#also I don't know why but the shot of like fifteen of him on an escalator

[goldustwomun]

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #bags

[pixiemunsons]

for your viewing pleasure (em)

the girl in eddie's favourite porno mag looks real familiar...

over 4k words (i couldn't help it i'm sorry), best friends to lovers, dirty talk, joking about non consensual touching (it's a single line and absolutely a joke), lots of pet names, weed use obvi, eddie's been jerking it to a pic of someone who looks like reader so if that's an issue don't read, no use of y/n. reader’s hair reaches her shoulders. also unprotected sex (even these two idiots know that’s a bad idea)

no vol two spoilers here!

a/n: i'm so horny for eddie munson i just needed to write this. i'm still working on multiple bridgerton one shots so don't worry, i've not neglected them, eddie is just my fave rn

you quite literally could not believe your eyes.

you had really seen some shit these last few years. visiting your friend robin at work one afternoon had pulled you into an absolute mess of russians and alternate dimensions and kids with psychic powers and numbers for names. if anyone had told you two years ago that steve ‘the hair’ harrington would be dropping you at school most mornings, that your closest friends would be a group of fifteen year olds, that you would be best pals with eddie fucking munson? you’d never believe them. but this was truly the most unbelievable thing you’d ever seen.

you don’t know why. it was unmistakable. uncanny, really. laid out, literally bare in front of you.

the girl in the centrefold of eddie munson’s most dog-eared, crinkle-paged, unnervingly sticky porno mag looked just like you.

you knew snooping in his room was wrong, but you had no idea there were still secrets between the two of you anymore. you’d been joined at the hip since steve had introduced you the year before, and you weren’t really looking through his stuff, you just wanted to find his stash so you could roll you guys something for when he got back from his shower. but then your fingers had closed around something glossy under his bed and you just had to know what was in it. you weren’t expecting anything like this, maybe just some softcore shit you could tease him about for a couple weeks, but the magazine had opened on its own to its apparently most viewed page, and your jaw had dropped with it.

you couldn’t see all of her, just from the lips down to the knees. she was led down, mouth spread in a wide grin, lacy white underwear adorning her hips. her breasts were exposed, nipples pebbled to the seemingly cold air, and she was trailing her hands up her stomach teasingly. her knees were bent to the side in a look-but-can’t-touch sort of gesture. it was almost tasteful compared to the open mouths and hairy bushes of the other photos. and she literally looked just like you. the hair falling over her shoulder was the exact shade as yours, and even her breasts seemed to be the same size. her skin could’ve been matched to yours at a make up counter, and the shape of her hips and thighs was so reminiscent you would’ve believed they were yours had you not known otherwise.

so why the fuck was eddie looking at this photo? there were a couple of possibilities to be pondered. first, it was a second hand magazine. as gross as that thought was, the person who handed it to him might not have even known you. it was also possible that eddie had never thought of what you might look like under your clothes, which whilst a little deflating (god knows you’d thought about what he looked like under his) was a definite possibility. and then there was the alternative, which was that eddie had realised she looked like you and jacked off anyway, which meant…

you didn’t have time to think about it, though, because eddie was making his way noisily back to his room. quickly, you threw the magazine under his pillow and led back on it, rearranging your skirt and pretending to pick at your nails just as he threw the door open. he was still wet and, you were glad to see, completely shirtless. he leant an arm against his doorframe, the very top of his boxers peaking out from under his tight jeans in a way that had your mouth watering just a little bit. you couldn’t deny that eddie was attractive, and more than once you’d woken up in a cold sweat after having certain dreams about him. but he’d never given any indication that your feelings were reciprocated. sure, he flirted with you, and he loved being close to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in queues and having a hand on your thigh when he drove. but that was just how he was. with everyone.

‘wanna smoke something, babe?’ he winked, and with a roll of your eyes he came and sat next to you, dragging his lunchbox out. of course. he kept it in his underwear drawer.

───

‘baby, i’m tellin’ you, the lord of the rings is a fucking epic!’ eddie cried out, joint in one hand and the other waving wildly through the air as he tried to prove his point. you plucked it from his fingers, allowing yourself to indulge in the way they brushed yours for a second.

‘dude, i don’t disagree, but i’m saying it’s not long enough for all the lore! like, come the fuck on, it’s two hours long for like, seven books! that’s at least four movies,’ you argued your own back, laughing at how eddie rolled his eyes. ‘some of us can read, munson, and those books are fuckin’ long.’ you smiled at him sarcastically, squealing as his hands reached out to tickle your waist. his body rolled halfway onto yours, pulling the blunt from your hand and taking one final hit before stubbing it out on his bedside table. long fingers clasped around yours, dragging both hands above your head to tickle your arms and you were laughing and from under your head… an unmistakable sound of paper rustling.

you froze instantly, and you knew eddie had heard it. your eyes shot open, and you could feel blood spreading up your chest and neck and across your face.

‘sweetheart…’ eddie looked into your eyes, and in that awful second, you knew exactly what was about to happen. slowly, carefully, with both of your hands still trapped in one of his above your head and his pelvis pressed into your left hip, he reached under his pillow and came out with the magazine. folded open on the centrefold. you were frozen under him, horrified and in shock and vaguely aware of the fact that your skirt had been rucked up to your mid-thigh by eddie’s leg and your underwear was dangerously close to being exposed. no time for that now, though. not when eddie had caught you going through his stuff and he was going to kick you out or call you a weirdo or, oh god-

‘i see you found my dirty little secret, babe. what’d’ya think?’

your head shot up. he asked you like he was asking about the weather, so casual and restrained. not the voice of a man who’d just caught his best friend rifling through his porn collection. your words came out trembling, made worse by the fact that he still had a hold of your wrists.

‘i didn’t mean to, i was looking for your weed.’ 

eddie scoffed, looking down into your face once again. his pupils had blown out, a mix of the high and something else, and his eyes looked black.

‘you sure baby? because you seem nervous. i think you saw something you like.’ his voice was still teasing, but there was something darker lurking there. you swallowed harshly, and he abruptly let go of your wrists, sitting up.

‘was it this one? perv.’ he joked, unfolding the picture to show her in her entirety. even from this angle, she was just like you, and you gulped again.

‘it was open on that one when i found it,’ you murmured, and for a split second eddie looked… embarrassed? the tips of his ears were flushing a bright red under his hair. you took this as an opportunity to sit up under him, and now he was half straddling your left thigh as he sat on his knees. you fiddled with the edge of your skirt, thinking about how he’d called you a perv. perv! after you’d found outthat he had been staring at a picture of you - well, not you, but, you know - naked! and before you knew it, the words were tumbling from your lips and you tried to stop them, you really did but-

‘she looks an awful lot like me, eddie.’

his face, which had been hidden behind his curtain of long hair as he played with the ragged corners of the magazine, shot up, and his eyes met yours once more. this time he seemed even more embarrassed, if possible. his cheeks were bright red, eyes open in shock, and he was gnawing painfully on his lower lip, a habit you’d noticed he kept when he was nervous. he opened his mouth to respond but you had already started now, and the words were falling from your lips like vomit.

‘i mean, you can’t see her face, but that’s what i look like when i’m- well, not exactly like that but her boobs are just like mine and… not that you think about my boobs or anything or you’ve even seen them to know what they look like but it’s actually a bit creepy how alike we look.’ your hands flew to cover your mouth, and you were wide-eyed. ‘not that you’re creepy! god no, i mean, i’m flattered, really, but…’ you shut up then, not because you had realised that you were rambling like robin but because there was a hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist and eddie’s lips were on yours.

they were chapped and slightly raw from him chewing on them, but so soft and his tongue was minty as he eased it into you. he was breathing heavily, and a subdued moan worked it’s way into your mouth when you gripped his bare shoulders and tugged him into you. you had no idea what this meant, mind reeling as he pulled you closer so you were now straddling his thigh, both of you sat up on your knees. the hand that spread over your waist splayed across the expanse of your back, travelling lower until it met the crease between your ass and thigh. his long fingers pinched at the skin there, pulling a whimper from you as you rolled your hips against his leg in response. his own bucked up against you, the denim seam of his jeans rubbing against your soft inner thigh and making you gasp. you pulled away ever so slightly to meet eddie’s eyes, and he tried to chase your lips, letting out a whine.

then he was dragging his lips down your neck to where it met your shoulder, working at the skin with his teeth and chuckling as you whimpered.

‘eds!’

‘yes, babe?’ 

his voice came from under your line of sight, muffled against your reddening neck, and you craned it to try and get a glimpse of his face. instead, you saw him pull away, smiling proudly at the mark that he had most definitely left with his mouth. cockily, he dragged his eyes up to yours.

‘the girl in the magazine-‘

‘would you believe me if i told you i bought it because she looks like you?’ he looked almost bashful asking you, a total contrast to a moment ago, and you couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped. 

‘i know i’ve never seen you naked, but some of these skirts you wear leave very little to the imagination, and you were wearing a white shirt when we jumped into lover’s lake that time. worst place to pop a boner.’ he chuckled as you hit his arm lightly. he was right though; you’d dived in after steve without hesitation, and eddie had had to lend you his jean jacket for your ‘modesty’.

‘i’m sorry, baby, i thought i’d been makin’ it clear how i felt about you.’ his voice had dropped to a murmur as his eyes explored your face, lingering on the way your lips had swollen with his kiss. without thinking, he reached up to cup your cheek, and he wanted the way your eyelashes fluttered closed imprinted on the inside of his brain forever.

‘thought you were just playin’ with me, eds.’ you gulped as he ran his thumb over your lower lip, tugging on it gently. his forehead creased, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

‘never playing with you, baby. i wouldn’t fuck with your feelings like that,’ his nose nudged against yours as he pulled you into another searing but short kiss, ringed fingers clutching your chin so that he could commandeer the exchange. he angled your face delightfully, leaning you back so you had to arch your chest against his to follow him.

‘wish you’d made it clearer,’ you gasped when his left hand clutched your ass, pulling your crotch towards his own, ‘could’ve been doing this since that night at the lake.’

a laugh rumbled in his chest, fingers stretching back to grasp the back of your head.

‘wanted you a lot longer than that night, babe. i’ve had that mag since i was sixteen.’ you giggled at this, pulling back to stare at him in disbelief.

‘is that right, munson?’ you arched an eyebrow at him. he held a hand up as if in defense, leaving the other firmly attached to your ass.

‘you said it was flattering! would it make you feel better if i said it’s not just because i think you’re hot?’ he asked, sounding sincere. ‘i’ve wanted you a long time, gorgeous, not just to fuck you. i wanna make you mine, y’know? that’s why i’m always callin’ you baby, and touchin’ you up a little-‘

‘i fucking knew it wasn’t an accident when you grabbed my tit last week!’

‘i didn’t grab it, i brushed it. and anyway, i meant how i’m always draggin’ you closer, tryna keep you under my arm, especially when you wear sexy shit like this.’ he reached down to rub the hem of your short black skirt between a thumb and finger. you had noticed the effect that you had on him when you wore certain items of clothing; long socks, denim shorts, band shirts. you always thought it was because he was just a man - god knows you’d caught harrington staring a couple times. but with eddie, you now knew it was different for you both. if you were honest with yourself, it had been building up to this moment for months. and you knew what you had to do.

‘look, eds, i’m gonna be honest with you. i really want that shit too. i want to get milkshakes in town, i wanna drive in the van with you, i wanna go see shitty bands in shitty bars outta town. but…’ you grabbed his hand and pushed it up your thigh, revelling in the way he groaned when his fingertips made contact with the damp fabric at the apex of your thighs. ‘right now, i really need you to do somethin’ about this.’

suddenly, you were on your back again. the movement made your tummy flip, butterflies erupting when eddie kissed you again. before, he’d been gentle; probing and exploring. this time, the kiss was tongues and teeth, and his hips were rutting against your thigh, pushing your skirt up to expose your underwear.

‘you’re fuckin’ kidding,’ eddie moaned out when he saw that you were wearing white. it wasn’t on purpose, but it was almost identical to the photo, and for a moment eddie munson thought he had died and gone to heaven. you made a move to pull your panties down your legs, but you swore you heard him growl before his hand flew out to stop them.

‘baby, i’m gonna need you to keep these on. turn over for me.’

you did as he said, flipping over so you were face down in his pillow, propped up on your elbows. behind you, you could feel eddie’s eyes burning into you. you could imagine how 

you probably looked right now; skirt flipped up, legs spread for eddie to kneel between them, wet spot between your legs as ringed fingers rubbed over your cheeks. two of them plunged between your legs suddenly, rubbing quickly over where you wanted him most, and you mewled and bucked your hips back towards him. a big hand pushed against your lower back, forcing you back down.

