#like you can't fault him for wanting to show off and beat his teammate in the end
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george?
free space: putting aside last race when I wished he dnfed too for solidarity for 85% of the race, i do like George, he's alright 👌 glad he ditched the hair gel
#it was just the knee jerk reaction when thing go bad for lewis and good for him#like fan behaviour aside i think he’s a good egg overall trying to navigate being lewis teammate which is not easy task for anyone given#lewis' status#like you can't fault him for wanting to show off and beat his teammate in the end#he's a little messy sometimes but i still like him#fav messy on track terror (stay away from my girl though pls)#game tag#george
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soooo it’s ur biggest fan here 🤣! so idea. chris is a hockey boy. i need something angsty or something
also a fluff idea reader is a dancer and chris is hockey player and reader has a competition the same place chris has a tournament. and it’s just them supporting each other
although just do what ever you want but hockey chris>>> i feel like you’d do him justice
Jealous guy.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.
Author's note: I worked hard on this because it's for my biggest fan. You know I love my angsty shit, so I took your idea and combined it with mine. I hope y'all like it. 🤍 Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Ps. I'm the kind of bitch that gets all giddy and shit when Chris says "my girl" in my OWN FIC. Okay.
Warnings: not really a warning but mentions of fighting and a lil bloody lip. Mwuah. Didn't proofread, sorry!
[ YOU ]
"Okay, and what the hell do you want me to do about it?" I almost scream, turning around to look at Chris.
He was fuming, to say the least. His hair was messy, he didn't have a shirt on but wore his usual gray sweatpants. His glare was deadly.
"Uhm, I don't know, tell him to not send fucking flowers to OUR apartment?!" he shouts, throwing his phone on the couch. The irony in his voice is more than evident.
I couldn't believe it when I saw it either Honestly, I never expected him to go to such lengths. Despite being just a co-worker, he's become a relentless presence in my life. Whether it's showing up everywhere at work, bringing me coffee, or bombarding me with emails – it's relentless. The boundary crossed when he managed to find my address; literally searching for my goddamn address and sending me flowers? That is wild. Of course I told Chris about it, but he acts as if it is my fault this psycho found our address.
"I don't even know his phone number, Chris! How would I ever know that he'd search for the address and send me flowers?" I sigh, still very angry.
"I'll beat the shit out of him, I swear.. the game starts in less than an hour, fucking hell.." he says, checking his watch, "how the fuck am I ever going to play when I'm like this?"
I don't reply to him – he really makes it sound like it's my fault and despite my initial enthusiasm for the game, it's waned due to his blame game. Still, I don't want to come off as a heartless bitch, especially on the eve of his crucial match. So, I grab my phone, wallet, and keys before heading over to him.
"I really hope you win." I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek before exiting the bedroom and shortly after, leaving the apartment.
[ CHRIS ]
She left. Fucking hell. I always do bullshit like this – I can't keep my big mouth shut and now she's not even coming to the game. I really needed her in this one. But that is my own fault.
In the quiet solitude of our apartment, I try to prepare for the upcoming game; amidst the dim glow of our living room, I meticulously don my team jersey, each movement an attempt to shift my focus. Taking a moment, I inhale deeply, trying to be as calm as possible before the game.
With a determined resolve, I grab my gear, the familiar scent of the hockey bag triggering a surge of adrenaline. As I step outside, the crisp evening air hits me, momentarily clearing my mind. The journey to the rink is a silent contemplation, the distant echoes of the city fading as I immerse myself in mental preparation.
Arriving at the arena, I feel the familiar anticipation. The ambient sounds of the crowd and distant echoes of skates on the ice envelop me, grounding me in the moment. I exchange nods and greetings with teammates. The locker room door creaks open, revealing the sanctum where emotions are set aside, and the game becomes paramount. Amidst the hum of chatter and the clatter of equipment, I sigh; I really want her to come. I still have hope, although I doubt it. The tension lingers as I tighten my skate laces, and Jake, my teammate and friend, notices my distraction.
"You seem off, Chris. Everything okay?" Jake asks.
"Yeah.." I look up at him, and he seems like he already knows, "..just had a big fight with my girl before I left. Can't shake it off," I confess.
Jake pats me on the shoulder. "I understand, man. I wish I could say something but you gotta leave it behind for now. We've got a game to win. Sort things out later."
On the ice, rival players almost immediately target me, seeming to be aware of my vulnerable state; it must be that fucking expression of mine. I can't hide it. During the first period, a smirking opponent skates by, taunting, "trouble at home, Chrissy? Should focus on that instead of the game." he smiles.
Enraged, I retaliate with a forceful check, earning myself a penalty, "keep your temper in check, Chris!" warns the referee.
In the penalty box, I mutter under my breath, "I can't fucking believe this."
As the match progresses, rival players intensify their attempts to provoke me; we've played with those fuckers before, and if anyone has seen me in a game, they know very well the only thing that can affect the way I play is her. Undeterred, I channel my anger into my plays, determined to win this goodamn game while internally wondering if she came to see me after all.
In a breakaway, I find myself one-on-one with the opposing goalie. With a swift deke, I send the puck into the net, equalizing the score. The crowd erupts, and my teammates cheer.
Rival players persist in their attempts to get under my skin. During a tense moment, an opposing forward sneers, "look, your girlfriend's probably enjoying the show. Make sure to not embarass her again."
After that, I almost lose it, and in a heated moment, a rival defenseman delivers a high stick to my face, splitting my lip. Blood drips onto the ice as I stumble backward. The referee signals a penalty, but the damage is done.
Undeterred by the bleeding, I clench my fists, "you think that's going to stop me? You fucking coward!" I almost scream to make sure that fucking asshole hears me.
The game continues, and during a power play, I push through the pain. I charge towards the net, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lip – the only thing on my mind is her and making her proud.
Fueled by a surge of anger and determination, I respond with a spectacular goal that secures the lead for my team. I skate past the jeering opponent, acknowledging the crowd's cheers.
As the final buzzer sounds, signaling our victory, I finally spot my girlfriend in the stands. My heart beats faster. A mix of emotions plays across her face, and I realize the significance of my performance. It's like no one else is around, just us and that is the only thing that matters. I keep eye contact with her, even when my teammates are cheering for me and I smile, even with that bloody lip – she smiles back and I want to kiss her so bad.
[ YOU ]
When I saw Chris' bloody lip, I almost lost it – the restraint within me, resisting the urge to jump in and shove my fingernails into that asshole's eye sockets, is beyond words. I was well aware they were deliberately provoking Chris; his simmering anger was very evident. The recklessness in his gameplay during the initial stages of the game made it even more obvious that he was more focused on what they said than the actual game.
I kept yelling his name at the top of my lungs, unsure if he could hear, but I desperately wished for his victory, especially after that intense fight. Witnessing him wince from the pain now and then, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry.
As he scored the decisive goal and secured the victory, I couldn't contain my excitement, jumping up and down. It brought back memories of our younger days when I always cheered him on during his games.
When all of this was over and I just stood there, I could see him looking at me. His gaze finally finds me in the midst of the crowd, and my heart feels like it might leap out of my chest. Everything else fades away, leaving only him in my line of sight.
I notice all of the team leaving, probably going to the locker rooms and I quickly head to the exit door.
In the dimly lit corridor outside of where the locker rooms are, he finally comes outside and spots me waiting there, my expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
"Hey," he calls out, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apology.
I look up, meeting his eyes, "hey," a subtle smile playing on my lips, "you played amazing out there."
Still trying to catch his breath, he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, keeping me close for a while. We are not saying anything, I just hold him close, my fingers buried in his sweaty hair.
"Thank you so much for coming." he whispers.
"I would never lose any of your games. Even when you're being an asshole." I smile, which I am sure he can hear when I'm speaking.
