#they care for each other even if they're assholes sometimes-

[oh-meow-swirls]

love writing stuff for me rewrite of 2 when i'm not even done with my rewrite of 1 yet. </3

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[irregularbillcipher]

going over old fic notes and outlines and character talks with friends and it's always really funny when i get to the stuff i was developing early-mid 2019 where bill just literally kept kryptos around to rag on, and he genuinely just. did not like the man. like was just completely annoyed with his general existence. boy have things changed

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[sweetnans]

"You lying piece of shit" you said to his face.

It was a pretty common situation between the two of you. Your "friendship" with Bakugo was a lot of things, sometimes you were all lovey dovey clinging to each other (in a Bakugo way) and sometimes you were this...on each other's throats.

"Hey, careful. Remember who you are talking to" He warned you, pointing his index to you.

Listening to Bakugo talking that low would make everybody in the room have chills and most of the 1-A students that were there felt those said chills running through their spines.

"Oh I'm sorry I forgot I'm talking to the king of the cheaters" You exclaimed with your words dripping with sarcasm.

"I DIDN'T CHEAT" He raised his voice trying to make an impact on you but you had your poker face on with your arms crossed over your chest. "You lost, deal with it"

"Oh no, I didn't lose, you asshole, I was doing so right until you moved your piece in a way that's not allowed, thats cheating dude"

If Bakugo was having at least a piece of fun seeing you go nuts about a stupid game that emotion was over, you didn't have the permission to dude him, you were his fucking friend (who he had a crush with) not some random. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared to your soul.

"Don't dude me" his voice was lower than before. Intimidating kind of low.

"Play nice then" you stated.

It was a stare contest between two stubborn assholes. He was cheating and you too as well but you caught him and that made everything completely different. It washed over all your guilts and sins.

The quietness in the room was disturbing everyone. You two had the ability to make everything weird, the tension was palpable, it was cuttable with a knife.

"Guys, why don't you get a room and work out that fucking tension you both have? It's disgusting" Kaminari, who apparently didn't fear Bakugo, was the first to speak. Kirishima and Sero backed him up with some "yeah" and they kept doing their homework.

You lifted your feet and made your way to the stairs without saying a word, there wasn't any chance that you continued playing with Bakugo. Once you were out of sight, Bakugo groaned to himself and went the opposite way, right to the kitchen.

Once you were both gone, everybody in the common area sighed.

"They are so dumb" Mina said, turning the page of her beloved magazine while chewing gum.

"Even I can tell they like each other," Kaminari said, erasing some math problems on his notebook, the page about to rip for the numerous times he had erased.

"We have to let them figure it out for themselves," Kirishima said and everyone agreed. "They're going to get there sooner than later, trust me"

After a (huge) moment of silence while everyone were minding their own business, a soft humming made everybody turn their heads to the sound

"How do you cheat in chess anyway?"

Todoroki was looking at the chessboard with a puzzled face. Everybody stared at each other because no one noticed that Shoto was there.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[deadsnakey]

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆 —> 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏

GENRE —> FLUFF

characters; Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy.

You've been accepted into the friend group, the longer you're with everyone the more you build bonds with each one.

Inspired by @girllblogging777

✩ You and mattheo are definitely best friends and are the closest out of the whole group.

✩ Lorenzo sees you as a little sister and you see him as an older brother, but mattheo and you radiate the most sibling energy; you both have curly hair probably, bonus if it's also brown.

✩ You and blaise study together since the rest aren't helpful or they're just a distraction…mattheo and draco specifically. At least theo isn't too distracting even if he’s bored.

✩ chaotic, certain duos or trios are worse then others.

✩ Pansy and you always do girls night together every friday or Saturday depending if someone busy or not. masks, doing nails, crafts, make up on each other, trying products out theatre weird, movie marathon with snacks, etc. its a blast and the boys always complain because that seems so fun omg????

✩ the boys love teasing the shit out of you because they think its entertaining but will back off if they realize they're taking it too far

✩ you probably teach most of them how to correctly treat a women and things not/to say and not/to do, etc. give them a little reward for becoming gentlemen to keep motivating them. (they're dogs.)

✩ they listen to you most of the time

✩ tbh if you're studying or sum that needs a lot of focus and is serious to you, they will let you work and help as much as they can if you ask for it.

✩ they are probably really protective over you.

✩ most to lease? Mattheo, Draco, Pansy, Theodore, Lorenzo, Blaise.

✩ mattheo, Draco and Pansy is the worst of it, will fight for you.

✩ Theodore and Lorenzo are more verbally abusing someone and Blaise has a sharp tongue when he wants too, he is not afraid to be an ass to someone when it comes down to it.

✩ Lorenzo and Blaise are the nicest in the group not including you. They are still assholes but more toned down.

✩ Pansy and you team up on them allllll the time and they sometimes hate it, so they do it back to you cause they're petty little shits.

✩ when you're throwing up, they'll rush over to get your hair out of your way as quickly as possible.

✩ will try their best to comfort you if they find you crying or upset or sum. Theo and Mattheo are ones who immediately pull you into their chest to protect you; holding you firmly.

✩ they all give really good hugs, but Lorenzo's are probably the best.

✩ they make sure you're eating enough, drinking enough water, not over exhausting yourself and overall just watching over you to make sure you're taking care of yourself.

✩ if they find out you're not taking care of yourself like you should be, they will constantly be on you about it to the point it starts getting annoying.

✩ anytime y'all have classes with one another they will be pestering you asking if you drunk water today and if not, "ok, here's some water now drink, love.", like they will shove food down your throat so please just take care of yourself, its not worth the annoyance and hassle.

✩ crackheads, always getting into some shit and dragging you into it unless you don't wanna be apart of it. (though they'll beg you to agree lol.)

[byfulcrums]

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

[leqonsluv3r]

Hey, do you have a lot of requests rn?

I'd have a fic idea👀 so reader (female) would have been taken to Leon's family for some reason, been living there sometime now and Leon's dad just despises her and makes her do gross chores or whatnot, being mean for no reason, degrading a bit and Leon would let it happen, just kinda watch from aside but quickly enough he'd feel bad and would apologize for his dad behavior and tell her that he (Leon) doesn't feel that way, that he actually likes having her around etc. He could be plotting to kick his dads ass for it but the reader would stop those thoughts, then they'd talk and some things leads to others and soon they're making out and they have sex?! 🫣 You can decide if either one is a virgin or both🤔

my own cinderella

—re!4 leon kennedy x fem!reader

—a oneshot (request)

masterlist taglist

warnings: MDNI, 18+, virgin!reader, kinda dom!leon, best friends to lovers, leon’s dad being an asshole, reader is definitely like cinderella (loosely), grinding, lots of kissing and making out, unprotected pnv action, he’s soft with reader but not rough either (if that makes any sense lmao), they both love each other but they’re too chicken shit to admit it, reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, leon calls reader princess, nipple play, oral (f receiving), aftercare.

“she’s the sweetest thing in his life. always has been since they were kids, she was the lace to his leather. the flowers to his dirt, the sugar to his salt. so when he needs her, as her best friend. he takes her in, takes care of her. as they get older, he grows attached. having her living in his house, living this close. he needs to help her, to love her. his father is taking advantage of her, letting her pay him back in chores. she was his princess, he needed to save her. what better way then to just have her all to himself?”

—or leon gets his very own cinderella and gives her the happy ending she deserves

an: i’m so sorry this took so long to get written. my life has been a crazy mess lately. i’m still unpacking and decorating my new place, working and all the other shit that comes with life. i hope this is what you wanted, pls reblog and like, i appreciate it <3 it’s super long, a gift for being MIA for so long my lovelies.

she started living with leon and his family when she was around 15. it wasn’t her first choice of course, she was supposed to go live with her aunt in maine. but leon was one of her best friends, they were practically next door neighbors.

but when her aunt was tested for drugs and came back as an unfit guardian for her, leon’s father stepped in and made sure she had a place to live.

she loved that she had a place to stay, especially with leon around. everything wasn’t so scary. her parents getting sent to jail for embezzlement…wasn’t on her bingo card for that year. but leon made it okay, he made her laugh and he made sure she was comfortable staying with him and his family.

she got to keep attending the same private school as he did, got to experience life with her friends. she got somewhat of a happy ending.

at least that’s what it looked like from the outside.

what came with leon’s father taking guardianship over her, came with her getting the brunt of the chores. doing laundry for him and his family, cleaning all the rooms of the large house. it was things that she didn’t sign up for but she got to live in a large house with her best friend.

that was good enough? right?

wrong, even the years that passed as she became older became more difficult. especially when she turned 18 and the guardianship broke. she couldn’t leave because she had no money to her name, plus, leon’s dad offered to pay for her college courses.

so on-top of trying to attend lectures and do the loads of homework that came with being a college student. she had to stay and keep “working” around the house that should’ve been her sanctuary that was anything but.