’shh, baby, i’m gettin’ there. just busy looking, you’ll have to wait a minute.’

his voice was hard but you knew he wanted it as much as you did, and you were proven right when, not a minute later, two long fingers pushed under the fabric and straight into your heat.

you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, hips keening back against his hand again as he searched for the spot that would make you scream. fingers crooked, eddie started stroking up against you, wrapping the other hand around your waist. he yanked you up so your back was pressed against his chest, and the change in angle led him right to what he was looking for.

‘fuck, eddie!’ you cried out, and you could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass through his jeans.

‘is that it baby? right there?’ he asked through gritted teeth, and the hand wrapped around your waist pushed its way down your skirt and into your underwear to rub at your clit. both hands were almost too much, and you would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he had you working for release did it not feel so good. eddie was so caught up in making you cum that he didn’t even realise you had let go of his arm until your hand was wrapped around his dick, and he choked on a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

‘sweetheart, fuck, i can’t concentrate if you do that,’ he moaned out, clutching onto you even tighter than he had been before. you laughed breathily around a moan, hips grinding down on eddie’s fingers to speed up your impending orgasm.

‘sorta the idea, babe.’ eddie was nosing at your neck, pressing kisses to the back of your ear, and your words just made him work that little bit harder to get you there.

‘god, i really wanna fuck you right now.’

‘so do it.’

he stopped still and you turned around to look at him for the first time since he’d started touching you. he looked fucked out already; his lips were spit soaked and swollen, his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide open, drinking the image of you down.

‘fuck, babe, d’you really mean it? you don’t have to, i’m probably gonna have to beat off after this anyway.’ 

instead of answering, you reached down, stripping off your shirt and shimmying your skirt down your legs, leaving you sat in just your white underwear, pulled to one side. eddie’s knees almost buckled under him, and he grabbed your face to pull you into another kiss. the angle was awkward, you turning over your left shoulder, but it meant you could just about reach his bare cock and rub it through your wet folds. he jumped away like he’d been shocked, eyes pulled like a magnet down to where your bodies threatened to connect.

‘you’re not wearing a fucking bra either. you’re going to be the death of me one of these days,’ he moaned, and you had to stifle a laugh.

‘would it help if i said i never wear a bra around you?’

‘i oughtta put you over my knee and spank you, you dirty girl.’

‘promises, promises, munson. you gonna fuck me now or not?’

he chuckled darkly, swatting your ass cheek with a wink before leaning into his bedside drawer, sighing heavily when he opened it.

‘baby, i’m really sorry, but i’ve got no johnnies.’ eddie rested his chin on your shoulder, nipping at the skin there with his teeth. you leant back into his touch, swallowing heavily.

‘i never did this before,’ you said, and you could almost feel his ears perk up. ‘but i’m on the pill, so as long as you pull out…’

if he died now, he’d be dying a happy man, he was sure of it.

‘fuckin’ hell, babe, you sure?’ he grunted, teeth grazing your ear. ‘i needa hear you say it, sweetheart. tell eddie you want him to fuck you bareback.’ you supposed he was trying to be funny, but it sent a shiver down your spine that he didn’t miss.

‘does it turn you on when i talk to you like that, baby?’ he crooned, and you could just about babble out a ‘shit, yes!’ 

‘then tell me you want me to put it in,’ he teased, rubbing his cock through your folds and bumping your clit in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head.

‘eddie, i swear to fuckin’ god, put it in or i’ll just get myself off.’

‘as tempting as that is to watch, sweetheart,’ he muttered, squeezing your hip, ‘i think i’ll stick to this.’ and with that, he pushed himself in. 

he wasn’t going to put it all in at once; he was gonna spread you nice and slow, fuck it in and out slowly. he knew he was bigger than most girls were used to, and he was gonna use all his self control to make this as easy as possible for you. but as soon as he put the first inch in you were squirming, begging for more and sucking him in like a fucking vacuum and trying to sit down on it. not to mention how wet you were; he’d never known anything like it. so when you leant back and grabbed his arm and looked at him with those beautiful puppy dog eyes and pouty lips and begged ‘baby, please, just fuck me?’ 

well, he was a goner.

you were so turned on you barely even registered the pain of the stretch, but you knew from the way eddie was repeatedly bumping your g spot that he was bigger than anyone you’d ever had before. and he knew how to use it. he was holding it deep, fucking you in slow, grinding thrusts. every part of your body was touching a part of his, as if you were one person, moving together in perfect synchronicity to get you both there. eddie had never been in anyone bare before, and he was starting to feel like he’d never want to use a condom again; he could feel every part of you, and it was bringing him closer and closer to his release with every passing second.

‘eddie, i think i’m gonna cum already,’ you half slurred, half moaned, and he kissed your shoulder, increasing the tempo of his hips. suddenly, you felt the knot break and your orgasm washed over you in a crescendo, and you cried out eddie’s name as he fucked you through it. he was using his hands to guide your hips against his, all while whispering in your ear; ‘so good for me, babe, so fuckin’ good, gonna make me cum aren’t you sweetheart? such a beautiful girl, so naughty just for me, ’s that right?’ you were nodding along with his words, fingers clutching onto him tightly and so wrapped up in the moment that when he stilled his hips and gasped ‘oh fuck, babe, ‘m gonna cum, you need to get off,’ you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop rocking against him. your head was leant back against his shoulder, and you could hear him muttering frantically as he tried to hold onto his orgasm and push you off.

‘eddie, babe?’

‘sweetheart, please, i’m gonna cum, you need to-‘

‘calm down,’ you turned your head, kissing down his neck and stroking his hair gently, ‘just cum in me.’ you felt his thighs still under yours, then tremble as a rush of warmth filled you up. you wished you could bottle up the way eddie moaned into your ear, the way he pushed right up into you and filled you up to the brim, the way he sighed as you kissed his cheek when he finished.

‘babe, that was really hot, but fuck, we really shouldn’t have done that,’ he murmured, pulling out and feeling terrible at the way you whined.

‘’m on the pill, we’re good,’ you whispered, eyelids drooping as you climbed into eddie’s bed, completely naked.

‘shouldn’t you go, like, pee or?’ eddie asked, combing long fingers through your knotty hair, and you noticed he had, at least, pulled his boxers back on.

‘shhh, sleep time. i’ll do that later. we can get a plan b too, if you’re worried.’ you yawned, and eddie’s heart soared when you made grabby hands up at him. ‘now come get in bed, i need a cuddle.’

‘yes, ma’am.’

‘don’t make it fuckin’ weird, munson.’

#Eddie munson #Eddie stranger things #stranger things smut #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female!reader #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson imagine #stranger things s4 #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

[toji-girl]

pick up | s. gojo

wc: 1.3k

tags: 18+ only - mdni + plug! fem reader + explicit smut + weed + frat boy! gojo + modern au + shot gunning + dubcon + car sex + fingering + pussy eating + handjob + teasing + creampie + nipple play + maybe a part two or something like a series I had fun writing this + reader is a little bitchy + thanks to everyone who voted 🫶🏻

Incoming Message: Satoru G.

1:18 a.m: can u get me a bag and a j? iou (´♡ヮ♡`)

As soon as it came in you turned your TV off then pulled on a robe covering your silk pajamas and stuffed your feet in your slippers grabbing everything needed before making your way to your car.

"Are you kidding me?" You mumbled looking at the text message from Satoru that sat as read while you waited for a response growing irritated that he was making you sit there in the parking lot for him.

It was nearing two now.

Your manicured nails tapped along your phone screen changing the song and rolling your eyes when there was still no text, you put it down sure it wasn't going to go off soon, and began to roll his joint.

Two pink ones because Satoru was always sure to eat your pussy for good measure and as much as you hated to admit he was the best to ever go down on you so you always threw in a freebie, for the sex too.

The third one was your own that you lit sucking in the smoke and letting it saturate your lungs for a moment before exhaling it in a white puff leaning the car seat back and humming to the song softly.

After it ended your phone lit up with a phone call.

You looked at it annoyed that it was an hour after he sent that, waiting until the last minute you hit the green button and clicked the speaker button. "You're an hour late. I hate that Gojo." You huffed.

In the background you could hear a loud party, and given that it was a Saturday it made sense for him to be late. "I know, I'm on my way now. Wait for me sweet girl." He purred, the music and people fading.

"I told you not to call me that, just hurry up because not all of us are partying away our education." You snapped and hung up hating the way the pet name made your belly break out in flutters of butterflies.

Fifteen minutes later Satoru's sleek car pulled up next to yours and a moment later he was sitting next to you, the smell of his cologne mixing in with the weed made your mouth water. "You waited for me."

The joint you rolled was halfway gone already and instead of answering him you gave it to him and changed the song. "Because you owe me, remember?" You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Satoru smiled smugly and reclined his seat tucking one hand behind his head, his white hair looked soft under the glow of the moon that shone down from your sunroof as your eyes followed the hair that peeked from his shirt that hiked up when he shifted taking a hit.

"I do. You're so good to me." He teased catching your look as he sat up to lean in sliding his hand to the back of your neck and leaning in to kiss you blowing the smoke in your mouth, his tongue dancing along with yours while his free hand untied the front of your robe.

Your hands buried into his hair tugging him closer with a soft moan before you pulled away to take the joint from him. "Before you drop it, and you are something else." You shot back ashing the rest of it.

He watched you and let his hands trail down the front of your chest until his long slender fingers reached the buttons of your shirt. "Is that why you answered my text at one in the morning?" He hummed.

Silence blanketed the cabin of your car as you watched him until your pj top hung open baring your breasts to him. "It was the heart eyes that did it for me but also the money is something I enjoy too." You replied trying to pretend that he didn't have a strong hold over you.

Satoru laughed softly.

"Don't pretend like you knew it wasn't going to end like this." He purred leaning in and brushing his lips against the column of your neck igniting the nerves that sparked like tiny fireworks.

While his mouth descended down your chest you let your hands reach over to rub his bulge over the soft fabric of his sweats before sliding under the band of his boxers feeling the soft pubic hair.

He wrapped his lips around your nipple suckling with precision making your back bow pushing more of your breast into his mouth that he cupped, his other hand tweaked your free nipple gently.

The weed had your body feeling pliant like clay that Satoru easily molded to his own liking. "I like you when you're bitchy but I also like you docile for me, so easy to mold however I want." He husked.

His voice was dark when he pulled away from your nipple, a string of salvia bridging from the bud to his swollen lips, blue eyes stared back at you with low lids, just like you, he felt hazy and high as hell.

Slowly his fingertips trailed under the band of your pj shorts, white eyebrows shot up when he felt no panties stopping him from rubbing your pussy spreading your slick that was warm and very sticky.

Your jaw went slack when he pressed his finger into your clit before tracing the soft opening of your pussy barely pushing in all the while your hand wrapped around the shaft of his dick jerking him off.

The both of you used your free hand to roam across each other's bodies while your mouth met in another heated kiss, his tongue stroked against yours before he began sucking softly with a moan.

Pre-slick pooled at the tip of his dick adding a little bit of lubrication to the action, the shlick-shlick sound roared in his ear as he added another finger inside you curling and rubbing just the right spot.

It didn't take long for the both of you to move to the backseat with you straddling Satoru, his sweats and boxers pushed down mid-thigh as you rubbed the head between your pussylips teasingly watching him with a smirk. His head rested against the seat staring back.

"You're so pretty." He whispered cupping your cheek before tracing your lips with his thumb letting it slip between them and watching you suck it as you sunk down on him slowly until he bottomed out.

Pretty crystal blue eyes rolled to the back of his head feeling your pussy choke him in a velvet heat that dripped down his shaft and sack making a mess on the leather as you sat still huffing softly.

His hands rested on your hips helping you ride him before moving to your tits, rolling your pert nipples between long fingers as you pressed your palms to the ceiling of the car fucking yourself on him.

Satoru moaned so prettily, soft pants and grunts as you bounced up and down feeling the band in your belly fray until it snapped, your climax coming a lot sooner than usual as you sat down all the way.

He looked down to where you two met thankful you slipped your shorts and panties came off when you moved letting him get a good view of him buried deep inside your gaping cunt that clenched around him tightly making him gasp as you started to move again.

There were no words able to be spoken as you rode out your high drowning Satoru in it as he came in hot thick spurts filling you and creating a sticky mess that almost frothed between your bouncing.

When you finally slowed down you nuzzled your sweaty face into his neck kissing it softly while he massaged your back keeping you close to him riding out both of his highs while kissing you softly.

#tw: weed #tw: dubcon #my pussy wrote this entire thing btw #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru smut #Satoru Gojo smut #jjk x reader smut w #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #Satoru smut #Gojo smut #gojo x you smut #Satoru x you smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #Satoru Gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

[jen-with-a-pen]

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold. 

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed. 

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you. 

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–” 

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop. 

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” 

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for. 

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family. 

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked. 

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him. 

It was then, everything came crashing down. 

