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dixonsgirl93 · 1 year ago

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Locked in with Daryl Dixon

Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

Warnings: smut, mutual hand jobs

Word count: 1.2k

Requested by anon

Daryl motions for you to get in the boot, you clamber inside, quickly followed by him who ties the trunk shut with a bloodied rag. The growl and shuffle of walkers gets louder, the car rocking as they bumped into it. They banged on the trunk door, smelling the sweat on you both.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the rag would be enough to keep you both safe. The trunk was getting increasingly humid, sweat dripped down your back and into your eyes. You tried several times to wipe it away to no avail.

Eventually you were met with a storm, along with the noise of the dead, the sky crackled with thunder, the wind howling in the gaps around you. As if the night could get any worse.

On the bright side, you had Daryl with you who had shuffled back to give you more space in the cramped trunk. While you were grateful, also having claustrophobia, you also wished he’d hold you. You wished a lot of things but knew you wouldn’t get it. Being at least 10 years younger than the man, he probably saw you at best as a little sister. You sighed unintentionally, expressing your disdain for the whole situation.

“You all right?” Daryl’s rough voice came from behind you. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “You sure? You been breathing heavy for hours. You got asthma?” You shook your head.

“I’m fine.” You whispered, shakily, proving you were anything but.

One particular loud bang of a walker on the trunk made you jump and yelp. A warm, heavy hand squeezed your hip gently.

“Don’t worry. We’re safe enough.” His voice was a low rumble in his throat. The vibrations of his chest against your back sent coils of pleasure to your groin.

Another loud clap of thunder as the storm passed overhead made you jump again. You always hated sudden loud noise like that. Daryl’s hand snaked around your waist and pulled you in to his chest, his hand flat against your stomach. You became ultra aware of every part of your body that touched his, momentarily forgetting the storm and the walkers.

You froze for a moment, taken aback at his sudden touch. You had no idea how to approach this. You were sure, however, that this was merely a comforting gesture and not because he had feelings for you.

During the night, while you both lay there, huddled close, another, smaller wave of walkers pass, bumping into the car and startling you awake. For a moment you forgot where you were, feeling only the heat and the pressure of someone holding you. Panic rises in you before a hand gently squeezes your middle.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s me.” A reassuring voice grumbled next to your ear. He sounded a little groggy too, like he’d been napping. Although you were sure he hadn’t, he was always too wired in situations like these.

You start to fidget and try to stretch your limbs and your back and accidentally press into Daryl’s crouch. His hand freezes on your middle.

“Don’t wiggle so much.” His face, his voice, buried in your hair, almost growls and that’s when you feel a new pressure press against your ass.

“Oh.” You whisper and his hand moves over your hip and to hold you there, squeezing gently. A soft grunt escapes him and you decide to test him, pushing your ass back into his crotch again.

“Stop. Please.” His voice comes out strained. Was he really turned on by you? You do it again, wiggling a bit for emphasis. His hand swings around your middle again and he pulls you tight into him, pushing down on your hips so his erection was right against you. You can’t help but moan, soft and breathy. His hand lets go and moves over your thigh, up over your hip, over your arm and back down again leaving your skin feeling electric.

At some point the storm outside passed and the walkers became fewer. Daryl decides to slip a hand under your shirt to massage a breast. You moan and your head falls back a little, enjoying the feel of his large, warm, calloused hand on you.

“You like when I do this?” Daryl’s ragged voice broke the silence. You nod and decide you really wanted to touch him too. Slipping a hand behind you and over his crotch you cup his erection through his jeans. He lets out a grunt and his dick pulses against your hand.

“You’re being so unfair, Daryl.” You whimper, massaging his erection.

“Says you with ya hand on ma dick.” He grunted, effectively humping your hand. “I know I’m being selfish, but you’re enjoying it. So who’s the real winner, here?” He pressed his face in your neck and nuzzled, kissing gently.

Without a word Daryl moved his hand from your shirt and glided it down your body to the buckle of your jeans, here he gently, quietly undid them and slipped a hand in. His fingers found your clit and circled gently. You moaned and grinded back on him, craving more.

“Easy girl, you’re rocking the car.” He murmured into your ear, his breath sending shivers over your skin. You whimpered as his hand sped up, two delightful fingers sending waves of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough.

You move your hand from outside his jeans and clumsily try to put your hand inside, wrapping a hand around his veiny, throbbing, raging hard cock.

“Fuck.” You gasp, as he thrust into your hand. You were both so desperate for each other, needy, horny as hell but neither of you moved much, neither of you dared turn or shuffle out of clothes in case you brought attention to the car.

“If I keep doing this, reckon you’ll cum on my hand, princess?” He growled, his voice low and hungry. Wetness pooled and the sound of his fingers working on you made it loud in the trunk. “You’re so wet, does my voice turn you on?”

You nod. Your other hand reaches and presses his onto you, increasing the pressure and building up the orgasm, ready for release. Daryl circles his fingers faster and a loud moan escapes you.

“That’s it. Come on.” He urges, thrusting more into your hand. You gasp, gripping his dick as your orgasm comes to the surface, letting out a grunt of pleasure. “Good girl.” He grunts, breathless, as his cock throbs hard before a hot liquid pumps over your hand. He whimpers as his dick becomes sensitive, getting every drop of his cum out onto you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, breathless. He moves his hand from your clit and hugs you around your waist, making sure you stay as close as possible to him.

A couple of moments pass in near silence, both of you spent. You take your cum-covered hand out of his pants, wiping on a rag in the car, smiling at the fact any of it even happened.

“Hey.” You whisper, nudging Daryl gently. “It’s quiet outside. We can leave.” You untie the rag and both of you climb out, buttoning your jeans back up.

Daryl looks up at you and smiles cheekily like he’s just got away with stealing candy.

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago

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A Quick Run

Summary: Spencer attempts to exercise with Reader.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 638

When you told Spencer you were thinking about getting into fitness again, he was excited to tag along. Maybe so you’d have an easy opponent. Maybe because he’d take any excuse to spend time with you.

Even if that meant taking a run through a nearby cemetery. He wasn’t afraid of cemeteries or anything. He actually found them quite peaceful. This is especially since besides the comfort they can give to living loved ones, they are largely untouched areas of land that should be used more by the public. No, the issue is that this cemetery is quite… hilly. And Spencer couldn’t oversell his lack of coordination or breath control.

And it’s when he gets out of the car and spots you doing stretches at the beginning of the path that he realizes he made a huge mistake. You’re even jogging in place, eager to get moving. Spencer could not relate less. If anything, his heart is pounding from inevitable embarrassment.

“Ready, go!” You exclaim before taking off. Spencer follows, picking up his arms and legs with every step. He's already winded and the burning wraps his thighs quickly. Meanwhile, you jog like you’re floating on air. Like it’s all-natural to you. Like you actually workout regularly (or at all, unlike him).

He catches your eye as you look back, noticing your pace slowing. “You go ahead!” He shouts, still trying not to look like exhaustion and heat are already bright red on his face. “You’re doing great! Go!” He throws his arm toward the first hill like it’s not about to pop out of its socket any minute.

When you turn around to pick up your pace, your natural pace, Spencer slows down to what could be considered a slight jog or a wounded animal. His lungs become dust in his throat. He looks around at the headstones, some clean and decorated and others barely withstanding time. He wonders if any of them would enjoy a new neighbor. And it’s when you disappear over that first hill that he finds a vacant patch of grass to collapse on top of. He cooks himself in the late spring sun. Every exhale sounds like he’s a cartoon character exaggerating an asthma attack, and the pain makes him question (briefly) if he actually is.

He heaves while lying flat on the short grass, surely sucking down a couple of gnats in his suffering. He shielded his eyes from the sun. Spencer wished he could impress you. Three doctorates and being an FBI agent only mean so much when encouraging someone new in his life to stick around. He thought his drive to put in effort would be enough. He’s not even sure that drive would be enough to even catch up to you.

“Spencer.”

He looks over to the path, seeing you in leggings and a tank along with a graceful layer of sweat causing you to glisten in the sun. If air could have stayed in his lungs he would’ve said something. Maybe an apology or insisting he needed five more minutes. But you were already close, and you held out your hand to help him up.

Spencer swallowed what bit of spit he had collected in his desert of a mouth, then took your hand. You brushed dirt and grass from his sweatshirt. “We can do this another time.” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine.” He somehow says. “I’ll just be a… a pit stop for you.”

You chuckled. “Come on, pretty boy.” You touch his back as you walk toward the car. “We can rest while watching Dr. Who.” You even threw one of Spencer’s arms around your shoulder.

“Actually that sounds good,” Spencer says. “I can do that.” His fingers make contact with the skin on your arm, and he thinks that this might’ve been worth it.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert

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mysaintkitten · 1 year ago

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Face riding Martin from retreat please

omg i’m so glad someone asked ..

Ride It | Martin x fem!reader

prompt: martin desperately wants you to ride his face (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: oral (f receiving), premature coming (lol ??)

word count: 1.3k

“come on! pleaaaaase!” martin begs, “we came to this island to spend time together alone! and now that we’re here, your deeply devoted husband wants you to sit on his face. is that too much to ask?”

you shuffle through your mental list of pros and cons, “what if i suffocate you? or hurt you? you have asthma, martin!”

“i will die a happy man.” he responds unfazed

you giggle and sigh, “okay, okay, maybe. let’s talk about it later.”

he grins widely before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, “that’s what i like to hear.”

as the day goes by the topic goes seemingly unmentioned, but martin didn’t forget. the glimpse of approval you gave him had his mind fixated on it for the entirety of the day. it didn’t help that you were the only person around as well, whenever he saw you all he could think about was you sitting on his face. using him to get off. he wouldn’t consider himself submissive, but when it came to your pleasure he’d get on his hands and knees for you.

the hours passed and you and martin did regular, couple-like things. cooking together, cleaning up together, eating together, taking a shower together, the shower wasn’t even sexual. it was intimate, but sweet. you cleaned his hair, and he washed your body, and you enjoyed each others presence.

the evening progressed and eventually you ended up in bed together. he kisses along your neck and jaw, smiling against your skin as you giggle softly.

“so ..” he hums into your neck, “about that offer .. can i get an answer?”

you groan, “martin, i’m not sure.”

he whines, “please baby,” he slides his hand down between your legs and begins to rub you through your panties, “i want to, so bad ..”

you moan at his actions and his desperation, knowing how badly he wanted to please you gave you immense amounts of confidence.

he pulls his head out from your neck while slipping his hand into your panties to rub you directly, “please?” he whispers

“o-oh-“ you gasp quietly, finding it harder and harder to deny him, “okay, fine, i’ll do it.”

he grins from ear to ear as he pulls himself away and takes his hand out of your panties, laying his body flat beside you. you slip off your panties and begin to straddle his chest.

“wait, take this off first.” he asks while grabbing your shirt. you hesitantly comply, feeling a bit awkward being fully naked while he’s still completely clothed.

you toss your shirt to the side and scoot yourself forward until your knees are on either side of his head and your hands are on the headboard.

you look at him from below you, you can’t see his mouth but you can tell he’s still smiling. he runs his hands along the outer sides of your thighs while placing small kisses on your inner thighs.

“now, lower yourself down ..” he whispers as he sneaks his hands up to your hips, gripping them as he pulls you down so your pussy connects with his mouth. you slowly sink yourself down while reminding yourself to not rest your full weight on him, the last thing you want to do is hurt him.

he groans against you as your pussy meets his tongue, he wastes no time and begins to suck your clit, your knees almost give out.