"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to put the blame on you. I just.. I am fucking jealous. I don't want any other guy near you." he keeps his voice as low as possible.
"Shhh, I know. Let's take care of that lip first and then you can apologise to me all you want." I pull away but he doesn't let go of course – I cup his cheek and take out some tissue that I keep in my bag for emergency with my free hand. I gently pat the skin, trying to clean the blood as much as I can without hurting him.
His eyes soften, "seriously, baby. Thanks for coming. I always play better when you're cheering for me."
I look up at him, my gaze softening as well as I cup both of his cheeks now, "I know. I am so, so proud of you. You were amazing, as always." I whisper, leaning in to play the softest kiss on his little wound.
"God, I love you." he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging me close to him.
"I love you too."
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#fanfic#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#fanfiction#chris sturniolo angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#hockey#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo imagine#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo imagines#imagines#imagine#oneshot#one-shot#one shot#christopher owen sturniolo#x reader
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🐚🎹🎮
The whole gang :D (Sonic, tails, knuckles, Amy, sticks, shadow)
ask game: send me AT LEAST 3 emojis (the more random the better) and AT LEAST 2 characters from sonic boom and i’ll come up with a little drabble mini story in response!
On this particular Friday night, Team Sonic and Shadow for some reason are all sitting around Amy's house playing a kart racing game on her television. Given that the game only allows for a maximum of four players at once, Sonic, Tails, Sticks, and Shadow are currently in possession of the controllers, while Amy sits off to the side watching the race unfold in earnest. Knuckles, meanwhile, has opted to leave his place on the couch to play Für Princess Elise on Amy's piano to pass the time. And to provide some horribly unfitting background music that clashes heavily with the game's OST.
"I still don't understand why you lot are forcing me to play this pathetic game alongside you," Shadow says as he passes Sonic, much to the latter's frustration.
Sonic groans at both the loss of his spot in first place and Shadow's obstinacy. "Shadow, for the last time, us asking if you wanted to join us for Game Night, and you saying you had a million better things to do before showing up anyway isn't called forcing you. Now quit making stuff up."
"Yeah, not cool, Shadow!" Knuckles calls out from his place at the piano as he continues playing. "I bet you're the type who makes fake callouts for people on social media!"
"Not surprising. I'm telling you guys he's secretly some alien-hedgehog hybrid thing bent on ruining the rest of us in every way imaginable, starting with our online reputations," Sticks remarks as she picks up an item box. She grins maniacally when she realizes which power-up she now has at her disposal. "And someone like that doesn't deserve to be in first place! Take this, ya filthy stinker!"
Shadow snarls when the spiny blue shell comes down on his motorbike, stunning his character long enough for the other three to overtake him and then some. He barely even notices Knuckles abruptly playing an off-key scare chord before resuming his classical music without missing a beat. "I will personally make sure your end is slow and agonizing, waste of space masquerading as a badger."
"Wow. Barely three hundred words in and Shadow's already threatening to kill off one of my teammates," Sonic deadpans, picking up an item box. "Why are our fans so hung up on him becoming our sixth member again?"
"Sonic, don't pretend like you haven't thought about it yourself," Amy reprimands. "You said once, and I quote, 'He'd make a great addition to Team Sonic.'"
"Amy, why would you say that out loud when he's right here?!" Sonic complains. The sound of Shadow's derisive snort is all it takes for him to toss his red shell behind him, hoping that it makes its way past Tails and Sticks and hits this jerk in his (character's) dumb face. "I said he'd be good if he wasn't such a hard case!"
"I'm not a hard case, Blue Boy. I simply find no merit in joining a team named after you. Makes me sick just thinking about it."
"The fact that you can't even admit that you're here right now out of your own free will is literally the definition of being a hard case, dude."
"Whatever. Once I defeat you at this wretched excuse of a racing game—" Sonic's red shell finally comes around the corner, and Shadow expertly dodges it. "—I will ensure the same fate befalls you in real life."
"Yeah, maybe say that when you're not in sixth place and I'm not in first."
Shadow's expression darkens again at the reminder of his current placement and the reason behind it. "That is not my fault. It's your idiot badger friend's for unleashing her equally idiot shell on me."
Sticks huffs. "Rude. What was I supposed to do with it then, not use it?"
"Ignore him, Sticks. He's only salty because he just found out that he's bad at gaming."
"Ooh, here we go," Knuckles mutters under his breath as he switches from Beetleoven to some generic tense-sounding music. You know, the kind that plays when a fight is about to break out.
Small cracks begin forming at the edges of the buttons of Shadow's controller as he begins to press them a little too hard. "Huh? Care to run that by me aga—"
"Okay, we're not doing this. You guys stop it right now," Amy commands, a certain edge creeping into her voice. Sonic and Shadow will not be ruining Game Night… or her house. "That includes you, Knuckles."
Knuckles immediately goes back to what he was playing before. "Sorry."
To Sonic and Shadow's (especially Shadow's) credit, they both fall silent. No one says anything as the race moves on to the final lap. Shadow passes the two NPCs in front of him. Sonic maintains his lead. Shadow picks up an item box as he passes Sticks. So does Sticks as she falls into fourth. Sonic continues to maintain his lead. And then—
"Sonic, I'm making you pay for your disrespect by crushing the annoying fox into the dirt."
Right as Shadow is about to pass Tails, he activates his Mega Mushroom power-up, making his character grow three sizes bigger. He stays true to his word and runs over Tails's kart, settling into his newly obtained spot in second place.
Knuckles plays another scare chord to punctuate Shadow's hit-and-run.
"Oh, come on, I've been minding my own business all race!" Tails shouts, dismayed at his reduced speed. "Why am I getting punished for what Sonic said?!"
"Seriously, Shadow, can you stop taking your anger out on my friends every time you have beef with me? It's not fair, clever, or even funny—"
"Heads up, Sonic!"
Sonic's jaw drops when Sticks ambushes him with another blue shell right when he's about to cross the finish line.
Scare chord.
"Sticks, how in the heck are you getting all these blue shells?!" he demands to know, feeling utterly betrayed as Shadow zooms right by him and even more so when he cinches his victory on that stupid bike of his.
"I dunno!" Sticks says cheerfully over Shadow's laughter. She passes the still flattened Tails and immobile Sonic within seconds of each other, effectively nabbing the runner-up spot. "I just didn't want Shadow to stay mad at me."
"Great, you guys are just about done! Perfect timing, too," Knuckles says as he finishes his song, standing up and walking over. "Finish the race and gimme the controller, Tails."
Tails and Sonic exchange a look as they finally recover and pass the finish line, getting third and fourth respectively. Sonic slumps in his seat and holds his controller out for Amy to take. Tails sighs and hands his over to Knuckles.
"Oh, don't be so upset, Sonic," Shadow says smugly. "No one can help it if you're bad at gaming."
Shadow is so not invited back next time.
#sonic boom#sonic#shadow#amy#knuckles#tails#sticks#writing thing#emoji ask game#ask game#obsessed with anon including shadow as part of 'the whole gang' seemingly by default#they're not wrong
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Hiii Shadow do you wanna be sad about Jimmy with me
Imagine Jimmy regressing in the afterlife all alone with no caretaker. Then when he finally isn't alone the person he gets is Joel who, though he wants to help, has no idea how to care for a little.
I've had this in my head since today's video I need to get it out
AND WHAT IF I DISINTEGRATED YOU W MY LASER EYES.
God fucking- LIKE. Jimmy opening his eyes to the void. Or a small in between space, however you like to imagine it. He's a bit freaked out, frantically patting down and checking his own body to make sure this is real. That he is real. He's solid. All in one piece, wings included.
And then Jimmy remembers his death. Oh shit. Ohhh shit his Bad Boys must be so mad. He messed up so so royally.
Jimmy whines and curls into a little ball, tucking his knees against his chest and scooting back to find a wall. But there is no wall.
