#nick went so hard on this track | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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hey!! can i please order a blueberry muffin with an espresso shot and maybe a vodka shot on the side, served by danny ricc? thanks!! x

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu! there is something for everyone and i love getting new orders! i am currently hard at work trying to get through all the current ones! as for this one, i have gotten a few for ricciardo and i've been looking to write him more so thank you for your order!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dirty talking, sleepy but rough sex, desperate!daniel

the summer break felt good. you were exhausted, so you could only imagine what your boyfriend of the last few years was feeling. the back to backs was wearing him down so it was nice just to be sprawled out in his apartment in monaco.

daniel's strong arm draped over you as you stayed snuggled up next to him. the sun shined through the large window and you two stayed tangled up in one another.

you opened your eyes a little at the feeling of the sun against your face. you then sighed and rolled over to face your lover. soft kisses on his cheeks slowly woke him up.

"happy saturday, my love." you said.

he smiled a little, "happy saturday, first saturday we've had together in a while." if he wasn't racing then he was practicing for racing or traveling. there had been very few moments since the season started where you two simply existed in each other's presence.

it was comforting, it felt like home.

he went in for a kiss on the lips purely by instinct, he sighed contently when your lips pressed against his. he kept those arms wrapped around you tightly as you both laid in bed.

he kissed at your face more and you melted into his touch. your eyes went wide for a moment as he put you on your back and looked down at you. you could see the tinge of pink across his cheeks and he chuckled a little. "still look as beautiful as ever. even with bed head." he rubbed his morning hard on against your front.

you made a small noise and felt a curl of pleasure in your gut. you looked up at your lover and smiled, "i mean you're alright. the morning breath is a bit much." then laughed when daniel started to tickle you.

"i want to make up for all the times we were apart. with you at work and me on the track." he knew very well that he made enough that you would never have to work again, but you were determined to be a productive member of society. but, sometimes he wished he could take you away to the track and have his good luck charm there all the time.

you reached up for him and started to take his t-shirt off. the sight of his bare chest made something grow warm inside of you. it was like every time you saw him, even with the nicks and bruises from racing. he was still so painfully hot.

you got your head up on the pillows and got off your sleeping shorts. it had been so hot in the city that you two were basically sleeping in your underwear most nights.

he got his own shorts off and rubbed his underwear clad cock up against your stomach, pre-cum staining the front of his briefs. he groaned, "were you always this beautiful, i mean, you always were beautiful. but there's something about you right now that is just getting me so turned on."

you chuckled, "i think you're just half asleep, my dear. how about once i tame the rat's nest of my hair.

"nah, nah." he leaned in closer, and worked to get his cock out of his underwear, "i like the rat's nest. my sleepy baby wanting to get fucked out." he planted a kiss on your cheek, "i don't think it'll fit. i think my girl's cunt is too small."

you whined, "c'mon, danny." you rolled your hips and little to entice him. and it made the blood all rush to daniel's cock, you noticed it and looked up at him with such a sweet expression, "if you don't fuck me, no one else will. because i only want you, so it's not fair if you don't fuck me."

daniel felt a pain in his chest and his cock bob. he swallowed and said, "that's what i like to hear, babe." he stroked his cock a little bit and eyed your naked form. stripped of all clothes now, and so beautiful.

he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his exposed cock up against your wet slit. there was something about having sex so early in the morning, with nothing else on the schedule. just the two of you.

he groaned a little bit, "this is all mine." daniel's dirty talk was something else. as he rubbed up against you, his tongue went wild, "so pretty under me, letting me fuck you so early in the morning. you're such a good girl for me. you are meant for me, and only me."

you felt the pleasure pump through your body. you grit your teeth for a moment as you felt him slip his cock into you. despite his initial remark, it did fit.

he moved against you slowly, he found his heartbeat in his ears as he rocked against you. he could feel the heat of pleasure in his head as he moved against you. you were just so painfully good under him.

his bulkier frame crowded your space, it made you feel small against him. he loved the feeling however, you were so sweet under him. painfully adorable in a way that he couldn't fully put into words. all he knew was that he wanted you, he yearned for you so badly that he didn't know what else he could besides bury his cock into you with a quickened pace.

he had you pressed further into the bed as he held you by the hips. he groaned, those big hands on your soft skin, moving you to his liking as his cock bullied against your sweet, slick pussy.

"i love you." he said as he swallowed back his pleasure.

you looked up at him, your eyes a little hooded from the sleep and pleasure. your cheeks felt hot as you said, "i love you too, please, danny. i need you."

he chuckled, "don't worry, babe. you got me, you got me until the day we die. you're my forever." he kissed at your face, feeling the heat pool in his gut as he moved against you.

the feeling between you two was hot as the two of you fucked in the morning light. you whimpered a little and felt the pleasure in your brain.

his strokes were rough as he fucked you on the bed. you held onto the covers tightly as he pushed his cock as far it could reach. and even that was deep enough for you. he leaned in to kiss you passionately as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

his strokes were rough and they made you see stars. he loved when he bullied his cock into your pussy. the sight of you was beautiful when he pleasured you. he tensed his jaw for a moment before he said, "you're so painfully hot, babe. look at you, all needy under me."

you whimpered, "please, danny."

he chuckled, "i've got you, babe. fuck, you feel so good under me. right where you belong."

his words made you flushed as he continued to move. you felt the heat of orgasm through your system.

"fuckin' hell, danny!" you whined as you arched your back a little.

he picked up the pace and watched your grip onto the covers under your back. he admired the sight of your nude body under him. every curve, mole and mark was just beautiful to him. it made the blood thump in his ears as he kept his cock buried in you.

he swallowed and felt a shiver run through his body as he continued to thrust up against you. it was music to your ears, when you let out a sweet moan as you climaxed. his kept his gaze on him as he panted wildly.

"so beautiful."

"i love you." you panted.

he chuckled, "i love you too." then quickened his pace to meet his own orgasm. his cock buried as deep as it would go as he fucked you into the bed you shared. his pace was rougher, and his tongue felt looser as he said, "i only want ya, no one else can have you while i'm still alive. you're my girl, my one and only. from those pretty eyes to your prettier cunt. the way it takes me so well." he gasped before he came inside of your sweet slick pussy.

he slowed down his pace to a stop and kept his cock inside of you. he was still pretty hard, his heart was thumping heavily in his chest. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, that was one way to wake up.

you laid there, blissed out under him. he licked his lips at the sight of you and felt his cock twitch inside of you. he smiled down at you before he laid you on your side to get comfortable back into bed.

he slotted himself behind you and spread your legs. he sank his cock in once more from behind. not to rut against you, but to just hold you. to be comfortable next to you. he wanted to feel close to his woman, his beautiful light in his life.

while you both laid in bed, so intimately close, the sun shined down on both of you. you two were perfect for one another. <3

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sweetshuga · 1 month ago

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can u do one where mean!Matt and popular! Y/N get hi-gh and end up being freaky just for the other 2 to walk in saying “the bread’s ready” or something else chaotic like that? Js some humorous smut

𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏.ᐟ𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 ───~𓆩♡𓆪~─── 𝑷𝒐𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Matt’s hands roamed over your body as you two shared a heated kiss, all rational thoughts were out the window after the blunt kicked in. The first few hits weren’t that bad, made you feel a bit fuzzy. You and Matt made small talks while waiting for the effects of the blunt, and after the 5th drag everything went south. You don’t even remember how you ended up on Mat’s lap, grinding your hips against the growing bulge in his pants. Your mind was a haze, fogged by the drug in your system. Soft moans exited your parted lips, your head thrown back now that Matt’s lips trailed down your neck.

His hands travelled down and grasped your ass, pulling you down on him all while rolling his own hips, making you grind harder against him. The delicious friction made your eyes shut and you bit your lips, trying not to make too much noise since Chris and Nick were just a few dozen feet away in the living room. Your fogged head tried to remember if you had locked the door when you first entered his room, but your mind proved to have gone dumb. "Matt, ’s the door locke—" your own yelp cut you off, he had slapped your ass. Matt had an annoyed look on his face, his eyes bloodshot and looking unfocused. He smacked your clothed ass again, harder this time—making you jump.

"Focus," he groaned out in a deeper tone of voice than usual. That sent shudders through your whole body. You didn’t say anything more as you squirmed on his lap, your neck getting attacked by Matt again. Just as you rolled your hips in an awfully nice way that sent pleasure coursing through both of you, moans were on the tip of your tongues when the door burst open and Chris’ cheerful voice echoed in the otherwise quiet room. "Look! Nick actually didn’t burn the cookies this time..." His voice trailed off and grew quiet when he took in the sight of you straddling Matt with his hands all over you.

Nick mumbled something incoherently and walked in after him, only to stop in his tracks just beside Chris. "What the fuck?" Nick and Chris exchanged a look before looking back at you two. "Hey, Matt!" Chris yelled, catching the attention of the brunette under you as he looked up with annoyance at the source of the sound, his movements more sluggish due to the blunt. Then it clicked, the compromising situation, his high state and a light blush creeped up his face as his eyes widened and mouth hung open.

He quickly pushed you off his lap and looked at his brothers in horror. You burst out laughing as your back hit the mattress, the sound was so infectious that it broke any lingering tension, causing the other two to chuckle along at the absurdity of the situation while Matt looked thoroughly embarrassed. You patted the side of his leg, "c’mon don’t look too embarrassed," he glared at you before burying his face in his hands. Groaning as he mumbled a few profanities along with a quiet, "Why did they have to interrupt us?" He was still painfully hard, and you seemed to be having too much fun to think about his situation.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒘𝒄. 551

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. English is not my first language! I wrote this while I was half asleep so I apologise if there're any typos or anything like that.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao

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am-i-interrupting · 7 days ago

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reminding you to write one shït about viktor helping me shower

Washed Away Like Soap Suds

Thank you for your services.

The day had been. . . a day for certain. It had been long and treacherous.

Your hand had several cuts. One could blame it upon being in the kitchen all day. However, it wasn’t sheer unlucky circumstances which had caused the blades you’d wielded to slip. No, instead it was your shaking hand and racing hard and inability to focus.

You’d been distracted all day. More accurately, you’d been extraordinarily stressed.

Your best friend was in the hospital. Had been all day. You were in the kitchen. Had been all day. The reason you weren’t there with her was purely because her parents and sister took priority in visiting rights.

The countertops were filled with baked treats. Your started the day off with cookies. Then bread. After that came the beignets, the pie (completely homemade including the crust), the danishes. The counter was well covered.

Just like your hand. The first nick came when you were making slices in the bread before you let it rise for a second time. The second when you were peeling the apples for the pie and the third soon after when you were slicing those same apples. The fourth came from the slicing of strawberries for the danishes.

You were placing the danishes onto a plate when Viktor placed his book down. He uncrossed his legs to stand. The pitter patter sound of his footsteps and cane were behind you before long.

His cane came into view as it was placed against the counter. His arms wrapped around your waist and his hands came to rest at your hips.

“As much as I support you opening up a bakery, I don’t believe we have the space,” he said.

You didn’t respond. Thoughts racing still. The spatula slipped between the pan and danish. You spun the plate so a bare spot was closer. Your finger lined with the back of the danish and you pushed it onto the plate. Your mind and body not registering the heat.

Viktor’s nose nuzzled against your temple. “My love,” he said softly, “you need rest.”

With the last danish on the plate, the full effect of your stress was visible through your shaking hands.

You laughed, sarcastic and devoid of true humor, “That’s not gonna happen.”

“If not your mind, then your body,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

His hands, steady and stable, covered your own. He picked up his cane and led you away from the kitchen. You let yourself be guided.

Your mind was fogged over and dreary like an abandoned railway station. However, it also raced like a train teetering off the tracks. An odd combination of very little coherent thoughts that led way to a mess of emotions.

The bathroom is where you were led. Viktor say you down atop the toilet lid.

He knelt to grab a towel. It was placed on the rack. He sidestepped the bathtub and went instead to the shower. He turned the knobs. The water began pouring down.

Propping himself up on the rim of the tub, Viktor’s hands slipped beneath your shirt. He pulled it up and over your head. His fingers undid the button of your pants and down they came as well with your underwear.

“Sit,” he said as his hands came to your shoulders.

You were guided to a seated position in the shower floor. Water just barely missed your face.

It wasn’t long before Viktor joined you, slightly elevated as he sat on the mounted shower seat. He grabbed the shower head and brought it down.

Your back pressed against the front of his legs as he washed himself off first. A very quick, brief process.

His hands went to your scalp. He massaged it causing the hair to bunch up and allowing the water to better penetrate. The water was warm in contrast to the chilled air.

Fingernails brushed against your scalp, just shy of scratching but he was gentle.

“Hold.”

Your fingers wrapped around the neck of the shower head on autopilot.

There was a click of a bottle opening, a small squirt of liquid. Your scalp, just heated seconds earlier, cooled as shampoo was lathered in your hair. You could hear the bubbles as they formed and popped.

A pressure was applied at the nape of your neck. You leaned into the touch. Tears formed in your eyes as tension began to relax. A tension you’d been holding onto for the past twenty-four hours.

Suds popped against your skin as Viktor used the lather to move onto your shoulders. Your lips curled up and down as your nose burned. A looseness coming to you that you felt you shouldn’t be having, not now, but fuck was nice.

Your head fell back into Viktor’s lap. Your eyes closed. You could feel the wetness which was not from the shower, roll down your cheeks. He must have noticed but made no remark.

He bent over. You could feel his torso push slightly against your hair. The shower head was taken from your grasp.

Water poured over your scalp. The popping bubbles washed away. The shower head was once again in your hands.

Another cap opened and it was followed by the sound of a thick congealed substance being spread across two hands. Your head was tilted a bit forward off Viktor’s thighs. Your hair was scrunched up from the bottom all the way to where your hair follicles began in sections.

A third cap was opened and more bubbles sounded as they formed and popped. Soon a net sponge was moving across your skin. It was soft and gentle. The barest of touches, leaving clouds that evaporated away in its wake.