“a-ah, martin ..” you moan, the sensitivity of your clit making you involuntary jolt up away from his tongue slightly, he mumbles some sound of disapproval before pulling you back down onto his mouth, this time deeper with more pressure. you’re not hovering above his face anymore, you’re full on sitting.

you allow yourself to give in, martin clearly wants it like this, worst case scenario he could smack your thigh if he needed air.

he continues to lap you up, shifting his face around so he can tongue your hole while teasing your clit with his nose, you whimper loudly at the sensation. he’s given you head before, obviously, but never like this.

as he sticks his tongue out flatly, he moves your hips forward and back, guiding you riding his face.

you start to pick up on his not so subtle hints and laugh breathily, “you want me to ride your face?”

you glance down at the man beneath you, he looks euphoric, half-lidded and dazed with blown out pupils, he nods lazily. he’s so incredibly hard his mind has gone completely blank, all he wants is to be a warm mouth and stiff cock for you to use and abuse until you’re happy.

you roll your hips without his guidance, moaning louder as he continues to move his tongue with you, suckling and licking your most sensitive areas. he creeps his up from your hips to your tits, gripping the pillowy flesh.

you remove your hands from the headboard and place them on his thighs to help ride his face better. you watch him, glossy eyes and red cheeks, with his hands now grabbing your tits as you rut your cunt against his face. every now and then you get a small glimpse into the bottom half of his face, which is slick with your arousal and his spit.

you can feel yourself becoming more wet, martin notices, he whines against you while gripping one of your tits a bit more harshly before sliding a hand down to your ass, kneading it roughly.

from behind you, you snake your hand between his legs, where through his pants you can feel his hard length. you hum as you begin to palm him, feeling a small damp patch where his tip is.

you chuckle, “you wanted this really bad, didn’t you?”

he whines against your cunt and nods, shifting his head around to try and lick you in the most pleasurable way.

“m-mar-ah!” you gasp as you feel your orgasm approaching, “marti-n, ‘m close.”

he moans and smacks your ass, sucking on your clit again while you grind against his face. your thighs twitch around his head, they’re becoming more unstable the closer you get.

he licks around your hole, swallowing your arousal as it spills out. he could drink you up, live off you, if given the chance. he hums against you before bringing his tongue and lips back up to your clit, the vibrations becoming all too much.

your hips jerk and your legs shake, you’re so close to coming it’s almost unbearable.

“yes, yes!” you gasp, “right there, i’m c-coming!”

he just moans against you again, continuing his repetitive licks and sucks as your orgasm finally hits.

your body spasms and your moan nearly sounds like a shout. as you’re coming, your legs give out, putting your full weight on his face. martin makes no attempt to lift you off, he just groans against you and continues to use his tongue on you.

it quickly becomes too overstimulating and you shakily lift yourself off his face while whimpering and drop your body beside him.

martin huffs. his lips pink, puffy, and slick, his pupils still dilated. he laughs weakly before swallowing, “thank you.”, as he places his hand onto your thigh and rubs it soothingly. you kiss him on the cheek and hum, “i should be thanking you ..”

you run your hand along his torso and palm him again through his pants, he winces quietly and shifts away.

“what?” you ask, clearly confused, “don’t you want me to return the favour?”

“uh .. you won’t have to worry about that ..” he mumbles, beneath your hand you feel the damp spot has gotten clearly wetter since the last time you touched him.

“did .. did you come in your pants?” you whisper, nearly laughing at him

he rolls his eyes and teases, “i couldn’t help it. you tasted too nice.”

—

i’m recovering from a severe hangover hope y’all are doing good !! hahah

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #martin from retreat #lol #hope y’all like this #:)#request

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1-800-local-slut · 1 month ago

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Practice

Notes: I don’t care what anyone says, werewolves have a mating season or something. I was on 2014 Wattpad when mating season fanfics were a thing, just let me have this.

Scott McCall needs to practice some self-control.

Kinktober Masterlist

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Scott McCall, is a beast. You can’t convince me otherwise, he literally is. He’s a animal on the field, when it comes down to it he got so good by practicing. Hours and hours of painstaking practice hindered by his asthma but now he was undoubtedly great. With his enhanced physicality plus the gift all that practice got him captain of the lacrosse team. Practice was discipline, which Scott tries to instill in himself along with him pack members.

Discipline and practice led Scott to be a diplomat who always tried to see the best in others and try to find the best way to lead his friends and anyone else he promised to protect to the best path possible. He practiced anything he needed to excel in. He practiced controlling his urges as a werewolf. Practice in making the hard choices he has to make as a leader, practice in balancing his life. Yes, practice was the defining factor in Scott’s life.

So when Scott met you and knew that he wanted, no, needed to be with you for the rest of his days he practiced. He knew what that meant. He wanted to be with you no matter what, and one day have a bunch of kids with you (when he ‘jokingly’ said five, you laughed so hard you choked) had to practice being a man. Not a ‘man’ in the sense that he was big and mature. No, he had to practice being the man you needed.

He had to practice adjusting to your culture, your needs, your view on life as a black woman. And once he did, the good times rolled and haven't stopped since then. Lately, with a new Spring though Scott felt as if he needed more practice. Or more discipline. He wasn’t sure which.

Everyday he was horny. Every night he was horny. Every afternoon he was horny. It was like how some people get allergies, Scott was afflicted daily. Instead of swollen eyes he had a swollen dick and nothing was helping. Meditating, tea, trying to focus, having sex with you. Nothing.

Eventually it got to the point when you had to tell him you needed a break. It was constant. Constant creampies, orgasms, hair pulling, kisses, words of affirmation and aggression, and you needed a break. So, you booked yourself a spa treatment to escape Scott’s urge to hammer his hips into yours as hard as possible and left him to himself for the day. All his practice was failing him at the moment. He couldn’t force himself relax, to not open any photos of you and immediately jerk off like it wasn’t 8:15 in the morning. He hadn’t even had breakfast. What happened was, he woke up to you giving him a kiss goodbye. He got a whiff of your perfume as you floated through your bedroom door then once he heard your apartment door close.

What was his favorite little trick to stop himself from giving into his base urges? A trip down memory lane of course.

More specifically the time you too had sex and he came so hard that you almost got turned into a werewolf on accident. And when he realised he may have been so persistent because he wanted to fuck you because he was amazing filling you and your apartment with kids. With little boys and girls (perhaps three or four) running around. Maybe a boy with his hair and your eyes? A girl who was the perfect combination of the two of you together? Maybe twins, a boy who took after you and a girl who took after him? Either way, Scott fucked you like he was about to make it happen.

He fucked you with such intensity that morning that you were out of commission for the rest of the day. The room was a dark red color from the small special lights you two bought for your bedroom when you first moved, and he didn't know red could make someone look so good. The sweat shimmering on your skin, the creamy ring you left around the base of his dick, while he growled over you. His eyes ran over your skin, admiring the myriads of hickeys he had bitten into your skin.

You were like a work of art that Scott was blessed to admire for the rest of his days. He slammed himself into you that night, while you squealed and shook from the pleasure. Your dark brown beauties rolling back would be concerning to Scott in any other situation but in that moment it was all he wanted. He wanted to see you spazz out and droll over him. He wanted your eyes to roll back, he needed to see you moan with clarity from feeling him cum inside of you.

When he slipped out, he decided that night he could give you a slight break, and was in your face roughly kissing you. You were perfect, so as he leaned down and closer to you his hand found his dick. He hissed, from the warmth of your hand and feeling his dick stimulated from the gorgeous woman giving him a hand job. You were both breathing heavily while sloppily making out but Scott couldn’t let you do better handy work than him. What type of man would he be?

Taking two fingers, determined to get you ready to go again, Scott used all the practice he’d gained over the years and his knowledge of how girls worked, pressed two fingers against your wet clit. You were slick, and very hot down there. In truth, he would’ve gone for your tits, warm and soft like two large pillows but he’d had to stop kissing you for that. He settled for rubbing two fingers up and down your pussy, hearing you whimper. Relishing in every shudder of your body, how you whimpered in his ear.

Two fingers slipped inside of you, and he was fighting back the urge to push you on your back and bite you until you were crying from joy. But Scott has to remember there is such thing as too rough, something he learned after what he refers too as the ‘incident’ and you call ‘the almost trip to the emergency room’ either way he learned that lesson. So with practice he made sure he never hurt you that way again in such an intimate moment.

You moaned into his kiss, and he remembered to give you a softer kiss. Something just a little bit softer while he passionately thrusted his fingers inside of you. You were giving him a handjob so good he was about to drop to his knees and give you his entire life. After a moment, he slipped back into you, his grip on your hair returning.

Your mascara was running down your face, while he tried easing back into the thrusts. He didn’t want to immediately overwhelm you. You moaned and that was his sign, to pick up the pace. He was about to cum inside of you and act on that little urge of his. You liked creampies anyways. Thats an understatement, you loved creampies. Now you were staring into his eyes, moaning nonsense to him.

Telling him you were his, bad move. Now there was no chance for him to have the good sense to pull out of your pussy. Well according to you, his pussy but he wasn’t picky (those words made his head spin). When you moaned out for him to cum in you, what was he supposed to do? ‘Oh no thanks sorry babe!’ he did what any man so lucky to see you this way would do: he doubled down. Holding you in place his eyes flashed down at you and his whole body trembled. His stomach clenched and he sunk his teeth into the crevice of your neck, leaving a dark bruise to form there.

One more thrust as you creamed all over him, arching your back while you moaned nonsense about how much you adored him and ‘thank yous’ while he rolled his hips into you. He saw it so clearly. He saw you, pregnant and planting a soft kiss onto his forehead while you sat with a toddler next to you.

Recalling this event was supposed to help Scott trick himself into calming down. Still he couldn’t stop himself. In the past, Scott was able to calm himself by recalling all the past times and telling himself not to be greedy because you two had incredible sex all the time.

But what the hell? Everyone has lapses in discipline, and some practice never hurt anything. Shrugging out of his pajama pants, he grabbed the led remote close by flicked on those red lights you were under a few nights ago.

#black reader #x black reader #x reader #fem reader #multifandom account #requests open #kinktober 2024 #teen wolf scott #teen wolf smut #teen wolf #scott mccall x black reader #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall smut

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bagerfluff · 1 year ago

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Love Fights

Set in season one - Scott McCall x Male Reader

Prompt - "I can't believe I did that"

Y/n would not call himself a violent person. He normally stayed in the back and tried to solve conflicts with words rather than fist. But something in him snapped when he saw Jackson bullying Scott. Y/n didn’t really know Scott. They talked a couple of times, but they weren’t friends. But Y/n found the boy cute. With his fluffy brown hair, brown eyes, his slender but muscular build, even his uneven jaw looked cute. Plus, he looked hot playing lacrosse. Y/n cared about the boy, a lot more than normal since he started acting weird.

He seemed to get magically better at lacrosse, he seemed to have really sensitive hearing, and he no longer needed his asthma inhaler. Y/n wondered the answer to all of these questions but he never had the confidence to ask Scott or his friend Stiles for the answers. So Y/n just watched like the answers would hit him in the face. And thinking about it made Y/n feel like a stalker. But it never happened, but what did was Jackson deciding to bully Scott. Y/n watched from his locker as it happened.

Scott was alone, Stiles nowhere to be seen. So Scott took the yelling. That didn’t make Y/n mad, but what did was when Jackson decided to punch Scott in the jaw. Y/n didn’t know what came over him but he dropped his bag, slammed his locker shut, walked over to Jackson, and punched him in the face. Y/n didn’t stop there. He then punched Jackson in the gut. Then he kicked his legs out from under him. Got on top of him. Then Punched him. Again and again and again and again. Y/n would have kept going if Scott didn’t pull him off.

Once of the now bloody and bruised Jackson, Scott dragged Y/n to an empty classroom and shut the door. Y/n didn’t really understand what happened until the adrenalin wore off. His breathing slowed as he looked down at his knuckles. They were covered in blood and were bruised. Jackson didn’t manage to land a punch on Y/n so there was no blood anywhere else. Y/n’s eyes widened as he looked at his knuckles. Why did he do that? He was going to get detention. Jackson’s family could sue.

“I can’t believe I did that” Y/n said so quietly that if it wasn't for Scott’s werewolf hearing, he wouldn’t have heard it. “Me neither” Scott said as he walked closer to Y/n. “Come on” Scott said after a minute “we need to go to the nurse”. But Y/n didn’t move. He had attacked a guy. He could have killed him if Scott didn’t pull him off. Once Scott realized that Y/n wasn’t going to move, he grabbed his hand and dragged him to the nurses office.

