone else was willing to ask her anytime soon. She also thought back to Slughorn’s Party and what a disaster that had turned in to, she just couldn’t face that kind of heartache again.

The summer before Hermione and Ginny came back to Hogwarts, the summer immediately after the war, she had toyed with the idea of making her feelings known to Ron. However, grief took precedence over love and the more time she had to think, the more conclusions and scenarios she drew. 

Perhaps the feelings she had for Ron were simply heightened due to her own grief or the sense of relief she had from surviving the war, or perhaps she only felt this way due to the amount of time they spent together day in and day out. Would she still love him if they didn’t spend every day together like they had done for the past eight years?

The answer was yes. 

Perhaps she loved him even more so than when she left for Hogwarts. The constant ache in her chest every day that she was away from him, a pain that only subsided when in his presence confirmed this. If he was at the train station, waiting for her, surely that had to mean something didn’t it? She needed it to mean something but most of all she needed him to tell her that.

---

‘Mate, what do you think is gonna happen?’ Harry smirked. ‘The train just isn’t going to turn up?’

Ron rolled on the balls of his feet, his hands shoved deep down into his trouser pockets that hid his nails that had been bitten down in nervous worry. A deep flush ran down the back of his neck and behind his ears, he knew he was being ridiculous by straining his neck down the platform in search of a train that he knew was only due to appear in the next fifteen minutes. 

His emotions swirled together in the pit of his stomach, nervous, excited and shitting himself all at once. She was going to be back for good, he could see her everyday if he wanted to - well if she wanted to. 

Would she be happy to see him? 

Or confused? 

Would she even care?

‘Shut up.’ Ron muttered ‘Prat.’

Harry was loving this, he could tell. The smugness rolled from his smile as he watched his best friend shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his neck constantly snapping to the large black clock that counted down the minutes. 

He wasn’t arsed anymore, he knew it was obvious to everyone - the way he looked at her on Christmas morning as they opened presents or how he followed her from room to room at the Burrow for the entire week, just needing to soak up as much time as he could with her over the holidays. He was so hopelessly in love with her that it ached in his heart and consumed him daily. 

‘You going to say something to her?’ Harry asked, a sincerity in his voice.

For all of his teasing over the past few years, he honestly just wanted to knock their heads together and tell them to get a move on. 

‘I don’t know.’ Ron replied honestly. 

It wasn’t the first time Ron had admitted to Harry how he felt, that had come shortly after the girls had left for school, hours after they had waved them off on the old steam train for their final year. He had found Ron sitting at the dining table in Grimmauld Place, his chin resting on his knuckles and his expression blank. 

‘I love her.’ He said as though the realisation had only just dawned on him.

Harry had given him the same sad smile he was giving him now and asked the same question. 

The whistle of the train howled in the distance, Ron inhaled deeply.

---

The train came to a steady stop and at once the carriage aisles filled with the bustle of Hogwarts students of various years, ages and sizes. There was a flurry of voices and laughter, children saying goodbye to their school friends until September rolled around again, solemn Seventh Years bid farewell to the train itself that had taken them to and forth the castle wherein they had spent some of the best and worst times of the young life. 

Hermione and Ginny moved slowly, gathering their trunks from the racking above them for the last time. Each movement was meaningful as they took in their surroundings, feeling nostalgic for a life they had both lived. Hermione wouldn’t deny that she may have also been trying to delay the inevitable. 

He would either be there or he would not. She was finding it almost impossible to contain her emotions, preemptive tears glistened in her eyes as she reached for the sliding carriage door and made her way out into the busy aisle. 

---

It suddenly dawned on Ron how thankful he was for his height as he watched as Harry struggled to crane his neck over the swell of students that had swarmed onto the platform. Ron could easily see above their heads, what he couldn’t see however was the two heads he was looking for, the fiery long hair of sister and his favourite set of chocolate curls that undoubtedly belonged to Hermione Granger. 

‘Where is she, where is she?’ He muttered to himself. 

He started to push through the crowd, he glided easily as though he was wading through water. He wasn’t sure what he would do or say when he saw her, he just hoped that when he saw her he would know. 

‘Ron!’ Harry called from behind him, lost in the crowd of people that were eyeing him with awe and admiration. ‘They’re over there!’

Harry was pointing to the far end of the train, he saw his sister first who was eagerly scanning the crowd in search of The Boy Who Lived. Then there she was, her head bent down slightly and focused more on navigating her trunk down to the train platform. It was only when Ginny grabbed at her arm and pointed in his direction that she looked up.

---

‘There!’ Ginny smiled and darted off into the crowd, abandoning her trunk in favour of reaching her boyfriend.

Looking up Hermione’s watering eyes met with that of smiling - no beaming, Ronald Weasley. She matched his smile and let out a gasp of a laugh. What had she been so worried about, of course he was going to be here, he always would be. 

Hermione joined Ginny in abandoning her trunk and started to make way through the crowd.

---

Ron picked up his pace as he noticed Hermione had started to move in his direction, he pushed aside what had been this year's First Years and ignored the whispers of recognition for who he was. He didn’t care, he couldn’t care. All that mattered right now was that Hermione was making her way to him and he was mad with happiness. 

Once within a couple of feet of each other they stopped, hesitantly.

‘Hi.’ Hermione sighed with relief.

‘Hi.’ Ron echoed.

They both stared at each other, beaming smiles subsiding to something gentler, a look of hope and longing laced with uncertainty and fear of all the things they had never said to each other. 

Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say something but the words wouldn’t come. Ron’s words however, did.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He confessed. ‘More than what’s probably normal to miss someone who-’ 

‘Isn’t your girlfriend.’ Is what he wanted to say but the words fell short and he fell silent. 

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Hermione whispered. ‘A lot.’

The tears that had been gathering in Hermione’s eyes were now dangerously threatening to spill down her cheeks, she was relieved of course that he was here but for some reason the ache in her stomach had only gotten worse. 

At the tears in her eyes a concerned Ron pulled her at her arm and tucked her into a hug.

‘C’mere,’ he whispered into her hair with a slight laugh, ‘you alright? I wasn’t that bad of a surprise to see was I?’ He joked.

Hermione shook her head and buried deeper into his chest, the tears were starting to spill now and she didn’t want anybody seeing her cry on Platform 9 ¾.

‘No,’ came a muffled reply, ‘you were a brilliant surprise.’

She sniffled and pulled her head away from him, quickly pulling up her hands to wipe away the stray tears. Her cheeks were flushed red from the embarrassment of crying in public and the mixture of emotions that swelled through her body.

Ron looked down at her, from this close he could count the freckles that sat on her nose. Her doe like eyes glanced back up at him, the gentle gaze in them sent a hot flush down his neck that he was sure she would be able to see. His tongue swept over his own lips before her name fell from them.

‘’Mione.’ His throat was hoarse all of sudden like everything deep down inside of him had bubbled up and left a knot right in his throat. 

The breath from him saying her name danced over the apples of her cheeks, his face was serious now. An expression she had never really seen on his face before, and it was a face that she had studied relentlessly throughout school, even more so than she had Hogwarts: A History. 

His adam’s apple bobbed tellingly in his throat. 

Word’s just wouldn’t do now, how could eight years of growing friendship and love and sometimes heartache be summed up with any combination of words. 

Ron’s head dipped, slowly and cautiously, as Hermione’s head tilted upwards with that same timid speed. 

And for a moment there was no crowd bustling past them, and there was no steam train whistling or groaning, in fact Platform 9 ¾ ceased to exist altogether for one brief shining moment as their lips touched for the very first time.