she felt miserable but it wasn’t all bad, leon stayed home with her. he took a gap year, plus his dad was away a lot. she knew she should keep her wandering eyes to herself, that she shouldn’t have a crush on her bestfriend. she should just mind her own business and work until she can pay off her debt.

but no, he was there.

he was so handsome. so sweet to her, he always had been. she didn’t know how he was still single. he had the money, the title that came with his last name and the looks. if she was any other girl, she would’ve snatched him up by now.

but this was a different reality, leon was her friend. she couldn’t think of another reality where he was anything but that. where his thoughts were anything past platonic.

only if she saw the times he would look at her when she was bending over to clean, the times she didn’t see him looking. the dark blue of his eyes tracing her curves with just a small widening of his irises.

then she would know his thoughts were way past platonic and had been for a very long time.

one day in particular, leon’s dad was gone on a buisness trip. she had cleaned the entire house with the help of the maids, making sure her list of tasks was completed for her “guardians” approval.

she was sitting in her room, looking at the assignments on her desk. she knew she had so many classes that she needed to finish her assignments for. she had just been so busy with her chores or tasks, she hadn’t even had time to start her homework.

she started working and as she did, she got so immersed into it that she didn’t notice leon who was standing at her open bedroom doorway.

he cleared his throat and she whipped around in her desk chair, “christ! leon!” she says with a small gasp as she looked at him. he crossed his arms over his chest, “studying hard, princess?” he says with one of his famous smirks on his face.

the nickname he always called her had stuck from childhood and it still made her blush, she tipped her lips up in a crooked grin. “i didn’t know you’d be home today.”

he shrugs and walks into her bedroom, looking around at all the various things hung on the walls, he sees a couple pictures of them as kids. “i had an off day.” he says as he smiles at the picture of the them as kids.

she follows his eyes and tilts her head, “do you remember that?” she gets up from the desk chair and stands beside him, looking at the pictures on the cork board.

he looks from the cork board full of miscellaneous pictures of them, the one he saw in particular was a picture of them when they were 11 and they were getting they’re faces painted. she remembers that day, it was one of the happiest days she’d ever had. her parents were not in jail, her and leon were happy kids and things hadn’t gone to shit yet.

he nods, “yeah, that was a good day.” he says with a look of nostalgia on his face. he was the only constant good thing in her life and they both knew that. the only good thing she could rely on.

he has the urge to tell her things that he’s said a thousand times, but now it feels different since the change inside of him.

since he started looking at her differently, since he started feeling things deep down that he normally wouldn’t feel in a situation like this.

but his best friend was living with him, had been living with him for years because of her parents. his dad had been kind, gracious even and offered her a roof.

he knew that she worked her ass off, made the house and the mansion look impeccable with the help of the maids hired by his father.

but he still wanted her, wanted to take her away. he wanted to do something, he wanted her. he needed her and he was going to have her.

one way or another.

because she was his princess and she deserved more then what was given to her.

later that night, he was staying home instead of going out. normally on a friday night he would be hanging with his friends or going to the bar. but tonight, he was staying home.

he didn’t know how much longer he could take of watching her move around his orbit and not be his. how much menial labor he could watch her do for his father until he snapped. he wanted to scream and yell at his father, tell him it was unfair. but it was like trying to convince an ocean not to be blue, completely out of nature.

but he wanted to give her a break, give her something that she could latch onto so things didn’t seem so terrible. he already had her as a best friend, his love…went way beyond platonic.

so did his attraction.

so he offered for her to watch a movie with him, like when they both were kids.

she had obliged, she needed a break from studying and homework anyways. she was coming up on her midterms for her classes at college and she was losing her mind.

so this was a welcome distraction, he was also the welcome distraction. she had noticed changes over the years in him, his hair and his facial structure. more importantly, he’d been going to the gym. a lot.

his muscles almost needed their own names, they were a part of them. but they were huge. she had never seen muscles that big on any man ever. he could probably crush her like a grape, the thought was welcoming as it was arousing.

she shouldn’t be attracted to her best friend, not when she’s living under his dads roof and basically living here somewhat rent free.

but she was a girl, she had eyes. how could she not ogle him when he was mowing the lawn or had come back all sweaty from the gym? it was human nature. that was her justification in her mind, she was free to look but not to touch.

she’d ruin her friendship and her living situation if she even kissed him.

at least that’s what she thought.

they had been watching the movie for about 30 minutes when she felt his hand on her leg. she didn’t think much of it at first, it didn’t bother her.

she just thought that maybe it was accident and maybe he was just needing some comfort. excuses that she made up in her mind to make herself try and not feel the attraction that was pulsing in between her thighs.

she shifted under his hand on her thigh, letting him rest it there comfortably. out of the corner of her eye she could see the way his hand laid there almost protectively.

however, about halfway through the movie his hand was holding protectively and tightly to her inner thigh. so close and yet so far from where her clit was pulsing beneath her sweats.

she licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry. she didn’t dare look over in his direction, then he would know that this was affecting her. that his possessive and small hold on her leg was affecting every nerve ending in her body.

she prayed that he would just forget it, move his hand away. that was one part of her anyway, the other part wanted him to dip his fingers underneath her underwear and sweatpants.

but the was the horny part of her.

she swallowed when he gripped the fat of her thigh, hard. making her clit pulse in her panties and her pussy practically start drooling. she keeps her eyes on the tv, trying to get rid of the not so PG thoughts that were circulating around her brain.

but he was determined, unbeknownst to her.

he leaned over next to her and brushed some hair back behind her ear with his free hand, making her shiver. “got something on your mind, princess?” he says in a low timbre that she had never heard before.

she felt something inside of her change after he said that, his hand still roughly gripping at her thigh. she willed her mouth to work and words to leave it. she shakily exhaled, “leon…your hand on my thigh…” she says weakly.

she wish it would’ve come out better, not the words she would’ve opted before but it was something. she felt nervous, aroused and a million other things all at once. her virgin body didn’t know how much more it could handle.

“what about it?” he whispers as he lowers his mouth to nip at the shell of her ear, she felt like that alone would make her moan but she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, keeping quiet.

“feels good…” she mumbles out as she leans into his touch on her leg, trying to subtly get his fingers to move closer to where she really needed them. he chuckles softly against her ear, “poor baby, i’m touching your thigh and your already a mess.”

his mocking only furthered her arousal, made her underwear uncomfortably wet. she turned her face to look at him, her nose brushing against his. their close proximity on the couch made her mind fuzzier then usual.

“you sure about this, princess?” he says softly against her lips, their breath mingling together. she thinks for a second, feeling the warmth of him and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly but with a tender sweep of his thumb.

does she want to ruin her friendship for the attraction she’s feeling? yes, yes she does. she might regret this later but a part of her thinks she can trust him. she’s known him for years, he’s her best friend, they’ve seen each other at their worst.

so when she says, “yes.” she doesn’t regret what happens next.

he smirks widely against her lips, his hand squeezes her thigh more. his lips press against her and she moans a little against his lips.

they make out for what feels like an eternity, her hands intertwined into his hair and their lips never leaving each others. the movie drowning on in the background and they both couldn’t care less.

she ends up on top of his lap, not even noticing that she’s grinding on his pants. she knows what it is she’s grinding against, she wasn’t born yesterday. she’s read smut book upon smut book in her lifetime.

he groans against her lips, carding a hand into her own hair and tugging on it as he feels her grind against his erection in his pants. “keep doing that and i’ll bust in my pants.” he whispers with a low husky chuckle in between kisses.

she feels her cheeks flush, “sorry.” she whispers with a tinge of embarrassment in her features, pulling back a little and her movements against his hips stopping. he brushes some hair out of her face, seeing her pink flushed cheeks.

“don’t be sorry, princess. i just don’t think you understand what your doing.” he says with a small daze in his eyes, she finds herself leaning into his touch on her hair. she blinks at him, “i knew what i was doing…i think?” she says with a small doubtful furrow of her brows.

he shakes his head and laughs, knowing that she knew some things but probably not a lot. “let me ask you something, okay? from one best friend to another?” he says with a small tilt of his head, letting his hands coast down to her hips and hold her protectively.

she nods and blinks at him, adjusting herself on his lap a little. he takes a deep breath and gives her a reassuring smile, “are you still a virgin?” he asks her softly, not a hint of judgement in his voice. there’s was no ulterior motive, he just wanted to know.

she swallows and nods, letting a shaky breath leave her pink lips. he kneads at her skin between her sweats and her top, making sure he can comfort her in some way. he knew that she never got anywhere with guys, half the ones she chose were complete idiots anyways.

“do you want to lose it?” he says softly, another gentle question that’s not close to being an ulterior motive. he just wants to understand where her head is at right now since they kissed.