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip. 

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home. 

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?” 

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone. 

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake. 

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind. 

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him. 

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve. 

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able. 

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him. 

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him. 

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin. 

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners. 

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs. 

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend. 

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room. 

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it. 

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee. 

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards. 

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve. 

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach. 

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind. 

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready 

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs. 

“Fuck.”

You opened the door. 

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you. 

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.” 

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed. 

He was what you needed. 

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again. 

“Thank you, Stevie.” 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock. 

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down. 

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?” 

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety. 

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–” 

You felt tears again. 

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!” 

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat. 

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you. 

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there. 

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years. 

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn. 

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over. 

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision. 

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.” 

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. 

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you. 

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding. 

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed. 

You crashed together. 

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. 

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?” 

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild. 

#dancing in the kitchen #jen writes #fluff #angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x reader #college!au #modern!au #college!steve #modern!steve #modern!steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america x f!reader #curvy!reader #best friend!steve rogers #best friend! reader #cap quartet au #chris evans #chris evans characters #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers onshot #steve rogers imagine #protective!steve rogers #slightly posessive!steve rogers

[hexofvex]

Jealousy headcanons with my Anemo favs ft. Gender Neutral!Reader

Characters: Wanderer, Xiao and Kazuha

CW: jealous behaviour (especially worse in Scara's), a bit of swearing

Total WC: 1348 words

A/N: Switching it up a bit until I get a good one-shot idea. I'm kind of using the idea of the nations having their own languages plus a common language in Kazuha's. Also I'm sorry Kazuha's is shorter I hope you enjoy it tho <3 and as always feedback is appreaciated!

Kazuha

Kazuha is the least jealous out of these three

He's rarely ever jealous if anything

He's very confident in the stability of your relationship

However, when he gets jealous, it's directed at the outsider, he's more annoyed than anything

Would probably just intrerrupt the conversation to place a kiss on your cheek (yk to show the person in question that they don't have a chance)

You'd obviously notice his that his atitude is a bit more cheeky than usual tho

And you'd be a tad bit surprised, because you didn't really expect something like this out of him

Kazuha was not the type to get irritated easily.

But as he watches the owner of dango stall flirt with you (shamelessly, I might add), he feels his jaw tensing up. Honestly, why were they dragging this out so much? He'd been so excited to show you around Inazuma City, and for the last fifteen minutes you were stuck at the dango stall.

Of course, you had no way of knowing what the seller was saying because of the specific expressions they were using, but he understood all too well. You were nodding your head politely, with a smile that looked more pained by each minute that passed.

When he's had enough, he walks over to the stall. "My love?"

You turn to face him, and he leans over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. "We need to leave."

You try to hide the wave of relief that washes over your face, as Kazuha explains something to the vendor. When they realise the context of your relationship, their attitude changes as embarrassment blooms in their expression, and Kazuha can't deny the exquisite satisfaction he feels at the sight.

"What did you tell them?" you ask, as the two of you continue your walk through the city.

"That we are two travelers that need to get back to Ritou, to catch our ship."

Not exactly a lie. Maybe except for the fact that the Alcor leaves in three days.

"Thanks for the save." Your lips curl up into a smirk. "Was kissing me a core part of the plan?"

Kazuha smiles, the kind of radiant smile that is more than enough to give you butterflies.

"Sorry, my dear. But if you knew the things they said to you...I just couldn't help myself."

Xiao

Very jealous, but tries his best to hide it

He thinks it's embaressing, how can an adeptus feel things such as jealousy

He also feels guilty and criticizes himself for not trusting you through and through

He knows, at a rational level, that you love him, so why is it that he feels like this?

(Un)fortunately for him, he can't hide shit from you emotion wise

Xiao felt like his head was underwater, barely registering what you were saying.

You had just returned from a comission which you had taken together with another adventurer. You were just telling him how glad you were that you ended up with a partner that could carry their own.

Someone that feels like an actual partner.

That's what you said, and although he knew it wasn't that kind of partner, he couldn't stop the thoughts from flooding into his brain. Would you need him anymore? He was so complicated and hard to handle, especially when karmic debt was taking a toll on him, it wouldn't be hard for you to find someone less exhausting-

"Xiao?"

The adeptus returns to the present, broken out by your voice. You're standing in front of him, puzzled look on your face.

"Did you zone out?"

Xiao swallows. "No. I was listening."

You frown. "What was I saying?"

"You were talking about the stone slates."

"I was, five minutes ago." You face softens as you take a few steps closer to him. "Xiao? Love, are you sure you're alright? Did something happen while I was gone? Is it the karmic debt? I'll go to the harbour right away to bring more medicine if you need it-"

"No. You don't need to worry, this is no matter. Continue your story...about...your friend." He curses himself for the way his voice cracks on the word friend. And of course, you notice, and your expression shifts to a lesser degree of worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"That is beaneath adepti-"

"It's fine if you are, you know. I mean, not fine for you, but, you don't need to feel embaressed about it. It's just how feelings are sometimes. You know I'd never actually...you know..."

His eyes widen. "No, of course not! I- Forgive me." He takes a deep breath. "I do not know what to do about it, you know this is all very new to me."

"Well,I guess I just have to show you until we crush every shadow of doubt." You cup his face and slowly press your lips to his. It's a simple kiss, but you make sure it communicates your feelings.

"A little better?" You ask after you pull away.

"Yes," he replies and pulls you in again.

Wanderer

Literally unbearable

Y'all know that meme that goes "You're the most jealous man I've ever known." "You know other men?"

Yeah that's him, but he does that with everyone

His abandonment issues are big as hell, it was kind of to be expected.

Unlike Xiao, he doesn't even try to hide his jealousy

The type of person to wake you up in the middle of the night to ask if you really love him

The fact that you're with his insufferable ass should be proof enough

You're sitting in your room, enjoying a book, drinking your tea, until you feel a disturbance in the force, when you hear the door to your house getting slammed.

And before you even get to process what's going on, said disturbance walks in your room.

"Who was that turnip head that was flirting with you earlier today?"

You close your book, put down your cup and lean back in your chair, crossing your hands.

"What?"

"About 10 A.M., in front of the Akademiya."

"Ah. That was a colleague. And they're taken, in case that helps ease your mind."

"Good."

"You know, have you ever considered that perhaps I'm not looking to cheat on you at every corner?"

Noticing the hurt tone of your voice, he backs off and the anger fades from his face.

"I might have acted too brashly."

"You think?" You leave your book and cup of tea abandoned on the table as you head towards the door. You stop and turn your head to face him. "I won't betray you, Kunikuzushi. You should know I wouldn't do that."

"I know that."

"Then what's the problem!?"

He sighs and avoids your gaze.

"I am. The more time I spend in your presence the deeper I fall. It is only natural that I wish to preserve this partnership of ours. Does that make sense to you, [Name]?"

Although you're familiar with his straightforwardness, such an admission still delivers a bit of shock.

"It does. Because I want the same thing."

You step closer to him and turn his head so he's facing you.

"You don't need to do all this. I love you, that's the whole reason why I'm with you. If you'd see things from my perspective, you'd never have these thoughts again."

He's silent for a moment, until he grabs your hand and squeezes it.

"I will make attempts to get rid of this. Because I want to believe in your love. Are you willing to believe in mine?"

You laugh. "What kind of question is that? Of course I am. Why do you think I'm still here?"

"It might not go perfectly on the first try, you know."

"I'm alright with that. Just try. You can do that for me."

He lets go of your hand and goes to cup your face, bringing it so close to his that your noses are touching, and you can see the swirls of fiery determination in his eyes.

"I cannot know the results, but I could attempt anything for you."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader

[leclerc-s]

struggling to survive netflix

series masterlist

rhys jones word of advice: DO NOT watch season 6 of drive to survive.

max jones-verstappen you watch that crap?

rhys jones i couldn't sleep, it dropped, so i watched it. worst mistake of my life.

rhys jones i can't believe i was at several races and ryan made it onto the show before me.

esteban ocon oh yes, i forgot about that.

isabella perez someone tell charles they made him out to be the villain.

natalia ruiz just like max in season 1.

charles leclerc i did nothing wrong all season but have shitty luck.

dulce perez monza. charles leclerc i may have done one thing wrong.

rhys jones max went from being the formula 1 villain to being comedic relief.

max jones-verstappen i bet there was no mention of my win streak

isabella perez in the last fifteen minutes but only because christian mentioned it.

charles leclerc can i enter my villain era now?

pierre gasly do you even know what that is? charles leclerc je t'emmerde connard

rowan todd WHITE HORSE?? CONEY ISLAND?? WITH MAE?? ARE YOU TWO TRYING TO KILL US??

daphne jones-ricciardo 😁😁 mae jones-verstappen 😁😁

isabella perez CONEY ISLAND?? YOU SANG CONEY ISLAND?

isabella perez THIS IS FUCKING WORSE THAN LOSING MIRRORBALL!!

max jones-verstappen to be fair i lost seven to fucking pittsburg of all places.

rhys jones jokes on you guys, my song still safe.

daphne jones-ricciardo and what song is that rhys?

rhys jones thug song

daphne jones-ricciardo of fucking course it is.

alex albon crossing my fingers for monologue song next!

george russell charles cried when daphne sang this is me trying as a surprise song. i have a picture of it.

bailey winters one could say you "have it printed out" george russell hilarious bailey. bailey winter this is why lewis decided to leave mercedes, because you're dry as fuck george russell TOO SOON BAILEY!! TOO SOON!!

isabella perez sylvia just got me in trouble. apparently it's not good to speak out against netflix.

dulce perez i think it's more so because you spoke out in favor of a driver from a rival team and not that you spoke put again netflix. natalia ruiz i didn't get in trouble? charles leclerc it was probably the oscar part and not the netflix part isabella perez i got told by fred that it was okay??? just no spilling company secrets.

carlos sainz she probably just doesn't like you.

isabella perez wow.

lando norris to be fair, you are quite annoying. i get it.

dulce perez only i get to call her annoying kermit the frog

lance stroll we should wait until the next season for more drama. that's when it'll be good because of a certain someone breaking f1 twitter.

lewis hamilton talking about me? mick schumacher don't forget the secret contract lengths! esteban ocon and silly season!!

freya vettel i was fully expecting them to make oscar and lando to look like enemies. they've done it before.

isabella perez we should make a drinking game out of dts!! anytime d*nica shows up on screen we take a shot.

zoya torres we'd end up blackout drunk. george russell alternative, take a shot everytime will buxton says something funny. max jones-verstappen or anytime they make teammates who get along look like enemies. mae jones-verstappen you seriously still bitter about the daniel thing? max jones-verstappen YES! WE WERE NEVER ENEMIES!!

esteban ocon netflix doesn't know that friendships and rivalries can exist on the same scale.

rowan todd doesn't help that pierre said, "we'll never be best friends."

rhys jones i'm surprised they haven't brought in the nepotism card yet.

mick schumacher they did.

rhys jones i avoid that episode to not cry and charles' episode in season 1

isabella perez oh, same! we're very emotional people. i also avoid daniel's episode in season 5. and i can't stand otmar.

oscar piastri mood. esteban ocon same. pierre gasly you're lucky you didn't have to work with the guy. lance stroll welcome to the club

sebastian vettel any mention of my bee corner?

isabella perez no, and the people are upset. they wanted more of seb's buzzin' corner

logan sargeant he got the logan treatment, completely forgotten.

oscar piastri that's not funny mate.

alex albon lily and i are working on getting rid of his tendencies to degrade himself.

max jones-verstappen how's that working for you two so far? alex albon not well as you can see

daphne jones-ricciardo we have a new set of grid parents!

daniel jones-ricciardo GO TO SLEEP!

daphne jones-ricciardo shh! i just got to episode 3.

fernando alonso my favorite episode is episode 1.

max jones-verstappen ARE ALL OF YOU WATCHING IT?

lewis hamilton i wanted to see how they foreshadowed my move to ferrari. mae jones-verstappen daphne dragged me into this. daphne jones-ricciardo LIAR! IT WAS YOUR IDEA! george russell i wanted to see how i evolved through the season

max jones-verstappen i guess i should watch it.

daniel jones-ricciardo i promise you won't regret it.

12 hours later

max jones-verstappen you're a fucking liar daniel jones-ricciardo. i regret it so much.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting@anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

click here to be added to the honest series taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! pushing my disliking for danica and otmar with this one. i still don’t understand why she was in season 6 of dts when she’s never driven an f1 car. i was thinking of doing a written part for the parts i made up but would anyone be interested in that?

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 6

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 ,-

I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.

Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️

You shot a glare at Bucky, who only chuckled in response.

Linking his arm with yours, Bucky suggested, "Let's go meet them together."

Rosie was taken aback when she spotted Bucky.