This caused a red color to come to Y/n’s face as Scott gestured to him to sit on one of the shitty beds they have in the office. A few minutes later the nurse appeared and told Scott to leave. Though Scott wanted to stay to ask Y/n why he beat up Jackson, Scott decided he could ask when Y/n was done getting patched up. So when Scott left he sat in one of the chairs outside the office.

Scott wondered why Y/n did what he did while he waited. Did he just feel like beating up Jackson? But that didn’t sound like Y/n. From the few times he talked to him he seemed like a guy that wouldn’t go around punching people. Plus he had heard that Y/n isn’t a violent guy. Maybe Y/n was mad that he punched Scott. It didn’t hurt that much, plus with his super healing the bruise was already gone. But why would Y/n punch someone just because they punched him? Did Y/n care about him? They hadn’t talked many times so they were exactly friends.

Scott did find the mysterious boy good looking. With his h/l h/c hair, e/c eyes, s/c skin. The way he cared about his friends and what he loved. No one ever made him drop his passions or what he loved. If Y/n loved something he would protect it with his life. So maybe Y/n cared about Scott. Maybe he liked Scott. Scott shook his head. Scott wasn’t even sure if he liked the boy back. Scott wasn’t even sure if he was gay, or bi. Scott sighed. So much is happening that could change his life. The bite, the dead body, and now this. Wasn’t high school bad enough.

But it was the only explanation that made any sense. Scott was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Stiles running over to him and sitting next to him. “Scott!” Stiles screamed as he waved a hand in front of Scott’s face. Scott shook his head again and looked at Stiles. “Yay,” Scott said. “You good man” Scott nodded “I heard about what happened”. Scott's eyes widened “you did?” Scott asked, Stiles nodded. Scott looked back at the wall in front of him and continued to think as Stiles looked like he was thinking. “Do you know why Y/n did it?”

Stiles asked. Scott shook his head, not looking at Stiles. Stiles stopped talking, he wanted to think. Plus Scott didn’t look like he wanted to talk. A few minutes later Y/n stepped out of the nurse office with bandages around his knuckles. Y/n was looking at them like they still had blood on them. Scott abruptly stood up and looked at Y/n. Stiles and Y/n were both caught off guard by this. Stiles fell out of the chair he was sitting in while Y/n just snapped his head up to look at Scott.

Scott looked at Y/n for a few minutes before asking his question. “Why did you do it?” Despite Scott not saying what Y/n did, Y/n seemed to know what he was talking about. Looking back down at his hands Y/n sighed. Y/n knew why he did what he did. He was angry that Jackson hit Scott. The truth was that Y/n wanted to protect Scott. Scott always got bullied but Y/n didn’t do anything about it. Guess he did now.

But Y/n couldn’t tell Scott that. Scott didn’t like men. He didn’t like him. So Y/n lied “I was tired of Jackson beating people up just because he felt like it” he said. But Scott knew he was lying. Even though Scott knew that Y/n would never punch somebody, that isn’t what told Scott that he was lying. It was his heart beat. Scott knew that someone's heart rate went up when lying and that’s what happened to Y/n. Scoot supposed that was a positive to his new werewolf problem. “You're lying,” Scott said, forgetting that he should not imply to random people that he can hear more than the average human “I can hear your heartbeat.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. Was Scott lying or could he actually hear his heartbeat. Scott had to be lying. There was probably another way Scott found out he lied. Y/n’s friends told him that he was a really bad liar. Y/n tried to think of another lie but nothing came out of his mouth. Y/n sighed “I was mad that Jackson hit you.” Y/n said quietly. So quietly that Stiles, who was just watching what was happening, couldn’t hear him. But Scott could.

“Why” Scott asked as he walked closer to Y/n. Y/n took a step back as he avoided eye contact with Scott. Y/n didn’t even try to lie at this point. Y/n was ninety percent sure Scott wouldn’t tease him or tell anyone else that he liked him. “Because I like you” Y/n said but loud enough that Stiles heard him too. Scott was shocked. Y/n liked him. But did he like Y/n back? Scott didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But Scott didn’t even know what his feelings were. After a few minutes of silence. Y/n ran off down the halls of the school. He took that silence as rejection.

Scott wanted to run after him but the bell rang before he could. After Scott didn’t move Stiles grabbed his shoulder and took Scott to his next class. But Scott couldn't pay attention for any of his other classes. He was too busy thinking. Scott wondered if Y/n was okay. He also wondered if he liked him back. When the final bell rang Scott slowly walked out of class and walked slowly out of school and walked slowly to Stiles jeep.

Stiles was already there, waiting for his best friend. Once Scott got there he entered the jeep without saying a word neither did Stiles once he realized that Scott wouldn’t reply. But after a few minutes wondered what was wrong with his friend. “You good man,” Stiles asked. Scott’s head snapped to Stiles, like Stiles had scared him. Scott nodded, still not talking.

“What are you thinking about?” Stiles asked. “What Y/n said” Scott said, speaking for the first time since Y/n said it. Stiles nodded. “Well” Stiles said, glancing at Scott for a minute. “Do you like him back?” Stiles asked. “I-i don’t know” Scott stuttered. Stiles sighed before his eyes widened. “Okay” he said looking at Scott. “Imagine kissing Allison” Scott was confused by what his friend said but he listened anyway. Scott closed his eyes and imagined kissing the girl. After he was done he opened his eyes. “How was it?” Stiles asked once Scott was done.

“Okay” Scott replied. It wasn’t good but it wasn’t bad either. Scott didn’t really feel anything when he imagined it. He didn’t get butterflies in his stomach like the way people told him. “Now imagine kissing “Y/n,” Stiles said. Scott closed his eyes again and imagined kissing Y/n. Scott imagined Y/n putting his hands around his waist as Scott put his hands around his shoulders and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Scott’s eyes shot open. Imagining kissing Y/n was a lot better than imagining kissing Allison. Scott even had butterflies in his stomach. Scott’s eyes widened. He likes Y/n.

Stiles smirked as he looked at Scott, as if he could read his mind and know what he was thinking. “So” Stiles asked, still with a smirk on his face. “Great,” Scott said, a little breathless. Stiles laughed as he pulled up to Scott’s house. Scott got out of the car and was about to shut the door to the jeep before Stiles said something. “Make sure to tell him” the Stiles drove off. Without asking him Scott knew what Stiles was talking about. Scott needed to tell Y/n that he loved him at school tomorrow. Scott smiled at the thought. Scott entered his house with a smile that was brighter than the sun.

As Scott walked into the school he looked for Y/n. After a few minutes Scott spotted Y/n at his locker. Scott walked up to Y/n and pulled him into the nearest supply closet. “Wha-” Y/n didn’t get to finish as Scott had placed his lips on Y/n’s. Y/n’s eyes widened. Scott was kissing him. Y/n quickly started to kiss Scott back as he grabbed his waist. The kiss wasn’t perfect. Neither y/n nor Scott had experience kissing, but to them it was perfect. Scott put his arms around Y/n’s neck as he played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Y/n was the one to pull away. Y/n looked into Scott’s eyes as Scott smiled. “I like you too,” Scott said.

Now Y/n was the one who smiled.

#lgbtq #gay #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #male reader #male reader imagines #scott mccall x male reader #scott mccall

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 1 year ago

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Summary: B reading and A watching with their chin on B's shoulder

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

Warnings: boring dialogue?, probably me self-inserting in the self-insert i wrote

Word Count: 944

When you enter the bedroom, Jonathan can tell immediately that you've been crying. There are tear tracks on your face, and your breath, usually his anchor during his asthma attacks and like the flow of the river, comes in short little tides of gasps. You're trying to calm down but he doesn't think it's working.

Letting his book fall face-open on his chest, "What's happened, baby?" He’s chewing away at some Nicorette gum, absent-mindedly, the repetitive motion keeping his mind just faintly occupied enough so he can focus on what he’s reading.

He has a sneaking suspicion about what it was but he doesn't want to belittle you and assume things.

"Nothin'," you give him a weak smile, your eyes tired and glistening. Your voice breaks, "I was just watching a movie."

"Oh?" He shifts up on the bed, resting against the headboard. With his age, he's been forced to put pillows behind his back now, otherwise he'll wake up in the morning with a knot and he won't be able to get out of bed without your help. "Which one?"

You hesitate before looking down at the ground and murmuring, "It's a Wonderful Life."

Jonathan's not surprised. You loved that one, no matter how cheesy. You'd showed him photos of your college dorm and there was a big movie poster tacked up on the wall across from your bed.

For your birthday, he'd bought you the colourized CD and now like tradition, you watch it when the holidays roll around.

And like tradition you break down into tears at the end of it.

To my big brother George, the richest man in town.

"It's summer, honey, what are you doing watching a Christmas movie?"

You shrug, coming over to join him on the bed. You click into his side like a magnet. "Wanted to watch it again."

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Mmhm.”

He shifts and moves down again, his book sliding just that way to the left of his body. “Well, that’s all that matters then.”

Cuddling closer, so that he feels your breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, as it starts to regain its normal music, “What’re you reading?”

“Oh,” he holds up the cover for you to see. It’s a beaten-down, yellow, almost identical to the colour The Man in the Yellow Hat wore in the Curious George books, though that’s about where the similarities end. “The Life You Can Save. Peter Singer.”

“What’s it about?” Your hand follows down the trail of his chest, starting from his shirt collar, and rests on his lower tummy.

You were unlike anyone he’d ever dated after his divorce. You’d been shaped and moulded by your past like him. Craving touch and running away when it was given to you.

You’d been hurt. A guy you hadn’t named yet but talked about sometimes, just enough so Jonathan would be able to tell just what kind of accommodation you were asking of him.

The first time Jonathan kissed you, you didn’t even give him a chance to say good night before you were gone, the lock turning sounding like the door of a coffin closing.

Though that had been three years ago.

Now, you tuck your head into his neck and touch his tummy. Sometimes, you get a little scandalous and run your hands up his inner thighs.

But always in private, always alone, sharing your solitude with Jonathan.

“The morality of people knowing about poverty and doing nothing to stop it,” he says, flipping through the pages with his thumb at the edge of the book, before he closes it and hands it over to you.

You take it with a frown, and for a few moments, you go quiet as you read the back of it. “Is this for one of your classes?”

Jonathan’s just glad that you’re not thinking about the movie anymore, even if you claimed to enjoy it, he doesn’t like seeing you unnecessarily cry; another little of those funny knacks leftover from Mira, like when you stay the night at someone else’s and they tour the house, teaching you how to handle every temperamental doorknob and tap.

“Yeah, Intro to Ethics.”

“I didn’t know they had you teaching junior-level courses again.”

You place the book back on his chest, replace your hand where it rightfully belongs.

He shrugs, “I taught it a couple times during my postdoc…just trying to refresh my mind. Update the content a bit.”

With a little sigh, “I wish I had professors like you when I was in college.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. He cups the back of your head with his hand, “I do too.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading.”

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

But Jonathan hears what you wanted to say and picks up his book, flipping back to where he was. On cue, you place your head on his shoulder and tilt up.

Since Ava moved away to college, Jonathan’s got a lot more time on his hands. He’s finally gotten around to building you that window seat you always wanted, finishing up shows that he’s been meaning to watch for years now. Reading, writing, sleeping, eating.

He goes on long walks with you these days, pumping fresh, clean air into his lungs and making his attacks infrequent and far between. He hasn’t touched a cigarette or a lighter in months now.

It’s almost strange the amount of time he gets to spend on himself and you now. Maybe it’s a brief taste of what retirement is going to be like.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

#jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy x y/n #jonathan levy x female!reader #jonathan levy fluff #jonathan levy angst #jonathan levy fanfiction #jonathan levy fanfic #jonathan levy fic #jonathan levy x f!reader #jonathan levy imagine #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage imagine #scenes from a marriage fic #oscar isaac

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cgsf · 9 months ago

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Teen Wolf fanfiction recs:

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski [Part 6]

"the one where Derek gets high" 🔒 (E) by nighimpossible | 1,167 | Derek needs to find a way to relax, and Stiles is more than willing to assist.