Viktor grabbed the shower head once more. The sponge was washed off and set back into its place. Then your body followed. The water like rain that washed and cleansed you.

A knob was turned and the water went cool. A stark contrast to the warmth but not an unwelcome one. The conditioner was washed from your hair. Then the water went warm once more.

Two taps to your shoulder. You moved your body off of Viktor.

“I will be back,” he said as he reached for a towel.

His footsteps were pattering against the floor, sopping and dripping. Then he was gone.

You were left in the water. On the floor you watched as suds spun around the drain. They slowed as they neared it. Slowly they either slunk down the drain or popped before they had the chance.

Footsteps. The door to the shower slid open. The water was switched off. A towel was draped around your shoulders.

Viktor sat with you on shower floor. The outer side of his towel got wet as it soaked the remaining water.

He used your towel to dry you. His hand cupped your cheek when he was done. His thumb rubbed away a tear.

“How about you take some melatonin, we go to bed, I’ll read to you until you fall asleep, and in the morning we go back to the hospital and see if she’s accepting visitors?”

You looked at Viktor and for the first time all day you felt like you could see him. His hair was dripping. Longer and now halfway to his shoulders. His angles harsh but the curves in his lips, his ears, his moles so soft. His golden eyes were tainted with soft worry, creases near them to show it.

You felt your lips spread and your nostrils flare as hot tears fell down your face. Your head fell forward and landed on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around you. No words were needed. Nothing could be said.

His hands were steady against your back. Your hands still shook were they lay near his hip.

“Dr. Emerson is wonderful at her job,” Viktor assured you. “If anything were to go wrong, her years of experience would not lead her astray.”

That was more comforting. More comforting than the words you’d gotten from your friend’s family the multiple times you went to the hospital to check in.

She’s alright.

You’re being overdramatic. You’re not the one getting operated on.

You should be thankful you’re not allowed to go back. At least this way you don’t have to keep up with what’s going on.

“Here, drink.”

A cup was placed in your hands. It was cold to the touch. You looked down at the water inside. The ice clanked against each other and the interior.

You brought it to your lips. A cool trail was traveled through your body. It started inside your mouth and went down your throat. You could feel it go down behind your breast plate and past your heart and lungs until it stopped in your stomach.

It helped bring down your racing heart.

There was a harsh click. It was followed by the sound of a cap unscrewing. Viktor held out the melatonin bottle to you.

You stared at it blankly for a moment and then two. You reached into the bottle and pulled out two gummies. Viktor raised an eyebrow for a moment before it blinked away off his face.

Normally you only took one. However, you knew if you didn’t get a higher dose you’d worry yourself through it then stay up all night.

You popped them into your mouth and slowly chewed. The strawberry flavor a nice moment of grounding. You swallowed and your ears popped.

Viktor plucked the cup from your hands and stood. “I’ll be waiting for you in bed whenever you’re ready.”

You stayed on the floor for several, long minutes. At least, it felt long and it felt like minutes. You weren’t entire sure though.

You pushed yourself up. Your body moved by itself through the motions of brushing your teeth and blowing your nose. It also moved by itself out of the bathroom and into the bed.

Your face hit the blankets. Your towel was still wrapped around you. You pulled the covers back and shrugged off the towel. No energy or will left in you to put on clothes.

Arms wrapped around Viktor’s torso. Your ear covered his heart. It was steady and consistent. There was a background rumble coming from his voice.

“Thank you,” you blurted out before the thought of even saying something crossed your mind.

Viktor’s reading came to a halt. “Of course,” he said like it was simple, like it was nothing.

He continued reading as your eyelids grew heavy.

#this is very self indulgent #and kind of specific #but hey it’s my fic #and I need to process my emotions somehow #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane x you

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incendiobrock · 9 months ago

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The Driskill Hotel {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader x bf!Chris go to Austin, Texas with Matt and Nick to film a video for Sam and Colby's channel at the Driskill Hotel. The reader is very sensitive to the supernatural and gets convinced to do the elevator ritual alone... What could possibly go wrong? ;)

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, ghostly encounters, fear of elevators, language, FLUFFFFF

A/N: I know this video is from awhile ago but I've had this idea and couldn't stop thinking about it. I started my page with imagines like this for Colby x reader and so I wanted to throw it back to my roots and make a Chris x reader (because I'm a die hard Chris girl)

Part 2??

You had been a fan of Sam and Colby for years, enjoying their content and being fascinated with their supernatural findings. There was always a part of you that was convinced you had a special connection with the supernatural, feeling extremely vulnerable and tethered to their world. Maybe it was due to your empathic nature, or maybe you were a undiscovered medium that hadn’t tapped into your powers.

You never tapped into your "abilities" because you were scared of what could possibly come from speaking to the dead. But when Nick, Matt, and Chris (and yourself) got asked to join in for an XPLR video on Sam and Colby's channel, you all knew that you couldn't pass it down. This is what led you all to Austin, Texas where the historic, haunted, Driskill Hotel was located.

The night had started somewhat normal, you all walked through the hotel with a tour guide where she explained the history of the building as well as the ghost inhabitants. Throughout the tour you would catch glimpses of shadow figures on the wall, hearing inaudible voices, and being extra sensitive to smells like cigar smoke and roses. The fear was definitely building inside of you when you observed that none of the rest of the group seemed to be experiencing the same things you were. You did your best to hold it together, knowing the triplets were excited to be included in the video, and not wanting to ruin your own experience of an inner fangirl being on an XPLR trip.

As the tour wrapped up and the night went on, Sam and Colby began to lead the investigation portion of their video. You stayed glued to Chris' side, feeling comfort in his presence, even with everything going on around you. Chris held an EMF reader in his left hand as his right hand was busy interlocking your fingers, running his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. He couldn't tell if you were nervous or if you were just trying to hone in on filming the video since you were all a guest to Sam and Colby's channel.

You and Chris stayed slightly behind the group as you made your way over to the elevators on the main lobby for the next part of the video, the elevator ritual. The elevators had already been acting up earlier in the night, not wanting to take you guys up to the floor you had requested. Elevators weren't necessarily your favorite inventions, a slight irrational fear of being stuck in one or one falling with you inside.

"Matt, the ghosts seem to really like you. Maybe you should be the one to do the ritual." You heard Sam say, observing how the EMF in Matt's hand continued to light up to red as they crossed through the grand lobby. As you passed by the receptionist desk you saw the figure of a tall man dart across the wall, making you subconsciously squeeze Chris' hand out of fright. "What's up baby? You okay?" Chris asked softly, pausing in his tracks to check up on you.

"Did you see that?" You asked him back, hoping that maybe you weren't going as crazy as you thought you were. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around the rotunda, trying to see whatever it was you were talking about. "See what?"

You let out a shaky breath, your palms becoming clammy as all the supernatural sensitivity was beginning to catch up to you. The hand that was holding onto Chris' disconnected as you rubbed the sweat on your pants, "I keep seeing shadows on the walls..." Chris frowns at your reply, wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. His lips pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, "I won't let anything hurt you, I promise."

"Chris! Y/n! You guys coming?" Colby asked, staring at you two from down the hall where they had stopped in front of the elevators. "Yeah we're coming, sorry!" Chris responded, gently pulling away from the hug and instantly wrapping his hand back in yours. As you stood in front of the elevator doors Sam explained to the camera, and to all of you, what the elevator ritual would consist of.

"y/n, will you do the honors?" Sam questioned, pulling your out of your trance and causing your jaw to drop open. "Huh? What?" You stuttered, not registering what he had elected you to do for this ritual.

"Do you want to do the ritual?" He rephrased, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. Your body tensed at the thought, not only did elevators terrify you, but you had already been experiencing paranormal things the whole night. "You don't have to if you don't want." Chris said, breaking the short silence that filled the room, knowing you were already on edge and trying to stand up for you in case you were wary about doing it. "Uh, yeah, I think I could do it... I would just need to write down the order of the floors." You said, uncertainty filling your voice.

"Awesome! I'll text it to you." Sam said, beginning to type up a message to send to your phone. A lump began to form in your throat as you awaited the notification being sent to you. Chris gently rubbed your lower back, doing his best to calm your anxiety without bringing too much attention to your state, understanding that you didn't like when others were aware of your intimate emotions. Your phone vibrated in your hand, looking down to see the message;

12:00AM

Sam: 4, 2, 6, 2, 10, 5, 1

"Okay it's exactly midnight, you have to start now." Colby said, pressing the up button and watching the elevator door open. You took the camera from him, not saying a word as you faced the elevator. You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no way you could back out of this now. Stepping into the elevator you instantly felt chills run up your spine.

"Now remember, when you get to the fifth floor a lady might join you. If she does then when you try to come back down to the lobby the elevator will actually go up to the tenth floor, that's how we will know it worked. If it comes back down to one then the lady didn't enter and the ritual failed." Sam said, reminding you and the audience how things were supposed to go.

Shakily, your finger made its way up to press the number four, officially beginning the ritual. The door slowly shut in front of you, keeping eye contact with Chris until you couldn't anymore. The elevator rose and the door opened, nobody was there. Floor two, nothing.

Sixth floor.

Second floor, again.

Tenth floor.

Then finally, the fifth floor. Your breath caught in your throat as the elevator door opened unusually slow, revealing an empty hallway. 'This is just a game', 'It's not real', you tried reminding yourself as your heart beat uncontrollably inside your chest. You waited for a couple seconds before pressing the button for the first floor, praying that this stupid ritual hadn't actually worked. The doors shut and the elevator began to descend back to the first floor, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "I guess the ritual failed guys," You lightly giggled talking into the camera, feeling relief wash over your whole body.

"Woah!" You yelped, almost dropping the camera as the elevator slightly dropped, the lights inside flickering. The screen above the door signaling that you were on the third floor. Before you knew it the elevator came to a halt, stopping dead in its tracks on the third floor.

"What? Oh no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered, panic rising inside of you as you dropped the camera to the floor and made your way to the control panel. You smashed the button for the first floor over and over again, hoping the elevator would start to move again. Nothing was happening however, the buttons not even lighting up when you pressed them. You began to reach into your back pocket for your phone, pulling it out to call Chris.

The dial tone played as you dropped to the floor in a seated position, legs shaking beneath you. After three rings Chris' voice filled your left ear, "Hey babe, why did you stop on the third floor? We were waiting for you to come back down-" He said quickly before you cut him off.

"Chris! The elevator is stuck! I don't know what to do, I'm freaking the fuck out!" Your breath became labored as you heaved in and out, feeling like no matter how much air you inhaled it wasn't reaching your lungs correctly. "Woah, woah. Okay, calm down please! Just breath alright? Listen to my breathing!" Chris instructed, knowing you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He let out slow, steady breaths of air while your vision began to blur with tears. Your head started to heat up and your ears began to ring, "I-I can't Chris... I can't breathe!" You huffed, clenching your hand over your aching heart.

"The elevators stuck, somebody go try and find someone to help!" You faintly heard Chris yell to the other boys, holding the phone away from his ear so it wasn't directed to you. "Yes you can, I believe in you babe. Nick is going to get some help, okay? Just hang in there." He continued to comfort you through the phone, coaching your breath back to normal as Nick found an employee. After five minutes, which felt like an eternity to you, the elevator doors where being pried open. The elevator had stopped just barely off center to the second floor, making the door inoperable on your side.

When the doors were finally opened you couldn't help but let the tears you had been containing fall, all the overwhelming fear catching up to your eyes. The employee held out a hand for you as you jumped the three foot distance onto the second floor lobby, landing slightly unsteady as the tears blurred your vision. Chris rushed over to you, faster than you had ever seen him move before, pulling you deep into his embrace.

"There, there, I got you. I got you, don't worry." He said, running his big hand through your hair. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared that he might disappear if you didn't hold him close. Tears stained his jacket sleeve as you buried your head into his shoulder. You both stayed like that for awhile, the others watching as you crumbled into Chris' arms.

Once you had finally cooled down, you all sat on some couches that were in the main lobby. You drank some water that Nick had brought for you as you stayed by Chris' side, his arm wrapped over your shoulders. "Y/n, I am so so sorry that the elevator got stuck. I had no idea that was going to happen and I feel horrible. I didn't realize you were scared of elevators." Sam apologized to you, feeling guilty that he had put you in this position in the first place.

"Sam, it's not your fault! How would you have known the elevator was going to get stuck?" You said sincerely, appreciating his apology even though he had nothing to do with the unfortunate situation.

"If you guys need to call it a night and go back to your hotel, we completely understand." Colby said, offering to end the night where it was instead of finishing out the investigation. "No, it's okay. I'm good now, really. There's no need to scrap the rest of the video just because of me." You reassured, wanting the boys to finish the video they had put so much effort into already.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked you.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now who's ready for the Estes Method?"

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surielstea · 7 months ago

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Ruined Ice

Pairing: hockey!Azriel x figure skater!Reader (fem)

Summary: Az shows up early for practice and catches reader in the middle of her program, rutting up the fresh ice.

Warnings: cursing | name calling | fluff

A/N: Guys I know nothing about hockey or figure skating so please don’t come for me if some of this is wrong lmao 😭

2.3k words

The blades on the bottoms of my skates could cut through steel they were so sharp. I had made the mistake of running my thumb pad across the toepick and nicked my skin, no bigger than a paper cut but I barely even touched the metal before blood began to bead at where it had made contact.

My mood, however, was improved to its full extent when I stepped onto the ice and realized it was untouched.

I beam wildly as I begin to glide on my smooth blades around the rink, beginning my warm-ups and leaving light trails with every move I make.

Warming up took a quarter of my rented time in the rink, and the next two quarters were spent practicing my program. The state tournament was close, and approaching all too fast. My coach wasn’t able to make it tonight, yet he practically ordered me to practice anyway. I wasn't complaining, well I had been, but on this fresh ice with the cold wind nipping at my cheeks in an empty rink, I had never been more at peace.