“i do…i mean, yeah.” she shrugs as she stumbles over her words a little, her cheeks still flushed easily. he thought that the way her cheeks turned red, her eyes wide and docile. it was cute, it was something that only she could pull off. if any other girl did that with him, he would be gone in a matter of minutes.

but she was different. she wanted to lose it. he just needed to make sure, make sure she understood what he was going to ask next.

“well, if you wanna lose it…i’ll give that to you.” he says gently as he caresses the skin of her hips. she blinks at him, still feeling the blush on her cheeks. she doesn’t know how to feel, should she feel nervous? feel like the butterflies are going to burst out of her stomach?

he was giving her an opportunity to lose it, to take care of her, make her feel better. he was her best friend, she trusted him more then anything. but still, she felt nervous. he would be seeing her naked, it would be intimate and vulnerable.

but also, she loved him deep down in a way that was way more then platonic.

so that’s why she leaned forward and kissed him, pressing a kiss to his lips. he smiled against her lips and gripped her hips tighter, taking her kiss as an answer.

“are you sure?” he mumbles in between kisses, making sure she’s not going to regret this later when it’s over. she nods and keeps kissing him, resuming her movements on his hips, moving them against his erection that was still very much there in his boxers and jeans.

she moans softly against his lips as she keeps grinding on him. she wraps her arms around his neck and carding her hands into his hair. she’s taking it one step at a time, listening to her gut and the butterflies swarming it.

he keeps his hands on her hips, almost guiding her as she rolls her hips over his. he groans against her lips, keeping her with him. he doesn’t want to ever let her go.

he didn’t realize that the butterflies in his own stomach were swarming wildly, attacking him when he was keeping her this close. all it took was kissing her, teasing her, holding her ontop of him.

it was years of friendship that had bubbled up into something that they both ignored until now.

he lightly guides her to lay back on the couch, pressing his chest against her own, their lips still moving against each other in a soft tangle of lips, tongues and teeth.

“princess, i’m gonna get you ready for me, okay?” he says when he pulls away from her lips, looking into her eyes. he’s going to take good care of her, as her best friend and someone who has had feelings for her for years.

she nods slowly up at him, he sees the nerves in her eyes. “if you want me to stop at any time, you tell me okay? and i will. i don’t want you to be uncomfortable, i would never want you to be.” he says gently as he brushes some hair out of her face.

“i will, i promise.” she whispers, the nervous energy thrumming through her body was put at ease a little by his words. “okay, princess.” he whispers softly as he leans down and presses kisses along her jawline to the collar of her shirt.

“such a pretty girl…” he whispers in between kisses to her neck, one of his hands going under her shirt and tracing the soft skin of her stomach.

she feels herself get more aroused with every kiss and word he says, helping her take off her shirt. he is gentle with his movements, taking off each piece of her clothing until she’s down to her bra and panties.

he leans back between her spread legs on the couch, admiring the way she looks all flushed and half-naked on the couch, she really is a dream. he feels more protective of her now, possessive, like he needs to keep her for himself.

the part of him that’s almost primal, a part he would like to keep hidden but he doesn’t know how much longer he can, not when he’s about to take her virginity.

“god, your so beautiful.” he says softly, his eyes roving over her frame. she feels her cheeks heat up all over again, wanting to hide from the embarrassment and just the way he’s eating her alive with his blue eyes.

he doesn’t let her hide, he leans down and presses his lips to the skin of her breast right where her bra is hiding her breasts. “good fucking…” he growls as he nips at the skin of her breast.

her body is shaking and she lets out some whimpers, squirming a little underneath him on the couch. “i’m gonna take your bra off, see these beautiful titties you’re hiding from me.” he says with another nip right above her bra.

she nodded and grabbed at his shirt, “take yours off.” she says with a small pant of her lips. he chuckles lowly and leans back on his haunches in between her legs.

he strips off his own t-shirt to showcase the soft muscles and planes of skin, she’s seen him shirtless before but these circumstances were far different. she lets out a breathy exhale.

“your turn.” he says with a small chuckle as he leans down and pulls down the bra straps on her bra. “lean up,” he guides her up so he can reach around and unclip it on the back.

finally, her bra is off and he throws it with her other clothes on the floor. he looks at her breasts, a groan leaving his lips. “my fucking…god, princess.” he says with a small sigh, he’s trying his best not to bust in his pants at the sight of her bare.

he doesn’t even hesitate as he leans down and captures one of her breasts in his mouth, using his other hand to pinch and pull at her nipple. he’s feasting on her like he’s a man starved.

she feels her underwear practically drenched at this point, moaning and gripping at his hair to keep his mouth on her.

she’s never felt like this before and he hasn’t really even done anything yet. she arches her back more, pushing her breast into his mouth more.

he swirls his tongue around her breast, feeling his cock straining in his pants, if he doesn’t release it soon…it’s going to bust in his pants.

he groans around her nipple and then moves to the next one giving it the same attention he just gave the other one, her body shaking and writhing beneath him like crazy.

he trails his lips away from her breasts, kissing down the plane of her stomach until he reaches the band of her underwear. he looks up at her from between her legs and silently asks her for permission.

she nods down at him and he hooks his fingers in the band of her underwear, pulling them down over her hips and tossing them with the rest of her clothes. he pulls back to marvel at her wet folds, how completely wrecked she is and he hasn’t even done that much yet.

the thought that he’s the first one to do any of this, touch her body like this, it drives him insane. it makes him almost feral as he leans in between her legs, keeping her thighs open and pressing kisses to the skin of her inner thighs.

“so fucking gorgeous, princess. is this all for me?” he grumbles lowly against the skin of her thighs, she feels the flushed skin of her cheeks heat up more.

the compliment only making her more aroused, practically painful at this point. she licks her dried lips, “yes…all for you.” she mumbles as she tries to control her breathing.

he chuckles against the skin of her inner thigh, still going farther down to her core. she feels her chest rise and falling faster and faster, those nerves returning as he leans down and presses a kiss to her clit.

her body instantly reacting, he loops his hands around her thighs and keeps them open. he presses more kisses to her clit until she’s a moaning mess, finally deciding to put her out of her misery.

he licks a stripe up her wet slit with his tongue, she moans softly and tilts her head back against the couch. she has never felt anything like this before, a whole other feeling that she couldn’t get from her fingers or a toy.

he keeps licking over her slit, practically drinking her up and devouring her like she was a five course meal. he uses one of his hands and plunges two fingers into her dripping entrance.

he had to prep her, he didn’t want to completely just rush in and hurt her. it didn’t matter how wet she was, he didn’t want to risk it.

she feels that feeling in her belly warm up and coil tighter, she starts shaking and moaning more, her moans growing in pitch. “so close…” she whimpers as he keeps plunging his fingers in and out of her entrance.

“mhm, gonna come all over my fingers like a good girl.” he mumbles softly, almost a feline smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to her slit and licks it as he keeps fingering her, his words twisted that coil tighter.

she feels herself fall apart after a few more pumps of his fingers and then another kiss to her clit, working her through her orgasm. he’s trying to be gentle, take his time but it’s hard when he’s watching her fall apart like that.

“so good, you did so good.” he praises lowly as he kisses up from her slit, over her stomach and breasts, then kisses her lips. she moans softly against his lips, tasting her own release on his mouth. she feels the fingers that were inside of her, trailing over her stomach.

his hand grabbing at her breast and squeezing it as he keeps kissing her. he pulls away slowly and looks down at her flushed face, “your so beautiful.” he whispers as he looks at her with nothing but admiration in his eyes.

she smiles lazily up at him, “thank you.” she whispers with a small pant out of her lips, he strokes some more hair out of her face. “you did amazing.” he whispers softly as he looks down at her.

the praise melts her into a puddle, still wet and probably leaking all over his dads couch. she doesn’t even care at this point. his dad was a whole other issue entirely that she didn’t want to even think of when she was with him.

it was just her and leon right now, the outside world ceased to exist.

“do you want me to keep going, princess?” he says with a small sigh as he traces lines down her stomach and down to her hips.

she thinks about it, about all of it. about his hands on her body and about the way he touches her so tenderly. how he’s not forcing her, how much she trusts him.

she can’t say no now, she can’t back out.

she licks her lips, “yeah, i want you to keep going. i want it.” she whispers as she looks up at him.

he smiles a boyish grin that makes her heart flutter uncontrollably, one that she’s seen a thousand times and it makes her breath catch. he presses a soft kiss to her lips, “i can do that. if it hurts too much, let me know. let me know and we can stop, okay? i already told you…” he trails off and she smiles softly up at him.