"I woke up today and still don't see the other half, Princess," Bucky quipped.

Maintaining her composure, Rosie replied, "You're too impatient. My assistant just delivered it to your club."

"Ooh, then I hope you like the service," Bucky retorted with a smirk.

"Impeccable," Rosie replied smoothly, before turning her gaze to you. She tilted her head slightly and added, "I always sensed that you're an adventurous person. I admire your work. I felt comfortable when I found out you're part of this."

You hadn't expected such a compliment from her. While you had met Rosie a few times before, you always felt a sense of superiority from her.

Surrounded by Eddie and Freddie, you never felt out of place. But when Rosie, with her royal blood as a princess, joined the group, the dynamic shifted, and the boys seemed to adopt a more regal demeanor.

Despite your ability to keep up with them, there were times during the summer when you preferred to retreat to Rupert's empty mansion.

You leaned in closer to Rosie and whispered, "Why did you do it?"

Rosie leaned in, her voice barely audible as she replied, "That man doesn't fit to be the future King. It wasn't me who wants him dead. I only lent a hand."

As Rosie spoke, you realized that the relationships within the royal family were even more intricate than you had imagined.

"Some people like your work," Rosie continued. "And I think you will get another client."

Bucky puffed out his chest proudly upon hearing this, nudging your shoulder. "You hear that? Encore."

However, you didn't share Bucky's excitement. While the client may have admired your work, you couldn't find any pride in the situation.

Excusing yourself, you stated, "I need to see my mom and Charlotte."

Once you were at a distance, you pulled out your phone and dialed the family lawyer, Cedric. "Cedric, we need to meet."

#########

Back at the Evergreen Estate.

Cedric informed you, "The debt you have to pay is 3 million." You requested him to find out everything about the debt, unwilling to rely solely on Bucky, as you suspected he wasn't giving you the complete picture.

Lighting a cigar, you took a few puffs in silence as Cedric continued. "The first 4 million already got paid with the building that Bucky used as his club."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That place used to be Rupert's?" Bucky's mention of Rupert profiting suddenly made sense.

Cedric confirmed with a nod. "With 5 jobs done with Barnes, you have completed 2. That means only 3 are left."

Leaning back in your leather chair, you tapped your fingers thoughtfully. "I don't want to finish the rest. I'll just give him the money. But I also don't want to use the money from savings."

Understanding your dilemma, Cedric pondered briefly before suggesting, "Selling the assets will take a while since the deadline to pay the debts is near. What about selling an artwork?"

His suggestion lightened your burden slightly. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, you inquired, "What artwork does Rupert have?"

Cedric's response was impressive. "One of a kind. One original artworks by DaVinci, Monet, and Van Gogh. One painting is worth more than 1 million pounds."

You nodded in agreement. "Good. Sell those. But will the transaction be quick?"

Confidently, Cedric nodded. "I know some people."

"Then, get all you need. You can have 10% from each artwork," you decided, showing trust in his abilities.

Cedric hesitated, "Your Grace, are you sure you want to let go of the paintings?"

You shrugged, unaffected. "I do explosions for a living, Cedric. I don't have the sentiment to admire a painting."

With a bow of his head, Cedric accepted your decision and left.

As you watched him depart, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. At least tonight, you could block any calls from Bucky.

##########

For two days, you relished in the tranquility of the countryside, finally having the chance to appreciate the simple joys of life. Breakfast with tea, a luxury you never had time for in your military days, now became a cherished routine as the head of the household.

But your peace was shattered when your mother, Susan, entered with a gloomy expression. “I saw some paintings taken down from the wall. Do you know the reason why, my dear?”

You remained focused on your newspaper, not bothering to look up. “I sold them.”

Susan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Why would you do that? Those masterpieces have adorned this house for years.”

Without lifting your gaze, you replied curtly, “So you’re more concerned about the paintings than paying off our debt?”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Flipping the newspaper page, you continued, “I’m the head of this household now, and I have full rights to do as I please, Mother. I refuse to be burdened by debts while you stand idly by.”

You added, a hint of frustration in your tone, “It’s better to sell the paintings than to risk losing the house, don’t you think?”

Susan gasped, taken aback by your audacity. She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room.

The tension lingered in the air, but you remained resolute in your decision, knowing it was necessary for your family's survival.

While the butler of the house remained stoic, devoid of any emotion like you, he asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee, Your Grace?”

You replied, “Yes, please. That would be great.”

The bitterness of the coffee offered a temporary escape from the turmoil caused by your childish mother.

But it seemed the universe had other plans, denying you the chance to find peace. You heard a familiar voice, the harbinger of your nightmares. “Make it two, please.”

Bucky entered with his usual high energy, greeting, “Good morning.”

Without awaiting your permission, he took a seat beside you. “So, last night someone came to my club and brought a briefcase with 3 million pounds inside. It's to pay off Rupert’s debt.”

You took a sip of the coffee. “Yes, that means our association has ended.”

Bucky's expression softened. “First of all, thank you for settling the debt on time. But it pains me to lose a friend.”

You retorted, “Find another one.”

Bucky sighed. “Don't want to. You're one of a kind.”

You acknowledged his compliment but remained firm. “I appreciate your words, but I have no desire to utilize my expertise in such a manner again.”

Bucky nodded understandingly. “Alright, I understand. But I don't want our friendship to end. And we're also business partners.”

He raised his coffee cup, proposing a toast. “To our new beginning.”

You pushed aside your coffee cup, the porcelain clinking against the saucer, echoing the heavy tension in the room. Every visit from Bucky seemed to herald trouble, and today was no exception. "Every time you come here, you bring bad news."

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an underlying tension in his posture, a sense of unease that matched your own. "Not this time," he insisted, but his words did little to assuage the growing apprehension in the air.

"Hmm." Your response was clipped, your mind already racing with dread-filled possibilities.

'Ring.' It was Eddie.

The sudden intrusion of the ringing phone shattered the fragile calm, jolting you and Bucky out of your uneasy silence. You answered, your hand trembling ever so slightly. "Hello?"

"I've got bad news."

The words from Eddie on the other end of the line felt like a confirmation of your worst fears. The room seemed to constrict around you, the air growing heavy with tension.

"What is it?" Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the anxiety that clenched at your chest.

"Charles. He got into a problem with the wrong people."

Your heart sank. The implications of Eddie's words hit you like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

"How bad is it?" You struggled to maintain composure, but the panic threatened to overwhelm you.

"He's tangled up with a cocaine syndicate."

"Oh no." The words escaped your lips in a hushed whisper, laden with fear and dread.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

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#the gentlemen 2024 #eddie horniman x you #eddie horniman #theo james x you #theo james #mob!bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #mob!au

[navstuffs]

Blind Date

Pairing: Leon x GN!Reader

Summary: Luis arranges a blind date for you.

Warnings: short fluffly/comedy one-shot, au (obvs), awkward reader, alcohol consumption (leon, reader can be drinking whatever)

Author's Notes: : hello, this is my first official leon fanfic! i have two or three more projects with him but idk when they will be coming out. i had lots of fun writing this and i hope you do have fun reading it! i used this video as ambiance for bar sounds if you want to imagine yourself there as you read it!

You enter the bar on a Saturday night, adjusting your jean jacket. The place is crowded, and your eyes glance around, looking for your date. Doesn't seem he has arrived yet. This would be your first blind date ever, and honestly, you didn't know why you were doing this. Luis insisted that you go; he knew a great guy, and Luis promised you would have lots of fun.

The hostess takes you to the bar counter, you sit and order your favorite drink before anxiously turning your head to the door. It is alright, he isn't late, you are just early. Fifteen minutes to be exact. Also, if he doesn't appear, you could use that as your social experience of the year, and Luis wouldn't be able to take you to any more social gatherings. Perfect.

"Waiting on someone?" You turn to the sudden masculine voice at your side, startled. The man is wearing a dark blue shirt, too tight for his chest, you think, and dark jeans. He has blonde hair, some hair locks in front of his face. And he is attractive. Like the type you would see on the cover of magazines as some sort of male supermodel. 

"Mhm, yeah. My very first blind date, actually," You admit, ashamed, as the bartender places your drink in front of you.

"Oh? Do you know what they look like?"

"No. My friend said look, go there and give my friend a chance. Not a single tip, except his item is pink."

"And what is your color?" 

"Something neon," Feeling silly, you point to the neon bandana around your neck. Blonde guy turns at your side, and you feel his blue eyes lock at your bandana for a second before turning back, sipping from his whiskey cup. You give another quick look toward the door. Nothing yet.

"You must trust this friend a lot to come to this date without even knowing what your date looks like."

"Tell me about it?! Luis said it needed to be like the first time meeting, or it would 'break the magic'! If I didn't trust Luis so much, I'd never EVER come to meet a man I don't even know the name!"

"You don't know his name?!" Hot blonde guy sounds shocked and amused. Well, you look foolish now.

"As I said, Luis told me it needed to be first magical meeting or something or wouldn't work?! Now you are making me feel silly, Mr...?"

"Leon. Leon Kennedy," You present yourself and shake his hand. Leon looks entertained, watching you look over the door again. Nine minutes still. You quickly glance in Leon's direction, realizing the size of his arms. He probably worked out a lot to have arms like that, damn. Could break you in half if he wanted in so many different ways.

"What do you think he looks like?" Leon suddenly questions, bringing you back from your impure thoughts. You can feel his side stare as you ponder.

"Mhmmm...fun? Smart? Easy-going? Less awkward than me on this?" 

"What if he is more awkward than you?"

"Then, pardon my language Leon, but then we are both fucked." 

"You don't seem to do this often," Leon affirmed as the most obvious thing in the world. You scoff.

"Wow, you figured that one now?"

Your attention is taken by the sound of the door opening. You turn, anxious to see a man with a long sleeve light pink shirt walk in. He enters, glances around, and looks at his phone. Shit, shit, shit. He is cute. Not as attractive as Leon, but oh well. Doesn't look so awkward, like you, he looks like he belongs to this place. You don't know what to do to yourself now, maybe if you sit differently, he could see your bandana better. Rolling your eyes because of your nervousness, you turn the bandana around, praying that he notices you. 

He waves at you, prompting you to wave back. He walks in your direction, smirking ear to ear, and passes to meet his friends, leaving you mortified. This was not happening!

"Shiiiiiiitt...." You groan, resting your forehead down into the bar. Leon hides his mouth with his hand, holding back a laugh. You murmur to yourself, "Well, that was supposed to be expected, I guess, with my luck."

You get up, not looking in Leon's direction, asking for the bill. After this fiasco, you wouldn't stay at this bar for any minute longer.

"You know, thank you so much for being patient with me, Leon, it was really great, I appreciate that, and I hope you have a great nigh-" The rest of the sentence dies down in your throat as you see the small pink panther statue resting in front of Leon. Your stare goes to his face as he finishes his cup and turns to you, a teasy smirk on his lips, his blue eyes glowing in your direction.

"I don't think I am late, am I?"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy fanfic #leon s kennedy imagines #IM DRUNK ASF #IDK HOW EDIT THIS IS #but this fanfic is so special for me

[armpirate]

Indelible memories || Choi San

Bf experience

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 7.1k

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, vanilla sex, musical tantric sex, masturbation (female and male receiving), protected sex, teasing, dirty talk. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).

Summary: It's your last week in Seoul, and your boyfriend has assured you you will remember every bit you spend together until you leave.

Aprox. time of reading: 30 minutes

MASTERLIST

I used a scene from a book by Megan Maxwell to inspire the smut. So, if it rings a bell for you, you already know why!

Boyfriend experience

Wednesday

The weight of your boyfriend's head on your shoulder made you quickly turn to him, finding him with his eyes half closed as he fought with his life to keep them open. He quickly made the attempt to sit straight, but his head didn't take long to start falling to the side softly as his eyes slowly closed at the same time, just to suddenly open when he was aware of how his body was leaning to the front a bit faster the deeper he fell asleep.

He was trying his best to stay awake, only because you wanted to watch that movie with him.

"Babe, let's go to sleep" you tried to convince him for the third time that night.

"Why? I'm awake" San insisted, making an effort to show off how he wasn't tired, although his puffy eyelids and the small marked circles underneath his eyes made it obvious enough for you. "Let's keep watching the movie".

You knew where all that stubbornness was coming from. And you also knew there would be no way to get San to change his mind after he convinced himself he'd be able to stay awake, although he hadn't been able to sleep properly for the past two days. He finally had a few days to get some rest, as his schedules cleared up a bit after coming and going to different places, but he kept pushing himself to the edge.

After you had gone forward with the promotion, San promised you he'd spend that last week with you as if nothing else mattered. In any other circumstance, he'd just agree with you on meeting on a different day if he felt his body wasn't going to handle it, but those last days he didn't care about it. He'd even crawl to your place if that meant he'd get to be with you as much as possible.