"Sevens and Eights" (T) by calrissian18 | 10,092 | Stiles has a bandage slung under his chin like a disembodied helmet strap when Derek first meets him. It’s complemented by a chipped front tooth and a scrape of road rash across his cheek.

"in case of emergency" 🔒 (G) by nighimpossible | 970 | Derek finds out that he is Stiles' emergency contact in a surprising fashion.

"You Saw Me Standing Alone" (E) by anonymous | 43,947 | A pack of alpha werewolves is burning a war path through Beacon Hills; Stiles shouldn’t have the luxury of trying to get laid.

"Water for the Baby" (T) by afullrevolution | 12,134 | Stiles always thought his touch telepathy was frustrating, but finding out someone's a werewolf while trying to knock them on their ass? That's just fun.

"I Walked with You Once Upon a Dream" (T) by afullrevolution | 9,319 | Stiles has already seen his future and is confused about his past (it's all a bit like dreaming). Scott is just trying to help and Derek doesn't know what is going on, but is more than willing to go with it.

"Once, Twice, Three Times" 🔒 (E) by kth | 3,898 | The Beacon Hills Strangler, as Stiles has come to think of their newest serial killer, seems to have moved on from killing virgins for the time being. That doesn’t calm Stiles at all though; he knows about patterns. Sometimes they repeat.

"We're very fortunate, indeed" (T) by MemeKon | 2,055 | "Do you really think we'd be good together?" Stiles says, out of nowhere, eyes faintly narrowed, nose scrunched. "Like, honestly? Because everyone goes on and on about it, and I think--" "Does this look like a good time to be thinking about that?" He replies, mind blank and teeth long and menacing, clenched with a strength that makes his jaw ache after a few minutes. Body tense, curled like an iron spiral. "Well, excuse me." He whispers, hands tight on his weapon, long fingers paled from the pressure. "Let's talk about this the next time we get together for tea and cookies, shall we?"

"Better Than Revenge" 🔒 (E) by kth | 7,330 | Deucalion pokes at the ground with his cane, narrowly misses taking out a baby spruce. “Mm, you know it isn’t really a party with just two, Hale.” He smiles and, yeah, Stiles is scared shitless but also a little bit turned on.

"It's like he's all that" (T) by MemeKon | 3,639 | Stiles is different. Stiles is not nice under any definition of the word, he’s such an asshole. Sure, he’s a good guy deep down, he punched Jackson square in the jaw when he mocked the McCall kid for an asthma attack that one time, and Derek knows he helped Erica Reyes get that video of her seizure taken down, but he’s so— "Fuck off, Derek." Stiles tells him without sparing him a glance when Derek sits next to him on chemistry. "I’m not up to play She’s All That with you, dude."

"Lay us down (we're young and in love)" (M) by MemeKon | 3,673 | For all that Stiles acts like he knows his own value, acts like he's the shit, deep inside he's just a kid that's... What? Never been touched? But he has. Been touched, that is. There's Derek, who's pressed his hands everywhere Stiles has allowed him access to; and before that... There was the girl, Heather? And before... And before nothing. That's it.

"You got me trippin', stumblin', flippin', fumblin'" (T) by MemeKon | 3,640 | Stiles gives him a lopsided smile, asks him, “are you gonna let me in or what, man?”, gesturing at Derek expansively with his long, nimble fingers, and Stiles’ shirt is maybe a little small on his growing frame, because with the movement of his arm it shows a sliver of skin, a little of pale stomach, and Derek has to clear his throat. “Yeah, sure.” He says.

"Like wine upon the lips" (T) by MemeKon | 1,673 | “So, the word's on the streets that you're some sexy polyglot,” Stiles says, wiggling his eyebrows annoyingly before he slumps on the couch next to him and puts his feet on Derek's coffee table, limbs akimbo, loose and long. “Sexy polyglot,” Derek repeats, raising an eyebrow, and pushing Stiles' feet off the table with his own. “Yeah, you know, sexy man of many languages.” “I know what polyglot means,” he replies.

"I'm gonna write another traveling song" (T) by MemeKon | 5,732 | They are in Santa Rosa when he gets the first text. 'im sorry' Derek stares at it for what feels like a minute but is probably twenty seconds. Still excessive. The phone beeps again. 'for the Kate thing i mean. i'm sorry for bringing it up and rubbing your face in it'

"Outer Dark: A Pornographic Fever Dream" (E) by ahab2692 | 3,030 | It’s inevitable, Scott knows that now. Stiles and Derek will happen one way or the other. The only question left is how much blood will be spilled between now and then.

"Response" (M) by MemeKon | 1,077 | “It freaks me out a little when you do this.” Stiles says one evening upon finding him waiting for him on his room, heart racing, palms smelling of cold sweat. It makes every joint on Derek’s body ache. He’s wet and half naked, recently showered, and the trail of hair coming out of his low hanging shorts leading up to his navel is sticking to his skin and making Derek’s brain short circuit. “It shouldn’t,” he answers, trying to tear his eyes away from Stiles’ lower abdomen, from his hips and his- “you’re pack.”

"Questionable Life Choices" (E) by cancelcompassion | 10k+ WIP | Derek is resentful, Stiles looks surprisingly good without a shirt on, and then Stiles decides to Chuck Norris the shit out of some stuff.

"You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger" (E) by DevilDoll | 8,092 | "It's not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat." This is an AU with consensual BDSM sex acts, in which Derek supports Stiles financially in exchange for a sexual relationship. Stiles is of legal age.

"Once Kitten, Twice Shy" 🔒 (T) by Jerakeen | 718 | “Awww. Who’s a happy wolfy.”

"Something Weird" 🔒 (M) by Jerakeen | 1,455 | "So I pretend-held your hand," Stiles says with half a shrug. "How was that weirder than me doing things to your dick?"

"A Handprint on the Door" (T) by mrsvc | 5,233 | 5x Derek and Stiles ended up sleeping at the same time (but not necessarily together), and the one time they did.

"A Long Way To Go" (T) by tekmessa | 10,572 | Five times Derek happened to come across Stiles by accident, and one time Derek chose to seek him out.

"Found The Place To Rest My Head" 🔒 (M) by Lapin | 5,468 | There are selkies being controlled, and a witch out for power, and there's Derek and Stiles. There's always Derek and Stiles, and if Derek has his way, it will always, always be that way.

"frat au" (E) by endversed | 32,318 | Derek is a closeted frat boy, and Stiles gets under his skin.

"Five" 🔒 (M) by Jerakeen | 333 | Five. Five of them. He must’ve said it out loud because Stiles is also staring at his hand now, shocked and frozen. Derek doesn’t have the courage to look into Stiles’ eyes—not now, not after this—but his eyes move anyway, as if magnetized, and lock with Stiles’ over their tangled hands. "This is real," Stiles says.

"From the Cradle to the Grave" (T) by jezziejay | 4,207 | It’s not that the sheriff doesn’t like Derek. It’s just that he thinks Stiles could do better. But Stiles has been an adult for over two years now, so he can make his own choices. Even if they are terrible.

"Heatwave" 🔒 (E) by Jerakeen | 2,816 | The drug is called heatwave. It supposedly emulates werewolf heats on humans. And yes, Stiles is stupid enough to take it on a dare.

"The Scent of Ink" 🔒 (T) by bloodwrites | 587 | Stiles was ten the first time he met Derek Hale. He's almost certain Derek doesn't remember.

"i'm hard up for some time in your sheets" (E) by ToastMaloneIII | 6,640 | Derek coos gently and rubs the cat’s cheek, smiling when he purrs happily. “He plays hard to get but he’s a cuddle fiend. When I get home from work, he’s all over me.” Stiles smiles at the two of them and Derek hums in response, “Oh yeah?”. He takes a sip of his tea, notes how close they are sitting, and stretches his leg closer to Stiles’ as he sets his mug back on the table. He tracks the flick of Stiles’ tongue across his bottom lip with hungry eyes, heat pooling in his belly as desire bleeds into Stiles’ heavy gaze. “In his defense, I would be too.”

"you got a fast car." (T) by paradis | 1,565 | Scott stares, horrified, at where Stiles is drenched in someone else’s blood, and Derek’s hands are covered, and his DNA is all over the body of the clawed up deputy he’d tried to revive. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Stiles says. He’s not shaking or terrified. “You should go,” Derek says, and Stiles blinks. Stares down at himself. Stares back at Derek. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” Stiles says.

"lay your weary head to rest" (M) by Petr1chor | 3,877 | “I know you like being protective of him, Stiles,” Lydia said, her snark sounding sharper than usual, “But he’s the one who is most trained, and most likely to hold his own against her if something goes wrong.” “Stiles, I’m perfectly capable of making my own goddamn decisions,” Derek snapped. “We’re going ahead, everyone get ready, we leave in half an hour.”

"It's Been Four Hundred and Ninety Days" (T) by paradis | 4,486 | It’s been four hundred and ninety days, and it took Derek forever but they’re at day one again.

"Shove" (E) by Qayin | 1,741 | So maybe Derek shoved him around a bit when he saw the kid, so what? That was innocent. Completely innocent. Right until the moment where Derek just couldn’t pretend that it was innocent anymore. Derek liked it.

"All My Kingdoms Turn to Sand" 🔒 (E) by elisera | 6,477 | The real question is what Stiles wants. If he’s looking forward to seeing Derek again because they’ll complete what they started a long time ago or if Stiles is nervous because he’s feeling apprehensive. There’s a real possibility that he told the pack to finally send Derek up in order to tell him thanks, but no thanks. A lot can happen in six years; people change and grow apart and it isn’t like they were allowed to talk.

"take a step before running" 🔒 (M) by magneticwave | 7,314 | Stiles wants to win for America, okay? He wants to bone that constipated expression off of Derek Hale’s face on a bed strewn with American flags while Bruce Springsteen plays in the background and a bald eagle watches through the window with a single tear rolling down its cheek.

"Tiny Houses" (E) by ohmyjetsabel | 77,138 | So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

"Derek Hale's Hidden Talents" (E) by betp | 800 | Stiles and Derek are doing something they should be doing, in a place they shouldn't be doing it in.

"Option C) Some Bad Guys are Werewolves, but Not All Werewolves are Bad Guys" (T) by calrissian18 | 9,039 | Derek Hale—the Incredible Meat that Thinks—needs a math tutor. Stiles Stilinski needs something that will look better on his college applications than 'passable D&D Dungeon Master.' It's a match made in heaven. Er, right?

"Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset" 🔒 (E) by whiskey_in_tea | 18,285 | Stiles leaves Beacon Hills on a Sunday morning. Lydia’s run the numbers and it’s not a sure thing by any stretch of the imagination, but supernatural evil seems mostly inclined to take the Lord’s day to rest just like humans do. He won’t make it back before Monday night but that’s okay, unless whatever comes after them is the actual apocalypse they should be all right— and if it’s the apocalypse his meager skills won’t be of much use anyway.

"the wind beneath my wings" (G) by verity | 1,230 | "Did you check any baggage?" Derek says. "Or is this it?" "You’re—" Stiles squints. "Me?" "Yes," Derek says, not very patiently. Good old Derek.

"Stand Here At The Edge Of Something New" (E) by Chiomi | 3,233 | This is Stiles’ last night of freedom before he’s married to a man he hasn’t seen in over a decade - not even photos, not even Facebook. He intends to make the most of it.

"Not Exactly Comfortable" (T) by entanglednow | 1,227 | "Ok, so this could be worse." Which, on the whole, is probably not the most reassuring thing for Stiles to say right now.

"Negotiation" (T) by entanglednow | 1,158 | Derek's usually really good at shoving him around and making it clear what he wants.

"195% Awake" (E) by accol | 1,316 | "Wait. Was that a zipper?" Derek responded with his usual breathing. Stiles pushed up on his elbows and pressed his phone hard against his ear, straining to hear what was happening on the other end of the line. ”What exactly is this emergency? Are you trapped inside a body bag? A tent? An evil zipper factory?”

"The Scent of an Oncoming Storm" (E) by accol | 13,203 | In the weeks after Derek becomes alpha, he and Stiles form a reluctant team.