“yeah, i know. you’ve said that already.” she giggles softly as he leans back on his knees again in between her legs on the couch. “i know, i just…i want you to feel comfortable. i love you.” he mumbles the last part and if she wasn’t really listening, she wouldn’t have caught it.

but she did.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

it was echoing through her brain as he took off his pants and boxers, mixing her brain and making her all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

even when she saw his cock, all hard and long, the precum oozing out of the tip. she shakily exhales, the beating of her heart intensifies. she doesn’t know if it’s from his confession or the fact that his erection is just out.

she’s seeing him naked, fully naked. they match each other now, fully bare in front of each other. they can’t go back to normal after this, a reality she doesn’t want to face yet.

especially after…

i love you. i love you. i love you.

she looks up at him, reaching out for his arm as he starts to lean over her. he looks at her, his blue eyes linking with her own eyes. “what? what’s that look on your face for?” he says huskily as he takes in the look of admiration and lust in her eyes.

“you love me?” she whispers shakily, doesn’t feel like it’s falling out of her lips. he feels his breath catch and then escape, he can’t lie to her. not when she heard it. when she was naked and beautiful, everything he’s ever wanted wrapped up underneath him.

“i do, i love you…i think i’ve loved you for a long time.” he whispers as he slots himself between her legs, his cock rubbing against her wet folds. the intimacy, she thought she would hate it, run from it. but no, she was here with him and this was happening.

the words made this moment more sweet and memorable, the ache in her heart was bittersweet. to know that the feeling that she kept hidden for so long was reciprocated.

“i love you too. in a non-platonic way.” she whispers with a small nervous smile as she reaches up and touches the skin of his cheekbone.

he has that boyish smirk on his face as he hovers over her, looking into her eyes and tracing the lines of her face. “you do, huh? how long…?” he says with a small bit of teasing in his voice.

her arousal still uncomfortable but she put it on the back burner for now, she was finally getting to confess. finally getting to tell him all she felt for him over their years of friendship.

“maybe three or four years? i don’t know.” she giggles softly, “i couldn’t explain when it started.” she whispers as she traces a line down his jaw and over the moles on his neck.

“that’s okay, princess. i don’t need a timeline. i’m just glad you love me back, that’s all i could ever want from you.” he says softly and he’s almost sentimental deep down underneath it all.

but his dick is still rock hard against her wet folds. she doesn’t feel it go unnoticed, not any of this. “that and my virginity.” she jokes poorly as she smiles shyly up at him.

he shakes his head, smirking playfully, “no, you’re giving it to me. there’s a difference. i’m gonna make it so good for you. it’s what someone like you deserves.” he says sweetly as he leans down and presses a firm but soft kiss against her lips.

she sighs against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hovers over her. they love each other, it’s echoing in his brain and he doesn’t want it to ever disappear.

he slips his hand in between them and guides his cock through her wet folds, coating it with arousal and causing her to moan into his kiss. he hovers his lips over hers, “just relax, take a deep breath or it’s going to hurt.” he says gently as he nudges the tip of his cock into her entrance.

she nods and cards a hand into his hair, following his gentle command and taking deep breaths. he gently slides in inch by inch, letting her breathe through it. “it’s okay, you can take it.” he whispers softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips.

she heaved a small breath, his cock slipping farther and farther in until he was fully sheathed inside of her. he stills for a couple moments, reading her expression.

“are you okay? does it hurt?” he asks gently as he caresses her cheek, she takes a shaky inhale and exhale. “not as bad…” she whispers softly as she looks up at him.

she feels a small sting, he’s definitely bigger then she expected. “take a moment, adjust and then i’ll move.” he says as he presses another soft kiss to her lips.

he stays still for a moment until she nods slowly, gesturing for him to move. he doesn’t hesitate, he slowly starts rocking his hips against hers.

she feels her eyes squeeze shut, she feels so full and just so happy. everything feels blissful like she’s on cloud nine. he presses a kiss to her neck, burying his head there as he keeps rolling his hips against hers. she wraps her arms around his neck and then her legs around his hips.

her pussy was squeezing him and it was hard for him to hold back, she was so tight, he was trying to control himself as best as he could.

“fuck…so tight…” he mumbles against her neck as he keeps rolling his hips, he goes a little bit harder. his hips rolling a little bit deeper and faster.

she leans her head back, her lips parted in bliss as she moans and whimpers. her little noises only making him more desperate to give her what she wants.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

it echoes through both of their brains simultaneously as they bring each other closer and closer to the edge. she’s so sweet, so good to him, always been the girl that he can go to.

been her best friend, been her confidant. he even gave her a place to stay, he helped her. her moans and his groans mingling together like sweet music as he keeps pounding his hips into hers.

“sweet girl, so fucking beautiful.” mumbled praises and compliments in between every thrust of his hips, her lips parting. she’s never looked more beautiful then right now. offering herself to him and him gladly obliging.

she’s melting underneath him, she’s close. she can feel it. he can feel the way she’s clenching around his cock, her moans growing in pitch. “don’t worry, princess. gonna let you come all over my cock.” he groans as he presses kisses all over her jaw.

that only spurs her on further, she feels it snap before she can even say anything, her nails digging into his back. she feels her body shaking as she comes all over his cock.

“oh fuck…” he groans as he feels her clench and coat his fuck in her come. he keeps rolling his hips, fucking her through her orgasm to chase his own release.

“i’m almost there, i’m almost there…” he repeats over and over as he keeps fucking into her, her eyes almost rolling into the back of her head from the overstimulation.

he keeps going until it was almost unbearable for her, his cock shooting ropes of come into her, a loud moan leaving his lips. he just kept his dick inside of her, waiting for it to soften. he needed to catch his breath, he feels like that orgasm took everything out of the both of them.

he pulls back a little to look into her eyes, “was it good? are you okay?” she blissfully smiles up at him in return. “it was perfect, felt good.” she mumbles with a small blink of her eyes.

“god, your so fucking good, princess.” he whispers in a low voice as he presses a gentle and loving kiss against her lips. she smiles against it, rubbing her hands over the small scratches on his back in a soothing gesture.

he pours all his love into the kiss, making sure she knew that he loved her, genuinely. this wasn’t just something he said to get her underneath him.

he loved her, she loved him.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

he leans back and pulls himself off of her, “im gonna clean us up, okay?” he says with a small gentle smile, slowly pulling his cock out of her entrance.

she sighs softly at the loss of his cock, feeling herself flutter around nothing. he strokes a hand over her stomach, “stay here.” he says firmly as he gets up, pulling his boxers back on. he walks into the kitchen down the long hallway, grabbing a damp paper towel and walking back.

he sits down next to her on the couch, her eyes slowly opening and closing from the exhaustion of the two orgasms she experienced. he wipes gently in between her legs, cleaning up their shared arousal.

“your okay, your okay.” he caresses her stomach in gentle rubs as he cleans in between her. she laughs a little as she looks over at the tv on the far wall of the living room.

he follows her eyes, seeing the reason for the laughter. the movies credits were rolling, he shakes his head. “if you want to actually watch it tomorrow, we can.” he says with a small teasing grin.

“if you can keep your hands off me tomorrow.” she says with a lazy smirk as she looks over at him. he gets up to throw away the paper towel, “don’t worry, i think i can manage.” he jokes.

she slowly sits up on the couch, looking at him, “do you think…your dad will kick me out when he finds out about us?” she says with a small bite to her bottom lip. he shakes his head, a small sigh leaving his lips.

he grabs his t-shirt and her underwear, handing them to her to put on. he sits down next to her as she slips the underwear over her hips and puts on his t-shirt. “don’t worry about him, i can handle him. if he has a problem we can always move out.” he says with a small smile, brushing some hair out of her face.

he continues, “i won’t leave you here with him. wherever you go, i go.” he says gently as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “your mine now, okay? you might not have agreed to it yet. but i’m not gonna let you stay here with him.” she feels her eyes swell up a little bit with tears.

just the love that he’s always had for her coming out 10x stronger than before, the whispered confessions before he took her virginity.

she smiles almost brokenly at him, a heartbreaking smile that he wants to make go away. he pulls her closer to him on the couch, wrapping his arms around her.

“i’ll follow you wherever you go.” she whispers against his bare chest, sniffling a little as she tries to keep the lump of tears at bay.

“i know you will.” he says with a small chuckle, pressing a kiss against the side of her hair. he rubs his hands over her back, the material of his t-shirt that she’s wearing kissing his palms.

“i love you.” she says softly into his chest, her breath shaky and trembling. he presses a kiss to the top of her head again, solidifying the words with his actions. “i love you too, princess. always have, always will.” he whispers tenderly against her skull.

he would always love her, he didn’t think he could ever stop. she would stick with him, he would take her away and make her happy. she’d never have to do another chore again, not if he had anything to say about it.

he rescued his princess, he won.

that mattered more then anything else.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @laceycoffins @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you want to be added interact with the link at the beginning <3)

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

im so tired of sterek fics where derek is like really mean or just aloof to stiles until they get together. do you have an recs where derek is just a sweetheart who's always soft on stiles even before they get together?

Here's softboi!derek.

let me take care of you by honestlydarkprincess

(1/1 I 1,1311 I Teen)

Stiles couldn’t do anything but stare at the alpha werewolf as he rambled while unloading the aforementioned supplies from the grocery bag to Stiles’ counter.