That was the case, at least until the Hockey Players began showing up for their practices. I still had fifteen minutes left of ice time but none other than the infamous Azriel Teller was lacing up his skates on the sidelines, staring at me as I went through my routine, doing my best to ignore his gaze.

It was hard though, the man was so damned observant and I swore I could feel his eyes tracking me across the ice.

I finish my routine in my final pose, heavy breaths escaping me as I let the stance fall and I go back to my phone on the side of the wall where I can restart my music.

My phone that happened to be right in front of Azriel.

I ignored his stare and kept my eyes on the wall, making sure to go slow, knowing my freshly sharpened skates would force me straight into the wall if I went any faster.

I grab my phone with cold hands but before I even get the chance to unlock it, the male in front of me speaks up.

"You're ruining the ice," He hums and I look up from my phone, glaring at him, silently asking him if he was serious.

"Your whole team ruts up the ice every chance you get, don't start," I wave him off, scrolling through my phone to find a song to cool down to since my ice time was coming to an end.

"We rut the ice? You and your fancy twirls practically make holes straight through," He defends and I wince because I knew he was right. Especially since my skates were extra sharp tonight.

"It's not my fault you can't evade them like some bad skater," I taunt, picking a song and letting it blast over the speakers to drown him out as I skate away.

Calling Azriel a bad skater was absurd, he must've been the fastest on the ice when compared to the rest of his team, not to mention his accuracy when it came to scoring goals was outmatched. I had heard from Feyre— my best friend who was dating the team captain, that Azriel was the brains for the whole team as well, always the one planning the strategic plays, but apparently, he wasn't allowed to be a captain since he got into one too many fights during his first season.

When my cooldown music ended, mostly everyone else on the Velaris Bats had shown up for practice, staring at me as I stretched my leg up beside my head like I was an animal in the zoo. I still had five minutes left of ice time, so I made sure Azriel was watching when I practiced doing my ‘fancy twirls’, the exercise had exhausted me but it was worth it to see the look of silent rage on his face.

I continued to grin, using him as my spot as I whipped around in the air and landed gracefully down onto the ice, at such an angle that it left a horrid chip in the ice I'd have to avoid for the rest of my routine.

I spot some of the other boys noticing this as well, scowls on their faces as I give them a wink before they rush off to what I assume is the locker room to get their equipment.

Again, leaving only Azriel and I. He steps onto the ice before my time is up and I glide past him with a smirk and he returns it, something in his gaze telling me he knew something I didn't.

I brush it off and continue with my spins and jumps.

I had just come out of a lutz with enough momentum to push a boulder down a hill when suddenly all the lights in the rink shut off. I freeze, my legs buckling at the sudden change, my eyes not used to the atmosphere and before I know it I'm speeding towards a wall, incapable of scrambling to a stop on my skates that were far too sharp.

I shrieked, attempting to pivot on my toepick but it only sent me tumbling forward. I blanch at the realization that I was about to slam into the ice over such an amateur move.

But before I make contact with the frozen ground, hands come to my waist and pull me away from my sudden doom. I gasped, catching my breath as a figure steadied me, gliding along the ice along with me until I managed to come to a stop.

I look up to my savior only to find Azriel standing in front of me, his hands still on my waist as if we were pair skaters. Why was he so effortlessly graceful in the rink?

"Thanks," I mutter, my skates making a crisp sound as they halt against the ice.

"Don't thank me, it was my teammates who turned off the lights," He said, looking down at me, his hands still on my waist as we stood in the center of the rink with the lights shut off.

With the absence of his pads, I could feed his abdomen pressed to my chest, I had been panting from my restless jumps but he hadn't seemed affected when he saved me, like he knew I'd panic.

"Still, I can't afford to get any more bruises," I say through heavy breaths. He cracks a smile.

"I know the feeling," He hums, making no move to let go of my waist, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't heavily supporting my tired limbs at the moment.

"Usually I'm better at stopping, I just got my blades sharpened," I explain and he arches a brow, his gaze almost amused.

"You don't have to make excuses, Princess, you could just admit you wanted to be in my arms," He taunts and I roll my eyes, pushing him away to which he glides back.

"Quit calling me that," I toss at him as I slowly make my way off the ice, returning to the solid ground as I put on the guards over the blades of my skates. Snow Princess had been my stage name when I was younger, it was my mom's choice, and I had been happy with it at the time, Azriel liked to remind me of it every waking moment he saw me, in fact, I couldn't remember the last time he called me by my actual name.

"Not in a million years, Princess," He continues his teasing and I huff, untying my laces and shucking my blades off, favoring a pair of tennis shoes that felt like walking on clouds compared to the tightness of my skates.

The lights turn back on and I look out at the rink, seeing just how much damage I did with my turns. I smile in triumph as I watch Azriel avoid the chips in the ice as he practically soars throughout the rink.

The rest of the players came out onto the ice only a moment later while I shrugged my coat on, losing interest in the others once it wasn’t just Azriel. They had all pushed him off the rink, telling him to hurry up and change so they could start practice already.

I ignore their raucous laughter and crude words as I make my way into the locker rooms, eager to get my stuff and then go home. I could already feel my legs aching with soreness and it's barely been a few minutes off the ice.

I opened my locker just as Azriel strolled in.

I hadn't known his locker had been situated directly next to mine until he opened it and took out all his pads and equipment, then, right then and there to my utter shock he began changing right in front of me.

"You know there's changing rooms, right?" I avoid looking at him, my eyes pinned straight to my locker as I clean it out, stuffing things into my bag.

"I'm in a rush," He said and I could see him shrug from my periphery. "I was too busy saving you from the wall," He remarks and I whirl to face him, then immediately regretting it because he was still shirtless.

"You didn't have to do that," I wished my words came out a little more sour but instead they trailed off, similar to how my eyes dipped from his face to his exposed skin, the cut of his abdomen, the ripples of muscle in his arms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When my eyes meet his again, I'm also met with a stupid smirk on his lips. "Seems like you wanted me too," He teases, leaning dauntingly closer. I swallow thickly. He was so damned near I could practically feel the heat from his skin. "Seems like you want a lot more from me than just my arms wrapped around you," His gaze was entirely predatory. I swallowed thickly, heat staining my cheeks and I knew that I was blushing. "Do you want to wrap around something else?" He arched a brow and I pushed him away, my hands feeling like they were burning the moment they touched his bare skin but he stumbled back and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"You're such an asshole," I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"That wasn't a no, Princess," He crooned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" I frown. I could leave if I wanted to, I have my bag, I was ready. But he knew I'd rather sit here and argue with him than go home.

"I thought I told you no?" He retorts, taking a long stride forward and pinning me between him and the lockers. "It suits you," He surmised. "A stuck-up, prudish, princess," He leans closer with every word, and by the time he finished speaking his nose was nearly brushing mine. I maintained eye contact, holding my ground.

"I'm not stuck up, and I'm definitely not a prude," I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

"Is that right?" He tilts his head, his voice low. His eyes flick down to my lips, then so leisurely trail back up to my eyes.

"I'm not kissing you," I scoff, I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but now the bastard's smirk was wider.

"I don't remember saying anything about a kiss?" He taunts and I grit my teeth. “Is that what you fantasize about to help you sleep at night?”

"Oh, just shut up already.” I crash my lips onto his.

He immediately reacts to the movement, his arm wraps around my waist while his other cups my jaw, pulling me into him, not wasting a second before we have to pull away for air.

I melt into him, my cold body from the ice immediately heating as my fingers press against his bare abdomen, sliding my hand up his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, slipping to the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, my back pressed against the lockers as my legs wrap around his torso. My arms wrap around the nape of his neck as I taste him deeper, every flick of his tongue over mine sending waves of pleasure down my spine. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," I whisper against his lips.

"I don't care," He confessed, his hands gripping the underside of my thighs tighter.

"Someone could walk in," I argue, but I don't bother pulling away.

"Are you nervous about being seen with me?" He taunts and I hit his shoulder playfully, kissing him deeply as a reply before pulling away a fraction to say,

"You're going to be late," I try to defend but I swear he could barely hear me with how drunk he was on my lips because as soon as I was done speaking his mouth was back on mine and any other words I could conjure were swallowed by his all-consuming kiss.

"You worry too much, Princess," He grumbled.

"Yo, Az!" A familiar voice shouts through the doorway of the locker room, and gods we were lucky that he had me pinned to the wall. "What's taking so long hurry up," Cassian calls, and Azriel slowly pulls away from my lips.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," He retorts and my head slumps back against the lockers while Azriel slowly puts me back down onto my feet.

"You're lucky we didn't get caught," I glare up at him but he only returns it with a smile. He grabs his equipment bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"This," He gestures between me and him. "Isn't over, alright?" He leans in close and I only nod. He pecks my lips before leaving the locker room, the door creaking as it shuts and leaves me standing there utterly speechless.

What the hell just happened? And why did I enjoy every second of it?

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rustedhearts · 4 days ago

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the one where you forget to call boxer!steve when he’s away for a fight and he freaks out (flashback, 1989)…

tags: jealous/possessive!steve (what's new), they're both just egging each other on lol, ending is lame because I just wanted to finish this el oh el.

rolly's blurbs

. • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• °. *₊ ° . ☆ . • ☆ . ° .• . • ☆ . ° .• °.

“this is libby! sorry, i can’t come to the phone right now—“

“fuck.” steve slams the phone back into the cradle and scrapes his nails over his scalp.

it’s the seventh call he’s made tonight. seventh. when the alarm clock on the motel nightstand flashed 8:00, he eagerly turned toward the phone and watched through pulsing, bloodshot eyes—waiting for it to ring.

8:05.

8:10.

8:30.

you never called.

so he called. once, twice, seven fucking times. the third had his blood boiling, but the seventh is sending him up the fucking walls.

steve pushes off the edge of the quilted bed and heads toward the bathroom. the lights are harsh and have an orange hue, and he glares at the bruised and bloodied reflection in the cracked mirror. he didn’t even bother cleaning up after his fight, too excited to speak to you and hear all about your day at the library or about town.

it was the first time you hadn’t called at your agreed time since he left. and now it worried him. did you not want him anymore? did you find someone else while he’s been away? did he do something to upset you? were you with another man right now?

the thought alone has the mirror fogging, and steve blinks hard to clear it. but the anger boiling and bubbling in his chest is harder to make disappear.

the speedstick on the bathroom counter flies across the room and steve barely even remembers throwing it. nor can he recall his knuckles slamming into the tile, but the ache that gathers in them afterwards is enough of a reminder.

his shuddering breaths echo through the bathroom like a cold front.

and then the phone rings. shrilling through the suffocating room at a deafening pitch.

steve’s quick to his feet, snatching the phone from the cradle with fumbling fingers.

“hello—“

“hi, honey. sorry i didn’t—“

he sinks down onto the edge of the bed. “where the fuck have you been?”

a pause buzzes through the phone. in your bedroom back home, you frown down at your knees. still wearing your dress from today, shoes barely shucked off on the carpet.

“sorry, i…holly wanted to grab dinner after work and we…just lost track of time,” you coo. your fingers twist at the ruffled hem of your comforter anxiously.

you hear him huff through his nose. the line buzzes again. your feet are aching beneath you, and as you picture yourself and holly sitting under the dim lighting of the hide away’s sticky, peanut-shelled tables, a warmth comes to your face.

would steve be upset if he knew? if he knew you’d gone to the bar with your friend in only your tiny work dress? you ran your hand over the hem. it was one he likes, at least. pleated, navy blue, buttoned down the front.

“just holly?” he asks.

you nod, nibbling on the skin around your nail. “yeah, just holly. dad’s teaching nick how to drive with my car so holly gave me a ride, and we were hungry so…”

over explaining came easy with steve. it was better to lay it all out at one time than have him question later.

in his motel room, steve bounces his leg so quickly that the bed shrieks.

“okay,” he mumbles, nodding to himself. “okay…was just worried, baby.”

“i’m sorry,” you chirp through the phone. your voice went up real high when you felt bad.

steve scratches at his temple. “s’ okay, baby. uh…is holly there with you?”

he listens to you shuffle for a minute. “um…no? wh—why would she be here?”

he shuffles. a heavy breath crackles through the receiver and you wince.

“i don’t know.”

suspicion hangs heavily between his words. you wrinkle your nose up, the touch on your comforter turning harsh. your nails zip over the pink cotton.

and maybe you're fueled by the vodka cranberries, or the good time with your friend that deflated the moment you picked up the phone. sometimes being with steve felt like turning music off halfway through a song. like reaching to take the next step only to find you're chained back.

"you think i have some guy in my room, steve?" you snarl.

on his hotel bed with the hard springs and faded quilt, steve mirrors your snarling scowl. his teeth scrape the receiver pressed beside his mouth.

"well now i fuckin' do."

"jesus," you scoff. "you're ridiculous—"

"am i?—"

"yeah! you know i'd never do that to you!"

steve grinds his nails into the top of his scalp, buried under the heap of hair. his eyes bounce to the deodorant near the bathroom door, lid cracked off and half broken. another hum fills the silence on the line.

"you really don't trust me?" you're much quieter this time. softer. there's a sleepy defeat in your voice that makes steve squeeze his eyes shut and sigh.

"I don't know," tumbles from his mouth before he can snuff it out with a lie.

you scoff again. "whatever. I went out drinking with holly, is that what you want to hear?"

steve's eyes pop open, narrowed in on the deodorant and the ugly hotel carpet again. "so you lied."

"yeah, so what? so fucking what, steve? you're a thousand miles away, doing god knows what, with god knows who, and i have a life!"

steve rips the phone away from his ear, holding it with a tight fist at his knee. gives it a little shake, veins bulging in his forearm. he can hear you squawking on the line like a peanuts character, muffled and high-pitched. he's seen red many times in his life, but something about this rage is oddly pink. fueled by romance and lust and longing and his ache for you.

love curdles when it intertwines with rage.

"'doing god knows what?'" steve brings the phone back to his ear, pushing to his feet. "then you don't trust me, either! you think I'm out here fuckin' girls like groupies?"