"More" 🔒 (M) by coffeeinallcaps | 4,227 | Stiles had never liked Derek. Derek was good-looking, sure; but he was also surly and violent and deceitful and mistrusting and somewhat frightening and a terrible alpha and pretty much impossible to be around. At various points throughout Derek’s snail-paced recovery, Stiles almost considered leaving. But then Derek would do something like make a distressed little noise in his sleep or murmur “Stiles?” again, struggling to blink open his bloodshot eyes, and Stiles would just. Stay.

"Wolf Cub" (E) by moodwriter | 6,946 | A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

"my heart's been offline" (E) by thepsychicclam | 58,893 | Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek's part of a famous family.

"The Scientific Method" (T) by uraneia | 5,947 | Stiles’s life was so much easier before his BFF got super powers. “But, so, werewolves have super strength, right? And super speed. And better vision, and better muscle control, and healing powers, and stuff. And some of that’s probably, like, genetic, if you can be born a werewolf. Right?” “Yeah,” Scott says. From the perplexed look on his face, he doesn’t yet know where Stiles is going with this. “So?” “So what if you have condom-defeating supersperm?”

"Running Up That Hill" (E) by idyll | 23,575 | In which Derek fights the forces of evil and has no idea how Stiles started working for, or living with, him.

"The Pride of Bastet" (M) by fakinbrilliance | 13k WIP | Stiles is marked by the supernatural, Derek is possessive, and the whole pack is a bundle of feels as they try to work their way through it.

"Tender Offer" (E) by jedusaur | 482 | Derek pops his mouth off Stiles’ dick and says, “I opened a brokerage account.”

"spark like empty lighters" 🔒 (T) by extasiswings for elisela | 2,282 | Derek leaves. Stiles gets possessed. Derek comes back. What that all means...they'll figure it out.

"Falling Up" (E) by PalenDrome | 18,522 | Of all the things Stiles imagined could happen, he never thought he’d end up packless.

"The Nose Knows" 🔒 (E) by WhoopsOK | 5,454 | A spell misfires and Stiles winds up with werewolf powers and finds Derek’s scent… alarmingly appealing.

"Arrows Made of Desire" 🔒 (E) by loserchildhotpants | 6,302 | There's a MOTW, Scott's an idiot and a Bad Friend, Stiles has a magic bat (not a euphemism), and Derek submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known (true, but also a euphemism).

"Red, Red, Red" 🔒 (E) by loserchildhotpants | 9,460 | “Your tattoo.” “What about it?” “Just… it’s weird, I’ve been - uh. You ever, like, dream of something? Something you’ve never seen before, but then you see it out in the world?”

"One Mess at a Time" (E) by Tawryn | 2,807 | When Stiles was first accepted into his apprenticeship, Master Peter had told him he'd be placed into some hard situations. Stiles had taken that at face value. You know, figuratively. Good thing Peter’s cute nephew lives above the apothecary.

"Howlin' For You" (E) by Lenore | 33,050 | A college AU with strippers, crime bosses, and a mystery to solve.

"Never Been" (E) by Lenore | 4,202 | Stiles gets snared in a virgin trap. Derek to the rescue!

"Turn a Little Faster" (T) by skoosiepants | 3,207 | He shifts back and forth on his feet and tries to psych himself up. He can do this. He’s a badass werewolf, he can totally tell Stiles that they accidentally got werewolf married because—because Stiles was thinking about him, and happened to give him a token of his, uh, affection under the silvery light of the last full moon. Platonic affection, Derek thinks sourly, so he doesn’t get why his wolf feels all warm and fuzzy and bonded all of a sudden.

"We've Got Chemistry" (T) by dr_girlfriend | 17,892 | “So…” The man was at the door to a shed now. “The previous owners left everything, so I think there should be everything you need. But let me know if you need me to pick up anything, or if you prefer, you can buy it and I’ll reimburse you…” “Oh!” he said. “Because I’m the pool guy.” And that’s not what he meant to say at all. He meant to say, “You think I’m the pool guy.”

"until we wake" (E) by verity | 2,375 | "It shouldn't have affected Derek," Lydia says over the phone. "But maybe—because of your bond." "What bond," Derek says.

"Mix and Match" 🔒 (E) by Jerakeen | 6,141 | Stiles walks into the Beacon Hills alpha-omega mixer with a smile on his face and three condoms in his wallet.

"The Scent of Mate" (E) by Jerakeen | 1,543 | "You smell like mate."

"I'm tired and I'm wasted, irrational" (E) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 8,171 | Derek reads the message twice just to be sure that he isn’t dreaming. 'Help,' it reads, 'accidntly kidnpd somr dudew.' He takes a moment to compose his reply. What the hell Laura?

"Fair Game" 🔒 (E) by blacktofade | 6,183 | It's all fun and games until someone has to pee. AKA: the one where Derek meets Stiles in a club and it's going great until Stiles disappears into a bathroom stall and leaves him to fret.

"Edges and Lines" 🔒 (E) by blacktofade | 3,630 | Derek likes Stiles in lingerie and makeup.

"Wild Living series" (E) by orbiting_saturn | 4,999 | Since the whole mess with Gerard, Stiles has been running on a drunk-dizzy burst of fear adrenaline. Like he’s courting death.

"Take Me to the River" (E) by orbiting_saturn | 3,215 | Stiles does that to him sometimes, bowls over everything important with the force of his personality, the mystery of his mind. It used to annoy and confuse Derek, but lately it just fascinates him.

"The Hazards (and Benefits) of Channel-Surfing on Friday Nights" (M) by herbeautifullie | 12,175 | "I totally have a boyfriend, dude. Shows how much you know." How was he supposed to know Scott would doubt him? It's not Stiles' fault that someone named Derek Hale really exists. It's also not his fault when his lie grows legs and runs so far he can't find it until it's too late – too late and standing right in front of him, gorgeous and annoyed and not at all the person Stiles made him up to be. Yeah, this could get bad.

"By and By" (E) by 1001cranes | 35,611 | Sheriff Stiles accidentally adopted a juvenile offender.

"To Blame" 🔒 (T) by blacktofade | 4,473 | Everything always seems to be Derek's fault, even when he's no longer around.

"Tangible Disasters" 🔒 (M) by saintsideways | 6,598 | Derek has spent years deliberately refusing to flinch from fire. He’s not about to break the habit.

"take my heart from me" 🔒 (NR) by Areiton | 23,188 | He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them. To Derek. He just wanted to keep them all safe. That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"another name for love" (E) by endversed | 36,910 | Derek is a single parent to a teenager. He's given up on love since losing his daughter's mother. Stiles is an FBI agent in town on the hunt for a feral omega. He might have something to say about Derek's stance on love.

"feels so good inside" (E) by endversed | 11,817 | Stiles receives a dick pic from an unknown number. He decides to grab the opportunity with both hands to do something about his pesky virginity.

"Not Exactly Comfortable" (T) by entanglednow | 1,227 | "Ok, so this could be worse." Which, on the whole, is probably not the most reassuring thing for Stiles to say right now. "Could be worse?" Scott hisses out, where he's scrunched uncomfortably on Stiles's bed. In a way Derek's body probably isn't designed for.

"pretty fragile things" 🔒 (M) by Areiton | 6,474 | Stiles Stilinski likes pretty things. Derek Hale just likes Stiles.

"hold my beer (hold me close)" 🔒 (NR) by Areiton | 3,252 | It was Scotty’s fault. One hundred fucking percent, Stiles thinks, stumbling under the weight of a two hundred pound very drunk alpha. Who, as luck would have it, is a cuddler. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Textual Promise" 🔒 (E) by Areiton | 1,828 | Derek stares at the text for a long time before he goes for a run. Because this? From Stiles? This isn't something they do. He still says 'ok'.

"Large Vanilla Latte" 🔒 (G) by Areiton | 1,466 | The bell over the door clatters a cheerfully annoying welcome, and Stiles smiles as the man he’s going to marry strides up to the counter.

"Good Pup" 🔒 (NR) by Areiton | 1,719 | He isn’t surprised, when he walks into the loft and finds Derek sprawled on the couch, and Stiles tucked into his side, snoring softly, one hand clenched in Derek’s shirt to lodge him there while Derek reads over Stiles’ sleeping head. He looks happy, his eyes soft and body loose in a way that Peter hasn’t seen in years.

"Is This Unwise" 🔒 (T) by Innaz | 17,819 | Derek expects Stiles to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck, but Derek won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Stiles has even turned around. What he doesn’t expect is Stiles to fucking drop.

"Please Have Mercy" 🔒 (E) by Innaz | 3,922 | "I-” Stiles licks his lips, eyes bright and wide with the shock. Balls in his court now. He could refuse, step away from the line they're toeing and laugh it off. But he doesn’t, just like Derek knew he wouldn’t. Because Stiles wants this. They both do, and that’s what makes it so fucking insane.

"The Shore of Dreams" 🔒 (T) by hannah_baker | 2,277 | Derek Hale finds himself helping Stiles Stilinski hide a body.

"Flannel and Brass" 🔒 (T) by hannah_baker | 3,554 | John Stilinski somehow finds himself in the middle of a casual investigation into his son's life. And isn't wholly pleased with what he finds.

"When Nothing Else Works" 🔒 (T) by hannah_baker | 5,915 | Sheriff Stilinski is slowly and begrudgingly accepting the fact that werewolves exist, regular bad things still do happen sometimes, and his son may or may not be dating Derek Hale behind his back.

"Let's Not Talk About It" 🔒 (E) by hannah_baker | 10,147 | “You can’t have a platonic romantic relationship,” Scott said when Stiles had tried to explain what had happened the previous night. “I’m not saying it’s platonic. Obviously making out isn’t platonic. But it’s not like, romantic. I’m not waxing poetic about his gorgeous hazel eyes or how ridiculous his biceps are-” “Really?” Scott asked, interrupting him. “Because it sounds like you are.”

"Kind of a Thing" 🔒 (T) by hannah_baker | 17,707 | “You’re ‘kind of a thing,’” his dad repeated, the quotations clear in his voice. “Well, I’m not sure what 'kind of a thing' means,” he said, getting up, disappearing to the kitchen briefly and returning with a beer, “but it’s 9:45, which means that 'kind of a thing' needs to leave in fifteen minutes.”

"You Are a Sap and I Love You" (E) by accol | 999 | “Here,” Derek said, shoving a large, fabric sack at Stiles like it had a live snake in it. Stiles pulled the drawstring open and looked inside. “Ha ha, very funny. Just because I broke the last one staking that vampire--” “Pull it out,” Derek said. Stiles let the fabric bag fall to the floor. His fingers wrapped around the grip solidly. “Is it safe?” Stiles took a slow swing. The bat felt like it was humming.

"Space Age Crystals" (E) by A Devil Like You | 1,235 | Stiles is just biding his time at a Christian College until his dad stops being mad at him and lets him come home. He didn't expect to catch the eye of Derek Hale, or to become the new subject of his devotion.

"Of Milk and Honey" (E) by A Devil Like You | 2,578 | The scent is everywhere. The gas station. The movie theatre. The grocery store. The top floor balcony of his house—just outside the French doors to Derek’s bedroom. Like warm honey and sweet cream still in its pail. It’s out there somewhere on the vast preserve and it makes his eyes flutter.

"bi awakening au" (E) by endversed | 34,332 | “Fuck that,” Stiles says, dangerously low. “I already did the closeted jock thing in high school. Like fucking hell I’d put myself through that again.” Derek’s breath catches in his chest. Stiles is – he’s incandescent, entirely lit up with rage. “I’m sorry,” Derek begins to say. “Just – don’t bother, all right? I’m not interested in being your first fuck over the rainbow. You wanna hook-up with a guy, see what all the fuss is about? Go to a gay bar and pick up the first twink you see. You won’t find it hard.” “I’m not –“ “Just leave me the fuck out of it.”

"all fucked up" (E) by endversed | 15,414 | Booty calling your ex-boyfriend might be a bad idea, but it's not like Stiles' heart can break any more than it has already, anyway.

"Shifted" (T) by LLAP115, Wolfspurr | 25,074 | Of all the stupid things he’s ever done, Stiles is pretty sure this one takes the record, but it’s like a reflex that he just can’t stop. As soon as he sees the witch turn to face Derek, hand raised in Derek’s direction, he just jumps.