Nothing Stiles was seeing made sense.

Why was Derek here, in his apartment, with cold medicine and fucking soup?

Or, the one where Derek comes over to take care of a sick Stiles. They talk about their moms and confess some feelings. It's all very soft.

An Anchor for the Storm by andthwip

(1/1 I 3,246 I Mature)

Derek's the only person Stiles can turn to.

Give Me Shelter by WonderWolf

(1/1 I 8,295 I Teen)

I don’t make a good impression, I know,” Derek grumbles. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“Noooo,” Stiles groans in frustration, “but it isn’t fair because you’re not that guy, you’re not an asshole and you give cats punny names so they have a better chance at being adopted.”

“Who told you I named the cats?” Derek asks, his brows scrunching together in confusion.

“Scott,” Stiles smirks. “My favorite so far was Purrsephone.”

(Or the one in which Derek and Stiles both volunteer at an animal shelter, Derek works with cats and gives them punny names, Stiles works with the dogs, and misunderstandings ensue).

If It Means a Lot to You by Nier

(1/1 I 9,356 I Teen)

His mom had told him about mates in the past. Derek would often come home and just hear stories about how his parents had met and fallen for each other, how they had gotten together after learning about what they truly meant to one another.

He was a kid when she told him all this, so it didn't really make much sense to him at the time. All he could do was sit there on the edge of her bed, listening as his mother talked about how love is an act of courage. If you don't take that first step, then everything else is impossible too.

Set a Song for Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

(1/1 I 11,573 i Teen)

“You did a favour for a stranger?” the sheriff asked, surprised. “You won’t even do a favour for me.”

“Your favours involve chocolate and salty snacks, damn straight I won’t do you any favours,” Stiles insisted, pointing an accusatory finger at his dad while leaning back against the counter, taking another large sip of coffee. “Some guy lost his phone and was calling it hoping someone would answer. That someone was me. He said he’d had some drinks and couldn’t come grab it right then, so we agreed to meet at the station this morning. I didn’t realize ‘this morning’ meant the ass crack of dawn.”

“It’s not the ass crack of dawn, that was at five thirty-seven, according to the weather app on my phone.”

Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh and flipped his dad off. The sheriff gave him a look, but he didn’t reprimand him, clearly able to tell Stiles was miserable.

Love At It's Purest by AbsolutelyNot2801

(12/? I 24,218 I Mature)

Sometimes Derek does things that makes Stiles think his crush is not completely one-sided, like gentle touches, soothing words and embraces like the one they were in that morning. And then he goes and does something stupid like getting a stupid girlfriend like Jennifer. It’s not because of Jennifer at all really. She’s lovely. But Stiles can’t help the hint of jealousy when he sees the loving gazes and soft, shy smiles.

And this is his step-brother he’s talking about. His step-brother! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Or a fic in which Stiles and Derek can’t help falling in love with each other. But there's a problem, they're step brothers. A fic with angst, feels and a happy ending.

The Spaz and the Sourwolf by TheRealDanniX

(9/9 I 24,674 I Teen)

When Stiles comes across something he shouldn't in the Preserve he ends up on four legs. Not that anyone in the Pack knows it's him. He's just hoping they can figure it out before anything else bad happens.

This Is Not Who I'm Supposed to Be by Anonymous

(11/11 I 24,932 I Teen)

After Stiles' friends get shot, the fox runs away from his home. He runs far enough that the white snow changes into green gras, and his white fur feels heavier than ever underneath the shining sun. Talia Hale and her family find him and she helps him turn back into human, something he hasn't been in years, and he has to learn how to be human again with the help from Derek. He realizes that life isn't easy. Not as human and not as a supernatural creature. Especially not when hunters are back in town.

shatter like glass, come apart in my hands by cosmicayan

(15/? I 47,107 I Mature)

The one in which Stiles goes missing for three months and then suddenly, out of nowhere, he turns up at the door of the Hale House, confusing himself, Derek, and literally everyone else.

Oh, yeah, and he has no memory of what happened to him (or, at least, no conscious memory).

[babbymochiiii]

💋 YUTA AS A ROCKSTAR

➥ rockstar! Yuta x afab! reader

➥warnings: suggestive content

divider credits @gigittamic 🖤

Yuta is obvi lead singer 😎💅🏼

You’re always at every concert cause that’s the perks of having a rockstar bf 😘

VIP PASSES BABBYYYYYYY

Honestly sometimes you’re scared to even be in the crowds cause his fans are fucking feral…like you though yuta was feral— babes they’re 100x worse 💀

Tbh yuta likes to flirt with you while you’re in the crowds or even pull you up on stage…

“W-why am I up here? 😃”

“Gotta show off my baby. 😏”

WILL FUCKING SAY IT INTO THE MIC FOR THE WHOLE CROWD TO HEAR

The fierce blush that takes over your face as you just look at Yuta and the crowd (briefly cause you don't want to look at them for long 💀)

Yuta is literally drinking this reaction from you each time it happens. The first time is happened...lemme tell y'all something; his dressing room? best believe that man has you cornered

"You were so cute up there baby."

THE SMIRK HE HAS UGGHGGHHHH 😫

He's literally cooing at you for being so flustered around him and how it's making him think of all the unholy and nastiest things he wants to do to you.

Y'all literally drink these moments up...like yes you're shy about his very public affection for you but in private? psffffff y'all don't care who's hearing or what they end up walking in on, it's all about you guys and no one else.

One time Mark, the lead guitarist in the band, walked into Yuta’s dressing room on his phone and when he looks up, he sees Yuta two knuckles deep into your dripping cunt.

“Oh— 😳”

MARK HAS NO CLUE WHAT TO DO IN THIS MOMENT

But the way Yuta smirks at the way you locked eyes with Mark and came on the spot, he knew Mark had to join them.

So every time Mark felt frustrated or of any sort, Yuta lets him join y’all.

I feel like Yuta is a pretty easy going boyfriend, but will get possessive asf when he sees some other person trying their shit on you

You eat it up cause it always leads to sex with him

Honestly every time y’all have sex it’s just hot asf

Like the way he speaks to you? Praises you? Literally worshipping the fuck out of you? Oh yeah 😚💅🏼

But don’t get me wrong this man can get pretty bdsm like…not extremely since you’re new to scene but enough that you like where you guys are starting at

Of course people being people, they assume yuta is a bad bf because of the way he is on stage and acts towards the paparazzi (can't blame him they're fucking assholes and i would be throwing hands) but he's literally the opposite of his on stage persona. You and his fans know this. All that matters to Yuta is that you of all people get to know and familiarize yourself with the real him.

Yuta is honestly the best thing that's ever happened to you

As you are the best thing that happened to him

Hope y’all enjoyed this scenario fic! 😚❤️

With much love MWAH MWAH 🥰

— mochi 🖤

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (3)

(2.5)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: gay yearning, homoerotic friendship, injuries, jokes about reader being weak but it's a comparison of average human/mma fighter. Abby is stupid, and they're both so delusional with "we're just friends" I feel like I need to write parallel povs with them so you'd see what the other actually felt.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl (if you want me to tag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

October rolled around and you felt like both of you finally got completely comfortable with each other. You spent a lot of time together when you both were at home and you made plans for weekends and free evenings, so your friendship was flourishing. Your stupid, unnecessary, nonsensical crush was flourishing too. You were pressing all your feelings down as best as you could, but when Abby laughed at your jokes your heart swelled with affection and even if you scolded yourself it didn’t work. 

You needed a better way of getting over Abby. (some would say you needed to concentrate on Abby’s flaws - stubborn, leaves cups everywhere, has a hard time admitting she is wrong - but you’ve been down this road before, and it didn’t work, fuck you Jessica).

Sometimes you’d feel like you had a chance - when Abby hugged you tight or blushed when you flirted with her or when she affectionately called you a shrimp because you were hunching over in your chair while you were doing your homework. You’d have to snap yourself out of your delusions because you couldn’t afford getting your hopes up, and the constant reminders in your head actually worked. If you couldn’t get over Abby at least you could contain it at the level you weren’t hurting. You’d take that.  

You turned your key in the lock and opened the door to your apartment just to be surprised when you saw the lights on: usually when you came home Abby wasn't there yet. You felt somewhere between worried and curious why Abby was home early. 

You took your coat and shoes off and went to find Abby to check on her; you saw the light in the bathroom and the door was open, so you approached carefully in case she was naked. 

"Abby?"

"Oh! Hi." Abby said and something clank on the sink. 

"Can I come in?" 

“Yeah.”

You walked into the doorway and gasped when you saw Abby’s face. You came closer immediately, looking at her face with worry. She had a bruise on her cheekbone, her lower lip was swollen with a small cut in the corner of her mouth. 

“What the fuck, Abby?" You asked, for some reason trembling from worry. "What happened? Fuck, do you need to see a doctor?"