"well, we all knew who you were before me—"

"fuckin—"

steve's first instinct is to throw the phone. but big's already told him they can't afford to replace another one, and then he won't have a way to call you back and finish this. so, he spins sharply on one heel and places a heavy palm against the wallpaper. he doesn't want to break that, either. he can't afford his own anger sometimes.

"i'm glad to hear we have so much faith in each other, sweetheart."

his voice drips with such malice that you actually flinch. back into the pillows, gripping a heart-shaped frilly puff like a teddy bear. some sort of comfort, because despite all your anger-laced words strewn through the telephone, you were throbbing with hurt.

you just missed him. in fact, you spent the whole night whining about it to holly, who plied you with more vodka cranberries in hopes it would fog you up so bad, you'd forget all about steve. it only made you ache for him more.

"well..." you whisper, toying with your bottom lip. if steve were in the room, he'd instantly know what the gesture meant. tears bubbled at your lash line in a warm, stinging assault.

"i'm going to bed, before we both say something we might regret."

"no, don't fuckin' hang up," he groans, collapsing on the corner of the bed again. "you know i'm not fuckin' anyone out here. or anywhere for that matter, jesus."

"well why would you think i am?" the harshness of your voice congeals into something whiny and pathetic.

steve rubs his finger into his eye, leg bouncing again. "i don't know—i-i don't. just...don't even want anyone even lookin' at you. i hate not being right there with you."

his own fist comes sailing down into his thigh. his expression of pain releases with a long huff and a scrunched nose.

"I know. but you know i don't even care about anyone else."

steve bounces his leg a little faster to offset the throbbing in his thigh muscle, swallowing thickly. "y-yeah."

you sigh, sliding down against the pillows. "i'm sorry i lied."

he nods, resting his knuckles on his leg. "I know, baby. just...fuck, you know? want you here."

you smile at that, curling your arm tighter around your pillow. "you miss me, champ?"

steve huffs a chuckle, shaking his head at his lap. "yeah, angel, i miss you."

the statement alone causes you to wriggle and your hand to creep toward the hem of your dress.

"you drive me fuckin' crazy."

that night, you make very good use of the telephone.

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington angst

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theplaid-wearingmoose · 1 year ago

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Save Me~Hiccup x Reader fluff for anon~

Hi! Could you write pov with hiccup and reader, where reader gets captured by Viggo Grimborn and tortures her and the dragon riders are only able to find her after a week or so. And she’s rlly hurt when hiccup sees her. Just a lot of angst and later on fluff. Have a Great Day!

TW: Torture, alcohol mention, some dark!Hiccup

You didn't know how long it had been, how long you had been here. You weren't sure if it had been one day or a whole year. All you knew was pain. Every time someone came in your cell, they brought pain with them. And you didn't know how much more you could take....

The mission had been so simple. Just a scouting mission. You were to stay out of sight and report back with any info on the dragon trappers that were circling a nearby island of Gronckles. You had assured Hiccup you didn't need any backup. 20 minutes tops. That's what you told him. You'd given him a quick kiss goodbye and taken off on your dragon. After 45 had gone by, he was off on Toothless trying to find you. He followed the same path you had and discovered the ships had disappeared, along with you.

That was a week ago. Half of Berk was now out searching for you after the Dragon Riders had failed at tracking you themselves. Hiccup was frantic and had done things he wasn't proud of to try and get a smidge of information on your whereabouts. He was in a dark place and the others worried if they didn't find you soon, they would lose the two of you forever.

~~~~

The torture was constant. The pain. You often blacked out from it but the Grimborns were a persistent duo. Ryker's methods were all about brute force and you were certain your ribs were dust from the amount of punches you'd taken. He must've not been using full strength however because you weren't dead...yet.

Viggo on the other hand loved small tortures. Nicks and cut here and there that stung. Mind games that messed with you and filled you with anxiety and despair. You didn't think you were ever getting rescued. Viggo made sure to tell you there was no hope for rescue. They were covering their tracks very well and even baiting the Berkians with false leads and misdirection. You were never getting found. You were never getting saved.

~~~~

Berk was in the 2nd week of searching. Everyone was becoming more frantic, more worried that they had run out of time. Hiccup was dealing with it the worst. No matter what anyone said, no matter how they tried to comfort him, nothing could be done to ease his pain. Every lead they had followed resulted in nothing. Every trail went cold. Hiccup was starting to fear he had lost you forever. He did not want to think of how you had suffered, if you were suffering still. All because he was too slow to catch up to Viggo.

He had never been drunk in his life but lately, mead was the only thing that could distract him from finding you. Stoick worried about his son but he knew nothing he did would help. Saving you was the only way he could save his son.

He ordered everyone to double their efforts, any man or woman that could be spared was put on a search party. As he gave the orders, Stoick wondered if this wasn't Viggo's plan the whole time. Distract Berk by kidnapping the betrothed of the next Chief, and then attack while the defenses were limited. Regardless, he knew he had to do this. For Hiccup and for you.

~~~~

After endless days of searching, Hiccup finally received a glimmer of hope by way of a Terrible Terror that found it's way to Berk. Around it's leg was a piece of cloth. He recognized it as fabric torn from your sleeve. His heartbeat quickened as he recognized your writing. It was messy and hard to read but he knew it was yours. The fabric was small so your message was brief but you'd provided him coordinates to the island where the dragon hunters were hiding. He felt so stupid as it was an island the Riders had already searched. The hunters must've left and circled back once they were gone. He rounded up as many warriors as he could find and set off immediately for Dragon Graveyard Island.

~~~~

The dragons hunters locked you in a crude cage from large, thick dragon bones. They had made short work of the Boneknapper lingering on the island, forcing you to watch as they destroyed and fashioned its armor into your holding cell. The men leered at you but Viggo made sure to keep them away. You spat at him as he neared your cage. "Why don't you just kill me already? I'm never telling you anything." You glared as he gave you a sinister grin. "Because my dear, I don't need you to tell me where Hiccup and your little friends are. They are going to come to me." He sneered. You paused at that. Viggo chuckled darkly at your puzzled expression. "Did you think I didn't notice the Terrible Terror leaving your cell? The little rag around its leg? I know you sent for help. Now Hiccup is going to fall right into my trap. Not only are you the bait...but you lead them right to me. Thank you very much for your help, dear. Less work for me."