He hiccups as tears start to bubble in his eyes. Brown with a dying shine of red. They turn glassy while what feels like buckets start to gather on his waterline.
It was an accident... He did his best but still made a mistake. It had to be his mistake right? Isn't it always somehow his fault? He had to have done something wrong to have such a tragic accident happen to him again. Right?
Jimmy blinks, and the dam breaks.
He buries his face into his knees and sobs. He feels himself drop, absolutely plummet mentally. He falls so fast he gets dizzy. And when he stops he feels so much smaller than he's comfortable being.
He wishes someone were here. Someone to hug him and comfort him, make him less lonely in the most lonely place in the universe.
But you don't get friends in the void. When he gets back to Empires he'll find Norman or Flick or, Hell, stumble to the barn and snuggle himself on his horse's back. He's sure the animal would let him fall asleep on its back if he wanted. He just wants someone...
Jimmy hears footsteps and his head shoots up. His wings fluff anxiously and start to tremble like they're ready to lift him off the ground if he wishes. They aren't big enough for that.
"Holy- Jimmy?"
He can't see as far away as the voice sounded, but he knows by how the pitch picks up at the end the voice belongs to Joel. Joel...
Great. Just the person he wants to see while small. Go figure the one other person he'd see after such an embarrassing death that made him regress was his teammate and the one person most likely to mock him for regressing.
Jimmy makes a tiny noise of protest and scoots back further. Still no corner to tuck himself into.
"Jimmy, man," Joel jogs over to him and stops at Jimmy's toes. "Shit, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Or anyone for that matter."
Jimmy frowns at the swear word, but doesn't point it out.
Joel blinks down at his friend. He seems to have taken notice to the very obvious fact of Jimmy crying, or he had been. "Hey," Joel squats down. "Don't beat yourself up too much. It was stupid, but these games are just for fun. Bet I went out in a stupider way."
Jimmy shakes his head. "Was a as'ident.."
Joel tilts his head and leans forward a bit like it would help him understand Jimmy's little voice better. "A what? An accident?" Jimmy nods.
"Sorry, you've gotta speak up." Joel falls back and sits on his bottom with his legs crossed. "Of course it was an accident. I don't think you'd let a silly TnT minecart take you out on purpose."
Jimmy looks to the ground. Er.. what he presumes to be the ground, see as it's solid and they're sitting on it. "G mad at me?" He mumbles into his sleeve.
Joel chews on his bottom lip at that that one. "I don't think so... He was pretty upset when you died. He's gotta be even more upset now." Joel looks up, finding Jimmy staring at him. Big brown eyes still glassy.
"Are you alright, by the way? You're pretty quiet." Joel asks. It's a moment of vulnerability, of course he'd show this side of him in the void only. And he's sure it'd stay in the void.
Jimmy shakes his head. "Li'l. M' sorwy." He watches Joel for a reaction. All he gets is confusion.
"Little? What do you m- Oh." Oh indeed. He'd forgotten the terminology, since it'd been a while since Joel had to even be around a regressor, but he was familiar. Grian used to go small occasionally in Last Life, but he'd always call on someone else to care for him.
And Etho regressed too, though not in an age sense. For some reason he was content to have Joel tend to his needs and indulge in his fox-like habits inside their boat. Might've been the soulbond, or the fact it only happened twice. Joel didn't know.
"Oh, ok. Um... How little?" Jimmy shrugged, holding up two fingers, pausing and switching to three. Then two again.
"Alright. It's, uh, it's ok to not know. Do you need anything, want anything?" Joel knows he's fumbling. He's just... never had to do this before.
Jimmy's arms immediately shoot out and he makes grabby hands, silently asking for Joel to take him into his arms.
Joel cautiously reaches back and scoops Jimmy up, hugging the blond close. Like he was made of glass. The little almost instantly relaxes. Someone is holding him, finally. And Joel gives pretty good hugs.
"Sorry I can't do much else for you right now. We'll just have to wait until we get home." Joel says. One arm loops protectively around Jimmy's middle, and his other hand rests on his back. Like he's holding an actual baby.
"S' fine. Cuddwes good." Jimmy sighs and nuzzles his face against Joel's shoulder.
"...And I'm sorry this made you regress. I know you'll be ok, but it still stinks." At this point Joel was just talking to himself, the baby in his arms was far too tired to keep listening, and was zoning out.
If it wasn't for the distant "Etho, you jerk!" Jimmy probably would have fallen asleep.
Joel whips his head around and Jimmy looks up too, barely raising his head from Joel's shoulder.
"Skizz?!" Joel shouts back. Jimmy whines at the loud noise and Joel pets his blond hair as an apology.
"Joel?! Are you serious right now?!" Skizz shouts back and, from the sounds of it, starts running towards them. He appears from the darkness and grins. He's... still in his red name costume. Joel instinctively shields Jimmy's eyes from the sight.
"Oh hey! Jimmy's here too." He chirps. "Man, go figure I get stuck with the two people we kinda had beef with."
"Yeah, real funny." Joel grumbles. "You could not have picked a worse outfit to wear this series."
Skizz looks down, finding little issue with his apparel besides maybe a second pair of pants. "I look great to me."
"It's not child friendly, is my point. And I don't know if you could tell, but Jimmy is in a childish headspace." Joel stated matter-of-factly. Jimmy thought of biting him for telling his secret, but just made an annoyed whine and squirmed a bit.
Skizz's whole demeanor changed. "Oh my- Ok yeah that.. This looks a bit bad now." Joel still glared at him over his sunglasses.
Skizz moved Joel's hand from Jimmy's eyes and smiled at the kid. "Hey, sorry you gotta see me in my undies." He jokes. Jimmy snorts and almost giggles. He looks so sleepy...
"I promise I won't tell a soul. I look after a little too, so I get it. This'll stay your secret." Skizz reassures. It calms a steady drip of anxiety in Jimmy's gut, so he just nods.
"Thank you, Skizz." Joel says for the both of them. "Oh hey, got any tips?"
Skizz tosses his head from side to side. "The little guy seems pretty happy right now. If he's still small when you get home, just ask him if he needs anything."
"Thanks. We... should be going soon, yeah?" Joel looks around as if to find a timer or another accursed clock to indicate how long they'd been here.
"Any minute now, probably. I'll see you guys in the next one then." Skizz delivers it like a joke. Like maybe he'd see them before then, though he wouldn't. Their lives were just too different.
"Yeah. Maybe we'll be friends next time."
#shadow's scribing again#should i make an answer tag?#aromanticwhore#sorry for the weird ending i wanted to end it before it got too long#anyway THEM!! LITTLE JIMMY!!!!#mcyt agere
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daniel stans: max B-A-D! needs daniel to repair his PR image and make him likable.
daniel stans: lando B-A-D! -insert conspiracy theory of your choice about how he's talentless and only outperformed daniel due to favoritism-
daniel stans: oscar B-A-D! hope he flops for sealing my amazing, talented baby waby's seat!
then there's me, hoping he just decides to retire and get into commentating or something because he can't even go to a team as a 3rd driver without his stans spreading toxicity everywhere he goes.
and frankly, I'm just going to say it: i know other max fans get frustrated at the way checo fans talk about max. trust me, i don't like it either. but as someone who supports both red bull and mclaren, trust me when i say daniel's fans would be much worse.
lots of dts converts who legitimately believe daniel was better than max and had to leave red bull because they were needlessly favoring max (basically the same shit you hear about lando and mclaren), lots of people who genuinely believe every other driver is evil and needs goofy daniel to teach them how to be good/fun people, lots of people who were literally willing to put their entire fucking moral code aside and harass the social media admin of a mental health charity because "oh my god, you allow mclaren to promote your charity when they just fired my fav multimillionaire driver? you're absolutely useless!!!" also like, checo fans will make shit conspiracy theories about max needing favoritism to win or beat his teammate or whatever, but Dan stans take conspiracy theories to a whole new level. most of the shit you've seen about how lando got into f1? completely inaccurate, started by a salty dan stan who couldn't accept him being outperformed.
like I do think, especially if the frontrunners are closer and checo doesn't improve his performance, red bull should look into replacing him, but trust me - replacing him with daniel would do NOTHING for the toxic teammate (remember, he left because he couldn't accept being 2nd driver to begin with) or the toxic fan dynamic the team is already dealing with.