You held Abby by her neck, looking over her face, terrified and hurt from seeing Abby hurt. Who would do this? What kind of sick, violent asshole would attack Abby in the middle of the day? What did she even do to provoke such a response?

But Abby smiled, hissing from pain, and stroked your forearms.

"Hey." Abby said gently, soothing you. "Everything's fine. Wasn't paying attention during practice, caught some of the punches."

"Fuck, I forgot." You sighed, relieved. Abby was fighting for fucking fun, of course. "I thought someone attacked you."

Abby laughed and kissed your forehead to soothe you, her lips soft on your skin. You felt your chest flutter, but the relief you felt was bigger - Abby was okay, she was safe and these injuries didn't come from someone's violence. 

"Are you cleaning them?" You nodded at her bruises.

"Yeah."

"I'll help you." You said firmly and made Abby sit on the edge of the bath, looking up to you, amused. "Don't look at me like that, I can't cope with people being hurt."

"You're too sensitive for your own good." Abby said kindly. 

"I care about you." You said quietly as you wiped the blood from the corner of her lip, and Abby stared at you. You heard her breath hitch - she was shocked. "What, you thought I didn't?"

"No-no. I know you care about me." Abby mumbled and looked somewhere over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact. You could understand that, being so close to someone would make some people feel awkward. "You're so gentle." She scoffed as if it offended her, because Abby was all about I can take it so don't go soft on me. 

"Exactly why I said I'd do this. You, idiot, like to tough it up and suffer." You narrowed your eyes playfully and slapped your hand on the sink. "Not on my watch."

"How many vine compilations have you watched, grandma?"

"Takes one to know one." You scoffed and looked over her cut. You turned around and looked for disinfectant in the cabinet; then you took a piece of cotton and held it under Abby's chin so you could rinse the cut without applying any pressure. This disinfectant didn't hurt, so you were pretty calm about rinsing with it. "Okay. Do you have any healing ointments or whatever you use when you get hurt?"

"Yeah. Over there. It's for the bruise."

You nodded and gently applied the cream on Abby's cheekbone, your fingertips like feathers on her skin. Now Abby stared at you without hiding, looking at your face as if it was some kind of puzzle. She probably didn't even register that, so you didn't bring it up to her attention, not wanting to embarrass her.  

"Okay. I'm done." 

"Thanks." Abby said quietly and you smiled at her. 

"Be careful next time. I thought you have gloves for a reason. How did you even get your lip cut?"

"I don't know, It just happened. The punch wasn't even that strong." Abby rolled her eyes and some part of you wanted to laugh because she was cute, but the other part reminded you that Abby was big and strong and actually fucking dangerous. 

Yeah, she was cute when she scrunched her nose, but it was the way a lioness was cute. Little kitty from afar, but even the thought of it noticing you would make you hold your breath in fear. A lioness wasn't a kitty. A lioness was a killing machine that would overpower you and kill you in five minutes. This hit you in a way you wanted to press your thighs together - Abby was so much stronger than you just based on the fact she was a martial artist, and it made you feel things. 

Things you needed to press the fuck down and make yourself forget them. 

"Are you hungry?" Abby asked suddenly and you looked at her, surprised.

"Yes."

"I'll cook tonight." 

You raised your brows, surprised. 

"You know how?"

"Fuck you." Abby laughed and gently shoved you out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. "Just because you're my housewife it doesn't mean I can't cook."

You sat on the chair and watched Abby cook with a mock worry, teasing her that she'd poison you, but Abby didn't mind. You actually knew Abby was a good cook, judging by how well organised her kitchen was when you moved in, but you couldn't miss a chance to tease her. 

"Behave, (y/n). Or I won't feed you." Abby said sternly, but this little command caused a knee-jerk reaction, pressing your buttons in a delicious way. You took a small breath to calm down the sudden haze from her words and came back to reality. "Threatening works, huh?"

Threatening, yeah, of course. Threatening.

"I have a fight on Friday. Do you want to come?" Abby asked as she stirred the vegetables in the pan. "At five."

"Yeah, I do. I'm afraid I'll have a heart attack if I see you hurt, but anything to support you, babygirl." You winked and Abby laughed.

"There is going to be a party after the fight too."

"Cool."

You weren't sure if alcohol plus Abby's company was a good idea, especially since you'd get more sad that you wanted her, but couldn't have her. And drunk cuddles would definitely hit differently and in not a good way, because now you felt something. So right now - though you didn't admit it yet - you weren't planning on going to that party. That September outing was enough for you to understand you needed to protect your heart. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when Abby stopped and rolled her arm, hissing. You frowned in worry, and when she looked at you, she explained.

"My shoulder."

"Did you get hit there too?" You raised your brows.

"No, just sore. I tried to massage it, but I couldn't reach it." 

"I can massage it for you later, if you want." You said before you could even process the implications of your words. You said that on pure instinct "people say I'm good at massages and Abby needs help", but if she'd agree it'd mean you'd touch her. 

Like. Naked back and everything. Shit. 

"Oh, you're so fucking nice, (y/n)." Abby cooed and you huffed. "Thank you."

"Feed me first." You said just as sternly as Abby said before, and she chuckled. 

"Or what, your weak little arms won't have any energy?" 

"The fuck." You asked, dramatically offended. "My arms are strong. No, don't even look at me like that, Anderson, I'm not arm wrestling you."

"Because you're weak as a noodle?"

That was definitely the payback for saying she'd poison you with her cooking. 

"You just want to feel that you're stronger than me, don't you?" 

"Come on, it will be fun." Abby said, now very into the idea of arm wrestling you. She wiped her hands and sat opposite of you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes but put your elbow on the table. "Why do I even put up with your shit?"

"Because you love me, obviously." Abby rolled her eyes in return and your heart sank down in pain and came back in a matter of milliseconds. 

"I'm just nice." 

Abby wrapped her fingers around yours, delighted how your untrained hand was smaller than hers. Your hand was hot and dry, and your hold on her was strong - well, as strong as it could be for someone who occasionally went to gym. Your nails were short and neatly filed, you didn't wear nail polish. Abby suddenly remembered how Ellie explained to her why her nails were short with a shit-eating grin (for fucking, Abigail, for fucking) and even though it was funny then (yeah and nail polish is too gay, right?), it wasn't funny now, with you. 

Why the fuck she was so bothered you had a sex life? She wasn't in any position to police your life and especially your private life. She really needed to be a better person. 

"Ready?"

"If you break my hand you're paying for it."

"Ah, don't worry, my dad is a surgeon." 

Abby counted down from three and let you show your strength first to not demotivate you, but even like this she showed you you had no chance against her, because while you flexed all possible muscles in your arm, she was almost relaxed. 

"Yeah, you're a weak noodle." Abby said, smirking. 

"You're a noodle." You puffed as you tried your best to move Abby's hand, but Abby didn't bulge. "Come on, give up a little."

Abby laughed, but let you move her hand halfway down, and you looked ridiculously happy, even though you knew you were cheating. Abby thought about letting you win because you looked so pleased, but she wanted to destroy you way more. So when you almost got her hand all the way down, panting and puffing, Abby flexed her muscles and slammed your hand to the other side. She was gentle and didn't hit your hand on the table, relaxing her grip just the second before pressing your hand down fully. 

"Weak. Noodle." She said and you looked so angry she started laughing: it wasn't real anger, it was the playful one, and you honestly looked cute. "It's so fun to rile you up."

"First you humiliate me, then you poison me. I'm moving out." You said dramatically and Abby laughed again. 

"Well then how are you going to get Ellie to date you, hm?"

"Oh my god, Abby." You rolled your eyes again. "Gimme my food so my weak noodles could get some energy to knead your back."

Abby was absolutely delighted with how grumpy you were. It was the same when you played Mortal Kombat - riling you up was the biggest joy she had (after cuddling with you). You were so chill all the time, calm and confident like nothing could throw you off balance, and Abby liked seeing you crumble with childish anger, because it filled her with childish joy. 

You had your dinner and Abby rolled her eyes and called you a grandma when you mumbled something about poison again, but she saw how much you liked the food she made. Abby even started to reconsider if she actually hated cooking or she just needed to have someone to feed. Abby felt all warm when you said your thanks with a shy smile - something she never saw on your face before. Her stomach fluttered as she stared at you, searing your face into her heart. You were just adorable.

You washed the dishes and then asked Abby to lie down to fix her sore shoulder. You almost choked when she just took her shirt off and lied down on the bed, without any fucking warning. You felt your face heat up as you traced her muscles and her waist with your eyes, absorbing the sight in front of you. You could see how muscles moved under her skin as she adjusted her position on the bed, tucking her arms under the pillow, her shoulders showing these delicious curves around her biceps and triceps and whatever the fuck human arm was made of. The bruise on her cheek was getting purple and you felt your heart ache, sorry for someone as sweet as Abby to have this. 