He just didn't want to regret not spending as much time as he could once you were gone.

His arm wrapped around you, changing the position of your bodies so you'd be lying on his side, while he leaned his body a bit more onto the armrest, to get his head to find some support in the palm of his hand.

That position was the killing shot for him. After fifteen minutes, you managed to look at him over his shoulder, finding him completely knocked out. His arm was stretched over the armrest, and his head had fallen over his bicep, his eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted as he finally allowed his body to get that well-deserved sleep.

"Love, let's go to sleep" you insisted again.

You didn't want to wake him up, but you also didn't want him to sleep in such an uncomfortable position.

"Stay here" he mumbled. "I don't want you to go".

You'd have thought he was awake, but the way his words sounded sloppy while being dragged with his tongue, and how he licked his lips to moisten them to proceed to close his mouth and keep sleeping, told you he was indeed asleep.

Hearing those words from him only made sense if he was asleep. And that, somehow, hurted you even more, because he hated the idea of you leaving as much as you did, but he still put on a facade, hiding his feelings so you wouldn't feel discouraged to do it. It made your heart ache to think that he believed he had to hold it in for you.

That night you curled up to him tighter than ever, not wanting to let go of him and everything that he meant for you.

Thursday

His hand was squeezing yours as you walked down the street. San picked you up at home, changing your plans last minute because he came up with a surprise out of nowhere, which he tried to avoid telling you about so he wouldn't ruin it. And you could tell he had most definitely avoided giving in to your interrogation tactics by avoiding speaking at all, with the only exception of telling you to hurry up or follow him.

Until he stopped in front of a closed establishment. You didn't know why you were there. The inside was dark, you could barely see further than what the lights of the street allowed you to.

"We shouldn't be doing this" you tried to stop him, holding onto his sleeve when he pulled the door open.

With everything that was going on in your lives, the last thing you needed was to have him involved in a scandal after breaking into someone else's establishment.

Your grip on the sleeve of his sweater got tighter when he stepped inside, waiting for you to do the same "If someone catches us..."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, but..." before you could go on to point out the several reasons why you shouldn't be taking a step inside, San threw the most convincing tone you could've ever heard with those three words.

"Then follow me" he gently got rid of your grip, moving his right arm only so he could offer his left hand for you to hold it.

Even in that dim space, and only lightened up by the street lamps, you were able to see the way his eyes shined as he offered his hand to you, and it took you less than a second to hold it.

After he closed the main door behind you, and started walking among the darkness, only guided by some shadows on the floor, you were expecting for the alarm to blast at any point. All that nervousness was left behind after he crossed another door, leading up to a completely lightened up room, where there was an old lady sitting at one side of the table positioned in the middle of the room.

She quickly stood up and bowed to you two, getting the same greeting as an answer, although yours was a hesitant move, still unsure of what you were doing there, and why that lady with a brown apron seemed to be waiting for you.

"You've always wanted to do this" he started explaining, picking up one of the aprons hanging on the backrest of one of the chairs. "But for obvious reasons we couldn't" he sighed, stepping in front of you, "I managed to find a way to do it... Well, actually, Yunho did" his voice sound so soft as he explained himself, carefully moving around you to place the apron over your clothes. "Her daughter is a fan".

"What did you promise her?" you asked in a whisper.

"Free tickets for the concert, in exchange of keeping it hush hush from her daughter and sns" San answered in the same tone. "And maybe ten photocards signed by Hongjoong, but we'll worry about that another day".

The whole process of creating couple rings right from the start was something new and fun, but there was something so meaningful about it. Because it wasn't only the objects, it was how San pouted whenever he missed something, or the way the tip of your tongue stuck out when you were focused on engraving your initials together on the inside, or your laughs when San gasped when the old lady used the blowtorch to give shape to San's ring, or the way you exchanged looks whenever you had the chance. It was all of you and your feelings in those rings.

"This is so you don't forget who you belong to" he mentioned with a serious look, lifting your done ring in the air.

"As if I was thinking about that" you challenged him, letting him place the ring on your ring finger. "You'll be hearing more from me in Seattle than now".

"I hope so" he nodded, handing his ring to you so you'd put it on him the same way he did to you. Your thumb gently caressed his finger, letting out a sad smile take over your face.

There was something you wanted to ask, but you didn't dare to question out loud until you finally left the store with your new rings.

"Do you really want me to go?" the question came out so suddenly, and so out of nowhere after a few minutes, that it took San by surprise, not sure of why you were asking that.

"Is that a tricky question?" his eyes squinted

He left in the morning before you could even talk with him about what he mumbled in his sleep, and he dragged you out of home so fast that you barely had time to talk until you arrived at that shop.

"You've said what I wanted to hear, or what you think I want to hear ever since I told you. But I want to know what you really think, and what you really want. If you don't want me to leave, I can give up on..."

"Give up? Hey" his eyebrows were slightly furrowed at even the idea of you rejecting that opportunity for him. "You think it'd make me happy to see you turn down that offer because I said so? If we weren't together, you'd be thrilled for that promotion and you wouldn't have thought about it twice" your lips were pressed together when he described that reality. "Of course I don't want you to leave. I'd be tied at your hip if I could. But I also understand I can't push you back. You've always been supportive, and molding to my schedules and my life. And it's about time I do the same for you. I've always said you're my main priority, and your happiness takes part in that" his eyes were fixed on yours, although a few times they always ended up moving somewhere else in the street. "This will be a phase, to make us stronger" he assured you, cupping your cheeks, "We should take it as a long ass tour. We'll be back to each other before we can even think about it. Until that time comes, let's just enjoy this week together, hmm?".

Your arms wrapped around his body like that was the only place you wanted to be glued to, hiding your face on his chest while he completely covered your body in a big hug

Friday

You didn't think there was something weird with the way your boyfriend was dressed, with those unusual black baggy pants and oversized t-shirt, with his head being completely covered by a bucket hat and some random drawings covering his arms -until the edge of his sleeve- with black ink.

"Are those tattoos?" you finally asked in the car, moving your fingers over his skin to try to check what they were.

"Don't do that. It tickles" he moved his arm slightly, smiling before he answered. "They're fake. One of the stylists had it for a video performance, but we never ended up using it, so I asked him and he gave it to me to use today".

"Now that we're on it: aren't you supposed to be rehearsing right now?" your eyes squinted as you interrogated him.

San just shrugged, nodding at the same time he let you know he just didn't care "It's your last week. Yesterday I already spent way too much time outside, and I even fell asleep on Wednesday. The boys understood, so it should be alright" a low sigh announced the continuation of his explanation "It'll be just five days".

As he stopped the car, it made sense for you why he suddenly changed the way he dressed, or why he added those fake tattoos over his body. He wanted to be with you out in the open.

"I mean, it's a bit more effort than those celebs who think it's all done with a cap and shades" you pulled from the visor of his hat, making him whine and move your hands away.

"I also have a mask, so when I take off the hat in the attraction, they won't see my full face" he explained.

"Wouldn't that drag more attention on you?"

"That's why I'm using the tattoos" he explained as if it were obvious. "If someone thinks I'm famous, they'll check the tattoos and move on".

"It's concerning how much you've thought about this".

You were teasing him, and he knew it by the funny smile you had on your face before you started walking to the entrance. San moved fast though, intertwining your fingers together, holding your hand like he was going to do for the rest of the day.

Saturday

Another gasp came out with some splash from the water as you sank his arm into the sink filled with warm water. After his idea of disguising as someone else in the theme park turned out well, or so you thought, San found the rest of the morning trying to get rid of the fake tattoos with no luck.

"What the hell is this tattoo made of?" you kept rubbing the sponge on his skin. "I bet a real tattoo would be easier to erase than this".

"Today is the party, I can't show up like this" he complained.

"What party?" you suddenly stopped after what he said, looking up to him.

His eyes momentarily went big, quickly avoiding yours and concentrating back in his arm. "Party? What party?".

"You said today is the party" the emphasis on each word fell on San's back like a heavy bag.

He ruined the surprise, after he had told everyone to keep it quiet for you.

"I organized a party for you" he sighed, almost moving his arms out of the sink, but being kept from doing it by your hand holding tight on his upper arm. "I wanted you to take a good memory to Seattle, I invited some of our friends, the boys, even my parents are going to come... I told everyone not to tell you".

You could tell how disappointed he was at himself for ruining the surprise so easily, after all the effort he had put in it and keeping it a secret since he started preparing it.

"I'll pretend I'm surprised for you" you assured him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Now we really need to get rid of this".

Sunday

You were used to San spoiling you, but so much and so many days in a row? It felt like you were in paradise. You had been telling him constantly he didn't need to do all of that, you tried to assure him it was enough with just having him around, especially after how tired he probably was after the previous night's party.

Yet there he was. Whenever you needed something, he brought it to you. Whenever you were hungry, he prepared something for you. And whenever you wanted to do something, he'd agree without a single trail of doubt.

"I can't enjoy it" your head shook, as your eyebrows furrowed and your lips grimaced when you won the game.

"You literally humiliated me. I've never had such a bad time playing Monopoly".

"How do I know you didn't let me win?"

"Are you kidding?" he pointed to the board, "I even bought the blue ones, but you didn't fall on them a single time. We should've stopped playing after I gave you two of my properties" teasingly, he threw the fake money.

"What can I say? I'm good with business".

Your smile made him forget about everything he was complaining about, feeling happy and in the right place just by seeing those wrinkles in the corners of your eyes as your lips curved up with pride. Whatever happened, however that new experience turned out, he was sure he'd do everything in his hand to keep you smiling that way. Thinking about having to see that smile through a screen was something that killed him the few months he left for a concert, but it always made him feel better to know he'd see it in person after a short while, but now you both were entering that difficult phase where neither of you knew when would be the next time you'll be together like that, without worrying about taking a flight back home, because you two were in the same place together.

You had started picking up all the pieces to put them inside the box when he said: "Are you good at dancing, too?".

"You know I'm not" you chuckled, resting your hands at the edge of the small table.

San seemed to ignore your answer, because he got up from the floor either way and reached his hand to you, waiting for you to take it. You were still as confused, but it didn't stop you from taking his hand and standing in front of him, allowing him to guide you to one side of the living room.

"So suddenly?" you asked when his hand moved to your waist.

It wasn't like that was one thing out of the ordinary. Your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic, and whatever idea that could make him feel like he was in a movie, he'd do it without thinking about it twice. And you always followed along, feeling full with those small gestures, because there wasn't anything more meaningful than those bright eyes looking down at you as if you were the most important in the world, while he guided your body with gentle moves.

Your cheek rested over your hand on his shoulder, while your nose rubbed a few times against his neck, trying to memorize his smell as well as you could.

"Did you improve your dancing skills?" he teased you, speaking before you could remind him of the pain he was trying to leave aside. "You haven't stepped on me yet".

"Is that an invitation for me to do it?".

San simply smiled, leaning over to link your lips together as you kept turning slowly on your feet. There was no music, but it was the best dance he had done in a long time.

Monday

"Three kids" he quickly said, finishing his map.

At that time, you were regretting ever teaching him that random game a few weeks back when you were bored. Every few seconds, he'd break the silence and lift his head to look at you over the folds of your t-shirt, momentarily freeing you from the weight of it on your chest.

"Three kids... Are you insane?" you took the notebook away from him.

Where there should be the three crushes' names, he had put: dog, cat, other. Looking below, you could see how excitedly he had encircled the number three, related to the number of kids he would have, and even lower, he had written three different professions: singer, writer, personal trainer.

"Why did you even include writer? You don't ever let anyone read your poems"

"Now I'm an idol, nobody should be allowed to read them"

And he did really mean it. Nobody, not even you, had ever read one of his poems.

"And personal trainer?" you chuckled.

"I didn't know what else to put there" he excused himself. "It was the first to go, luckily. It isn't meant to happen".

"Hey, in the location you didn't even write real places: Y/n's heart, my heart, anywhere... This is cheesy even for me" San snatched the notebook from your hands, giving it another read.

"I didn't want to put a real place" he shrugged. "Wherever it is, it's not important. What matters is that we're together" his tone quickly changed as he focused on another part of the game. "We'll get married in five years, right after I return from military service. Hmm, here it says it'll be in winter, but we could ignore it and get married in spring".

"Yeah, that sounds better" you nodded, playing along. "Hmm, I've always thought of getting married out in the open, with a cute dress with my shoulders exposed. I can't do that in winter".

"Why don't you do it and see what turns out?".

You'd have liked to pretend you didn't want to do it, but just the idea of planning your future together sounded exciting and tempting itself. It was a conversation you had a few times already, although it never seemed as serious as that evening.

It almost sounded like a promise between you two.

The smile on your face couldn't be hidden as you quickly sat up, starting to write all those details in a whole new sheet.