You really just dropped the best anon I’ve gotten and dipped oh my god😭😭
But I agree with all of this. The amount of people who are saying how Daniel being back is going help Max for his image and show him how to be fun again is literally a joke. If people watched red bull content over Sky Sports they would see that Max is literally so fun, so nice and so chill when he’s around people he is comfortable with. The Lando and Oscar thing I agree with too, neither have done anything wrong at all. Oscar got a seat he deserved and Lando was racing which is what he is there to do yes McLaren fucked up calls for Daniel but that isn’t Lando’s fault and the amount of people wishing Oscar the worst season ever are just fucking annoying and constantly commenting under his posts are fucking weird.
I don’t mind Dan being here for PR honestly I don’t overly car but I wouldn’t want him in the car cause of his fans who have in all honestly turned me off him. They shit on Max, Christian and red bull so much, saying how now they have to support them, I’ve seen some people saying how they want Max or Checo to get sick but Dan left he did that. Like look I’m glad he’s happy and he’s content with his decision but he isn’t the driver, he is there to drag in the views but I’ve already seen people commenting under Max posts “give us Daniel” and all that shit and honestly the thought of just reading all of it is annoying. There was an article about how Max wants to do his own sim time and people were jumping to abuse him cause they interpreted it as him not wanting Daniel to do it…like tf.
The thing with DTS did really annoy me cause Daniel must have known that Max was being unfairly treated but he was getting the best coverage cause he was portrayed as the fun, happy driver and anyone who upset him deserved to be abused. At least Max stands up for the others who got fucked over as well, he doesn’t ignore it. Like he is a grown ass man who has not preformed and as you said the social media admin got abused for literally nothing and it will always be funny for me to see them and other talking about mental health when they abuse Lando and Oscar and every turn.
I think he should have never left Renault and he fucked up and now he’s back because he didn’t want the Haas seat cause he doesn’t want to be at the back but he also doesn’t want to be second to Max??? Like right now he isn’t a first driver personally I think for a top team. If Checo got dumped then I’d prefer to see an actual red bull youngest take it tbh. Daniel coming back into this team is for PR and that’s all I can see it being, I can’t see him being a number 1 in a top team and I can’t see him being number 2 with Max unless he drops the ego
#anon💜#dude this anon was perfect holy shit#go you#this isn’t to abuse Daniel PSA#just calling out the shit his fans are up to now
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ALWAYS MINE
YANDERE! CHILDHOOD FRIEND ITOSHI RIN
content warnings ─── childhood friend, yandere tendencies, baby trapping, possessive rin, abandonment issues, overstimulation.
ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ you were there always for him, now he's returning the favor.
childhood friend! rin who is cold and distant to you. he changed when that whole fiasco with his older brother happened. sometimes you missed the old rin. your friend who once shared a dream with yours.
childhood friend! rin who pretends he doesn't care about you anymore but he does care, a little.
childhood friend! rin meeting you once again in one his matches. he just gives you a glance and walks away. doesn't show any hint of feelings or familiarity with you but the skip of the beat in his heart says other wise.
childhood friend! rin doesn't forget you. clear as the day when he first met you as both children and now adults. you were cute but now you're gorgeous.
childhood friend! rin who's upset when he notices that you're wearing the other teams' jersey from a quick glance. what happened to that talk that you'll support him in every game since he first decided that he'll be the best soccer player in the world.
childhood friend! rin who gets jealous when you talk to other players. why won't you talk to him. he knows he's not a big fan of talking and only takes interviews but why. women and men alike have been dying to talk to him and there's you, it's like you've forgotten yesterday. well he is too. he doesn't care about the past except you. the one who shaped his childhood and made it more bearable when he lost his faith to his brother.
childhood friend! rin is sending glares to your direction. hoping you would notice him and you did but you're to nervous to talk to him despite sharing a life with him in both of your younger days. you don't want it to be awkward.
childhood friend! rin whose heart is leaping out of his chest. you're this close to him and he can see you biting your lip and ignoring his gaze. you both stand in that field, facing each other, not muttering a word in each other.
childhood friend! rin who almost smiles when you talked to him. congratulations rinrin. you breathe out before apologizing knowing how much he hates that nickname but it might a chance to reconcile with him. your childhood friend.
childhood friend! rin who denied that he loves you for so many years but in fact he truly did love you. he's just too stubborn to accept it. always was you who stood beside him when things get rough, remaining strong for him until he wasted your efforts. watching as you both got torn apart by his selfish reasons. now you're here, you can be his again and no one else. not even his brother.
childhood friend! rin saw an opportunity to get closer to you. bluntly saying that you should watch all of his matches and the satisfaction he receives when you accepted.
childhood friend! rin who discreetly gatekeeps you. making sure you wore his jersey, makes you avoid other players. saying thet are foul and doesn't care about you.
childhood friend! rin who starts to get more possessive on you, to the point he doesn't care about your feelings anymore nor to your freedom.
childhood friend! rin who always says that you're going to leave him just like you did when you were still children, cuts you off when you tried to explain that it is part of growing up. growing up is not leaving him all alone but it's entirely his fault. he pushed you until you can't take it no more.
childhood friend! rin who leaves you crying in every argument. his words cutting deep than it already was. you he's that blunt that it only a graze in your skin but now it's like putting salt in a wound.
childhood friend! rin who doesn't care when you cry. he'll hurt you just to prevent you from leaving him.
childhood friend! rin who destroys the potential threats in your life. be it with your friends or family or his teammates.
childhood friend! rin who tries his advances to you. be with hugging you from behind while you're getting change, his hands to your soft stomach. caressing the fat and the rolls their until it went down to your hips and then to your thick thighs and subtly brushing his fingers to your pussy which always made you freeze and that whimper. signalling that you don't want him.
childhood friend! rin who gets annoyed as time passes by. his hands itching to touch you in the ways he can think of.
childhood friend! rin who forces himself to you. ripping your clothes one time while you were pinned on your shared bed. patience is one of his strong suits but to you it never is.
childhood friend! rin who feels no remorse when you cry, only shutting you up by crashing his lips into yours. sucking your tongue until neither of you can't breathe.
childhood friend! rin rubbing his crotch into yours before slipping off his pants. his cock slaps in his abdomen when he releases it and you're crying harder, knowing what will happen next.
childhood friend! rin whose fingers is already pumping into your fat cunt. making sure you're wet and well stretched before he takes you.
childhood friend! rin slotting his hips between your legs and his cockhead is already brushing into your awaiting hole. rin who groans when he can feel his length being engulfed in your warm walls. the more he forces his cock inside you, the more your walls clenches around him.
childhood friend! rin is cupping your soft jaw before slowly moving deep inside you. testing the waters if you're ready to take him all and moves within a minute. fully thrusting his cock and watching as your stomach jiggles at the movement.
childhood friend! rin who forces you to look at him when he's fucking you. doesn't care if you're full on crying. loves when your face twist into pleasure, your body betraying you for how he's making you feel good. his thrusts filled with desperation and looking to you. he wants to see you cum for him.
childhood friend! rin tells you that you'll always be this good everyday. taking him so well and says that he's returning the favor for looking out at him when you're still kids and it's time for him to take care of you.
childhood friend! rin who makes you cum multiple times. mesmerized at the sight of his cock and your pussy being engulfed in your essence. topples him over the edge while releasing his seed deep inside you. making sure his cockhead is kissing your cervix.
childhood friend! rin who thinks that you'll look good with his kids. all round and soft for him and you can't be with anyone else besides him.
childhood friend! rin stuffing you full with his seed, letting his cock as plug into your pussy. making sure it will knock you up in no time
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#blue lock x chubby reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#chubby reader#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x chubby reader#plus size reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock smut
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artificial scarcity || (soft)dark!Jake Jensen x reader
summary: you'll realize how good he can treat you, how badly you need him, one way or another. you just need a little encouragement, that's all.
word count: 4k, somehow...
warnings: smut! (dubcon; she is fully consenting but under dubious circumstances), drugging (technically), kidnapping, imprisonment, starvation, touch-starved reader, bed sharing, grinding/thigh fucking, size kink, spanking, implied stalking/voyeurism, implied noncon (kinda?), jake being possessive and manipulative and creepy
a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble which is why the pacing might feel a little rushed in the beginning but I hope you guys don’t mind!