"I'm not a professional, so I don't think I can fix the problem, but at least you'll relax. Are you okay if I sit on top of you?"

"Of course. Your back would get tired way too fast if you stay at my side, so take a seat."

"So forward, Abby." You chuckled and swung your leg over her ass so you could sit. You tried not to think how your legs stretched over her soft butt, how it would feel if you were flipped over and she was pressing you int- Stupid horny monkey brain. “Do you have a lotion somewhere?”

“Will hand cream work?”

“Yeah.”

Abby reached out for her drawer and handed you the hand cream while you respectfully didn’t look at her tits while she moved up, her naked chest showing from her sides. You squeezed the hand cream on Abby’s back, laughing at her surprised twitch, and got to work. You massaged the top of her shoulders and her neck first, listening to her soft pleased hums as you worked the tension out of her muscles. Then you moved to her shoulder blades and pressed your knuckles just under the right shoulder blade where you knew the sore muscle was. Abby let out a moan as you dragged your knuckles over the muscle and you opened your eyes wide, surprised. Fuck, Abby sounded delicious. 

“Fuck, right there.” Abby grunted and you repeated your movements, your ears tuned to her. Stupid, stupid horny monkey brain. “It feels so good.”

No. You refused to let her words get into your head. It wasn’t meant for you. It wasn't even sexual, what the fuck was wrong with you? 

"That's what she said." You murmured and Abby chuckled. 

"You have magic hands, fuck, do that again."

"You sure you're not my ex?" You teased. Abby didn't respond to that and you just continued massaging her back. 

After half an hour of you kneading Abby's back she was a putty and your hands were tired. You sat down next to her on the bed and watched her blissed out face. 

"Better?"

"I feel like I don't have bones anymore." Abby murmured into her pillow and you laughed quietly. "Thank you."

"You see where cooking dinner gets you." You poked her naked side, but Abby was too relaxed to twitch. "If you need my magic hands, just ask. I'm happy to help."

"You're too nice." 

"Why are you saying it like it's a bad thing?" 

"Just afraid someone would exploit you. Like, some idiot girl who won't appreciate you or something."

"Don't worry. I don't stay with people who don't care about me."

"I care about you, so stay with me." 

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at Abby: she always said this kind of shit that gave you hope. That maybe Abby was just in the closet. That maybe she felt something too. That maybe you just needed to make a move, be the brave one, and then you'd get to have her. Your intuition was constantly whispering to you that Abby wasn't straight, but you refused to listen, because a) it was wishful thinking and b) even if she wasn't, it was for her to figure out and no one deserved to be forced out of the closet. 

"Well I don't want to be homeless, so I am staying with you." You stroked her back affectionately. "You need to shower."

Abby groaned and you laughed, before leaving her room. You needed to breathe.

Abby sighed quietly, still basking in your touch. She might've joked you were weak, but in reality your hands were strong. And so soft. God, you were so soft it opened some unknown need in her. She was longing for your touch in a way it scared her. Sure, Abby was affectionate and enjoyed hugs and cuddles and sleepovers when she got to hold someone - with boys they always held her, but with girls she could be the one holding and protecting. But with you she felt like an addict, craving your touch and closure with actual fucking pain in her chest, the constant pull to be closer in any way possible. Abby never felt like that about anyone, and she didn't understand what it meant. Was she so touch-starved she was looking to get her needs filled by using the closest person she had? That was very selfish and Abby didn't like what kind of person she was becoming. She felt sick at the thought she was using you, the kindest person she knew, to escape her loneliness. 

Abby sat up on the bed and looked at herself in the mirror, not really liking what she saw there. It felt like any issues she had inside were now outside, an inevitable evidence of her deteriorating morals. Fuck, she was turning into an idiot girl who couldn't appreciate you. 

Abby touched her shoulder where your soft fingers were a few minutes ago. Why just your company and your jokes weren't enough? Why did she want more? She couldn't understand at all, she was missing something. (Yeah, probably her morals). But it scared her to such a degree she didn't even want to go there.

The knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. You didn't come inside, staying behind the door to give her privacy.

"Do you want to have some tea with me?" 

"Yeah."

And everything was back to normal.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for hanging out with someone less in-person, and more online?

Here me out first please.

My buddy Austin (he/him) and I usually hang out at least every other week, if not every week. We've been doing this for the last few years after we both got more conformable doing in-person hangouts after the covid vaccines reached the general public in our country.

About a year ago, Austin was in a car accident (not a major one, don't worry) and walked away with a mild concussion (doctor's description). Ever since that car accident, Austin has been super sensitive to sound. In his words, walking across his floor in socks sounds like elephant stomping. His floor is carpet. Typing on a phone is so loud and distracting he can't hear anything else. Birds outside his house sound like they're chirping directly into his ear. He vents to me often that having a regular-volumed conversation sounds so loud it's painful to him.

When I'm over at his house, I try to be as quiet as I can. I'm careful to soft-step around the house and not take my shoes off. I try to shuffle or slide through the kitchen and other rooms that are not carpet so I make less noise. We whisper or half-whisper half-speak to each other in conversation. Movies we have subtitles on and the volume turned down to almost 0%. But Austin still looks like he's in pain by the end of a couple hour hang-out. Sometimes he'll get up and put in earplugs and then come back to continue the hangout. I feel really bad that he's putting himself through so much.

The last few months, instead of always hanging out in-person, I've been suggesting doing something virtual and letting Austin decide which he wants. I figure that if we're gaming, he can wear his earplugs or mute the game and we can use game chat or text each other to communicate. Same with watching movies, we can both adjust our volumes to our comfort levels (and leave subtitles on still. I don't mind them). Sometimes he wants to just do things online, and sometimes he insists on hanging out in-person. It's been about 60/40 online to in-person so far.

We hung out last weekend and first Austin said let's hang out in-person, but the night before we were supposed to hang out, he told me he rather hang out online this time. I was cool with it, but when I let my roommate Geoff (who is also good friends with Austin) know that actually I'd be home most of the day Saturday and answered Geoff's "why are you hanging out with Austin online again?" with "i don't know, Austin probably wants a quiet weekend instead", my roommate started accusing me of infantilizing Austin by hanging out online instead of in-person, that I'm abandoning Austin because his "auditory disablility is too inconvenient for fragile able-bodied feelings" (Geoff's words), and how since Austin hasn't explicitly said that in-person hanging out is too loud for him, then I'm being ableist by assuming things are too loud when he hasn't directly said that I am too loud. I argued that I don't think of Austin as lesser, I just don't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, and it's pretty obvious when things are too loud for him without words, because you can read the "Make it stop" / "No more" expression on his face. But Geoff doubled down really hard and told me i should be ashamed of treating Austin like he's incapable of making his own choices.

I was pissed and just walked out with my laptop. We did our movie day with me on the local library wifi instead. I don't think for a second I've taken away Austin's ability to choose, since I let Austin make the call on in-person or online!! But I'm also completely able-bodied. I haven't even experienced a temporary disability-experience like needing crutches during injury recovery or anything. Geoff has a chronic pain and fatigue disorder, so he has more experience with microaggressions than I do. So I don't know if I'm right about this being a non-issue, or if Geoff is right about me being ableist against Austin's noise sensitivities. It keeps eating at me now, and I don't want to bring this up with Austin since I already know he's really insecure about his new volume tolerance levels. Am I an asshole for doing online hangouts with Austin instead of sticking to only in-person stuff?

[bucksangel]

okay i just need to get some stucky x reader thoughts out of my system

tw: soft!dom!steve, mean!dom!bucky, kinda sub!reader, unprotected p in v sex, oral, anal, double penetration

soft!dom!steve with mean!dom!bucky?? steve being all sweet and soft, praising you for taking them so well. but bucky is there right behind him telling you how slutty you look taking both of them, how good of a slut you are, how tight you are despite several rounds that each lasted upwards of almost an hour.

damn their super-soldier stamina.

they each take turns fucking your mouth while the other fucks your pussy, sometimes playing with your ass, giving you load after load in and on you. you can't even count the amount of orgasms you've had, you're on the verge of passing out from exhaustion and pleasure, crying loudly each time you're forced over the cliff of ecstasy, but you're fighting sleep with all your might because you'll be damned if you let this end.