You shouted out angrily as Viggo laughed, walking back to his plans. You felt hot tears sting your face as you prayed Hiccup and the others would be okay.

~~~~

Hiccup and the Riders landed on the island. He knew something was up because it was far too quiet. The dragons sniffed the air and growled lowly. The team formed a defensive circle and crept slowly through. They finally came upon the dragon hunter camp. It was empty, save for a figure chained to a large pole in the middle. Hiccup squinted and gasped when he recognized you. Your head shot up at the approaching noise. You struggled against your chains and tried to cry out but Viggo had gagged you, preventing you from alerting the Riders. You wildly shook your head and tried to motion for them to leave but it was too late. The hunters sprang from every corner, off every cliff, and from behind every rock. You cried out and yanked painfully against your chains but it didn't matter. Your friends were quickly overtaken, their dragons caught in nets and bound. Viggo grabbed you and hauled you to your feet. You grunted as he gripped your face and forced you to watch your friends being tied up and smacked around. "All thanks to you, Y/N. Very good." He taunted.

Suddenly loud roars filled the air. You all looked up to see Stoick leading the Berkians on dragons. The hunters began to panic and quickly started to retreat. Viggo yelled after them, calling them cowards and threatening them. You watched Stoick free your friends and then charge straight for Viggo, Hiccup right behind him. The others freed your dragons and quickly join in chasing away the hunters. Ryker ran up to Viggo and gripped his arm. "We're out numbered here, Viggo. Leave the little bitch and let's go!" He growled. Viggo cursed and shoved you towards Stoick before turning and taking off with his brother. Stoick caught you easily and sat you down. "Are you alright, lass?" He asked as he freed you, concern in his eyes. You nodded tiredly and collapsed against his large chest. Hiccup slid to the ground next to you as his father gently passed you into his arms. Stoick stood. "Take her back home, son. We have to follow Viggo." He ordered. Hiccup nodded as his father barked orders for a team to escort your friends back home and another team to follow him as they tracked the Grimborns.

Hiccup carried you and sat you gently on Toothless, sitting on his back behind you. Your own dragon, very weak and unable to fly, was carried on a makeshift hammock by two bigger dragons. You relaxed into Hiccup's chest as Toothless began to fly home. You felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple. "It's gonna be okay, Y/N. You're safe now. I promise I'll take care of you."

Your eyes grew heavy and you leaned into Hiccup's arms as you finally felt peace enough to sleep. You heard him say "I love you" before drifting off, finally safe.

#hiccup x reader #hiccup x reader fluff #hiccup httyd

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sturniozo · 1 year ago

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Tutor

Chris x reader

Summary - Chris needs to get his grades up to be able to stay on his schools hockey team, and who better to tutor him than his brothers best friend, who he also has a little crush on.

AN: I want this to be a series but that all depends on how this first part goes over. I didn’t want to write something really long just for it to flop lol so that’s why this is so short lol. But please tell me if you like it so I know whether or not to put out more of it! Xoxo-Angel

masterlist

NOT PROOFREAD

Y/n’s pov

I’ve known Nick for 5 years, and Chris only 4. I never did hang around Chris one on one, I just mostly hung out with Nick. But I knew enough about Chris to know I liked him.

I was always too nervous to hang around Chris one on one. Just being in a room with him at all made my heart race. I could barely think around him sometimes.

I knew his grades weren’t the best either. So it came to no surprise to me when Nick was begging me to tutor Chris so he’d shut up about not being able to play hockey anymore. I still don’t know why I agreed.

I don’t want to sound conceded, but I understand why Nick went to me. I know I’m smart, I have perfect grades, I’m in AP classes, as well as having skipped a grade and I’m on track to graduate two years earlier than most people do. But I was still stupid enough to agree to tutor a guy I could barely even form words around. How am I supposed to tutor Chris if I can’t even breathe near him?

So here I am, pacing in my room. Going over my notes for the classes Chris is failing, which is basically all of them. He’s going to be here any minute. I made sure my bedroom was nice and neatly cleaned, and that my notes were organized and readable. Then I hear the dreaded knock on my door.

I walk down the stairs and to my front door. I open the door and am greeted by Chris. Butterflies flood my stomach. Chris smiles at me and holds up a flower. Butterflies part two.

“What’s this for?” I ask, trying to suppress the blush creeping up on my cheeks. Chris shrugs.

“It’s a thank you. For tutoring me.” He says. I step to the side so he can come into my home and I close the door behind him.

“It’s mostly for Nick. He kept begging me.” I reply and lead him upstairs to my bedroom. I sit down at my desk and motion him to sit in the seat next to me. Once he does I pull out the notes. “Okay, what class do you want to start with?” I ask. Chris shrugs. I look at him, and notice he didn’t bring any notes or textbooks of his own. “Where’s your stuff?” I ask.

“What stuff?”

“Your school stuff. Your notes, your textbooks.”

“I don’t have any.”

“What?” I ask, shocked. “Why don’t you have any?”

Chris shrugs again. “I never needed them.”

“I think we just found out how you’re failing.” I pull out the notes from our algebra class. “Okay so the next algebra test is on Friday, which means we have about a week to get you prepared for- are you even listing?” I look over at Chris and he’s smiling at his phone. “Chris did you hear anything I said?”

Chris looks up at me. “Sorry I got distracted, what did you say?”

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t pay attention.”

“I’m trying to. This is just boring.”

“You aren’t trying very hard.”

“No, you’re right I’m not. Let’s blow this off and go do something else.” Chris looks at me and smiles, waiting for my answer.

“What, are you serious?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“You want to leave?”

“Yeah. Can you drive? I walked here.” Chris starts to stand up.

“Chris you can’t go, you’re failing almost all your classes. You’ll be off the hockey team.” I remind him.

“I’ll get the test answers from a kid at school. C’mon let’s go. I want Subway.” He ushers me to get up.

“You can’t cheat, Chris!”

“Sure I can, let’s go! Isn’t subway your favorite?”

How did he know that? “Well… it is but Chris we-“

“How about, we go get subway, then we come back and study?”

“Subway, then you’ll definitely study?” I ask. Chris nods. I bite my lip and sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo

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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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✩࿐TRACK 03: WAR WITH HEAVEN. izuku midoriya (2K)

about. upon spending time apart from your pro-hero fwb, deku, for a work trip — he quickly realises he wants it all with you. heaven, hell and life on earth.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, sfw, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, sneaky links, long distance relationships, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, friends with benefits to lovers, journalist + fem!reader, pro hero!deku.

things to note. another saturday is upon us and so is another instalment!! i really like this one n can’t believe we’re half way through already !! anyways i hope you enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩

whether you believe it or not, izuku midoriya has never been hopelessly in love.

like most people with an overexposure to romance saturated media — the number one hero has always had that nagging feeling, craving for something more. the person to come home to, the partner, the kids and the dog that chews through the white picket fence or makes a mess on the freshly cut lawn. he wants a family like most individuals. but with a schedule as busy and a lifestyle as reckless as his…there’s hardly any time for izuku’s dreams.

dreams were for losers, anyways.

after high school, izuku quickly learned that dreaming wasn’t enough to get by even if it had motivated him to become a hero. reality is harsh and full of hard truths — bearing the responsibility of future number one and being all might’s prodigy had taught him that. so his rose tinted view of the future he had planned for himself quickly collapsed, the stain glass window shattering above him while its shards nicked at izuku’s youthful, hopeful skin.

he wasn’t so pure and good after leaving U.A — at least not in front of the public. behind closed doors izuku was a pessimist. he was sly and maybe a little sleazy, always on the prowl for something or someone to toy with. little deku was all grown up, no longer baby-faced and bright eyed but instead buffer with an unfairly tiny waist and an angular sharpness to his jaw that could cut diamonds.

he was attractive and he knew it — his new found confidence bled into his sex appeal and sky rocketed his popularity and now…the number one controls the whole of Japan in the palm of his hand. everybody wants a taste of the new and improved izuku midoriya.

everyone including you.

mindless hookups, despite being easy stress relief, always left izuku with a sour taste in his mouth. conservations with the elite that happened to stumble into his bed never went further than superficial talk and the odd ‘lets do this again sometime’s. he hated how people would change around him, clinging onto him after a night in the sheets like deku owed them a piece of his soul.

being the number one was no longer enough for hungry mouths. sex no longer satisfied those in his circle.

that was until he met you. the first time deku encountered you (at a hero press junket), you had been a shy intern journalist forced to follow around her mentor with an extreme lust for the green haired hero. he felt bad for you, you were obviously there to learn and do your job but the senior professional they’d stuck you with couldn’t help but slobber all over him instead of teaching you.

half-way through the junket, izuku had managed to sneak away from the pestering paparazzi to get a moment to himself — and it seemed, you’d had similar ideas. his initial assessment of your character was way off too. you were quiet, sure, but observant and snarky as well. a realist just like him. and somehow, you’d managed to convince him to leave to conference; get drinks at a secret roof top bar for only the highest members of japanese hero society, and talk and talk for hours about everything and anything. from quirks to the best snack combinations at the only kombini open past three AM on your street.

izuku liked you, he hadn’t felt such a spark for someone since his rookie days. you were cute, he couldn’t stop looking at your eyes and how they sparkles. your lips when you sipped the drinks he ordered for you and the way you instinctively leaned up to deku just to hear what he was saying.

the way you ended up in his bed that night was no mystery to either of you.

except the sensual and sultry night you shared together didn’t end there — at every event, every occasion, where journalists were required to be present, you found yourselves gravitating towards one another. one moment you’d be sharing bedroom eyes with one another from across the room and the next deku would have you bent over in bathroom stalls, his hushed moans in your ear and his fingers deep in your mouth to keep you quiet.

months went by and the sex didn’t stop, neither of you wanted it to. you made izuku feel a little bit whole again, you made him feel good and made him laugh all in the same breath. he didn’t just like it when you left your claim on his neck bordering the line of keeping your rendezvous a secret and letting the whole world find out — but he liked it when you stayed over and wore his shirts around his luxury apartment. or came to hang out with him at his private gym with a bag of cheat-day take-out katsudon and an earful of gossip from your office.

deku really liked you, more than he should’ve for a girl who was meant to be just a fling, more than he should’ve for someone who didn’t have time in his day for a lover.

“did you get over me?” the hero pouts into the FaceTime call, watching you struggle to grab your luggage off of the conveyer belt in baggage claim. if he were there, he’d have gotten it for you by now.

despite not being anything serious to one another, izuku had made it a habit to weasel his way into your everyday life. you sent cute little good morning and goodnight texts to one another, along with other messages like ‘get home safe’ and ‘have a good day’ too. those text messages quickly escalated to phone calls once the green haired number one admitted to you that it’s hard to fight crime whilst looking for the right kao emoji to send you.

you roll your eyes, coy smile budding on the edges of your lips. “it’s only been two hours, izuku.” you say, finally managing to grab your bag before you head out to the main lobby of the airport.

one thing about that man, is that he’s clingy as fuck. all of your attention has to be on him or he’ll feel like he might die. with you being away for the weekend at a journalism conference instead of in his arms, izuku feels like he might burn the whole world down from the ground up. just to be near you.

either that or he’s just extremely pussy whipped.

“streets are sayin’ you might sleep with that guy from your team while you’re there, is that true?” deku fires back, running a scarred hand through the mass of curls atop his head. he lets it run down to smooth over his face, peach fuzz starting to grow through — but you made him promise not to shave until the day after you got back. apparently his light stubble against your inner thighs made you cum so much—

“—i don’t even like him like that, you big baby,” you tell him matter of factly, cutting through his train of thought and bringing your phone up to your face once more to let emerald eyes peek down your sweater. “and i think he’d get the hint if he saw all these damn marks on my neck.”

pink blooms underneath the freckles on midoriya’s cheeks at the sight of the purple hues decorating your neck and shoulders. he remembers the extra turtlenecks you had to pack because of it. “couldn’t help it, i needed to give you a reminder of what you’d be missing while you were away from me.”

“you’re so dramatic, deku.”

“oh, you wound me, angel.” he purrs into the mic with a sly grin, knowing that he’s affecting you just as much as he misses you. especially when you give him a pointed glare. izuku let’s the conversation wither out as you order yourself an uber that’ll take you the hotel. he can’t help but chuckle when you perk up and notice the amount of money he’s sent you to cover the costs of it. “yanno…” deku mumbles, resting his cheeks on his knuckles. “you’re like heaven away from hell to me.”

you won’t admit how sexy he looks, even if izuku is all googly-eyed and soft for you. even if his forest green locks curl over his pretty eyes and hide them. it almost pisses you off. that he’s so blissfully unaware of how fucking pretty he is and how that mere fact manages to ruin you you even though you’re miles apart. “what’s hell, then?”

“my work. this city. this apartment, without you.” he says smoothly, filling your stomach with butterflies. izuku has a away about him that makes you feel like you’re his entire world and only his — but there’s never been any strings attached, you’ll never fully be his and he’ll very much be the nation’s hero (and dick) until someone manages to tie him down.

“are you asking me to move in with you, izuku?” there’s no expectancy in your voice — you say it mostly as a joke because you have no idea how much the number one pines for you. how tonight, he’ll drink himself into a stupor with his friends and whine to them about how much he misses you. izuku may have changed on the outside, may be stronger and faster but he’s still that insecure teenager on the inside.

he has to force his knees to stop knocking whenever you’re around. he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat whenever he thinks about the possibility of you being with someone who isn’t you. he feels sick to the stomach and panics at the thought of losing you. you mess with deku’s head in the worst of ways and yet he finds himself wanting more. nevertheless, he smiles, loving how his name sounds on the sweet glaze of your lips.

“you’ve got a place in my bed. you’re always here anyways.”

“you’d never let me leave it, if you had a say in the matter.”

“you’d never have to work again if you let the number one hero take care of you angel.” izuku sighs longingly, giving you his cutest pair of puppy dog eyes that never fail to make you swoon. “but you love your job.”

“i do.” your uber pulls up and you reply curtly so you can properly greet your driver. they aid you with your suitcase and you slip your headphones on while in the back seat to keep your special conversation private.

“do you love me?” he can’t help but ask. izuku is hopelessly enamoured by you, you’re like a virus that’s spread across his brain and controls his every thought or action. he needs you like his lungs need oxygen to breathe — you’ve changed him for the better, shown him that maybe he can have both work and luxury. a family and foundation. with you, if you’d want him.

“izuku.” you warn, but playfully.

“so it’s true,” the hero drawls across the line in faux disappoint though his eyes speak mischief. “you only like me for my cock ‘n my money.” you can practically hear the pout on his pretty plump lips.

a fondness takes over you and you can’t help but squirm happily. “and your pretty boy smile,” you squeal cutely, filling midoriya with the same amount of fondness “don’t forget.”

“so you do love me.”

“i can’t answer that until you ask what you want to ask me properly.”

“alright then,” sitting up, deku grasps at his phone between shaky fingers and holds it above his head — giving you the perfect view of his freckled and scared (and chiselled) body. he chews on the swell of his lower lip, dancing around the question he knows he wants to ask. “angel. i want you. more than just a fling. i want you to be mine.” he blurts, closing his eyes so that his thoughts come easy and he can’t see you reject him.

midoriya doesn’t know what he would do if he lost you, he’s seen what losing your love has done to his friends. kirishima and his partner had almost broken up with each other recently. he’d be a mess in that situation. izuku has faced too many hardships in his life, his career, to let this one good thing slip from between his fingers.

“will you? be mine?”

he sees you poke your tongue into your cheek, laughing as you pretend to think. “i will, izuku. i want nothing more,” you coo. “keep my side of the bed warm. i’ll be home soon.”

relief floods through deku’s body. “don’t be too long, gorgeous.” with a couple of blow kisses, he lets you go with the reminder to call him back once you’re settled in at the hotel (so he can pay for your room service). it’s only when you’re alone again that izuku realises he’d rip stars from the sky to be with you, pull the heavens right down to earth to be by your side.