"The Curve of Your Clavicle" (T) by WhoNatural | 6,264 | Derek's office rival might be the same person keeping him sane at night when the loneliness hits.

"Flowerwolf & Beacon Roots" (E) by alisvolatpropiis | 5,299 | Stiles turns away, towards the cooler of roses, muttering to himself under his breath, which of course Derek can hear perfectly well. “Great freakin’ advice, Lydia, ‘just bring up sex and tell him you’re cool with having a one night stand,’ okay, sure, that worked fucking beautifully.” “Okay.” The word is out of his mouth before Derek can even think about the consequences of saying it, something unusual for him. He wants Stiles however he can get him, it seems. “Okay?” Stiles eyes are wide when he spins back to look at him. “Yeah, okay. Let’s have sex.”

"Imaginary L'Oreal Boyfriend" (T) by WhoNatural | 2,753 | Stiles sets the bowl distractedly on the coffee table and mutes the TV. It doesn’t matter, his Imaginary L’Oreal Boyfriend’s commercial is only repeated once an hour, or so he’s noticed. "Who’s Derek?" he asks with genuine confusion. "The commercial guy," Isaac informs, gesturing at the screen like it’s obvious. "Doesn’t shave and looks like he just remembered something upsetting yet important all the time. Derek Hale?"

"The Last Song I'll Write About You" (NR) by WhoNatural | 1,890 | "So his face sells records, is what you’re saying," she says, and yeah, he’s been talking about the jerkwad for most of his lunch break, but that’s no reason for her to get that glint in her eye. “You must think it’s a pretty marketable face, if it can make someone’s debut album go triple-platinum in the span of two months.”

••••••

That is 100.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fics #stiles & derek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fics #sterek recs #sterek

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wordsofasarcast · 5 months ago

Text

even in death (excerpt)

So I saw this prompt, and I was inspired to write a silly little something:

Will Solace was a chronic workaholic. He constantly worked in the infirmary and refused to take breaks or days off. His whole cabin was worried for him, for his tan skin had taken on a sickly sheen from days under fluorescent lights.

It shouldn't be, but it's almost a relief when Will dies. It was sudden, hopefully painless. He'd gone on a supply run to the local chemist as flu season approached, hoping to stock up their cough syrup supply before the infirmary was inundated with infected campers. A drunk driver - not even a Greek Monster - maybe that was for the better.

At least in death—his family and friends hoped—Will Solace would finally have the chance to relax. The deaths of campers during the wars had always weighed too heavy on him, his failures pressing down on his shoulders, and Will had wondered if that was how it felt to hold up Atlas' sky. He'd worked day after day trying to erase those mistakes—his failures—and then maybe he'd find a way to forgive himself.

So when Will Solace died, he didn't weep; he didn't curl up and wait for whoever would guide his soul to the next destination.

No, Will just went back to work. Because he didn't even stop to realise that his body was in some morgue no longer entwined with his soul, or that his limbs were hazily translucent, or that the sun didn't heat his skin.

No, Will Solace didn't realise he had died. Not even when his siblings didn't wave to him when he walked in for his shift or when Austin didn't bring him lunch for the first time in years when he forgot to eat himself. 'It was just a busy day,' he explained the occurances away, shrugging and returning to the paperwork still strewn across the desk from yesterday.

'Maybe they're having a bad day, ' he told himself when it happened again the next day.

And the next and the next and the next.

'Maybe it's a prank?'

'Definitely a prank,' he decided when Kayla outright screamed at him a week later.

"Holy schist, Austin, this pen is moving on its own!" She yelled, backing herself against the wall across from Will, knocking the height chart down from where Will had hung it on a nail almost six years ago.

"Okay, this has got to stop." Will sighed, pointing the pen at his sister with a frown. "What? Did I not give enough of a reaction when ya'll were ignoring me? You had to step it up, pretend I'm a ghost?"

"Austin? Get in here, right now!" Kayla screamed again, and Will was begrudgingly impressed at her acting skills. But she was a daughter of Apollo, drama was in their blood.

"Argh, whatever, I have work to do." Will turned back to continue scribing notes about Harley's recent asthma attack and subsequent infirmary check-up. He didn't get very far before Austin cracked open the door and stuck his head inside the room. His eyes had a certain far-away quality, but they quickly focused on Kayla's hyperventilating form.

"Kayla, what-" Austin turned to look at Will, "What the Hades?"

Austin closed the door behind him before he approached where Will was sitting at the desk, peering over his shoulder with a nervous look.

"It's doing our paperwork?" Austin sounded dumbfounded.

"Of course, I'm doing paperwork - something you two should be doing instead of bothering me with this nonsense." Will jabbed his pen towards his half-brother, and the boy stumbled back with a panicked shout.

"I don't think it's friendly," Austin said, pulling his weaponised saxophone from his back and holding it out as if he might swing at Will.

Will scowled at their antics, standing to usher them from the room; he had a lot to do, preferably before someone came to find him because the Ares kids decided to try teaching sword fighting again and got a little too competitive.

"Oh my Gods, it's coming over here!" Kayla clutched Austin's arm, "Dude, do you think it's like a demon?

"Doing our paperwork?" Austin raised his dark eyebrows.

Kayla shrugged, but her expression was painted with panic. "What do we do?"

"You could leave?" Will offered, putting the pen down in favour of slipping past the two towards the door.

"Hey, maybe it's gone?" Austin whispered. Oh, how Will wished he could curse his siblings to rhyming for a month. With a scowl, Will opened the door for them, "Go on. Out."

Kayla screamed shrilly, jumping back a foot as she pointed at the door. Austin whirled and took in the open doorway with wide eyes.

Austin sighed, "Yep, we're calling Nico."

end.

a/n this was so silly lol. i will probably write this eventually into an actual oneshot with Ghost King!Nico and Ghost!Will interacting so I guess this is a sneak peek. Ummm it's post-Gaea au but Nico didn't stick around so its pre-Solangelo, Will still has a massive crush though.

and you can read my other works here

#solangelo fanfiction #will solace #nico di angelo #ghost king nico #apollo cabin #ghost au #author should be working on other works but here they are instead #solangelo #you can submit prompts to my ask

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 10 months ago

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May I request angst headcanons for all six blorbos? Please I am sick and in desperate need for sadness to feel better lol (it’s ok if you can’t tho!)

YESSSSS I GET TO ANGST THEMMMMMM :)

New York, Louisiana, Texas, Gov, Massachusetts, and New Jersey? I apologize in advance. (I do not feel bad at all lmao)

New York:

He will 100% cry or at least struggle not to cry if someone makes fun of the fact he can’t walk right.

Hella insecure about the fact that it’s really difficult for him to be able to gain weight. It doesn’t help that he was bullied about it when he went to school.

NY actually did very well in school and was a bright smart student, but his classmates and teachers were absolute ASSHOLES to him.

Him and sleep are the type of enemies that if one was on fire and the other had a glass of water, the one with the water would drink it. So- NY is tired ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. But if he tries to sleep, he can’t. And if he does manage to fall asleep, he just wakes up an hour later whether it just be out of nowhere or he has a nightmare.

Louisiana:

When France killed Loui’s mother, Loui’s mom actually put a curse on France that would give him terrible and vivid nightmares, ones that were so vivid that the victim could feel the phantom pain even after they woke up. But ofc since Louisiana has a heart where he should have a brain, he felt bad and took the curse off of France and put it on himself. Which is one of the reasons that he can’t sleep now. And most of his nightmares are about France’s abuse and war so. Yeah. He feels it all.

So like- Loui is a very kind, very gentle, and very big-hearted person. And he wants nothing but the best for most people. Unfortunately, this has led to him being used and hurt and manipulated more times than anybody is comfortable with hearing. And it’s usually the people he loves most that end of hurting him.

He finds it hard to believe that everybody actually loves him and cares about him. He just- can’t believe it. Yeah, he’ll say he believes it, but he doesn’t. Not fully at least.

For my cryptid/animal stuff, I picture Loui to be some blend of either a wolf and gator, or a wolf and Pelican. But he has the wolf ears and tail. They’re usually out, but they’re just hidden under his hat and in his shirt. Why does he keep them hidden? Well- his ears and tails are VERY sensitive to pain. And France use to take advantage of that by stepping on his tail and yanking on his ears and yelling constantly cuz he knew that it hurt Louisiana. I’m gonna skin France alive.

Texas:

When he gets way too damn tired to even want to exist, he’ll just completely give up. He’ll just lay there and cry. He won’t even try to fight someone coming to front, he’ll just let it happen. Someone needs to sit this poor boy down and help him talk about his issues please I’m begging-(no let him suffer <3)

The only time he ever opens up is if he’s drunk or if Austin is fronting. And when he comes back to front, he’ll completely ignore everyone and isolate himself.

I’m very very nice to him and I’ve given him: asthma, an iron deficiency, and hemophilia (so he bleeds REALLY easily). He absolutely REFUSES to take his medications and stuff and use his inhaler when he needs it. And all he does is work outside and lift and do stuff all day. Which he gets really dizzy and winded and hurt from. So cue someone finding him completely dazed and out of it leaning against a wall just so he can keep standing and he’s just trying to control his breathing and all of that.

He absolutely loves giving and receiving hugs and physical affection, but if ANY touch restrains and/or restricts his movement and ability to escape, someone is getting kicked, punched, bitten, slapped, or all the above.

Gov:

Oh Gov. Poor, poor, not-so-innocent Gov….. he needs a nap. Desperately. And a hug. Please. He needs it. So, so bad.

He has PA’s alcohol addiction, but instead it’s caffeine cuz he’s seen what alcohol does to people and fears becoming like PA.

He has TERRIBLE dissociation episodes that usually end with him just passing tf out.

Gov felt as though the Civil War was mostly his fault and pinned the blame on himself for some reason. He felt as though he had done something wrong that made half of his country wanted to leave.

Massachusetts:

Blames himself for almost everything that happened to his siblings. Even though literally NONE of it was his fault.

His biggest fears are failure, and hurting those he loves. He can’t stand the thought of it AT ALL. He can’t.

Often fears that he’s not “masculine enough” since England always told him that ever since he transitioned.

He tries not to use his magic as much after the Salem Witch Trials happened. Cuz he got beat and burned at the stake at least once or twice and would rather not relive that pain.

New Jersey:

Okay- tbh, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and he’s kinda insecure about that cuz he was never as smart and creative as his brothers.

Will literally hold in his tics until he’s alone, and usually by that time, he’s incredibly uncomfortable and maybe even in a bit of pain.

For the cryptid/animal stuff: one of his horns is cracked and a little shorter than the other because England broke one of them. Asshole.

His biggest fears are: the death of his loved ones and hurting his loved ones (oh look he has something in common with Ma-*gets choked*)

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt new york #wttt louisiana #wttt texas #wttt massachusetts #wttt gov #wttt new jersey

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cannabiscomrade · 1 year ago

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great allergy post btw!!

I think its easy to say good allergies aren’t that bad because they’re avoidable and the symptoms aren’t really chronic in the same sense that typical disabilities are. But my god the social effects! Having to bring your own food everywhere and be mindful about traveling and plane rides constantly is really draining after a while, especially with very common allergens like gluten or meat or egg. Like it’s crazy to me that most people can just eat whatever (like random food trucks in particular because damn I wish) because I’ve never gotten to do that

also the comorbidities! asthma alone accounts for a long term impact of allergen exposure.

people do not care to understand the severity of anaphylaxis and I've even been in first aid trainings where all they did was pass the Epi-Pen trainer around. a certain popular public charter [R.E.D.A.C.T.E.D] doesn't even mandate allergy certification through the first aid/cpr provider they choose. (a majority of first aid/cpr courses I've taken are phenomenal with allergy training fwiw)

ANYWAYS here are the signs and symptoms of anaphylaxis and what to do if you or someone is experiencing them!

If you or someone you know is experiencing anaphylaxis, call emergency services immediately. Do not delay care. If you're unsure, call anyways. Symptoms can be rapid or within 2 hours of exposure.