Finally, when they decide they've ruined you enough, steve lays down in the middle of the bed - not caring about the amount of cum staining the sheets. they both have to help you straddle steve's waist, steve holding onto your hips as bucky guides your hands to brace on steve's chest.

you're struggling to stay upright as you sink onto steve's cock, and even through the haze of pleasure you know he's trying to hold back on his urges to fuck you until you do finally pass out.

but then bucky lines himself up with your asshole, pushing in oh so slowly because even though he's rough and mean he'll never ever hurt you. but once they're both buried so deep inside you that you can practically feel them in your throat they don't hold back. bucky fucks you like he hates you and steve fucks you like you're an angel - but you know both of them worship the ground you walk on.

and then, when you've finally blacked out from your umpteenth orgasm, they cum one final time, steve holding you tight to his chest while bucky covers your body with his, covering you in their warmth.

they're very careful when moving you from between their bodies, steve taking it upon himself to clean yourself of the sweat and cum coating every nearly inch of your skin while bucky goes to retrieve new sheets. steve holds you close to his chest so bucky can change the sheets.

once the clean up has finished, they both arrange your limp body in between them so they can cuddle you close and coo sweet nothings into your ear while you slowly come back to consciousness.

and when you do, they make sure to praise you over and over and tell you how much they love you, how good you are for them, how they trust you and honor how much you trust them.

ANYWAYYY

[lakesbian]

i was pondering some Thoughts about how people sometimes refer to worm as a "found family" story (& how this is sometimes mocked), how in-text alec explicitly says that the undersiders are the closest thing rachel has to family, how taylor tells them "you're my family, in a way," how the found family trope works in general, etc.

access to financial support, housing, medical care, And So On, is primarily attached to the institution of the family. the material necessities provided by membership to a nuclear family are why it's so common for people to reconcile with or keep in touch with family members they wouldn't if there was no material value attached to that relationship. the cultural prioritization of the nuclear family is how we get people offering "well, they're family" as an explanation for remaining associated with someone they wouldn't otherwise care about (or would even actively be trying to escape from, but this post is more about just Social Incompatibility in families than the outright abuse that the structure enables), with the expectation that the explanation is considered to make inherent sense.

aside from the found family trope demonstrating a lack of imagination about non-familial ways important relationships can take shape/demonstrating an inability to see relationships as truly important or deep unless they mimic the nuclear family, i think a lot of what appeals about the found family trope is a character dynamic that provides the same support, security, and undying love/depth of connection that the idealized nuclear family is purported to--and that does so as an escape from and superior replacement to the original blood family.

and what's interesting about the undersiders is that they're extremely not that. they're terrible at communicating. many of them don't get on with each other very well. they're oftentimes even actively shitty to each other: everyone but taylor towards rachel, brian towards alec (and aisha, but she's actually related to him), taylor towards alec and aisha. but there's still repeated in-text acknowledgement of a supposed familial dynamic between them! i think they're a "found family" in the sense that their group imitates the general role of the nuclear family--a small unit of people who (are supposed to) function as each other's fundamental supports in a world that, at large, does not care about any individual member, and who (are supposed to) do so regardless of any internal conflicts or lack of compatibility.

like, this is not a particularly articulate analysis of the nuclear family Whatsoever, but i don't think it's inaccurate to say that the compelling thing about the undersiders is that they are a "found family," but specifically in the sense that a lot of their dysfunctions are reminiscent of those found in typical, real-life familial bonds--people who wouldn't necessarily be getting along otherwise, or are even actively sorta bad for each other, forming very deep & intimate connections simply because they're materially forced to spend a lot of time together and have each others backs when there's no guarantee anyone else will.

for example: alec and aisha call taylor + brian 'team mom and dad' in a mocking manner not to indicate that they're kind/caring, but to indicate that they're being condescending micro-managing assholes...who aisha and alec are going to unquestionably listen to anyway, because they're a team, right? and you have to listen to your team leaders. i am onto an Observation here i think. deeply compelled by the idea of a ""found family"" where all of the similarities to an actual nuclear family are, despite being what drives the intimacy, also blatantly fucking dysfunctional

[aimedis]

damien & huxley headcanons 🔥🌳

damien's favourite thing huxley does is that his voice goes up an octave whenever he talks to someone he doesn’t know or is uncomfortable with (he thinks it’s funny and cute)

his least favourite thing is huxley tickling him every chance he gets (damien is reallyyy tickling)

huxley's favourite thing about damien is that whenever he's is half-asleep/waking up, he’s really clingy and soft spoken, needs to be close to huxley or he starts whining 

his least favourite is how unsubtle damien is with talking about people (he’ll say “don’t look now” and damien will immediately turn around or point directly at the person huxley is talking about)

damien and huxley have shows/movies that they can only watch together and with no one else (if one of them watches the promised neverland with someone else, the other will be really upset)

damien and huxley argue a lot, it's just never serious. they don't have serious arguments often and even then it's over in like ten minutes

they bicker and quarrel about things that don't make sense to anyone else (i.e., how damien's favourite song is the reason he's allergic to peanut butter)

damien is lactose intolerant and allergic to peanut butter, neither a fatal yet he refuses to drink milk/eat ice cream but eats peanut butter damn near everyday. huxley has had to deal with damien being sick so often because of it

huxley likes making bracelets a lot. he makes damien a new one every week and damien wears them all in rotation (he has over 70 bracelets from huxley)

huxley has a billion plants that damien isn't allowed to touch because he will kill them just from breathing too hard

huxley is constantly reminding damien to be nice

sometimes neither of them can sleep so they go out for a drive in huxley's truck just to talk

huxley's moms compensate for damien's mother not being supportive, they treat him like their second son

damien paces for everything. if he's excited, nervous, happy, sad, angry, annoyed, or bored, he's pacing. huxley lets him for about ten minutes before he forces damien to sit down and drink water

huxley gets to see damien be the less put together version of himself he never shows anyone else (huxley loves every side of damien there is)

they actually hate showering together if they don't have to. not only do they run on two different schedules but huxley is a big guy and the shower is only big enough for just him. but every so often they take baths together (they have a seperate bathtub and shower)

even though these two are clingy as fuck, sometimes they can go hours in different rooms without talking to each other and proceed to talk all night in bed while cuddling

damien loves being an asshole to literally everyone, even huxley. huxley just tickles him to make him shut up or he calls freelancer to tell him off

damien and huxley play fight all the time, if those two were going to break their bed that's how it would happen

damien wears huxley's hoodies and jackets

if they're next to each other, they are always touching hands. either holding hands or playing with the other's fingers

huxley's love language is acts of service and physical touch so he's always doing things for damien whether it's making dinner, fixing whatever's broken, or drying his hair. and hugs, lots and lots hugs

damien's love language is quality time and gift giving. he's always planning dates and seeking huxley out to spend time with him along with buying every little thing that reminds him of huxley

damien despises raisins and pepsi

huxley couldn't care less about either of those things so he just keeps them out of the house

huxley is really good at baking while damien is really good at cooking. which is why they're soulmates

whenever damien is stressed, huxley lets him rant while he paints damien's nails, it always helps

damien's favourite kisses to receive are temple kisses, his favourite to give are on the cheek

huxley's favourite kisses to receive are cheek kisses, his favourite to give are temple kisses (and kisses on the top of damien's head)

huxley surprisingly runs quite cold, especially at night so he's always clinging onto damien

[necroromantics]

I love TicciWork in the sense of a boy who has a knack of crashing and burning, and a girl who's always cold so she doesn't mind the heat.

I love them as best friends who wont admit they're best friends. I love them as lovers who don't know they're lovers cuz they refuse to acknowledge the feelings.

I love them as Toby never leaving people alone and annoying the fuck out of everyone but Clockwork is so used to being alone and left behind that she doesn't mind the company, even if she says she does.

I love them as the sun and moon. A dog and a cat, yin and yang. Partners in crime.

They have each others back. They hit where it hurts. They hate each other. They say they hate each other. They love each other.

And it's not a crush/puppy type of love, it's such a deep guttural type of love that can't be expressed because neither of them know how to.

All Toby knows is that he wants to be around her all the time, he wants to piss her off, get a reaction, he wants to make an imprint in her life in any way. He knows that he's weirdly protective over her, but never says anything because he knows she can protect herself. Toby knows that being around Clockwork is like a breath of fresh air. She doesn't judge him, she doesn't baby him or treat him like a freak. She doesn't idealize him, she doesnt control him, she treats him like a person in the ways no one else does.

He always hated being touched before he started holding her hand. He never thought twice about the sound of a clock ticking. Toby's entire life had been impacted in so many ways from the girl he would never admit he loved more than life itself.

Clockwork knows she feels safe with the boy, for some reason. She trusts him, she knows he doesn't have any bad intentions. Clockwork knows that when she pushed everyone away, that stubborn asshole would refuse, and push right back. She knows she likes his jokes, and his smile, and she hates to admit that his sly compliments always gets to her. And she never seems to have nightmares when she falls asleep by him. She knows that they're one in the same. Weird freaks in their own right, and she'd kick the ass of anyone who talked bad about him, because she doesn't tolerate that stuff.

She would always find herself a little bit more at ease, a little happier, when Toby came around. Clockwork would always find herself drawing him in her sketchbooks. Sometimes, she would find herself missing him.

Those two would do anything for each other, whether or not they'd admit it. They are each others safezone from the war outside. They have such a deep unspoken trust and care for each other that stays even when they fight.

I love TicciWork like they love each other