you’re everything to izuku, and for you, he’d go to war with heaven.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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A Place in the Sun 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Summary: Trouble in the big city follows you back to your sleepy village home.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You have your prize; a limited edition and a surprise! With all pre-orders, the bookstore gave gift card. Now you have to come back. You giddily carry off your book into the vast mall and trace your way back to the food court. You only have to walk in circles a few times before you figure it out.

You join the line at the pretzel stand, perusing the many different flavours and toppings you can add to the classic twisted treat. You settle on the cinnamon bun pretzel before it’s your turn to order. You wait patiently near a group of teen boys using words you don’t understand.

As you rock listlessly, you peer around the food court. It’s getting loud in there. The tables are filling up as the heat of cooking food and bodies warms the space. You don’t think you’ll stick around. You’ve never been anywhere so full of people, it’s kind of scary.

As you turn back to the pretzel stand, you wince as you sense a speck at the edge of your vision. Dark blue and gone before you can look. You squint at a woman with several children clustered around her as you try to track the strange flicker. This place is chaotic, that’s all.

Your order is called and you step up to take the container. The smell of cinnamon makes your stomach growl. You hurry between the tables, sidestepping children and dodging around parked strollers. You finally get to the other side and recognise the same entrance you came in through.

The monstrous bronco isn’t hard to find in the parking lot. You secure your things in the passenger seat and climb up on the driver’s side. You feel almost like a child behind the large steering wheel, sat up so high on the axle that you look down on all other cars. In Hammer Ford, you walk more than you drive, more often, your dad is behind the wheel of the truck he’s had longer than he’s had you.

You roll down the window to let the air in and wipe the sweat form your hairline. You didn’t realise how sweltering you were. You balance the container in your lap and pop it open. You tear off a piece of the pretzel and nibble on it. You don’t want to rush back home, you don’t know the next time you’ll have this chance, even with the gift card as an excuse.

As you chew, your eyes flick up and more teen girls approach the mall’s facade. Or maybe they’re older. You can’t tell. Not with their highlighted hair and fake lashes. There weren’t too many people in Hammer Ford that went all out like that. One girl you know but mostly for selfies.

It’s both fascinating and intimidating to notice the difference between the city and the village. The more you do, the more you feel completely out of your depth. You watch after the group of girls, wishing you had some pals to bring you, and your eyes catch on a figure. You recognise the smooth stride before the blue suit or his vibrant eyes. It’s the same man as before; the one who caught your keys and growling in the bookstore.

As you bite into a particularly gooey morsel, his gaze flits over to you. You blanch, eyes rounding, and you quickly look down in embarrassment. You grab a napkin and hide your mouth. Look at you, the bumpkin in the ancient farm truck chewing on fried dough. It's kind of funny. You smile and swallow.

When you look back up, he’s gone. Oh well. He’s just a stranger.

You take your time and enjoy each bite. When you finish, you get out to toss the napkins and box in the nearby bin. You don’t want the truck to smell of cinnamon when you get back. As you get back behind the wheel, you pause. You wish you could bring something home for your parents. You suddenly feel very selfish.

You try not to dwell on it. You turn the engine into a roar and it settles to a rumble. You check your mirror and crane to see beside you. You shift and back out, angling slowly between the rows of car. The truck might be colossal but it handles well enough.

You roll through the lot slowly, waving other drivers ahead of you, not so eager to be back on the country roads. A honk blasts from the car behind you. Unlike the baritone blare of the bronco, it’s higher, almost tooting. You try to see the car but only see a sleek silver blue roof in your rear view.

You take your chance to exit and join the traffic towards the highway; from there, you’ll take the exit to the back roads. It’s busy. Lunchtime has cars clogging the lane way. It doesn’t break up until you head off onto the highway and you’re the only one signaling toward Hammer Ford. The sign itself is half obscured with overgrown vines.

You roll your window further down and let the country air blow over you. The smell of the field and the crunch of gravel gives you a sense of nostalgia. Not like the smoky, rubbery atmosphere of the city. It was an exciting visit but after all that, home is a welcome reprieve.

You yawn over the wheel and glance over at the bag with your book in it. You might be too tired to start it today. Ah well. You want to savour it just like the pretzel.

As you relax into the seat and your mind falls into autopilot at passing the familiar gnarled tree, a sudden rev makes you squeak. It’s definitely not the bronco. If you lean to heavily on the gas, it starts to huff and puff and shake so much you think it might explode.

A streak of silver blue appears at your right, just visible along the lower edge of the window. Another car you hadn’t noticed until then. You’re so used to the backwoods being empty, you hadn’t bothered to check your mirror.

The car keeps pace with you and you try to lean over and see without veering. Their windows are tinted. Again, they rev and their tires speed ahead, zooming off as you keep your lazy pace. Even so, you barely have a chance to react as they turn suddenly and block the road ahead of you, setting their car perpendicular to your path.

You slam both feet on the brakes and brace the wheel, barely keeping your chest from hitting the rigid leather. You grip it tight and push yourself back against the seat with a huff. You blink at the car idling in front of you, confused and nervous. That’s strange.

Cars like that don’t come around here often. The Odinsons have a few vintage cars that outshine the locals, and that new resident with the bristly mustache zips around in his shiny red corvette, but you don’t recognise this car.

You could try to drive through the fields but you’d do more damage to the truck and the crops without getting very far. You just sit there and watch and wait. You have a bad feeling in your stomach. You check the lock on your door and crank up the window.

You remember that shade of paint. That honk back in the mall lot. Your father did say that city folk can hold a grudge, but for what? For letting another driver ahead of you?

You gulp and wring the slender steering wheel. There’s a tire rod in the back, on the floor. You can reach it if you need it but could you really use it? You weigh the question, the car ominously still as you wait for something, anything to happen.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #series #au #backwoods #drabble #the 355

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just-some-guy-at-shiz · 1 year ago

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I’m amused by the possibility of the original backstories for the Scarecrow and Tin Man just being like. Lies. Complete lies.

Like, Boq just wants a fresh start and hopes that using a different name might make it at least slightly harder for Nessa to track him down. So he spends hours making up and memorizing this unnecessarily complicated backstory on the very slight chance anyone asks him to explain himself. But the few people he comes across are satisfied with just the initial introduction as Nick, which makes Boq grumpy because he really really wants to talk about his fake backstory. He even related it to woodcutting to make people think he had job experience! No one appreciates his efforts. |:(

But the one guy was willing to sell him an axe anyway, so it comes out to the same thing. Now he’s armed!!! >:)

When Dorothy actually wants to know what happened to him, he’s thrilled that he finally gets to roleplay his woodcutter OC Nick Chopper (naming characters is hard, okay).

“You see, I was in love with this girl named Glin—um, named Linda. Yeah. She loved me in return, but we couldn’t marry because she was trapped as the long-suffering servant of this old hag named Ressa Nose and wasn’t allowed to leave or anything which SUCKED. To keep Linda from running away with me, Ressa Nose went to the Wicked Witch of the East—who is also the Governor of Munchkinland, FWI, and a complete jerk, so stay away from her—and had her enchant my axe. And the next time I tried to use it, the axe went and CUT MY LEG OFF!!!” [animatedly pantomimes it] “But I didn’t freak out or anything, I handled it like a pro. I went-“ [hops forward on one leg] “-to this tinsmith nearby and I was like…”

It’s at this point that Fiyero starts to suspect that he recognizes this guy.

(“…but, and you’re not gonna believe this, it happened again…”)

Yeah.

Fiyero needs to keep his identity secret because he’s wanted by the government, and was almost tortured to death at the hands of said government.

He did not plan anything. He says “Yeah, I just came to life one day, dunno how,” and Dorothy accepts it without question because it’s no weirder than anything else.

Boq invented an entire D&D character with stats and all. Fiyero said “I’m a scarecrow, my name is Scarecrow” and left it at that in the most low-effort way possible.

#wicked #wicked musical #boq bfeeson #fiyero tiggular

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everydayyoulovemeless · 9 months ago

Note

How about the Fallout 4 robots meeting the robots from New Vegas?? owo

Fallout 4 Robots Meeting New Vegas Robots

➼ Word Count » 1.6k ➼ Warnings » Slightly suggestive (fisto) ➼ Genre » Platonic ➼ A/N » This takes place in the Mojave cause it'd be hard for a lot of the bots from nv to move across the country

Codsworth finds Victor to be quite the character. The moment he saw him and the amount of dust he tracked behind him, he immediately decided that he should step in and help clean him off. If it left any impression on the butler, then it was that RobCo didn't have the same prestige as General Atomics had.

Victor didn't care as much as Codsworth did about the mud and grime that clung to him, but he didn't stop him from wiping his screen down.

When Codsworth happened to meet Mr. House himself, he made sure to snarkily bring up how his company seems to be 'letting itself go'. Mr. House mostly just ignored him, assuming that that was just how he was programmed to be, but he's definitely not allowed in the Lucky 38 anymore out of fear that he'll find it dirty.

Another thing that gets Codsworth itching to grab a bottle of Windex is when he's introduced to Rex. The poor mutt! Not only is he covered in sand, but that awful paint job on his side! Dear God, if he doesn't get the poor dog washed off instantly he fears he might break down!

However, after he's done scrubbing him down, he decides he finds Rex to be quite the creature and would gift him one of the Jangles plushies that Sole doesn't stop flooding his inventory with. He'll certainly find it more endearing than he does.

If there's anyone Codsworth feels understands him most, it's Yes Man. At least he's inclined to sweep every now and then. The two actually get along quite well with how sarcastic and passive-aggressive they can come across as, as well as they're desire to be helpful in any way possible.

Codsworth thinks he's an absolute hoot and couldn't think of a better way to spend his afternoon than gossiping with the optimistic bot.

Curie drops everything when she spots Rex off in the distance. What a scientific marvel he is! She's never seen anything like him before and will take plenty of notes to see if she can't upgrade Dogmeat in the same way when she gets back home.

Rex also happens to be really fond of Curie (mainly because she gives him attention) because of how much better she makes him feel. Who knew he had so many broken parts? And without even realizing it? It's a good thing she came along when she did!

In fact, there are a lot of people who are fond of Curie. One of the main ones being Muggy. Her kind and gentle aura is something he never realized he was missing in his day-to-day life and he will beg her on bended knee to take him with her. He can't stand being with the Think Tank any longer! Please!

The Think Tank couldn't care less if Muggy went with her or not, they just want her out.

They can't stand how naive Curie is. She's clueless! And impossible to talk to! Not to mention how eager she is to put her grimy, wastelander hands on everything.

So, Curie leaves the wonders of Big MT with her strange, new friend to finally go and visit the place she came here for in the first place - Vegas. But she very quickly loses sight of the extravagant place around her when she meets Yes Man.

The two couldn't possibly be more of a perfect match and, although Curie can't ever pick up on Yes Man's sarcasm, and Yes Man can't do anything else but shrug at the scientific terms Curie spits out, they still seem to agree on most things.

They're both so kind to one another and have that same sort of curiosity about a world they've been sheltered from for so long, that they hardly leave each other's sides.

Nick feels a tinge of guilt when he sees Rex running toward him. Even though he's never lived it, he has memories of opening up the morning paper and reading about the reconstruction happening on the West Coast police dogs to make them look how he does. At least he seems happy though, right? Can't be mad at that. He'll scratch him on the head and smile a bit when Rex sits and tilts his head in recognition of his occupation as a detective, and he finds his instinct admirable when it comes to spotting danger, but there's something about the dog that makes him feel a bit off.

On the other hand, Nick can't get enough of Victor. The two will go out and shoot cans all day before returning to some saloon or bar and sharing stories from their time spent out in the wasteland. They're like brothers, just born from opposite sides of the country.

At some point, Nick had found himself tied up in another case while in Freeside and it led him right to where Fisto was stashed. He couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle and a sigh when the bot started offering his 'services', and Nick left as quickly as he arrived, deciding that he didn't want to be involved.

One thing he did get involved in, however, was the little Securitron Curie brought back from outta nowhere. How could he hate a robot who found some kind of... joy? when he cleaned mugs? Muggy warmed up fast to the caffeine-addict human Nick must've once been, as his synth counterpart can't help but down a few cups every morning, despite not ever feeling tired.

X6-88 finds Mr. House to be quite the spectacle. He actually really likes him and wishes to bring his ideas and plans back to the Insitute to try and do those same tactics on the Commonwealth.

Since Mr. House had gone to CIT before the war, X6-88 considers him to be a founder of sorts and has much respect for him and the work he's done in the Mojave.

On the other hand, he finds Victor's happy-go-lucky attitude to be annoying. Even if he were invented by House himself, he can't help but sigh whenever he hears him rolling over to him. He talks way too much and remembers way too little for him to be considered as anything but an inconvenience. He tries to avoid him at all costs if he can help it.

One Securitron that X6 does seem to like, however, is Yes Man. Although he's disappointed that he wasn't what House had originally intended him to be and was made from some dirty wastelander instead, he still finds his attitude and overall composure to be incredibly helpful. If only he were in more... responsible hands, then he could really be doing great things in terms of rebuilding the Mojave.

Yes Man almost envies how pessimistic and emotionless X6 comes off as. A part of him wishes he could express emotions on that side of the spectrum as well, but he supposes he's much more likable with a positive outlook instead.

However, if there's any part of the Mojave that X6-88 thinks could be useful for the Institute, it's all the tech stashed away in Big MT. He's not particularly fond of the Think Tank at all, and could only probably take a few hours of them bickering, but all the information they have with them is enough of a reason for X6-88 to want to kidnap them and bring them back to the Commonwealth to interview them further.

They, of course, make it impossible for him to successfully take them with him since they're all too paranoid to properly be teleported back and he quickly decides to just give up and go back to the Lucky 38.

DiMA likes to debate and challenge Mr. House on his political ideals and, as much as he loves the exercise, he's not fond of how accusatory DiMA can get. Not to mention how easily he seems to get people to rally behind him, so he gets locked out of the Lucky 38 pretty quickly if not Vegas entirely.

DiMA doesn't mind though, he wasn't a big fan of the flashy lights and large crowds anyway. Besides, Freeside is full of such interesting people, that he can't help but prefer it over the city. One of those people being Fisto.

When Nick approached him later one day and told him about his encounter in one of the back alleys, DiMA found himself... concerned, to say the least. And slightly curious.

What kind of robot must one be to be active in such a way? It's strange in any manner, and he was quite intrigued to meet him. However, he was disappointed when he found out he was a Protectron that had only automated messages. How disappointing...

Vegas was fun and all, but DiMA quickly found that he was being called for elsewhere... as he was messing around with one of the radios, he got ahold of the Mysterious Broadcast and disappeared to Big MT.

The scientists, like the other two who visited, were not happy. Especially since DiMA knows what he's doing when it comes to technology.

When he starts messing with Dr. 0's robots and reading through all sorts of Klein's legal documents they decide to ban him from their corner of the Mojave. They may even shut their satellite down altogether because?? they've got the worst types of people entering their lab.

He's honestly going to be the reason everyone has to leave back to the commonwealth. No one wants blud around.

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misty--nights · 8 months ago

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I'm working on another Dead Boy Detectives fic rather than work on my actual college stuff and it's got me thinking bout Niko and luck. Spoilers for the whole show, of course.

I find it fascinating how Niko keeps stumbling upon all these situations that seem like they have nothing to do with anything, only for her to find the key to whatever problem they encounter next in said random situation. It's a pretty consistent, too, that she seems to walk a line between bad and good luck. Like something bad will happen to her, only for that to be immediately offset by something really good that she found by chance. It's honestly kind of wild at times.