Jake was normally a relatively patient guy, especially with you since he had an obvious soft spot for the newest member of the team. But after months of trying to get your attention, of his abysmal flirting not getting him anywhere, of you becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of him as a friend and nothing else, his patience was running thin.
He was tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue you and show you that he was the perfect guy for you. He was tired of waiting for you to figure out that he could be everything you needed if you just let him. So, he figured he needed to manufacture a chance to save you; he needed to take away some things just to bring them back, show you what it was like to let him take care of you.
Getting close to you was easy, you were teammates and friends so you trusted him. The tricky thing was he didn't want you to know it was him, so he used your trust to lure you right into his trap.
Movie night tonight? There’s some cheesy slasher playing at the drive in at 1930, he texted you as soon as he could to the showtime to decrease the odds of you having any time to tell anyone about your plans to meet up with him; he’d rather not have the heat of being the last person to see you before your disappearance.
yeah sure! are you driving? you replied almost instantly.
Yep, I’ll pick you up at S Lamar and Hanover in 10, he informed you, knowing it was close to your apartment but far away from any security cameras or likely witnesses.
He parked a block away and walked around the corner to see you standing there under the flickering streetlight looking at your phone. You were waiting for him, and as he hid behind cover to come closer, you were clearly looking around for where he might be. Thankfully, you didn't see him or his tranq gun, and he got your neck on the first shot.
He ran to catch you before you fell, relishing the weight of your body limp and pliant in his arms. Somehow, he resisted the urge to play with you now, knowing it would be worth the wait to let his whole plan come to fruition.
//
The room he locked you in was dark and damp, barely any light but enough to see the half-full water bottle he left for you; your chain was short but you could reach everything you needed. It broke his heart to hear your cries but he had to ignore them, if he came in now it wouldn't make sense. He needed to be patient.
When the video feed from his camera inside showed that you'd fallen asleep for the night, he snuck in to bring you a new water bottle and a little granola bar since you'd screamed all day about being hungry. You seem surprised when you woke up and saw it, quickly grabbing the bar but taking a long time to examine and smell it first before eating, like you were afraid it was poisoned. But you ate, and drank your water, and waited for rescue.
Day 3 was the hardest to watch. You tugged at your chain so much that he worried you'd hurt yourself. He decided tomorrow was the last day because he couldn't take any more of this.
On the fourth day, he waited until you started to cry yourself to sleep before shutting down his equipment and finally coming to the door; he took a deep breath, preparing himself, before dramatically kicking it down and gasping when he saw you. He called your name into the dark and you barely had the energy to open your eyes, poor thing.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" he yelped, dashing over to where you were chained and picking at the lock. "I'm gonna get you out, don't worry, you're safe now."
"Jensen...?" you mumbled sleepily, making him smile and stroke your face a little.
"Yeah, I'm right here."
//
He carried you to his car and drove you home-- not your old home, your new one which also happened to be his apartment.
"I think it's time to wake up, I'm guessing you wanna take a shower," he cooed at your sleeping form, watching you stir in his arms before finally blinking your eyes open and looking up at him.
"Oh," you whispered. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Yes," he laughed, "you've been out the whole ride here."
"Oh…” you repeated, “and where are we?"
"My apartment. I didn't want to leave you alone right now."
You nodded, seemingly in agreement. "You can put me down now."
He reluctantly did as you'd asked, watching you carefully put weight back on your legs.
"Woah!" he chuckled when you wobbled a bit, reaching out to catch you, but you recovered.
"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled at you.
"Just wish I'd found you sooner.”
"Um, you said I can take a shower?"
"Yeah, down that hall, first door on the right. I'll bring you some clothes,” he explained, and you smiled weakly before navigating your way to the bathroom.
//
You looked so good in his clothes that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out into the living room. The t-shirt that was almost too tight on him was baggy on you, reminding him of how delicate you were in so many ways, how much bigger he was than you.
It reminded him that if he really wanted to, he could force himself on you and you'd be helpless to stop him. But that wasn't what he wanted. It was going to be so much better this way.
"Wanna go to bed now? I'll take the couch," he offered.
"N-no," you stammered, and he gave you a quizzical look. "I don't… I don't want you that far away."
"Okay, I could sleep on the floor," he bargained instead, "in my room, with you."
"No," you sighed again, "then I won't be able to see you."
"I'll be right there," he reminded you.
"It's a king, right? You can share with me."
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"No, please, this is the only way I'll be comfortable."
"Okay," he smiled, guiding you to the bedroom. He let you watch him take off his shirt and smirked a little when he saw you ogling.
"I usually just sleep in boxers," he admitted nervously. "I'll put on some pajama pants at least."
"It's fine, really," you smiled. "I don't wanna be any more of a burden than I already am."
"You're not a burden."
"And I'm not gonna wear pants to bed anyways," you shrugged.
"O-oh."
But he hadn't given you a new pair of panties to wear because he didn't have any to give you. Which meant that if you took off the sweats he'd given you, that'd leave you in his shirt and nothing else.
He tried not to let that thought go straight to his cock as he unbuttoned and pushed down his pants, seeing you conflicted on where to look, before getting in bed. You did the same, taking the sweats off once you were under the covers and tossing them out from under the blanket.
"Goodnight," he smiled as he turned off the lamp, hearing you whisper it back before starting to shift around and get comfortable.
He didn't have to wait nearly as long as he had expected to hear you meekly whisper, "Jensen?"
"Yeah, is everything alright?" he asked, voice full of concern.
"I… I don't want to ask you for anything else…" you sighed.
"No, hey, it's okay," he assured, "ask for anything."
"Would you, um, would you hold me?"
He cleared his throat a little. "If you need me to."
"Please, it's the only way I'll be able to sleep."
He sighed a little but relented, coming over to your side of the bed and spooning you, gingerly laying one arm over you and trying to avoid touching you anywhere too personal.
"Thank you," you sighed sleepily.
"Whatever you need,” he assured.
"Jake, why are you doing all this for me?" you asked quietly, turning back a little to look at him.
"You're my teammate, nobody gets left behind,” he explained. “Besides, this is all my fault anyways. You were waiting for me when they got you."
"No, Jake, don't say that. It's not your fault."
"Alright, but it's not yours either. You didn't deserve that."
“You’re right, but I don’t deserve this either,” you mumbled.
“Yes, you do.”
You shifted slightly against him, humming contentedly, and he groaned.
"I think maybe we should stop," he hissed, pulling away�� but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"No, wait," you whimpered. "Why? What’s wrong?"
"I, uh, I guess I'm just experiencing some of the consequences of laying in bed with a beautiful woman…"
"Huh?"
"The, um, the biological consequences."
"I— oh,” you whispered.
"Yeahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly.
"No, hey, it's okay. I don't mind, I mean, you can't help it,” you shrugged.