Tuesday

"I don't get why we're doing this" he complained, surrounding the bed with deep steps until he was standing on the side opposite to yours.

"Because you said you wanted us to remember this night for a long time" you giggled, quoting him a few minutes back when he was kissing you while you were on top of him. "And we will" you assured him.

"Yes, I'll remember this as the night my girlfriend..."

"Are you complaining?" you warned him, lifting your index in his direction, "Because you said you'd do everything I wanted to do on our last night". A click of tongue confirmed you were starting to get annoyed "Don't you trust me?"

"I do" by the way his lips opened again right after, you were sure he was about to speak, but you interrupted him before he could.

"Then choose three songs. The sexiest songs you can come up with" he sighed, finally giving in and picking his phone out of his pocket to look for the songs that could fit the mood you wanted to build.

He just couldn't resist you whenever you came up with an idea, it was so special whenever you confessed what you wanted to do. It showed how deep the trust was between you two, how your relationship was so safe in every aspect, that he only wanted to build it stronger. So San chose those three songs carefully, scrolling through his general playlist until he found them.

When he turned to you again, your lip was trapped under your upper teeth, and your gaze was eager for more than just him. San left his phone over the nightstand, following your guidance before you told him to get naked together, where you were standing in that moment, working on your respective clothings until you were completely naked in front of one another, with a distance that seemed like kilometers.

The hairs in your body raised as he scanned your naked body among the darkness, delicately looking at you from head to where the edge of the bed allowed him to see. And you did the same, making him feel suddenly nervous and exposed for the first time in those almost two years of relationship.

Under your guidance, he sat in the middle of the bed, following your movements while you crawled over the mattress to where he was, only moving away from him to pick up the phone.

"We can't speak and we can't touch each other while the first song plays" you warned him.

"What do you mean I can't touch you?" he whined as you joined him in the middle of the bed, placing your legs around his waist.

"You can't" you firmly shook your head. "If you do, I'll replay the song. When the second one starts, we'll be able to touch each other, kiss and speak. And, with the third one, everything will be allowed. Got it?".

Aware that you were waiting for him to answer, he nodded "Got it".

After he nodded for one last time, you finally clicked on the play button. Just a second later, a slow and sensual bhangra melody filled the room, covering your heavy breathing. You had to hold back from speaking out loud and congratulating him for picking such a good song. Ride it by Jay Sean would've been in your list if you had been in charge of it.

Touchin' and teasin' me, tellin' me no

The second your eyes met, you could see the way he was trying to hold his breath, piling up every effort to keep his hands away from you. You knew your boyfriend for long enough to know that he was going to speak before he emitted a sound.

"You look beautiful tonight".

"Babe" you whined. "We can't speak, remember?".

"I know. But I needed to tell you".

"Then tell me through your eyes" both of your fingers pointed at your eyes, to later point at his. "Let's focus on each other, hmm? Look at every detail, let your head imagine and your body feel".

Twisting his lips again, he nodded. And while it seemed like he had it all under control, his voice suddenly sounded over the music again "Will I be able to tell you through my eyes?".

"Babe, you have the most expressive eyes I've ever seen in my life. You'll be able to" you assured him. "Let's try it again".

San closed his eyes, trying to focus and gain some control back, after suddenly feeling so nervous under your gaze. It was such an intimate moment, that he didn't really know how to deal with it silently. He felt so exposed, yet so connected to you when your eyes met, that he felt tickles in his body when you gave him a tiny sided smile to let him know you were feeling the same way. He wasn't touching you, but you could feel the warmth of his body almost coating yours, his forearms were on each side of your ankles, but it felt like they were searing your skin.

Your eyes, and the lyrics of that song, were the only way you had to communicate everything you wanted to do to each other right in that moment. He was craving your voice, and hearing you whimper with every touch of his fingertips on your soft skin, while you were dying to cover his lips with yours, finding them more tempting than ever before.

You wanted to feel each other, you wanted to hear each other, you wanted to lose control together... But the last minute of the song kept you from doing so, almost feeling like there was a chain keeping your hands away from each other as you battled your deeper wants.

The seductive sound of a trumpet marked the ending of the first phase, and the beginning of the second one. You recognised the song almost instantly, moving closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck. Chase Atlantic was never his cup of tea, but he still chose Slow Down for that moment.

"I thought you said you didn't like this song" you teased him, sinking your fingers slowly in his hair.

"I don't, but it reminds me of you" he confessed, finally moving his fingers over your calves, "and how pretty you looked while I fucked you in the backseat of my car".

Just hearing those words coming out of him made your core throb with need, and the images replaying in your head made it feel so vivid that you could almost feel every inch of his dick rubbing against your walls and making you curl your toes inside the sneakers you wore that night. That song started playing when you two moved to the back, and he started pounding into you from behind after you had teased him on his lap.

"Did I?" you purred against his lips. "You always look so hot when you show how bigger and stronger you are, maybe that had a lot to do with how I looked" your lips traced his marked jaw, slightly sticking out the tip of your tongue.

He gulped so loud that you could hear and feel the moment the spit went down his throat when your lips met the freckles of his neck. You knew how sensitive that spot had always been for him.

For a second, he had you under his charm, you were under his control by how quick he was using the dirty talk to make you weaker, but you clapped back quite fast, making him suddenly nervous by how soft and seductive your voice sounded at the same time.

He remembered how insecure and lost you were on your first times, and how slowly you became the woman you were then: fierce, sexy, free... And what made him twitch between your bodies was thinking that he was the only one that saw that change.

You kissed him first, sucking his lower lip so delicately that he thought his whole body paralyzed with the way you trapped him. But your head quickly moved back before he could make the kiss go deeper.

He tried once, twice... always with the same result. Until he hooked your jaw in his fingers with a growl, moving your face to him to link your lips together just the way he wanted to have you. His tongue moved first, sneaking through your lips to make you gasp when it twirled around yours.

The first song had made you so sensitive and needy for his touch that the slight rub of his tongue on yours had you clenching around nothing, and grinding your hips against his hard-on for some friction.

"Babe, I thought you said I should take it easy" he broke the kiss to tease you for your own desperation. "You need me so bad?".

"Uh-hum" you licked your lips, cleaning all the remains of your mixed spits on them. "I need to feel you stretching me out as good as you know" you purred against his lips, but he only smirked in response.

He had insisted on saving up all the energy for your last night together, to make it more special for the both of you. And just for that same reason, you came up with the idea of doing tantric sex to start the night -after reading it on a book-, but it only ended up with you being victim of your own torture.

Your breathing instantly cut when two of his fingers moved over your clit, slowly and gently rubbing in eight-shapes traces. San had to control himself from surrendering to you after he met your folds, finding them completely soaked in your arousal.

"The song hasn't finished yet. Don't try to tempt me" almost covering your body, he leaned over you to whisper in your ear. "This was your idea".

Your breathing was faster, and your hips seemed to find a way to move by themselves, lifting every single time against his digits. You were so trapped when he kissed you again, that you didn't know when your fingers hooked around his wrist and moved his fingers down your pussy.

"What do you want?" he hissed against your lips, dedicating you one of those filthy looks that just made you want to do all the nasty things that came up to mind.

"Finger me" your voice sounded weak, but your petition was so determined that it almost sounded like you were begging.

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt two of his fingers pushing inside your entrance, getting deeper until he was knuckles deep in you.

He never went too fast, his finger never curled in your insides to reach that glorious spot, he just kept you there hanging as his digits pounded in and out of you so slowly that you were sure he was just trying to drive you crazy.

But two could play that game.

Millimeters away from his lips, you spit on your hand to guide it to his hard shaft, while your other hand pushed him to your lips by his nape. He groaned during the kiss while your fingers moved over his dick, coating it with the saliva before you wrapped them around it and started moving your fingers up and down, barely adding any pressure.

That kiss turned so hungry, so savage, that you both knew it was only a declaration of how much you both needed each other at that point of the game. While neither of you wanted to give in first, you were almost praying the other surrendered and took the next step before the song ended.

The pop-rock R&B music stopped, letting a slower indie rock song start. You both looked at each other knowing exactly what it meant: the start of the third phase.

"New rule: we can't touch each other until..."

You didn't let him finish, pushing his body onto the mattress to straddle his body with one leg on each side of his hips. But San was faster, holding your body and making the two of you roll so he was on top between your legs.

"I don't want to wait anymore" you whispered, attempting to pout when you saw the tease in his eyes.

"Neither do I" he confessed, giving you a sweet smile.

San moved away from you only to pick a condom from the nightstand on his right, separating your bodies while standing on his knee to wrap himself with the latex. With another kiss, he completely covered your body, molding himself in between your thighs, with one hand cupping one of your cheeks while the other directed himself to your entrance.

Your nails dived on the skin of his shoulders as he stretched you out, slowly moving forward inch by inch until your hips were connected to one another. He stopped there, taking his time to admire every detail in your face as he rubbed his nose on yours.

While your legs were tangled together, you moved your foot up through his calf, at the same time your fingertips traced his spine from his lower back to his shoulders.

"San" you called him, having his eyes falling on yours with so much dedication that you felt your heart crumpling in your chest ", I'm yours".

It sounded like a promise.

And that was exactly what it was. You were assuring him that whatever happened, how far you were from each other, you'd remain his, just like he'd remain yours.

He leaned over you after saying that, linking your lips together before his hips started rocking against yours, steadily making your lower back hit the mattress every few thrusts. One of his hands never left your cheek, but the other wandered over your curves and in between your bodies, reaching your swollen button to get that first moan from you.

There was nothing more addictive than losing all types of control of your body because of San.

Your knees were at the level of his waist, while your heels digged on his lower back as his pounds got a little faster with the passing of time.

"Harder, babe" you moaned with a shaky voice.

Just like you asked, his thrusts went against your pelvis with a bigger impact, making your whole body bounce and emit that loud clap that echoed through the room and almost sounded over your voice.

San quickly moved your hands away from his face and his shoulders, holding you by your wrists to put them over your head. He only enclosed his fingers around your small joints for a few seconds, caressing your exposed palms with his digits until he was able to hold your hands, intertwining yours fingers together, closing his fist so tight to assure you that he wouldn't ever let you go. He linked your lips together again, drinking up all of your moans.

Succumbing to pleasure, feeling that knot in your stomach tightening with every move of his hips, and every rub of his pelvis against your clit, you tried to fight that outer force that made your back arch and your head move back, because you wanted to keep kissing him while he drove you to your orgasm. Curling your fingers a bit, you went from holding his hand to digging your nails on his knuckles, slowly losing every control that was remaining in your system.

San felt it on the way your moans sounded more choked, and the way you clenched around him like you never wanted him to let go, and that only encouraged him to go a bit faster, keeping that same strength of his thrusts.

Your orgasm was stronger than you, having you break the kiss to let out the deepest breath and the loudest moan that could gift his ears. He still went on, fucking you through your high to reach his.

One thrust.

Two thrusts.

Three thrusts.

And he was gone.

You recognised those small whimpers, getting out one right after the other, until a low groan culminated it all as his thrusts got sloppier and his cock twitched inside you while he spilled himself inside the condom.

His forehead covered yours and his hands finally let go of yours to caress your forearms while your fingers cupped his cheeks.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me" he whispered, with the most sincere tone in his voice.

"I know" you nodded, trying to move his bangs away from his head, only to have them fall back to the same place right after. "I love you so much".

"I love you, too" his head was hidden in the curve of your neck, while your arms hugged him tight.

But you didn't want sadness to ruin the mood of the night, you didn't want that sensation of losing something to get to you until the time you actually had to leave. It was your last night, and you two needed to enjoy it.

"Hmm, what about a second round?".

"You want more?" he asked, raising his eyebrows surprised as he looked at you again.

"Always".

After saying that, you succeeded at making your body roll over the bed, getting on top of him to go on with a night that you didn't want to see the end of.

Wednesday

That day nothing felt like you were going to leave, like you were actually saying goodbye to all those things. San drove you to the airport, and you still didn't have the sensation that you'd be seeing that city for the last time in a long while.

You both woke up curled next to each other, you both cuddled like you always did in the mornings you weren't busy, you both had breakfast and joked around. Not even dragging those two big suitcases made you feel like you were leaving.

Until you arrived at the airport and reality hit you.

You could feel the way your hand was shaking despite having his almost covering it, and that knot in your throat was tying up as tight as possible with every step you took. You were so focused on your thoughts, that you didn't know when exactly those tears started rolling down your cheeks until you felt a salty taste from one of them in your mouth.

"Hey, hey" he stopped, placing himself in front of you and leaning over so your eyes could be at the same height and be able to look at one another under the visor of his cap. "We promised we wouldn't do this".

"I know" you managed to say. "It's just... I can't..." your head shook, letting him know you wouldn't be able to say another word before you broke out crying again.