So, when we first meet Niko, she's being possessed by parasites that want to explode her, which doesn't seem very lucky. Except, that somehow the girl who moves across the girl just so happens to be with a couple of ghosts who can save her. Just in the nick of time, too. And at first that doesn't seem like that big of a deal. It's what the boys do, right? It makes sense they saved her just in time because that's what they do, and that's the kind of show this is. But this bad luck / good luck thing keeps happening to her until the end of the show.

In episode 4, she goes with the gang to the lighthouse and goes off on her own to talk to the gift shop lady. She doesn't find what it is that is drowning the people, but she does find information about the Washer Woman and about Lilith, which at the time seems to her and the others like just random information. She then goes to find the red sea glass and gifts it to Edwin on a whim, without knowing what it can do for them. She just finds it, like it's nothing, when later we see Tragic Mick spend so much time by the shore looking for one, and we see how hard it is. And I know they say in the show that only those who really need her can find the Washer Woman, but out of all four of them, Niko doesn't seem to be the one who needs the Washer Woman the most, as we see when Crystal is the one who receives a personalized riddle thing. Which, again, is something that will be super important later and Crystal gains that knowledge thanks to Niko just stumbling upon the key to finding the Washer Woman on accident.

Then, in episode 5, she just happens to stumble upon Jenny's secret admirer and manage to set up a date with them. Now, I know. I know Maxine is actually a stalker that ends up trying to kill Jenny, bad luck. Except nothing really happens to her there? @carpediemma has a post where she says that the floor was most likely dirty because she promised Jenny to clean the floors for a month if the date went wrong and Jenny was sort of banking on it being bad. With Niko's track record with luck, I think that is very possible. Again, bad luck / good luck situation. The date she sets up is ruined because Maxine tries to kill Jenny, but because she made the bet and Jenny fully believed the date wouldn't work, Maxine slips and fall.

Episode 6 might be a bit of a stretch. Technically, it's Crystal's decision to go to Tragic Mick's in search for some way to get rid of David, but it's thanks to Niko that she actually gets the heart gem thingy. So, bad luck there, because the gem takes away all of Crystal's powers. However, and this links back to episode 4 again, it's thanks to her finding the sea glass that eventually Crystal has the way to start discovering her real abilities.

In episode 7 she stays with the Night Nurse while Charles goes to hell and Crystal goes to find David. She starts reading the Night Nurse's book as a way to find something about her dad. Nothing she finds there would be useful for contacting, seeing or bringin him back. However, she does manage to stumble upon the exact passage she needed to buy Edwin and Charles some time after they get back from hell. And yes, maybe you could say that she read the whole book during the time Charles was gone, but I doubt it. We don't know how long exactly it takes Charles to find Edwin and return, but we do know it can't be that long, because the Night Nurse keeps insisting she can't keep the doorway open for long. I think at most he would have been gone 40 minutes, and that's me being generous. It's enough time for Crystal to confront David and come back. In any case, I don't think it's enough for her to carefully read the whole book front to back, no matter how good her reading comprehension is, specially if she was looking for something specific, like something about where her dad ended up in. I think it's more likely that she just found the page with the loophole she would need by chance, read it, filed it in her memory for a "just in case" and continued looking for what she wanted.

Finally, in episode 8, we have the whole Lilith thing that was set up in episode 4. She finds about her and files it as an irrelevant detail, until she hears Tragic Mick talk about Esther's deal and tells Crystal how she can contact Lilith, which ends up saving Crystal and the boys at the final confrontation. Besides that, though, there's the whole bear figure that Tragic Mick gives her and the explosion at Jenny's shop. In the explosion, Esther takes Charles and Edwin (bad), but neither her nor Jenny, the two living people in the shop at the time, are really injured in the commotion (good.)

And then the bear thing. In episode 7, she hears his story and tells him how they found the Washer Woman, and he can't find a piece of red sea glass of his own. Even though he is really desperate for a way to find her. (which, again, it's odd Niko is the one to find the Washer Woman when she wasn't that in need for the Washer Woman's assistance. The whole group was, but it was Niko who found her, but anyways). He gifts her the bear figure as a way to thank her for trying to help and they move on from that. And she accepts it and goes to Esther's place with Crystal, convinced of the protection of the bear, and then dies to save Crystal. Except she doesn't really? She's fine at the end, in some sort of frozen land, with Litty and Kingham, and by the way she holds the bear figure, it's implied that's what sort of saved her, even if she is no longer tied to the mortal plane.

I don't know, there was no real point behind this, just something I've been thinking about for a while. I think if someone has a shot at helping Tragic Mick return to sea, it's her, because she just has the luck to find solutions she wasn't even looking for. And I'm convinced if she ever makes it back to Port Townsend, that's just what she would do. On accident, but still. That's just the kind of character she is to me.

#dead boy detectives #niko sasaki #crystal palace #edwin payne #charles rowland #the night nurse #jenny green #meta #my writing

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angel-fics · 1 year ago

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Better Later Than Never: Dalton Lambert x Reader

Summary: Chris takes you and her old roommate Dalton to a frat party and insists the three of you mess with their things. When you and Dalton nearly get caught, a misunderstanding puts Dalton into some hot water with his crush; you

Warnings: Dalton being an idiotic virgin. Chris is such a fucking instigator, I love her. Nick makes a dick-ish appearance. Fem!Reader is having a hard time being patient. As a result, we get ooc!Dalton who is suffering from acute horniness. Smut ensues. Sweet Dalton. Switch!Dalton, Switch!Reader. loss of virginity. first kisses. little bit of angst. fluffyyyyy. raw sex, wrap before you tap, folks. doggy-style. Riding. Oral (female and male receiving).

The party was loud to all of your senses. The booming bass of whatever shit song was playing made your skin feel like it was vibrating. The smells of sweat, weed, sex and the toxic fumes of axe body spray overwhelmed you and gave you a head ache. But Dalton was there, so you might as well have been dreaming.

Dalton Lambert was an art student and the former roommate of your current roommate, Chris. You and Chris didn’t have much in common but she was easy to get along with and was a great roommate. You were a history major who minored in the arts, and Chris…liked music.

She got in a situation with Dalton that involved his possessed body throwing her into a wall, and that’s how you found out that ghosts and demons and astral projection were all real things. And you and Dalton got along easily, enough for you to develop feelings for him over the months as Chris helped you bond through things she liked her friends to do with her.

Like parties, Chris liked parties. But not in the typical drinking-and-dancing-and-fucking way. Chris liked to go to parties to make fun of party people and rifle through their things. And she liked to drag you and Dalton along with her, at least until she lost track of you while doing something else.

Right now, for instance, was the perfect example. You and Dalton were awkwardly standing at the edge of the dance floor in the living room of a frat house while Chris nosied her way through the brothers’ bedrooms. Dalton looked beautiful under the colorful strobe lights, the flashing rainbows contrasting with intense shadows across his handsome features. You couldn’t stop glancing at him.

“I hate this. Hate it. Let’s leave,” Dalton grumbled deeply in your ear, his soft hair tickling your cheek as he shook his head in disdain.

You shivered lightly and disguised it as a laugh. “Happy to, as soon as we find Chris. We can’t leave her here by herself.”

“Fine, let’s look for her. And go.” Grabbing your hand, Dalton stomped his way upstairs with a look so venomous that people automatically parted to let the two of you pass.

You flushed, staring at your joined hands blankly, and nearly tripped trying to keep up with your friend. At the top of the landing, Dalton unfortunately let go of your hand and turned to face you.

“Let’s split up and look for her. And hope she hasn’t gotten herself in trouble,” Dalton ordered. You nodded and turned around, then the lights went out.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! GLOW IN THE DARKKKKKK. HOPE YOU’RE WEARING LIGHT COLORS,” came an echoing shout from downstairs. It sounded like Nick, much to your chagrin.

A body crashed into yours and long, thin fingers clutched at your waist and around your shoulder. The hand on your shoulder grazed your breast and you were about to elbow whatever skeeze was trying to coo a feel when you heard Dalton in your ear again.

“Y-Y/n,” Dalton whimpered. It wasn’t a question, but more of a sigh of relief. You wrapped your own fingers around his and squeezed them lightly to reassure him.

“Let’s look for Chris together and dip,” you offer, knowing he wouldn’t refuse. Dalton would go for any option that got him out of the dark the quickest. Even after his traumatic encounter in the Further, it seemed like he was even more afraid of the dark. Not that you blamed him.

You nodded and held onto his hand as you walked into the first bedroom that connected to another bedroom. Closing the door behind you so as to not draw unwanted attention, you and Dalton looked around in the mostly dark room for your eccentric mutual friend.

“Chris?! Chris! Let’s go,” Dalton hissed harshly into the room. When his demand was met with silence, you moved to the connecting room to look there.

“Chris? Listen, you’ve had your fun, but me and Dalton wanna leave. Can we just go?” Once again met with silence, you sighed in frustration and grabbed Dalton’s hand again to guide him back into the hallway.

Then the door started opening from the outside and you instinctively slammed it closed again. Dalton’s gaze shot to you in shock, pulling you closer to him protectively.

“Hey! What the hell? Who the fuck is in my room?!” Great…Nick the Dick.

“Fuck, again?” Dalton had a few run-ins with Nick, one of them resulting in what Chris called “A God Awful First Kiss, Oh My God, Dalton, I’m Still Sorry About That!” It was easy not to feel jealous about it, but you wished you could have the chance to kiss Dalton.

“This is why we don’t go to parties,” you muttered in annoyance.

“What do we do?” Nick was banging on the door and hollering in jest to his friends, yelling about catching someone in the act. Probably trying to humiliate the two of you into coming out.

“We got two options, fighting or fucking. Not real, obviously, but y’know…You choose.” You hoped he’d choose to kiss you, so you would know he’d actually want to before he did. It’s a subtle way to find out how he feels, or at least if he is attracted to you.

From what you could see in the dark, he stared at you blankly for a moment, each second had you panicking at the possibility of being caught. More voices of raucous frat boys got closer to the door.

“Dalton!”

“Uh, fight?! How would that even work?” His hands darted out towards you in the dark and pulled you in even closer in panic.

You tried to hide the crestfallen expression on your face with a witty smirk and hoped the dark hid your sudden wave of insecurity.

“Follow my lead.” You cleared your throat and approached the door. “OH, SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PRICK! YOU ARE SUCH A SELFISH AND CONCEITED ASSHOLE! EVERYTHING HAS TO BE ABOUT YOU! NO! DON’T TELL TO BE QUIET, TYLER! I’M SO SICK OF YOU! IF YOU WON’T MEET MY NEEDS, I’LL FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL!”

You threw open the door and stormed out with a look of rage adorning your features. Dalton ran after you silently, quickly enough that the still dark and crowded hallway helped conceal your identities.

Once the two of you were safe from Nick and his cronies, you heard Dalton giggling behind you. “Holy shit, that was awesome! I could really believe that you were mad at me.”

Shame flooded you as you admitted to yourself that you had let a bit of your actual bitterness at his apparent rejection bitterness cloud your performance. You shrugged noncommittally as you dragged him downstairs.

All you want right now is to leave the stupid party and drown your sorrows with a pity party, some ice cream, and dancing to early 2000’s party music while alone in your room. And your bad mood worsens when you spot Chris, flirting with a sorority girl in the kitchen on the first floor.

You huff irritably and roll your eyes, pushing your way through the crowd carelessly. It takes you a minute to register that Dalton is still following you.

“Hey, let’s go back to your dorm. It’s not like you have anyone else to go back to,” Dalton jokes lightly as he keeps up with you easily, softly apologizing to all of the people you’re practically shoving aside.

“Sure, fine,” you shout back at him over the music, not bothering to look back at him as you start to grab your belongings that you’d hung up on the coat rack when you’d arrived.

Dalton grabs your upper arm as you shrug on your jacket. You whip around to look at him and try your school your features into something less angry. As upset as you are, it’s not his fault that he doesn’t share your feelings, it’s not like you’d even admitted anything to him anyways. He didn’t know how much his rejection had actually hurt you.

But he sensed something was up with you, you knew it. Dalton was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, you always knew exactly what his intentions were by just the look on his face.

“What’s up with you? Why are you acting so weird?” His sad and confused puppy-dog eyes were enough to end wars in your opinion, but right now, his words lit a fire in your chest.

Then you got a text from Chris telling you that she was going to go home with some sorority girl, and to make a move on Dalton. Fuck, this night was going terrible. You sorta kinda maybe blew up at him, just a little. The music made it hard to carry the message without a little bit of yelling.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m standing in the middle of a party that I didn’t even want to go to. Surrounded by obnoxiously drunk people with music that’s so bad and so loud that it’s giving me a migraine. After nearly having to get caught in Nick the Dick’s room because Chris can’t keep her hands to herself. Literally. Because we went through that entire thing upstairs only for her to be down here the whole time flirting with some random chick. So I apologize for forgetting my manners for all of five fucking seconds and not being more polite when addressing you, Dalton.” Your chest was heaving by the end of your winded rant and you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or even more enraged that no one but Dalton seemed dazed by it.

He was staring at you again, puppy face in full effect. His lips parted then shut as he made to speak before thinking better of it. His eyes flickered all over your for a few seconds and you had to convince yourself that you were delusional, thinking that they had temporarily settled on your lips and boobs.

“I didn’t want to come either, why are you taking it out on me?” Turns out he wasn’t thinking better of it. Stupid puppy dog eyes tricked you. “I just wanted to know what was bothering you, like a good friend, and it doesn’t even seem like you want to be around me.”

You didn’t, not now, when your heart and ego had taken a huge hit from him, unbeknownst to him of course.

“Exactly, you didn’t want to come, I don’t know why you’re stopping us from leaving,” you countered, ignoring his last comments.

He exhaled sharply and shook his head, moving around you and opening the front door. You walked out with him and noticed that the both of you were headed in the same direction. Even if you both lived in the same dorm house, you’d assumed he wanted to go somewhere else on his own.

“Where are we going?”

“To your dorm? Duh. I figure you’ll be in a better mood once we get away from all of this crap,” he explains tiredly, chalking up your tantrum to an ill-timed venting session. You were thankful for it, but you weren’t about to say anything. It didn’t change that his assumption was wrong and you were secretly upset with him.

It would be hypocritical, seeing as you weren’t opposed to him spending the night in your dorm.

You hummed your assent and the walk continued on silently. Or at least, until Dalton slowed down to walk side by side with you, trying to “covertly” get your attention by pointedly staring at you.

“So…what’s new with you? Dating someone?” It was a weird question to ask and you had to trample down that small bit of hope that brightened within you. He’d made his side of things clear.

“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be spending my Saturday night at a frat party of all places with you. I’d be with him and probably getting laid.” You cringed internally at the mention of sex and regretted adding that bit. It had been a really long time since you’d been satisfied by another person. Or yourself.

His face fell slightly and you knew he probably misinterpreted what you’d said. It did sound like an implication that you didn’t want to hang out with him. You tried to lighten the mood by amending your answer.

“If I had been at a party, snooping with my boyfriend, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kiss him to avoid being caught,” you joke with a salacious wink.

Dalton made another face, but it wasn’t as easy to tell what was going through his mind as he thought over what you said. But you could safely register that you hadn’t lightened the mood at all.

“Yeah, yeah. That makes sense. Why wouldn’t you kiss your boyfriend in that situation?” Dalton stared ahead of you, at the path leading to your dorms as you both approached the building. He sounded more like he was talking to himself, though, and you didn’t know what to do to get rid of this heavy feeling that sat between you two.

Thoughts flooded you ranging from guilt to irritation to loneliness to frustration to lust…

“It just felt like you didn’t want to be around me back there. And I’ve never gotten that vibe from you before, so I just kinda assumed that maybe you had someone else you’d rather be hanging with.”

He opened the door for you and fixed you with a look so deep that it made you breathless trying to figure out what he was trying to say. It wasn’t like he felt the same way you did. Did he want you to get a boyfriend?