Do not delay care after administering epinephrine (Epi-Pen, Adrenaclick, Auvi-Q, etc), it is only temporary, hospital care is necessary.

Do not assume that someone with an allergy has an epinephrine injector, especially in places where you have to pay for healthcare.

If someone goes unresponsive and is not breathing during an allergic reaction, start CPR (adult | child+infant) immediately.

Image description: an infographic from the Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Connection Team titled "SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF ANAPHYLAXIS"

Anaphylaxis (an-a-fi-LAK-sis) is a serious allergic reaction that comes on quickly and has the potential to become life-threatening. The most common anaphylactic reactions are to foods, venom, medications, and latex. Anaphylaxis signs and symptoms that may occur alone or in any combination after exposure to an allergen include:

MOUTH: itching, tingling, swelling of the lips/tongue/palate (roof of the mouth)

THROAT: hoarseness, tightening of throat, difficulty swallowing, hacking cough, stridor (a loud, high-pitched sound when breathing in)

LUNGS: shortness of breath, wheezing, coughing, chest pain, tightness

GUT: abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea

CNS/BRAIN: anxiety, panic, sense of doom

EYES/NOSE: runny nose, stuffy nose, sneezing, watery red eyes, itchy eyes, swollen eyes SKIN: hives or other rash, redness/flushing, itching, swelling

CIRCULATION/HEART: chest pain, low blood pressure, weak pulse, shock, pale blue color, dizziness or fainting, lethargy (lack of energy)

Symptoms involving the throat, lungs, and circulation/heart are marked with asterisks, indicating immediate and potential life-threatening symptoms.

Consult with a board-certified allergist for an accurate diagnosis and management plan.

Although the majority of individuals experiencing anaphylaxis have skin symptoms, some of the most severe cases have no rash, hives, swelling

EPINEPHRINE is the first-line of treatment for anaphylaxis Antihistamines, inhalers, & other treatments should only be used as secondary treatment. Always carry two epinephrine auto-injectors at all times.

When you, or someone you know, begin to experience symptoms, CALL 9-1-1 IMMEDIATELY!

FAACT Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Connection Team

AWARENESS • ADVOCACY • EDUCATION www.FoodAllergyAwareness.org

(513) 342-1293 Fax (513) 342-1239

P.O. Box 511 West Chester, OH 45071 [email protected]

[end ID]

#disability tag

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high-on-the-dying-sun · 13 days ago

Text

ANGEL OF DEATH

Ville Valo x reader (kinda?)

Waring: Death and hospital stuff light mentions of past implied suicide attempt. this is just sad shit I wrote at like 3 am when listing t music.

word count: 1237

Ville could feel himself fade away, he could feel all the hope and joy and general energy fade away from him when he was in the studio with the band or on the stage; hell even the most mundane task caused him to fight for even getting the smallest bit of air back into his lungs.

Ville doesn't understand why this is happening to him, it's almost like all the actions he's done in the past are finally chasing after him. He thought he had cheated death on that drunken July night Linde had pulled him off the edge. Or the night when he was 17 and had an asthma attack that had him in the hospital for 2 weeks. Or when he got behind the wheel of an atv drunk and without a license.

Tonight was different. He could feel it. He feared what may come for him. Before many times he has looked into death's eyes and smiled but now. Ville was right on the edge. He was no longer looking into an angel of death's eyes but was now being embraced into it. Ville will die before he even gets to live.

They were in the middle of recording their latest album. He is supposed to be recording his vocal tracks but instead he stands there tears streaming down his face. He knew everybody was staring at him, he could feel their eyes staring into the back of his eyes. It's funny after years of singing of death it's finally creeping up on him and he's terrified. Ville always had a feeling that his life was bound to be short. He thought he would be okay about it. But now he can feel the ache in his bones and his gums bleeding. All the noise around him stops. Migé and Linde have stopped playing their guitars. Gas has stopped playing the drums and Burton has stopped the keyboard. In a way the silence was a comfort. He knew that in maybe a mere few hours he's only going to know scilents. He can still hear the light hum from his microphone while it's still recording. Ville screams. He screams of what will nerve be. What he will leave behind to rejoice with death. He lets everything go. He needs to let everything go. He can't be thinking of the pain; his own and of his friends no his families as they struggle to understand what is going on. Ville contemplates telling them what is going on but maybe it would be better to spare them of his inner pain.

Ville lets his knees give out from beneath him. He lets himself fall. No one is there to check him. All he hears is his name ringing in his ears as the world around him fades into a disarray of blures He can almost see Lindes golden hair shine in the fluorescent lights of the studio. And that god Awful cowboy he hates that migé refused to take off when they record. He says it brings him luck. Ville wonders why couldn't that luck be shared with him. He can feel his body being picked up off the floor. And now in a matter of seconds he can feel the cold air hitting his skin. And he swears when he hardly opens his eyes he can see a woman in a black dress following him. He closes his eyes and can feel the cold air hit against the tears he finally sheds. Yet after all the pain; all he knows is complete darkness.

When he wakes again he can see migé and linde on both sides of him. He tries to call out to his friends. His brothers. He knows he's saying their names, he knows he is screaming it. He knows both of them are awake, he just doesn't understand why they aren't answering him! Ville screams he cries. Why why. Ville begs to whatever is out there for someone to hear him, to answer to him. Anything. He shuts his eyes as tight as possible, to the point where he feels pain. He feels a hand going to his hair. He thinks is one of his friends finally answering his pleas. No. it's the woman he swore he saw early.

He looks up at the women. She still has her hair tangled in his hair. He leans into the comfort of it all. Villle knows very well that it may be his last. “Why?” is the only thing he can get out his throat feels like there is something shoved down it. RED eyes look down at him. “I don't know ville. I'm just here to guide you…” she tries to sooth him. Ville doesn't feel as terfied anymore. Ville sits up and looks at the women. “I'm not ready to die.” he emits to himself more than to her. She puts her hand out onto his back. “But you can't stay, get up. Look at yourself.” ville turns his head to the side as he listens to her words. Ville climbs out of the bed. He turns back to the bed. He steps back at what he sees.

Villes was staring at himself. Migé and Linde are surrounding him. He looks bad. His skin is pale and his body looks like he's never eaten a day in his life. And yet that isn't the worst of it. There is a rather large tube going from a machine and into his mouth and another tube that seems to be connected to some bag going into his nose. He thinks it's some type of NGT tube. And lastly there is a heart monitor and a few iv going into his arm. Ville knows now that there's no going back. It's too late.

She puts her hands on villes shoulders. “You have to come with me ville.” she whispers into his ear; he knows that he has to go. But he wonders what will happen if he doesn't. Does his body stay catatonic? Will he forever be trapped in limbo? He turns to the women. “For years I've sung of a lover joining me and death but now… it's the other way around. I'm joining death.” villes not giving up. No. he's just stating what is true. The end is here. Ville looks at his friends one last time he walks to them one last time and puts his hand on their shoulders. And for some odd reason at the same time they both look up at each other. Ville smiles watching their eyes meet. They know he's there. He hopes that there is an afterlife. He gets to hide behind the crimson door and make sure they are alright.

He moves back from the both of them; at the same time all the heart montier his body was attached to started to beep and his body started to convulse. His eyes grew wide as he watched himself die. Doctors and nurses rush into the room. The girl, the demon or angel (he still didn’t quite know) reaches for his hand and pulls him away from all the action. He couldn't bring himself to even spare a glance to Migé and linde not wanting to see the pain in their eyes as the doctors try to reverse the inevitable.

Him and the girl leave the room and are embraced in a blue hue of warmth…

#jane todd maximoff #ville valo #ville valo x reader #mige amour #linde lindstrom #gas lipstick #burton #HIM #his infernal majesty #I'm sorry for this #um yeah #music #vv x reader

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late-to-the-party-81 · 8 months ago

Text

For the very first time - Chapter 1

[or 5 times the Cap Quartet slept with eachother and one time they slept all together]

AN: So here’s a thing for the CA:TWS ten year anniversary and a big thanks to @catws-anniversary for the inspiration. It’s all just smut, but a few chapters do have some feels sprinkled in.

Each chapter is a different pairing of the Cap4 - this is your warning.

Beta’d by @kingofsorrow20

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Bingo and Challenge fills:

@stuckybingo - N2 - 5+1 format

@steverogersbingo - B1 - First time

@stuckygeekevents - V2 - “You’re my best friend.”

Master list | SRB Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | Stucky Geek Bingo Master list

Chapter Summary: Steve feels so much for his best friend and roommate and he wishes Bucky felt the same. But there’s no way he would, is there?

Chapter Relationship: Steve x Bucky

Chapter Word count: 2.7k

CW: Pining, Accidental Nudity, Realisation of feelings, Friends to lovers, First time blow job, Facial, Confident Bucky

Steve and Bucky - 1936

Despite his protests following his mother’s funeral, it only took two weeks for Bucky to wear Steve down and persuade him of the advantages of moving in together. Steve would’ve liked to have said that, despite his stubbornness, he’d seen the sense in Bucky’s suggestion. However, despite the fact that his health often meant that he couldn’t work properly and he’d probably have issues maintaining rent on his own, he had to admit to himself that it was more that he would do anything for Buck. And again, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince himself it was just because Bucky was his best friend. The sight of Bucky made his mouth go dry and took his breath away - a bit of a problem for someone with asthma - and he couldn’t say no, despite not knowing how he’d actually cope living with Bucky.

Being around him every day.

Sharing a bedroom.

Seeing Bucky walk around in just his undershorts.

His feelings about Bucky were a conflict within him. It wasn’t as if Steve didn’t like girls. He did, had touched himself in the privacy of his own room thinking about them. But he’d also thought about Bucky too and now he was going to have more fodder for his imagination but precious little alone time to do anything about it. Then there were the feelings of ‘wrongness’ and shame - he shouldn’t feel like this for his best friend, for another man. But he wanted to feel Bucky’s arms hold him, like Bucky held dames when dancing. He wanted to hear those sweet nothings being poured into his good ear. He wanted to smell the Bucky’s cologne on his skin the day after the night before. He wanted to taste Bucky on his tongue. The thought of it all tortured him.

It continued to torture him over the next few months. Every day when Bucky came home from working the docks, covered in sweat, he’d start stripping off as soon as he walked through the door, discarding his clothes in a trail all the way to the bathroom as he yapped away about this, that and everything. Then he’d come out again, a threadbare towel, precariously anchored, low on his hips as he rubbed his hair dry with a matching one, his damp chest with its sprinkling of dark hair that Steve just itched to stroke, just there for anyone to see. He’d be making small talk with Steve, asking him how his day was and what was for dinner, as though Steve was his wife. The images this conjured in Steve’s mind did not make things any easier.

Then, to top it off, Bucky was a toucher. A hugger. Steve would often find himself pulled into a surprise embrace, or dragged down onto Bucky’s lap. Sometimes, if he were already on their ratty, lumpy couch, Bucky would sit down next to him, then lay his head in Steve’s lap and place Steve’s hand on his head, like a puppy asking for head scratches. Anyone of these could also happen when Bucky was still just in his towel. Steve didn’t know how long his heart - already not the best at doing its job - would hold out. It was inevitable that at some point, Steve would embarrass himself, he just didn’t know when.

“Hey, Stevie, d’ya know where my cologne is?” Bucky’s voice echoed across the small apartment while Steve stirred the soup on their hot plate. It was Friday night and Bucky was planning to go out, hence searching for his cologne. He’d also been trying to persuade Steve to come with, and Bucky would find a ‘nice dame’ for him to practise dancing with.

Steve was not in the mood. He didn’t want to go out and meet girls. And he absolutely didn’t want Bucky doing it either. But he couldn’t say that, so he just stewed in his thoughts instead. If Bucky noticed, he didn’t say anything, but Steve had decided Bucky was oblivious to most things by now, because there was no way otherwise that Bucky couldn’t see the heart Steve was wearing on his sleeve.