The rhythm of his heart beating should've been peaceful enough to calm you down when he hugged you, other times it definitely worked. But that morning it only made you want to stick to him, because you knew it wouldn't be there as soon as you got on that plane.

In your almost two years of relationship you never had to consider having to let it go to each other's safe place, not even once. And even if you had a week to get ready for it, you ignored it, spending time together and making you treasure that comfortable place that your relationship was.

And now reality was hitting you two like a truck.

"We'll text each other constantly, we'll facetime every day, I'll go visit you every time I can, and you'll come to visit me whenever you have the chance" he tried to calm you down. "Remember what we said?" softly, he moved back just to be able to wipe your tears away "This will only make us stronger".

You really wanted to take that step, to go further in your career, but it was burning your chest to know that was the sacrifice you had to make to get it.

His words managed to comfort you, they helped calm you down, but it had the reverse effect on him.

You felt a drop falling over your shoulder, and when you looked up, you could see San trying to hold back those tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. Your arms moved up to his shoulders, now adopting the position of the one who was comforting him to caress the strings of hair that escaped his cap.

"Time will also fly" you whispered with a shaky voice. "Who knows? Maybe I get the chance to come back sooner than what we think".

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling a strong grip around your body when your lips kissed the curve of his neck, right where his freckles were.

"We said we wouldn't make a scene, and look at us" you chuckled.

San had been so used to seeing you whenever he came back from tour, to escaping anywhere with you whenever he had a gap in his schedule, that finally realizing all those small plans would be gone for a long while was aching more than he could've imagined.

You stayed there after calming down, holding hands, just enjoying the last few minutes together before it was time for you to go. San held you tight, hugging you tight one last time before you started going your separate ways. Although you stopped shortly after you started walking, turning on your tracks and running to your boyfriend to give him one last hug.

When you kissed again, you felt that salty taste on your lips again, but you didn't know if it belonged to your tears or his. You two tried to force a smile when you broke the kiss and stepped back, trying to encourage the other to be well despite feeling broken inside. 

#armpirate #ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #ateez smut #choi san smut #sanxreader scenarios #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #soft #idol!au #idol!san

[ao3cassandraic]

What does Aziraphale know, and when does he know it? Part 1

Prologue, for those who haven't seen it.

Zira's first encounter with the Metatron in the Final Fifteen Minutes is when the Metatron walks into the bookshop disguised as mild-mannered Derek Jacobi human and interrupts Michael, who is threatening Aziraphale with total obliteration. He insults the archangels, then calls on them to say who he is. Aziraphale at this point -- we get one reaction shot of him -- appears to be in wary wait-and-see (heh) mode.

(Not wholly relevant here, but -- the first to show recognition of the Metatron isn't Crowley or Aziraphale, it's Saraqael, and isn't that interesting. I definitely have a meta in pickle about Saraqael, Heaven's Only Competent Angel.)

The Metatron then asks whether Crowley knows him. Aziraphale finds this intriguing, turning to Crowley with interest. Crowley does the-thing-that's-all-over-the-show-where-he-and-Aziraphale-drop-one-another-clues; rather than say the Metatron's name, he mentions his appearance as "big floating giant head." That's enough for Aziraphale to clue in and spill the beans, with genuine shock that the other angels (except Saraqael, again) echo.

What Aziraphale now knows that he hadn't known:

The Metatron has a human corporation. (Yes, he may have been Enoch-human in the past, but that's not entirely show canon yet; before now, Watsonianly, we've only seen the Big Giant Disembodied Head.)

The Metatron insults archangels. Labor angle here, incidentally: this is a manager insulting his employees in front of their supervisees (Aziraphale, Muriel) and even outsiders (Crowley). Management 101: DO NOT DO THIS, IT IS BAD. Praise in public, critique in private and without insults.

The Metatron and Crowley know one another. (Zero details on when, how, or why.)

The Metatron then dismisses Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael back to Heaven, talking down to them like Mary Poppins to the von Trapp children (seriously, "spit spot"? also, nice s1 callback). He even covertly threatens them! Uriel asks whether they have done anything wrong -- getting caught doing something wrong is fatal to an angel's identity as angel, as Aziraphale's concerned face in a brief reaction shot shows he knows -- and the Metatron only says ominously that that "remains to be seen."

After ordering the archangels off again, he openly hurls an ableist slur at Muriel rather than use their name, while demanding that they stay because "I may need you." This is a hardcore, shocking Villain Moment, y'all. The Metatron is Having A Moment. Pulling back to a Doylist perspective -- Neil freakin' Gaiman isn't going to drop a slur lightly. He's just not. He did it with full intent, and that intent is "the fucking Metatron is ableist trash." Returning to the Watsonian viewpoint, however...

What Aziraphale now knows that he hadn't known:

The Metatron wears scorn like royal vestments. It's pretty basic to how he treats others. (Doylistly: this tracks with both s1 and what we see of him in the recorded meetings that Crowley, Muriel, and Saraqael view. "Oh, don't be so wet!" he snarls at Saraqael, just for starters.)

The Metatron can order archangels around like children, even threaten them with judgment and punishment, and get away with it.

The Metatron doesn't just punch sideways-ish at the archangels, which might be justifiable; the Metatron absolutely punches down with his scorn. And wow, does he ever not pull his punches.

The Metatron thinks he's entitled to use others to serve his own needs.

If Aziraphale hasn't figured out by now that the Metatron abuses his quite substantial and dangerous power, he's not the angel I think he is. (As for Crowley, he's been absolutely leveled -- look at him sprawled out all but flat on Aziraphale's desk chair! He's not really paying attention. Also, per e3 he kind of agrees with the Metatron about Muriel, though he never himself uses ableist language about them.)

The Metatron says "Right," and we see Aziraphale again. Is he happy? He is not. Body held tense and straight, arms at his sides (though he looks about to clasp his hands together in front, a worry sign), face even warier. Seems a reasonable reaction to what he's just seen!

"It's just you and me, Aziraphale, eh?" It's damned blessed bloody well not. Crowley's right there, Muriel's right there, and the Metatron just erased both from consideration. RUDE! "I think we need to have a bit of a chinwag, don't you?" Aziraphale in both words and body would very much rather not, and I can't blame him one bit.

The Metatron then forces a bribe on Aziraphale, in the form of The Coffee That Launched A Thousand Metas. Aziraphale isn't clear on what the Metatron wants of him at this point -- "shall I drink it?" There's a striking parallel here to Crowleian temptations via novel experiences that other meta-ists have pointed out; like those, Aziraphale's reaction is positive ("it's very nice") but unlike them, it's decidedly subdued, scaled way down -- Zira certainly doesn't guzzle the coffee the way he inhaled the ox-rib. The Metatron indicates that getting a positive reaction from Aziraphale is the point ("well, I should jolly well hope so!") and verbally forces Aziraphale out the door for a Crowley-less, Muriel-less discussion.

Aziraphale is... less than enthusiastic, turning toward Crowley -- possibly to accompany him, possibly for a lead on how to handle this. Crowley, still in a state of exhaustion and bogglement, misses the cue. Oh, Crowley. Gargantuan, awful mistake! Totally understandable, of course, but Aziraphale needs a rescue here badly and (for the first time ever?) Crowley doesn't provide one!

Aziraphale's walk toward the bookshop door is diffident, halting. He glances back at the Metatron and Crowley as he goes.

What Aziraphale knows at this point:

The Metatron wants something from him. Just him, not Crowley or Muriel.

Rather than straight-up asking, rather than ordering (as he could perfectly well do), the Metatron is loading the dice with a Crowleyesque bribe/temptation. This is a slight hint (which the Metatron will shortly confirm) that the Metatron knows some things about the Crowley-Aziraphale dynamic.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know at this point:

What the hell the heaven on earth does the Metatron want from him?

And why might he need Muriel?

And we are all Aziraphale -- we all want to know too!

This is more than long enough for a post, so let's post it. Next up: The Chinwag.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #michael #uriel #saraqael #angel muriel #crowley #aziraphale #the coffee that launched a thousand metas #tw ableism #cw ableism #it's only mentioned but it's real #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens

[bunglestraydogs]

Nobody but Oda and Atsushi really care for Dazai.

Before ANYONE starts coming after me viciously and saying that obviously it's not just them that care for Dazai, I know. I'm not saying nobody else cares. I'm just saying that these two cared the most and are genuinely worried for him. Well, were. RIP Oda. <3

Let me explain why.

We all are very much aware of the jumpscare we got in BSD Wan, right? Where we thought it was all cute and happy, and BAM we get fucking shot in the chest by Dazai's "When I go, I hope to go out just as beautifully."

HELLO? This was not okay. Usually, when we hear Dazai talking about suicide (save for Fifteen and The Dark Era) he's pretty whimsical about it, not ever really serious. Yet, here, we see just how serious he is. Atsushi does think he's half-joking at first, before he looks towards Dazai and just sees this dead, dull look in his eyes whilst he smiles at the sky. Atsushi is rattled by this, and genuinely distressed. Fuck me, I sobbed when I first watched this scene, I was not expecting the wholeass 180. Anyways, we see how upset Atsushi is by this statement. "Please don't say stuff like that, even as a joke." We still get zero reaction from Dazai. Nothing. Here, we see him without his usual comic relief mask, but he's still guarding himself.

Let me get into why I think.

Dazai has not had anyone genuinely care about him at any point in his life (excluding before he was 14, fuck knows what happened there) so far. Mori, who was essentially a really twisted and fucked up father figure, didn't care about his wellbeing much, except for the fact that he stopped him committing suicide multiple times for the first year that he knew him. Not out of the kindness of his heart, but due to the fact that Dazai was still a necessary pawn in Mori's plans, and he couldn't let him die yet. It literally says so in the Fifteen LN.

Chuuya cares about him to some extent. When Dazai gets wounded (and it's not inflicted by Chuuya) he gets worried and concerned. Prime example being during their fight with Lovecraft, when Dazai gets fucking slapped against a tree. Chuuya punches Lovecraft with a "heavy fist" and then immediately runs over to Dazai, making sure he's okay. When Dazai eventually looks up, Chuuya becomes shaken at how bad his wound is. Then, the next time that Dazai gets slapped again, Chuuya is very very shaken, as Dazai starts spouting off about how he's going to die, and his final words. Chuuya is clearly rattled, and is trying to get him to shut up, asking him what the hell he means. Then, obviously, Dazai is messing, and Chuuya grows anger. Despite Chuuya's hatred for Dazai, he is clearly concerned where his partner's wellbeing is involved. The first time they meet, Chuuya is once again shaken by Dazai when he says to "kill him now then", and is taken aback. Through the years, however, Chuuya becomes desensitised to Dazai's suicidal antics, and he even teases him when they reunite, asking him if he still wants to kill himself, then grows disappointed when Dazai outright admits to it.

Kunikida is of course concerned about his partner, but is also exasperated and annoyed by him. When Dazai goes missing, he even jabs at the fact that he could of actually succeeded in killing himself this time (he mentions that he's probably floating in a river somewhere). As he does mention, though, "That man's ability to avoid death approaches nightmare proficiency." Then Ranpo, "Not even the Port Mafia would be able to get the better of him." And Kenji, "Even after all those suicide attempts, he's still as lively as ever." This is obviously fucking true, all of it. He sees through everything and each step of his is carefully planned and atriculated. However, as Atsushi says, "Still, aren't you worried?" He knows this, and he understands what they're saying, but he is taken aback by their lack of care. Then, Tanizaki steps in, saying that he'll help look for him. King. Atsushi is happy about this clearly. Atsushi really cares for him already, and he doesn't understand why everyone else is so calm about this situation. It's because they all know that he'll get himself out of there in one piece, as he is able to avoid these types of things expertly and deftly. However, Atsushi still is worried for Dazai. Kunikida has been Dazai's partner for two years now, and so he knows all of his antics and tricks, much like Chuuya. Chuuya, however, knows him better and more in depth. Because the ADA Dazai isn't really him. Of course, it is him, but with his darker side hidden a lot more. I don't think he's ever revealed it to any of the members except for Kunikida during his entrance exam. The rest all think of him as some goofball who's good at what he does and has a passion for suicide and women. However, Chuuya knows him as a twisted, unwell guy with a passion for suicide and all things dark, with a but of a wacky side to him. These two parallells still have one thing in common, however, and that's obviously suicide. Anyways, sorry, I was getting out of hand. Kunikida clearly cares for Dazai and his wellbeing, but again, is also infuriated by him and his attempts at suicide, which nobody takes seriously.