"Sorry, I'm not normally this easily amused but it's been a while, so…"
"I understand," you assured, "really, it's okay… just don't go."
He just barely heard your gasp as he pressed himself against you, his shaft cradled perfectly between each soft globe of your ass. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.
"Y-yeah," you answered, making him suppress a laugh since it was obvious you were noticing his size. He would bet a grand at least that you were getting wet right now, if he had anyone to bet against.
Your back arched a little, pushing your ass into him with more force, and you actually started to rock your hips ever so slightly.
"Stop moving," he hissed through his teeth.
"I'm not…" you denied weakly.
"Yes you are, you're… rubbing yourself on me."
"I'm sorry, it just feels good,” you admitted sleepily, surprising him with your forwardness. “You like it too, right?"
"Yes, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you,” he admitted worriedly.
"You're not,” you promised, “you did so much for me— you saved me— and I want to help you, too. You said it's been a while since you were with anybody, I could help you out… you know, you could rub up against me until you…"
He groaned a little but leaned in closer until his lips were right against your ear. "Are you sure? Don't do me any favors, you don't owe me anything."
"I want you to," you assured, making him smile and nod a bit, taking a moment to enjoy a deep breath as he prepared himself.
Carefully, he began to rock his hips forward, rubbing his cock on you through his boxers. Even with a layer of cotton in the way he could feel your warmth, he could imagine how smooth your skin was. If you hadn't been able to make out the shape of him before, you certainly could now— the ridge of his head was probably digging into you, and on particularly long thrusts he could feel your ass against his balls (which, inversely, meant you could feel his balls against your ass).
He held your hips as he picked up his pace a bit, grinding into you and breathing heavily in your ear. You gasped and tried to hide a moan by biting your lip but he heard it. It was even more obvious when he whispered your name to you, heavy with desire, and rubbed your spine with his finger. Your back arched even further, inviting him to push harder against you until he felt the slightest wet patch forming on his boxers— not from him, from you. It made his cock throb and his breath catch in his throat.
Overcome with need, he pushed his boxers down quickly before getting back to it, both of you moaning at the feeling of his skin on yours. He was so close to your pussy he could hardly stand it, and he knew you must be dripping right now, desperate to be filled. He could probably slip right in and you wouldn't even stop him, but that wasn't what he needed from you right now. You needed to ask him for it. He knew you wanted it, but he needed you to know you wanted it.
A drop of precum formed at his slit, smearing onto your skin and easing his way further.
"I want you to feel good, too," he whispered. "I don't just want to use you."
He pushed his cock down and slipped it between your thighs instead, sliding right against your wet, silky folds. You whined beautifully as he thrusted forward, your thighs clenching (and therefore gripping him even tighter) when his cock slid right over your clit.
Your wetness was plentiful enough to drench him just from this, so he already knew the answer but he still asked, "does it feel good?"
"Yes," you sighed. "Yes, it's good…"
He knew he could make you come like this, and he knew exactly how to, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted. Instead he only gave you enough to keep you on the edge, moving too slow to really let you finish. You even tried to move faster but his grip on your hips was too tight, keeping you still so he could savor his own pace and keep you desperate.
"Fuck me," you moaned.
"I don't have a condom," he whispered nervously.
"I don't care, just please…"
That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling back enough to guide his head to your entrance before sliding right in. Your wet, hot walls stretched open to accept him, struggling against his girth but eventually giving way.
Your hand shot back to grab onto his thigh, trying to keep him from going too deep, but he had no intentions of holding back now that he was inside you; he delicately grabbed your wrist and guided your hand back to your chest where he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.
"Baby," he moaned into your ear as his hips met yours. "This is my pussy now."
You gasped and shivered in his arms, eyes falling shut as he pulled back and pushed in again, incredibly slow but as deep as he could push himself.
Your moans were perfect, even better than the ones he'd heard when he hacked into your webcam because it wasn't just your fingers or toy anymore, it was him— exactly what you'd always needed, whether you knew it or not. He'd dreamed of this for so long and now that he had you he couldn't imagine ever letting you go. Every inch of your channel was like heaven, every moan was somehow more beautiful than the last.
"That's it, baby, take all of me," he purred when he pressed deep into your cunt, holding your hips so the tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you. You made the cutest little choking noise and he kissed your neck while trying his best to make you do it again, moving faster and slapping his hips against yours more firmly.
"Jake," you managed to whimper, and he groaned through his teeth.
"Yeah, I'm right here," he promised. "That's me inside you, sweetheart, that's my cock filling you up."
He leaned back slightly and pulled your ass apart so he could see his cock stretching you out, disappearing into your body. It made his head fall back for a moment before he pulled you close again and started thrusting faster. He reached around and brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it fiercely as he kept thrusting.
"Oh fuck," you moaned, "Jake, right there… I'm gonna come…"
He laughed a little, kissing your ear as a show of approval. "Baby, you're so sensitive," he praised, giving your clit a little spank. You cried out and shuddered, bouncing yourself back on his cock, meeting his thrusts. Amused by your neediness, he stopped moving and watched you go.
"There you go, sweetheart, fuck yourself with my cock. Make yourself come."
You whined and kept going, your ass slapping against his hips loudly. He kept rubbing your clit as you worked his cock, your walls starting to clench down on him rhythmically and your body beginning to shake.
The absolute second he heard you cry out with pleasure as you reached the peak, he grabbed you and rolled both of you over until you were on your stomach and he was brutally fucking you into the mattress. He could still feel you pulsing around his length, gripping him tight and pulling him deeper.
"That's it, keep fuckin' coming for me," he groaned. "Gimme one more and then I'm gonna fill you up."
"Jake!" you yelped, grabbing onto the pillow and even biting it as he slammed into you.
"You're so good, baby, your pussy feels so good," he growled, pinning you down by your shoulders as he sped up even more. He laughed when he felt your walls weakly fluttering, his balls hitting your swollen clit with each thrust. "Gonna come again already, baby? Just from my cock?"
"Yes," you sobbed hoarsely, "yes, Jake, I'm gonna come again— oh my god, please don't stop…"
"Oh, I won't stop," he assured. "You take it so fuckin' good, sweetheart, like you were made for it. Like you were made for me."
You moaned loudly and he took the opportunity to spank you— not incredibly hard but enough to make you whine a bit… and get even wetter.
"Oh fuck, you like that huh?" he purred with a grin. "You like it rough."
"Yes, fuck, I love it," you agreed with a moan. "I'm— I'm coming, Jake, don't stop."
"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, "I can feel it. Feels so good when you come on my cock, baby…"
You went suddenly from arching your back and gripping the pillow to falling limp and relaxing, your body his toy now as he fucked you to the point of overstimulation. Your moans were exhausted and muffled now, your walls clinging to him desperately as he continued stroking every sensitive place he could reach (which was all of them).
He could so easily pull out and paint your back, or jerk himself off over your ass, but if he was going to claim your body then he was going to do it right.
He didn't warn you in advance, just in case you suddenly decided to tell him to pull out, but he did make sure you knew what he was doing. "Fuck, I'm coming!" he moaned as his cock flexed and his seed filled you, still thrusting in time with each pump of his release. It was nearly overwhelming, physically and psychologically. He was finally filling you like he'd fantasized about basically every time he got off since he met you, finally making you his the way you should've been from the beginning.
He sighed and laid down on top of you, smiling as he kissed all over your face, neck, shoulders, and back.
You giggled sleepily, but whined when he tried to pull out, bringing your legs up to hold him inside. "Don't go yet," you pleaded.
"Okay, baby, I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," he promised. "Goodnight, beautiful…"
//
Not only could he not think of a night he'd slept better in his life, but he was pretty sure this was the best any man had slept in the history of sleep. But even then, he wasn't at all disappointed when you woke him up.