It didn’t help that last time they’d gone out, Bucky having persuaded two girls to meet him and his friend down the Irish Bar, that the girl who had been designated as ‘Steve’s date’, had barely looked at him, let alone talked to him, and Steve had felt like a spare part the entire time, Bucky taking it in turns to dance with the two girls, while sending Steve sympathetic glances. Steve had ended up drinking too much that night and Bucky had had to practically carry him home. Steve still held onto the memory of Bucky’s hands holding him, even if it wasn’t in the way he wanted.

“Steeeeevieeeeeeee!”

With a sigh, Steve turned off the hot plate and turned towards their bedroom, aiming to retrieve Bucky’s cologne right from where it had been left last Sunday.

“Buck, you’re my best friend, not my child,” he chastised. However, at that moment fate decided it had had enough of Steve’s mooning and needed to put things to right in the most mortifying way possible.

As Steve crossed the space, Bucky exited the bathroom, as usual only wearing a towel. Distracted by the sight of a rivulet of water running down between Bucky’s pecs, Steve tripped on his Ma’s rug and went sprawling towards the floor. He put his hands out in front of him, desperate to break his fall and not a bone, and his fingers automatically clutched around the fabric in front of him.

It was as he landed on the floor, cracking his right elbow, that he realised that whatever he’d grabbed wasn’t sturdily attached to anything. He shook his head and as his vision cleared he saw that in his hands was a towel.

A damp towel.

A towel that had been wrapped around Bucky, but wasn’t any longer.

Steve looked up from his position on the floor, then immediately closed his eyes, but it was too late. The image of Bucky’s bare cock had seared itself onto his retinas within those few seconds and suddenly Steve was worried he was going to have a panic attack and set off his asthma. At least if he died he wouldn’t be mortified for long.

“Hey,” Bucky asked, voice full of concern. “You okay there, pal?”

Steve swallowed, his tongue feeling thick and oversized for his mouth. “Yeah,” he somehow managed to force out. “I’ll get up in a moment. Just let me…” He knew he was blushing - it didn’t take much - and he hoped that Bucky would think it was because he was embarrassed from falling rather than seeing him. However, Lady Lucky was not on his side.

“Steve. Look at me.” There was something in Bucky’s voice. A tone that Steve hadn’t heard before, and it commanded him - he had no choice except to obey. He opened his eyes again and raised his head. His gaze lingered a moment too long on where it shouldn’t, before meeting Bucky’s eyes. Steve gasped at what he saw. Bucky’s eyes were dark, their normal ice blue reduced to a thin ring around widened pupils, and there was a flush on Bucky’s cheekbones. “You seem a bit taken with my cock there, buddy,” Bucky teased darkly and Steve blushed more, completely unable to hide his feelings any longer, consequences be damned. He was kneeling on the floor in front of his naked best friend - the man he loved damn it - eyes wide, mouth open and with what he was sure was a very obvious tent in his pants.

When Bucky’s voice dropped an octave and he asked “Do you wanna touch it, Stevie?” Steve’s whole body shuddered. “You can if you want,“ he coaxed. “Can even get those pretty lips on it as well if the feeling takes ya.”

Steve moaned, his eyes fluttering shut at just the thought. His fingers clenched into fists before opening again, spread wide as if searching for purchase.

“I’ve seen you looking, doll,” Bucky continued. “Was wondering when you were gonna say or do something. Knew you had to get here in your own time. But fellas liking other fellas is more common than you think. I like you, Stevie. More than you know.”

Steve felt Bucky’s hand land on his head, Bucky’s calloused fingers threading through his straw coloured hair and Steve couldn’t help but lean into it. He wanted to do what Bucky had said, but he couldn’t do it on his own. He needed help.

“Buck….” he whispered, a plea to the man who was as important to him as god. He was going to hell with his eyes wide open.

“I gotchu, sweetheart,” came the answering drawl. “Put your hands on my legs to start with. They’re just my legs. You’ve seen ‘em lots before.”

Steve did what he’d been told, eyes open only a crack, and he felt the thick, coarse hairs of Bucky’s thighs tickle his palms. He couldn’t help but gently rub them up and down, hypnotised by the sensation, and heard Bucky chuckle.

“That’s it, Stevie,” Bucky coaxed. “Touching me’s not scary. What about a little higher?” Again, Steve did as he’d been asked, hands sliding up to grasp Bucky’s hip bones. Bucky’s cock was right there in front of his face, and through his hazy vision Steve could see that it was chubbed up, thick and heavy looking. Bucky was cut, befitting his religion, and there was a small drop of pre-cum on the very tip of it, inviting Steve to sin.

Slowly, as if swimming in honey, Steve moved his right hand. He extended his index finger and gently ran it down Bucky’s length, swiping the drop from the end and then placing his finger in his mouth to taste it. He groaned as the salty, musky flavour burst over his tongue.

Bucky’s hand tightened in his hair and he let out a groan. “My sweet, dirty, Stevie. Fuck. Touch me again, sweetheart. Please.” Bucky might have been in charge of this encounter, but it seemed he wasn’t above begging. A thrill rippled through Steve at the realisation, buoying his confidence, and he extended his hand again, this time wrapping all of his fingers around Bucky’s rigid flesh.

They both let out a sigh and Steve gave Bucky’s cock an experimental tug, delighting in how another pearlescent drop appeared from the slit. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Steve leant forward and flicked his tongue over the tip of Bucky’s cock, collecting the liquid straight from the source and then a moment later he was taking his first, experimental suckle. It felt so right!

“God, Steve! Can’t believe this is finally happening.” Bucky babbled away and his other hand joined his first on Steve’s head, holding him in place as Steve explored with his lips and tongue, his right hand still lightly jerking the lower half of Bucky’s cock. His left hand slid from Bucky’s hip to cup his heavy-hanging balls, and Steve marvelled at how strange it was to be touching genitals that, while familiar looking, were not his own. However, he must have been doing something right, because Bucky’s hips kept jerking slightly, as though he were trying to keep still but was having a hard time doing so.

Feeling emboldened, Steve wondered how much of Bucky’s cock he could actually fit in his mouth. He relaxed his jaw and slid forward even further, until he felt the tip bump against his soft palate and he gagged. He drew back quickly with a spluttering cough, and tears rolled down his cheeks. A feeling of dread washed over him. Had he fucked up? Would Bucky push him away and call him names? However, much to Steve’s relief, Bucky instead moved his right hand and wiped Steve’s tears away with his thumb.

“Easy, doll. You gotta work up to that. Just do what’s comfortable. I can assure you, it’s perfect.”

Steve preened under the praise and returned his lips to worshipping Bucky. He increased the speed and firmness of the strokes of his hand, touching Bucky the way he touched himself, hoping that Bucky liked it. He sucked and licked at Bucky’s cock and fondled his balls with his other hand, feeling the undeniable urge to make Bucky come. He had to do it, had to prove to himself and Bucky that he could.

Bucky’s fingers in his hair hurt a bit, but it was a good hurt, each wave of sensation making its way to his own cock, trapped inside his pants. His knees ached from kneeling on the floor, but he didn’t care - all there was, was Bucky.

The only noises were those of Bucky’s panting and the wet slurps from Steve’s lips, until Bucky stilled Steve’s head, causing him to glance up.

“‘M gonna come, Stevie. Need to let you know that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep going.”

Steve pulled off reluctantly, but knew he had to answer. “Want you to come, Bucky. Wanna taste you.” He’d heard tales of girls who did this to boys and he wondered if any had done it for Bucky? Whatever the truth of it, he was gonna do it too. Show Bucky how much he loved him.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky groaned. “Gonna kill me with that mouth.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin. “That’s the plan,” he retorted and then went back to what was probably going to become one of his favourite things to do.

Bucky hadn’t been lying though. His breathing got more ragged and his little hip thrusts became more frequent and intense as he lost the ability to control his reactions. Steve felt Bucky’s balls draw up within his palm and readied himself as best he could, taking as much of Bucky’s cock into his mouth as possible and sucking hard.

Bucky exploded with a drawn out moan, his cum filling Steve’s mouth at an alarming rate. Steve had no choice but to pull back to avoid choking. However, Bucky’s cock continued to spurt, and jets of white splattered over Steve’s face, dripping down his chin and onto his shirt. He swore some was even in his eyebrows, but he still continued to stroke Bucky’s cock until the flood reduced to a trickle and Bucky’s hand relaxed in his hair.

“Oh, God, Steve. Shit. Look at you!” Bucky dropped to his own knees and lifted his towel from the floor, using a corner of it to wipe the worst of his cum from Steve’s smiling, dopey expression. Then, in the next moment, he cupped Steve’s face in his hands and kissed him. Steve squeaked, taken aback by Bucky’s action and somehow finding this act more intimate than what they’d just done.

Lips still joined, Bucky pulled Steve to his feet, and it wasn’t until Steve found himself scooped up in Bucky’s arms that he managed to find his way back to reality.

“W-what’s going on, Buck? What are you doing? Thought you were going out?” Confusion was writ large over his face. As much as he wanted Bucky to eschew his social life in favour of him, he hadn’t thought for a moment that it would happen.

“Like I’m gonna go out now? Why would I need to? I’ve got my best guy right here, and I’ve gotta treat him right.” He gave Steve a cheeky wink, and Steve realised what all those girls must have felt like.

“What d’ya mean ‘treat me right’,” he queried, intrigued as to what Bucky meant.

“Well,” said Bucky, cocking his head towards Steve’s lap as he placed him on his bed, “looks like you got a bit of an issue there, and thought I might return the favour if that’s alright with you.”

Steve grinned, his heart flipping in his chest in a way that wasn’t related to his ill-health. “More than alright, Buck. I can’t wait. I just apologise if I don’t last long.”

“Don’t worry, Stevie - I’ll just take it as a compliment.”

Chapter 2

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @endlesstwanted

#CA:TWS #Cap Quartet #Barbershop Quartet #Stucky #Steve x Bucky #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers bingo round 3 #stucky bingo #stucky geek events bingo

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atiny-for-life · 5 months ago

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Regarding Wooyoung's Health

I thought it's best to make my own post to reach more people who may be concerned or confused about what Wooyoung is currently going through.

I'm glad KQ has always taken their health serious because there will be a lot of adjustments that'll have to be made to ensure Wooyoung's safety in the future so he can keep thriving as an artist and just as a person in general.

From what I've read up on, cholinergic uriticaria (which is the specific type he's dealing with according to the KQ announcement) is common but not yet fully understood (as is the case for most conditions). What you should know is that attacks can be caused by the following triggers:

Exercise (most common trigger)

High temperature exposure, eg, hot showers, saunas

Spicy food ingestion

Emotional stress (anger, anxiety, etc.)

I hope you can see why this would make it hard for someone who performs on stage for a living to be diagnosed.

To show you how absolutely serious this is, attacks can lead to the following:

Hives and skin irritation

Low blood pressure

Tightening of the respiratory muscles, leading to shortness of breath and wheezing

Angioedema, which is an abrupt, temporary, localised swelling of the deep dermal layer, subcutaneous tissue, and mucous membranes that can spread to the upper respiratory tract and intestines

Headaches

Abdominal cramps and diarrhoea

Asthma

Anaphylactoid and anaphylactic reactions

And more

But there are also good news: most affected see a strong improvement in their condition within just a few years of diagnosis and a full disappearance of symptoms after some time, which is fantastic and something I want everyone to keep in mind.

So please, send your love and support to Wooyoung, tell him to prioritize his health, that you want him to be safe and happy, but avoid phrases like "get better soon" because that's not how chronic conditions work and for the love of everything, don't tell him you're disappointed you won't get to see him or something along those lines - that comes across as cruel when you're in a situation completely outside your control. The last thing you should want is for him to feel guilty on top of everything else.

It's gotta be positivity only from here on out. If you care about him, you can send him pictures of your pets, tell him you love him and you're happy he's taking care of himself. The best medicine is laughter for a reason! Feeling good mentally makes your body stronger too so keep that in mind whenever you choose to leave a comment or send him a message.

From how we've heard Ateez talk about KQ, they'll make any adjustments necessary to ensure Wooyoung's safety and happiness so just be patient, wait for updates, and understand this is easiest for us and hardest for him so disregard your own feelings about the situation and keep in mind health comes above all else. Thank you!