“C’mon Dalton, Id never prefer anyone’s company over you and Chris. Even if they wanted to do something I actually enjoyed over going to a frat party,” you assured him with a laugh. “Maybe I should get a boyfriend, though. It’s kinda sad I spend all of my free time with you and Chris.”

“Why?”

It was so simple. Just a singled word. But it floored you and you nearly fell off the stairs you were climbing. Luckily you made it to the second floor landing, Dalton’s floor. You had one more flight to go up before reaching your room. You paused as the possibilities of what you could say and what he was implying swirled about your mind before you could even try to control them.

“Because I want someone who doesn’t want me. And the best way to get over someone is to under someone else,” you replied honestly, not seeing a reason to beat around the bush.

“Why bother? Just find someone else that you already like and try going out with them. I mean, I’m right here,” he suggests so casually that you actually considered violence against him.

The muscles in your jaw ache from clenching as your words fall like bricks from between your teeth. “Maybe I considered that before. Maybe I’d hoped for it, every time I looked at you. But it sucks, because it’s kinda hard to date someone who won’t even kiss you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but you jab a harsh finger into his chest to stop him in his tracks. “No, I’m not done. You’ve had every opportunity. Not to respond to my lack of hints, I didn’t expect that much from you. But if you were interested, you would’ve made it known long before now. And even if you hadn’t, you had a chance delivered in your lap at that party. You could’ve kissed me, but no, you chose to have me make up an argument on the spot just to avoid it. So whoops! My fucking bad for not considering you as the perfect candidate.”

He doesn’t look confused anymore. Or sad. He doesn’t even look embarrassed or defensive, like most guys in his position would’ve reacted. He looks enraged and offended.

“Do you seriously think that low of me? That I’d seriously want to kiss you for the first time to avoid Nick. That I’d waste that opportunity like that! For Nick?!” He wasn’t being loud, but his words still echoed in your ears as he got all up in your face. He glowered down at you, his blue eyes enflamed.

“You want the truth? If I had chosen to kiss you, I wouldn’t have been able to stop,” he admitted, still angry, but a lot quieter. Vulnerable.

You softened, just slightly. It was hard for you, too, to be open with him about this. I mean, look what happened as a result of you trying to be. Still, you could feel the tension and frustration filling the air, and just because it was hard for him to say the words, doesn’t mean that he hadn’t said them. He wanted to make a big deal about resisting the temptation, you were going to make him regret that.

“Dalton,” you began, stepping so close to him that breathing a certain way would’ve pressed your chest into his. “If you had let me kiss you, you wouldn’t even have clothes on right now, Nick’s room be damned.”

He sucked in a harsh breath, his pupils dilating drastically. “My room’s closer. Let’s go watch a movie.”

For some reason, that has absolutely nothing to do with your aversion to vulnerability, this ticked you off. Your fury was reignited. Did he seriously think admitting to wanting to kiss you once would abate the months you spent pining after him? He literally rejected you, then pulled some sentimental crap to try to make up for it. Only to suggest Netflix and Chill. All men were the same.

You ignored the small voice in your head telling you that your precious virgin Dalton had never had sex, or been remotely intimate with a woman before. You ignored the fact that from how well you knew Dalton, he had no idea what sexual tension was and was simply trying to defuse the situation until he could get himself under control. So, you lashed out, because the sexual tension and anger felt safer. You didn’t want to go back to normal. You wanted him to do something. Anything.

“Fuck you. I’m not some skank who’ll screw you just because you invite me in for a movie. If I wanted a one-night stand, I could do better than you,” you hiss at him angrily before backing away from him. “As a matter of fact, I think that party is still kicking. I’ll go find someone there. I know Nick is probably desperate enough to show me a good time.”

You turned away and managed to make down to steps before Dalton displayed a rather impressive amount of strength and yanked back up into him, your back colliding with his chest.

Dalton reaches up to pull your hair across the back of your neck before leaning down to press his lips to your ear. “If you want a one-night stand, that’s fine. But don’t think for a second that that’s why I’m inviting you in. If you go into my room, you aren’t coming out when the night is over.”

Fuck that was hot. The universe must have speeded up the plot of this chapter for you, because how the hell did he do a complete one-eighty in the blink of an eye like that? You could feel the heat of his body soaking into yours and resisted the urge to lean into it. You refused to make this easy for him.

“What exactly are you offering that I can’t get from someone else? Someone that wants me more and is willing to show it. I don’t want it to be a fight every time between us because you can’t give me what I want until I’m begging.”

He pulls you away from the steps and presses your front against the wall. You are seriously debating whether or not you think he’s drunk right now. Normally, Dalton is never this upfront or confident. You liked it a lot and hoped it wasn’t some show.

“I like you begging, it turns me on,” he whispers while his face is tucked between your shoulder and neck. You feel yourself heating up for an entirely different reason as you feel his hips pressed into your ass. “But I promise to fulfill all your needs, every time.”

You laughed mockingly. “Oh? You can try, but I doubt you could really satisfy me without my help,” you taunted. Virgin men were usually cocky, having false ideations of skill and stamina. They usually disappointed, and you refused to indulge those ideations. But you weren’t looking for a quick fuck with Dalton, and you were happy to train him.

“Sex is a two way road, of course I’ll need your help,” Dalton his lips brushing your skin reverently, his tongue licking the flushed flesh in short and heated bursts. You moan, turned on even more by both his actions and his admittance. You were genuinely impressed, but it was getting gradually more and more difficult to focus.

You grab his hands and move them to your hips, pushing off the wall and further into Dalton. He whimpered, the sound reverberating in your ear and you slowly guided you both down the hallway backwards.

Dalton got the message and aimed himself towards his own dorm door. Miraculously, you two made it without having to separate and without falling over or tripping. The whole way hand Dalton exploring your torso without ever going too far up or down. His fingers played with the edge of your shirt and his face remained burrowed in your shoulder.

You hummed in discontent as he removed a hand to open the door as the other gripped your waist for balance. You lifted a hand to grip the hair at the crown of his head and keep his mouth tethered to you.

Finally in the privacy of his room, you turned and walked him to his bed, straddling his lap as soon as his knees buckled. You lean in for a kiss just as he’s adjusting his position under your weight and his chin hits your teeth painfully.

“Ah! Fuck,” You hiss with a wince. You lean away and you run your tongue over your top teeth to check for blood.

“Shit, sorry!” Dalton’s hands come up to cradle your face and check for a busted lip or potential bruising.

“It’s fine…” An awkward air ruins the mood a bit and you chuckle nervously as the unpleasant tension set in.

“I acted like such an idiot,” Dalton groans, burying his face in your neck again, only this time in embarrassment. “Acting all big shit. Like I actually knew what I was doing.”

“So you’re happy that you slammed your hard head into my face?” You tease, running your fingers through his hair.

“God, no! And it was totally your fault, you were all over me,” he denies with a laugh, pulling you closer and hugging your body to his.

You scoff and use your hand in his hair to yank his head away from your throat. He groans but complies easily enough and meets your gaze head on and without hesitation.

“I have feelings for you. More than just having a crush or being attracted to you. I wanna be with you, in all ways,” he whispers, the dark stillness of his dorm carrying the words and holding them between your bodies.

Dalton’s big blue eyes seem so clear to you in the low light; earnest and enamored. His fingers twitch against your back and you wonder if he’s trying to pull you closer or push you away to avoid your rejection.

You quickly quell his insecurities before they have time to fester and pull him in for a desperate kiss. Realizing it’s the first kiss you’ve shared, you slow down, enjoying the feeling of his inexperienced lips pressing against yours.

“I adore you.” You say simply, whispering just as he did. Your lips brush with the three words and he leans in a little closer with each one.

Dalton initiates the next kiss, eager and happy, his lips pulled up in a smile against you. His hands settles in the locks of hair behind your ears to drag you further into the kiss. Your own hands move to his shirt, wrinkling the soft fabric and gasping into Dalton’s mouth.

He grabs your hands and removes them from his shirt, using the freedom to remove the garment altogether. His hands don’t stop there, though, and you quickly find yourself topless and breathing hard from your perch in his lap.

You push him down on his back into the mattress and cover his body with your own, kissing and licking at the exposed skin. As you go lower, you come to find that Dalton is quite loud when aroused.

“Please! Please, please, please…” His begging trails off in favor of gasping moans as you begin undoing his pants.

“How far have you gone, Dal?” The only sounds in the room are the sounds of his heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes as you pull his pants down.

His boxers hide an impressive tent and you quickly relieve him of that particular burden as well. Dalton’s hands clawed at the covers of his bed, his eyes silted and watching you.

“N-no, nothing. Chris kissed me at a party once to distract Nick,” he breathed in a rush, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as his dick slapped against his stomach.

God, it was pretty. Seeing as it didn’t get a lot of action, Dalton didn’t do the best job with maintenance, but it didn’t look gross or dirty, just unkempt. Circumcised with thick veins running along the sides, his cock made your mouth water.

You can see why he didn’t want to kiss you at that party, the similarities making you huff a chuckle to yourself. You blew a cold breath onto the head of his cock and watched his abs tense up.

“Please, baby, please. Anything!” He rose up on his elbows and fixed you with a needy stare. You flushed at the attention and focus on his erection, using his arousal for you as a means to ground yourself.

You use the influx of saliva in your mouth to lubricate his length, licking a long stripe from the base. Dalton released a long sigh of relief that ended with a whine.

You wrap your lips around the head and hallow your cheeks. Dalton cries out and his hands fly from his sheets to your head. You’re not sure if he’s trying to pry you off of him or keep you where you are.

His hips raise slightly off the bed, pushing his cock further into your mouth. You decide he’s trying to keep you there. Now that you’re paying more attention to him rather than his genitals, you can hear that he’s muttering to himself. At least, it’s too quiet for you to assume he’s trying to actually talk to you.

“So wet…so good…fuck yes…please…” Most of what he was saying was unintelligible and he kept cutting himself off with moans.

Smirking around his cock, you take all of him down your throat at once. Dalton’s eyes fly open and he shoots up, accidentally pushing you even further onto him, your nose flush with his pelvis.

Dalton’s making a weird face, a cross between pain and pleasure, and he pushes you off of him. Bracing himself against your shoulders, he takes slow and deep breaths for several moments.

“Why’d you stop me?” Your voice is slightly hoarse from the unexpected deep-throating, but you’re grinning up at him like he’s the second coming of Christ.

“I didn’t want to be done yet,” he murmurs once he’s calmed himself down.

You laughed and stood from your position to kiss him soundly. He pulled you back on top of him before rolling you onto your back, kissing your shoulders and chest much in the same way you did, and traveling lower.

“Dalton, you don’t have to. We can do more next time. I need you now!” What you said was partially true, but another part was that you didn’t want to waste time taking him through it. At least not right now.

“Just wan’ a taste. Wanna taste. Real quick. Wanna taste you, baby,” He tells you between biting kisses. Your skirt is pulled off, his nails leaving red trails down your hips and thighs.

His thumbs and forefingers are spreading your folds and you choke on air as Dalton licks a bold stripe down your labia. You jolt in place and your hips rut off the bed as he does it again. And once more. And one more time. It’s so simple, no technique or maneuvering, just licks. Enough to stimulate, but not enough to get you anywhere near completion. It’s like he’s torturing you.

“Fuck! When we’re done, I’m gonna pin you down and have at you for hours. Gonna fill myself with you. Gonna make you cum all over my face.” He stops licking to leave sucking kisses. First on your folds and somewhere he may have thought was your clit, then to your thighs and up your stomach.

“And I’ll tell you exactly how to do it right. But I really want something bigger than your tongue in me right now,” you urge, wrapping a leg around his hip.

He nods and grabs a pillow under your hips, impressing you further. You make an approving face at him, kissing him deeply. He moans into the kiss as he begins entering you.

You break the kiss and toss your head back in a whine, your back arching off the bed and pushing your chest into his. Dalton latches onto your nipple, the extra stimulation causing your hips to thrust up against his and your pussy sucking him in the rest of the way.

Dalton’s initial pace was shaky and unsure. He was struggling between what felt best to him and what he thought might feel good to you. His hands fluttered along your flesh, going from light caresses to harsh groping whenever a thrust felt particularly good to him.

His eyes kept flashing to yours in questioning, then looking away in embarrassment. Warmth filled you at the effort he was putting into making his first time good for you. You just wanted him to cum inside you, you just wanted him to enjoy it fully.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed lightly. Dalton immediately pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Does it not feel good?” He starts rambling, his insecurity shining through. He’s grabbing a blanket and trying to wrap you in it when you stop him by grabbing hands.

“Are you enjoying this, Dalton?” You ask, pushing your own body up and pressing yourself into him. He wraps his arms around you and breathes a sigh of relief seeing as you weren’t rejecting him.

“God yes, just want to make you feel good,” he replies in your ear. His hands are going up and down your back and you can feel him, hot and hard, against the cushioning of your stomach.

“This isn’t just a one-time fling, Dalton. But it is your first time, I wan this to be about you,” you assure him, cradling his handsome face in your hands. His long hair is missed sound his head, the soft and minimal lighting making it shine like a halo.

“How can I feel good if you don’t?” He questions with a look so innocent that you could’ve been fooled into thinking he wasn’t talking about sex.

“I am feeling good, Dalton. But this time is all about you,” you push, widening your eyes at him comically for dramatic effect.

“I wanna make you cum. I want you moaning, loudly. I want you all over me for the rest of my life,” he reiterates, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder.

You shiver and moan at his words, pulling away from him and turning around, bending over on your hands and knees.

“You wanna make us both feel good? Fuck me like this,” you demand, peering at him from over your shoulder.

Dalton is slack-jawed and staring at you in awe. In less than a second later, he’s pouncing on top of you and layering his body over you like a second skin. The sounds leaving his mouth are loud and plentiful as he entered you for the second time.

You can also hear the slapping of his hips and balls against your ass and the slickness of your cunt as he pounded into you. You couldn’t tell the difference between your moans and his as he fucked into you deeper. You thrusted back against him, crying out into his ear and encouraging him.

“Fuck, Dalton! Yes! Just like that! Doing so good for me! Yes! Fuck! Yes!”

His fingers curled around your hips as he forced you to accommodate the grinding of his hips into yours. His movements were leagues more confident, and desperate. He was chasing his and yours releases, fucking into you wildly.

“You feel…amazing! Love this tight pussy! Warm and wet and…sooo fucking good for me! Gonna fuck you every day, fill you up. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine now, they’re gonna know how much you want me!” He growled, thrusting into you harder.

You knew he was close, his movements becoming jerky and out of pace. You were getting close, too, much to your surprise. You could feel that coil stretching within you. And you knew just the thing to snap it.

“I want you, Dalton! Want you so bad! Need you! Cum inside me, right now! Please! No one makes me wet like you, Dalton. Ooh, I’m about to cum,” you yell, reaching down to rub your clit in time with every pass of his cock within you.

It takes four harsh pumps of his hips for him to cum and the rubber band snaps as his warmth fills you to the brim. You see white as your orgasm washes over you and sends you reeling over that sweet edge in pleasure.

Dalton rolls off of you and pulls you over him, reaching up to turn on his fan. The coolness feels nice against your sweaty skin and you can feel his cum dripping down your thigh. It feel gross but you don’t want to ruin the moment.

Luckily, Dalton jolted out of bed unexpectedly and jumbled his way to a stack of wash clothes. Wetting one with a water bottle, he cleans you up and hands you the bottle to drink from.

You giggle at his treatment and snuggle into his side, excited to wake up as Dalton Lambert’s girlfriend.

******

Oh my fucking god, I know the ending sucked, I promise. I ran away from a toxic household a couple of weeks ago but I’ve had this in my drafts for nearly a month and needed to finish it. Not only am I answering a poll, but I’m celebrating 100 followers!

Im so excited and grateful with this achievement and I hope to get into the flow of writing more often now that I’m adjusting to my new living situation. Please, feel free to send requests and interact with my posts

Like, share and reblog please, love y’all and I hope y’all enjoy!

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