"Good morning," you whispered in his ear with a giggle, making him blink his eyes open and look down at where you were resting your face on his chest.
"Good morning," he returned with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.
"Last night was… pretty amazing," you smiled coyly, and he stroked your cheek as he felt it warm even more.
"Yeah, you have no idea," he chuckled, lifting your head so he could give you a kiss. It was supposed to be quick and wholesome but you deepened it instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Just as you started to climb up to straddle him, he heard your stomach loudly growl and he pulled back to laugh.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you've got some other needs to take care of first," he smirked.
"Ugh, you're right," you sighed, "I'm going raid your kitchen."
"No, let me do that, I'll make you something— whatever you want," he offered, starting to sit up, but you pushed him back down.
"Jake, you've done enough for me already. I don't even know what I want, that's why I wanna go look at what you have."
"If you insist," he relented, watching you hop out of bed and playfully smacking your ass when it was within reach. You giggled and scampered away, leaving him to lay back and put his hands up behind his head, taking a deep breath of satisfaction. His plan had not only worked but gone beyond his expectations— clearly you had wanted this, on some level, from the beginning, you were too eager for him to believe otherwise. But that didn't matter now, because you were finally his and it was exactly as he'd dreamed it would feel: right, undeniably and overwhelmingly right.
He decided to take a break from basking in his own glory for a while to get up and find some food for himself as well. After all, he planned on fucking you at least one more time today so he'd need lots of energy to keep him going.
He slipped back on his boxers and walked to the kitchen, finding you there standing oddly still. "What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused scoff.
"Jake…" you mumbled, staring into the cabinet blankly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer but stopping in his tracks when he saw what you were looking at: a six-pack box of granola bars. He sighed a little as he internally chided himself for such a rookie mistake. "Baby, seriously, what's wrong?"
"I… these… this is the same kind they gave me… it was the only thing I ate for almost four days."
"Oh my god," he whispered, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around you to try to soothe you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories. You only ate granola bars for four days? Honey, you must be starving, please just let me cook you something—"
"No, not only granola bars: only a granola bar. Just one…"
You reached up to grab the box but he held you tighter, trying to stop you. Instead what happened was you accidentally knocked the box over, exactly five bars sliding out and landing on the floor with a crinkly thud.
You gasped with realization and tried to squirm away but his comforting hug turned into restraint instantly. "Jake, let me go…"
"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't think I can do that."
"Jake, please," you begged with a sob. "Why did you— how could you?"
"I know you had feelings for me, you just needed a little encouragement."
"Feelings for you? I hate you!"
"Huh, that's odd, because I distinctly remember you begging me to fuck you last night,” he taunted. “I remember you coming for me, twice. Is that what you normally do when you hate somebody?"
"You're a monster," you sneered.
"And you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," he chuckled, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, pressing his hips against yours as you whined and failed to squirm away. "So you might as well let yourself like it."
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Kuroo x fem. reader
First time writing fan fic and its gonna be awful and I'm sorry. But I wanted to give it a shot lol
(X oikawa too maybe?)
Synopsis: you're in a band who just toured with a more well known band and are back home in Japan. You're playing at a local bar where Oikawa , kuroo and a couple of their uni teammates frequent.
_______________________________________________
Its been six months since you've been back home and man does it feel good. You love touring and getting to travel and all of the experiences that came with it but you were homesick. Tonight you and your band were playing at a local bar, it'd be the last show you have for a bit so you guys can take a break and relax and maybe come up with a new song.
The stage crew was setting things up while you and the guys were finishing getting ready.
______________________
Kuroo had been dragged out to the bar by Bokuto. Usually he wouldn't mind going but he was pretty tired from practice but you can't really say no to Bokuto, and it was more energy to fight him than complying so he went. It looked like the band was going to play soon so Kuroo grabbed a table and ordered some drinks. As he's looking around he notices that shittykawa is here with iwa and not surprisingly a horde of girls. He tries his hardest to blend in so oikawa doesn't see them and come talk to them, he doesn't mind oikawa or iwa but with him comes those girls and that's more than Kuroo can handle right now. Unfortunately for him Oikawa sees Kuroo and Bokuto and starts yelling from the bar and walks over.
" Well look who we have here" oikawa says in a sing-song tone
" Hey hey hey what are you guys doing here!?" Bokuto questions
Iwa states " shittykawa said one of his friends is back from tour and is playing tonight so he wanted to come see her."
Oikawa and Iwa join you and Bokuto at the table as the lights start dimming and the band comes out.
"Well it looks like its time, let's crush it" you say to your band as you guys walk on stage.
No matter how many shows you play you always have a little stage freight at first, but music is your passion and all of that anxiety melts away as soon as you start playing.
"Thank you so much for coming out tonight!! We're really happy to be back home in Japan!! I hope you guys enjoy the show!!"
Your drummer Yuri yells "1 2 3 4!" And then you begin your first song and you can feel all of the anxiety disappear.
As soon as the lead singer walked on stage everyone in the bar shut up. She was pretty as fuck if he was being honest, she had (h/c) and bright (e/c) eyes. She was wearing a black tank with a red plaid skirt and fishnets underneath with big black buckle boots. They started their first song and she had an incredible voice, it was so unique. It was like he was hypnotized by it.
" Alright guys this will be our last song of the night! But we'll be staying to hangout with all of you after the show! This last song is a cover of "Stay the night" I hope you enjoy!!
As you're looking into the crowd you can see your friend Toru with a few other guys. As you're singing the chorus of the song " Are you gonna stay the night?" You give them a wink 😉
Shows always seem to go so fast and before you know it , its over.
"Thank you so much for coming to see us!! We really hope you liked it!!"
Cheering explodes
And with that you and the band move into the bar to talk to everyone.
As soon as you walk off stage you see Toru booking it towards you and you can't help but laugh as he envelops you in a crushing hug.
" (y/n) that was so great! I'm really glad you're home, I've missed you!"
You laugh " thanks and I've missed you too."
As you take a step backwards you see 3 other guys come towards you and oikawa.
Toru turns to them and introduces them "(y/n) this is Iwa, Bokuto and Kuroo they're my volleyball teammates at Tokyo U."
Bokuto the owl like one says " Your show was fucking fire!"
You chuckle as you express your gratitude.
Kuroo feels a tiny pang of jealousy as he sees oikawa pick you up and hug you which baffles him because he doesn't even know you. He sees Iwa and Bokuto stand to join you guys so he follows, he's feeling a little nervous which is irritating because he usually has no problem talking to girls. Oikawa introduces him and the other two and you all start chatting.
Soon Oikawas fanclub surrounds him , Iwa and Bokuto so he's left alone with you at the bar. You smile at him and he's kicking himself internally for blushing like a school boy.
calm down Kuroo she's just a girl, it must be the alcohol he thinks to himself as he regains composure.
But of course Torus fanclub has swarmed him so you're left at the bar sitting with Kuroo, you look over at him and smile and you can see his cheeks are a tinge of pink which causes you to smile more.
" So how did you meet shittykawa?" Kuroo asks
At that nickname you burst out laughing
" shittykawa? Ha ill have to remember that one. And we met 2 years ago, my band and I were playing somewhere and he was there. After the show we always hangout with the people who come so he came up to me and started flirting of course. But somehow we became really good friends. What about you?"
" In high school he was the captain of a rival team and I was the captain of my schools but we'd obviously have matches together and sometimes practice together. Then we ended up going to the same college and now we're on the same team."
Kuroo was having a really good time talking to you. It was really interesting getting to know what life on tour was like. He talked about how volleyball was going.
You were asking him when his next game was when a guy came up behind you and threw his arm over your shoulders. Kuroo felt that little pang of jealously again but ignored it because it was completely irrational. You looked up at who it was and Kuroo could tell you were a bit uncomfortable but smiled nonetheless and said hi. This dude was drunk as hell.
" hey baby you were really great up there, you wanna get out of here? We'd have a really good time."
" Oh thank you I'm glad you liked the show but no I'm okay here thanks."
This guy was persistent though and you were giving kuroo a look that said how uncomfortable you were.
Kuroo finally had enough and removed the guys arm from you " Look man you're obviously hammered and she doesn't want to go home with you, take the fucking hint and leave her alone."
The guy scoffed but probably figured it was too much trouble to keep harassing her as long as he was around.
"Thank you" she said with a small smile but he could tell you were still unnerved about what happened.
"No problem, I'm assuming that happens a lot?"
You look at kuroo and say "yeah unfortunately "
It was getting pretty late and you were beat after the show so it was time for you to go home.
" I had a lot of fun talking to you Kuroo, I hope to see you again soon."
" Yeah me too, we should definitely hangout."
You smile at him and give him a hug, before you leave you grab his hand and write your phone number on him.
"Call or text me" you yell as you start walking away to find Toru to say bye.
Kuroo just looks down at his hand with your number on it and starts smiling like an idiot. Bokuto comes out of nowhere and slaps him on the back as he says " you ready to go?"
You find Toru still surrounded by his fan club so you have to wiggle yourself through until you reach him.
" Hey Toru I'm heading out"
He whines " Awhhh (y/n) you're leaving already? I hardly got to spend time with you!!"
You laugh " who's fault is that? I've been sitting at the bar all night you could've been hanging out with me"
He pouts and you roll your eyes at his dramatics.
He picks you up and hugs you tightly, as he sets you down he whispers in your ear " I've really missed you (y/n)" and its not in that flirty way he usually talks with. You smile at him and say " then hangout with me dork, I'm back for the foreseeable future. You have my number" you wave behind you as you walk away.
I hope this was okay, I had fun writing it and if people like it maybe ill make it a series. (:
#anime#haikyū!!#kuroo tetsurō#kuroo tetsurō x reader#oikawa x reader#oikawa torū#iwaizumi hajime#fanfic
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Red vs Blue Fic: Silent Night
Summary: Near the end of Project Freelancer, York and Carolina find one last moment of peace together.
Parings: Yorkalina
Warnings: none.
Notes: Remix of @redvsbluemicrofic’s “All is Bright,” written for @redvsblueremixchange. Also available on AO3.
You know he's watching.
You're failing worse and worse every day—as a leader and a soldier—but you've still got that much situational awareness. The world is narrowed down to the whirl of red-and-green targets, your pounding heartbeat, the torque and strain of your body—
But you still know that York is slouched in the observation room above, not even bothering to wear his armor, coffee mug in hand.
You've always known when he was watching you.
"Round complete," says FILSS, as the targets all reset to green.
"Run it again," you say, not looking up. You know he wants to catch your eye. You know he wants you to smile, relax, all the things you don't have time for.
You won't let him make you.
"That last round showed a three point six percent increase—"
"Just run it again," you snarl, and launch into another attack.
It used to make you happy, his eyes on your six and his laughter at your back. You loved that from the moment you pulled that lighter out of his hands, he never stopped looking at you.
Now he looks and he looks and he can't see how you're failing. He smiles like you're still Number One, and it's not right, it's not fair, when your team is falling apart and it's all your fault.
You couldn't stop CT from turning traitor. You couldn't stop Tex from killing her. You couldn't, you can't—
But you will.
"Run it again," you say breathlessly, before FILSS can even tell you the round is complete.
If you keep trying, if you keep training. If you throw away all those moments when you doubted the Director, when you wanted something he didn't tell you to be—if you rip out everything weak in your soul—
(York is a Freelancer and a soldier and he deserves his spot on the leaderboard, but he's weaker than you, Carolina. You've always known this.)
—if you do all that, it will be enough.
It has to be.
Your heel hits the last target, but you overextend, and go down hard. For a moment all you can do is breathe and think, Sloppy.
"Round complete," says FILSS. "Four point five increase in efficiency."
You get to your feet, but your vision is swimming. You nearly say Run it again, but your breath rasps in your throat, and you can stop now, can't you? For tonight. You're down to nine seconds, and it's not enough, it won't beat Tex, but it's better. You can go to sleep, give in to this weight dragging at your bones, and you'll get up at 4 AM tomorrow and practice again.
Tomorrow you'll be enough. You have to be, Carolina.
On your way out, you finally glance up.
York is gone.
You think, Good riddance, but you're already climbing the steps up to the observation room. Because York is York, and you know he won't give up, so if he's not slouched in the chair, then—
"Hey there, Carolina."
He's sitting on the floor, his back against one of the table legs, one hand covering the bad eye and most of the good one. His face is screwed up in pain, but his voice is light and breezy. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like—ow."
You give your armored foot a good extra shove into his side before you pull it back.
"If your eyes are strained, you should be resting in your room," you tell him.
"No," he says. "No, I'm just . . . dazzled by your radiance."
It's the same kind of idiotic line he's used on you a hundred times before, and you always laughed and you smiled and you were the kind of person who couldn't beat Tex. Next he'll probably to tell you to relax.
"Goddamnit, York, is this some kind of guilt trip—"
Delta appears by York's shoulder, his green glow bright in the dim room.
"I do not believe Agent York has the psychosocial skills necessary for such a ploy."
"Aw, come on, D. Help me out here."
"I have just assured Agent Carolina that you are not duplicitous. I believe that qualifies as assistance."
York lets out an annoyed little huff, and you're almost tempted to laugh. The two of them deserve each other.
"All right, soldier," you tell him. "Get up. You're not even supposed to be here."
He tries a grin. "Technically, neither are you."
The Director has lots of rules about when and where and how his agents are allowed to train. The trick is knowing which ones he wants you to break.
"I didn't ask you to watch me practice," you say, but the words come out weak. Because you never asked, and he always came to watch. It's what you used to like about him.
"I'm not watching you," he says cheerfully. "I'm . . . admiring this beautiful wall panel."
"Really."
The look he slants up at you from his good eye is not as cocksure as usual. "And it would make my evening if you would sit down and enjoy looking at it with me.”
The memory hits you like a thumb stabbing into a nerve center: a late night in the rec room, sitting by York, watching the lights on the crooked plastic Christmas tree that North had scrounged up. It would make my Christmas, he had said, and you sat down beside him. You were happy, beside him.
Everything was easier back then. York had lost his eye but he hadn't gotten Delta yet—nobody fought about who had AI and who didn't—and Tex was a bitch but she hadn't killed one of your teammates.
CT was already a traitor then. If you hadn't been so goddamned weak then, things might not be like this now.
But you're very tired, and York has always been your weakness. Maybe sometime soon you'll root him out, but for now . . .
For now, you pull the helmet off your head. You sit down beside York, and he leans against your shoulder like power armor is as comfortable as a pillow. Delta hovers between the two of you, so close you could curl your fingers and touch him.
"Ten minutes," you tell York.
"Yes, boss," he says.
This is what you'll remember, years later: that he waited for you that night because he didn't know what else to do. That he trusted you as long as he could. That you really did trust him once, that what you had was real while it lasted. You'll remember, I understand why she did what she did.
(And one evening on a planet called Chorus, you'll sit in front of a Christmas tree with two teams you've made your own bickering over eggnog. You'll remember all these moments, all the times York's head rested against your shoulder, and your tears won't be entirely sad.)
This is what you'll remember tomorrow: CT's blood on the floor. Better luck next time, Carolina. Numbers changing on the board, and never the right ones. I'll do whatever it takes. You've given me everything.
(York isn't part of your tomorrow, Carolina.)
This is what you know, here in this moment: York's breathing, soft and steady. Delta's green glow, reflected faintly off the floor. Three bolts in the wall panel. Your own heartbeat, slowing down.
(Right now, you're at peace.)
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