Mori. Fuck, man. This guy? Real piece of shit. Sees Dazai as an asset in his plan, nothing more, nothing less. He values him as a Port Mafia member, not a human being. The dehumanising nature of Mori greatly impacts Dazai and his quest for death; Mori exacerbates this multiple times. Yes, he stops him continuously from killing himself, but once again, only because he needs him as a piece in his game plan. He was the sole witness to his promotion as the boss of the Port Mafia, he can't have him go die on him now. So, he keeps a close watch on Dazai, surveillance constant. He controls and manipulates the shit out of him, using his craving for death as a means to get him to do what he wants, bargaining a drug for a comfortable way out in exchange for him doing missions for him, to which Dazai expects, wanting him to make him that drug. Mori saved him at 14, yet Dazai continues to attempt suicide countless times in just that one year. Mori does not care for his wellbeing, mentally or physically. He drives him out of the mafia with Oda's death, yet still expects him to want to come back as an executive. Despite claiming that he didn't drive Dazai out of the mafia, he indirectly did so. Now, I don't know if he sent Oda into this with the expectation that Dazai was going to leave, but I think he did but also don't think he did? I think he did this as a means to get Dazai more under his control and manipulate him, because he knew how close they were and he knew exactly what strings to pull to get Dazai to snap. Except, I don't think he predicted Dazai actually leaving the Port Mafia, because he couldn't of predicted what Oda would say to Dazai, and he couldn't of predicted how deep their bond was.

This brings me to my main and next point; Oda was the only one who ever cared for Dazai. Ango of course did, but not to the extent of Oda. I don't know if many people have read it, but if you haven't, spoilers for 'The Time I Picked Up Dazai' under the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the book, we see just how much Oda begins to really care about Dazai, despite him initially being some shady kid that turned up half dead on his doorstep. He ties him up to his bed just so that he won't try and escape and kill himself, as he exclaims to Oda. Oda goes through so many measures to make sure Dazai doesn't kill himself. Three times. Three fucking times. The first time being Dazai crawling to the door to try and get out so that he can get out of Oda's way and die in peace. The second time, he literally fights Oda because he's trying to stab himself. Then, two seconds later, tries to kill himself with the kettle. Oda has to physically stop him. Oda has to fucking strangle him unconcious to get him to stop. Despite meeting him only three days prior, he cares about his wellbeing. Part of the reason is obviously that he doesn't want a dead kid on his hands, but the other part is that he's growing to care for Dazai. All throughout this little book, we see little glimpses of Oda's genuine concern for Dazai. Obviously at first, he was debating just leaving him on the doorstep, because it wasn't really his issue. Yet, he still drags Dazai back to the bed and ties him up when he tries crawling out the house. In the Dark Era, we see him (in the alley scene) tell Dazai to stop talking after he almost gets shot, because he knows that he's just chatting shit. However, in the book (holy shit, it made me cry when I read it) this happens instead;

The way he described Dazai at the end of this scene kind of broke me. "That of a child about to burst into tears." Now, I don't know whether he meant that Dazai was so happy to finally just, you know, die, or that Dazai was just a troubled child. Both, I think. Odasaku sees Dazai as a child, just a child, and the fact that he wants to die so bad and has such a warped perception of the world genuinely hurts Odasaku. He doesn't want to see Dazai like that; it upsets him. He's genuinely angry at what Dazai did, much like how a father would be angry. He can't stand when Dazai's like this because it breaks his heart. Despite Ango scolding him for letting Dazai speak like that, as he will just start going more off the rails, Oda does tell Dazai not to be like that, and is concerned when he is and when he's serious about it, as opposed to him being whimsical about it in the bar. Ango and Odasaku are like father/brother figures to Dazai, they're fond of him and care about him deeply. Which is why it hurts Dazai so much when it starts falling apart. Bungou Stray Dogs fucking breaks me, because in the scene (I haven't finished The Dark Era LN yet, I'm sorry-) in the anime where Dazai is talking about how everything he loves or wants always leaves in the end whenever he obtains them. And so, when Odasaku died, despite how much Dazai prepared for the things he loves to be lost, he couldn't prepare for it at all. And when he finally loses it, he's lost the final stable thing in his life. His attempt at wanting to live had left. His friendship with Oda and Ango was stained with Ango's betrayal. His life in the Port Mafia became dull and depressing. His attempt at trying to live failed. And his best friend died in his fucking arms.

Then Atushi comes in, and reminds him of all he's lost, yet also all he wants to save and achieve. He raises Atushi, because that's what Oda would have wanted. He raises him because it's the right thing to do, and he wants to be there for him. But he doesn't expect Atsushi to begin to actually hold a deep fondness of him. Dazai, as we all know, cannot handle compliments or being cared for, because it's something so rare and foreign to him. So, even though it's supposed to be funny and nice, BSD Wan really hits fucking hard with this one. He doesn't realise that anyone actually cares for him; evil expects evil from others, as he said. Dazai is constantly on guard, cautious and reserved and shielded. He doesn't want to be hurt again. And so, when Atsushi says shit like this, it catches him off guard, but he can't let that show. He can't let anyone see him vulnerable, because everybody has an ulterior motive. He's going to be used for something.

Sound familiar?

SIGMA.

I know, jumpscare, right?

Bet you weren't expecting me to fucking jump to him.

But, I think that's why Dazai actually cares for Sigma in the little time he's come to know him. "I see. So that's how it is." He says after we see Sigma's internal monologue. Not going to lie, I think Dazai sees a bit of himself in Sigma and is trying to save him from that, and show him that not everyone tries to use him, and that he's safe with him and the ADA, which fucking works when Fyodor tries to manipulate him and Sigma pulls out a fucking UNO reverse card on him, and stands his ground, because he won't be used anymore. Dazai has never been able to confront Mori properly about anything, and so if he can let someone else feel what he wishes he could, then that would make him happy. Plus, Sigma's technically an orphan lol.

Another thing of importance to note is

Okay sorry I've been sat here for about five minutes trying to remember and I can't FUCK.

Anyways, the care from Atsushi that Dazai gets is foreign to him. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just doesn't respond at all. Because it hurts too much, and reminds him of Oda.

I THINK I REMEMBERED BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THIS WAS IT.

Anyways, despite it being what I thought of or not, it's a key point to make. When Atsushi's orphanage Director passes away, and he doesn't know how to feel, it's Dazai there to help him through it as he faces the loss of a "loved" one. He doesn't know how to feel about the Director's death. He was someone who raised him, someone who was always there. Except, the Director was a sick, twisted and cruel man, despite him only trying to prepare Atsushi from the worst and save him from what he went through himself and what Atsushi's parents did to him. Clearly not the correct way to raise a kid. However, Dazai tells him "When someone's father dies, they tend to cry." Dazai; emotionless, inhuman and uncaring. This is how Chuuya sees him in his Port Mafia days. This is how everyone saw him; someone to be feared for his lack of humanity and twisted way of dealing with things, his warped perceptions of the universe. Yet, when Odasaku dies, it's the only time we see Dazai crying, and it's the most upset or nervous or emotional we've seen him; the guy's a fucking wreck. This just broke me when he said that, not just because poor fucking Atsushi, but also because Oda was a father figure to Dazai. The only time we have seen him cry was of course Oda. And when he says that to Atsushi, my heart breaks. Literally crumbles. This series is actually god awful, I hate it.

In conclusion, Dazai obviously doesn't respond well to compliments or worries about his wellbeing, and Atsushi reminds him too much of Oda. Everything Atsushi is and does; Atsushi, who he's took under his wing as an orphan. Atsushi, who doesn't see the value or meaning in killing people. Atsushi, who asked Aku to be a mafia member who doesn't kill. Atsushi, who took in Kyouka, despite her flaws, and Dazai had to be there to explain that no matter what, she could be in the ADA, despite her kills, despite being an assassin, despite being in the PM. This shit hits hard for him, and I hate it so much.

Anyways, sorry for this long ass rant but it just kills me how nobody actually thinks to look deeper into Dazai's suicidal tendencies, as he's clearly not okay. Atsushi and Oda are the only one's who have ever thought to pursue it, and actively stop him from thinking like that.

I hope you're all having a lovely day/night! <3

#ada #bsd #pm #bungoustraydogs #armed detective agency #port mafia #atushi nakajima #osamu dazai #chuuya nakahara #oda sakunosuke #odasaku #kunikida doppo #mori ougai #analysis #bullshit though tbh im shit #i cant write for shit im so sorry #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #anime #manga #light novel

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Valentina sending Yelena to kill you Natasha's former protégé

A Few Hours Before Time Travel

"Here I want you to have this" Natasha said tossing something in your direction.

You were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone watching old news videos to take your mind. Off of everything that was going on barely paying attention to what she was saying. So instead of catching the item it hit you right in the face making you jump up and drop your phone on the table.

"Hey a heads up would've been nice Nat" you sputtered grasping the soft clothing item, and pulling it off your face. It was nice forest green vest mixed with some black and a lot of pockets. While vests weren't usually part of her outfit for fighting. This one you recognized from the first battle with Thanos, and you didn't think anything of it then. But that was a pretty rough battle and if she managed to not only hold onto it, but also made sure to repair any damages it sustained. Then the vest had to be special to her, and now that peaked your curiosity.

"I did give you one you were too busy playing on your phone" She shot back with a playful smile.

"Well its not like I have a big mission to prepare for or anything. Because you won't let me go time traveling with the rest of the Avengers, or did you forget?"

Natasha let out a sigh as a small frown took over her face.

This was an argument the two of you had multiple times in the past couple of days. Since Tony returned to the Compound and agreed to help figure out how to conquer the Quantum Realm, and when Clint was able to travel back in time successfully. The argument only got worse and the only thing that made you back down was when Tony and Steve stood by Natasha on her decision. There was no way you were going to be able to sneak your way onto the mission with all three of them watching you so closely.

You stood up ready to walk away not wanting to hear her excuses for excluding you again. On your way out you tossed the vest in the chair. You didn't even make it five steps before she reached you grabbing your shoulder, and swinging you around. Her other hand taking your chin in a gentle but firm hold. In order to prevent you from turning your head away.

"Y/N I know you're still upset and nothing is going to change that, but this isn't your fight-"

You cut her off at that with a fury in your eyes. "How is it not my fight I was there seven years ago. When he snapped his fingers and wiped out half of the population. I lost Peter he was my only real friend that knew what all of this was like."

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place neither of you should've been there. Why do you think Tony agreed with me? Gosh y/n it's a miracle Thanos didn't get you too." Natasha told you her eyes tearing up at the end. Her hand released your chin to caress your cheek, and then her other hand came up to graze the other one. "You're the only family I have left y/n, and just the thought of you not making it kills me inside. I need you to stay here and stay safe. There will be other wars for you to fight y/n and one day I won't be here to stop you. So please for now let me do this."

All you could was nod and wrap your arms around her in a tight hug. She returned it without hesitation kissing the top of your head. For a while the two of you just stayed like that. Until Steve announced on the intercom it was almost time for the mission, and to meet him in the main hall in about fifteen minutes.

Natasha pulled away to grab the vest out of the chair, and unzipped it before holding it out for your arms. You slipped them in letting her put it on.

"See a perfect fit like I said before I want you to have this. It means a lot to me and if I don't come back it's yours."

"Nat don't talk like that you're going to be fine but yeah I'll keep it safe for you. I'll never take it off until it's time to return it to its rightful owner." You promised fake saluting her

"Well if everything go as planned you'll be meeting her in a day or so." she said giving you a wink.

You raised an eyebrow trying to figure out what she meant by that, but she tugging on your arm demanding that you escort her to the platform. You figured it was a question that would be answered later.

Late never came and even though you never found out who the original owner was. You kept your promise to hold onto the vest for her never letting it out of your sight, and keeping it in perfect condition.

Present Day

"Rhodey are you sure this is legal?" You whispered crawling through the air ducts to a government owned building.

"No probably not but it's the only way to know if the intel Sam got from those terrorist is good or not" he replied back.

"We're Avengers why not just ask them?"

"Y/N since when is government ever honest with anyone about anything" Rhodey pointed out.

"Okay I get it but still if I get caught you guys better break me out the way Rogers did for them." You warned coming to a stop peeking through the cracks to make sure it was the right room.

"Oh please you were trained by the best" was the last thing he said. Before the comms were cut and you went dark. Just in case the security system was trying to pick up on the radio frequency.

You dropped down into the room landing in a crouch. The lights were off and the room was windowless which meant total darkness.

"Oh no not another poser" an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere in the shadows of the room.

You stood up looking around hoping whoever it was would make some sort of movement. Giving you an idea where they were, but whoever it was stayed very still. "Come on you got to admit the landing was pretty clean."

The stranger took the bait. "Yeah but was it really necessary, or do you just like showing off?"

It sounded the person was on your right. You pulled a throwing knife from the holster on your thigh. With a flick of your wrist the knife went flying in that direction. Your ears were able to pick up on some minimal moving and a thunk sound. The knife had struck the wall instead meaning your enemy moved.

"Not bad you might actually make this a bit entertaining for me" The person said with a small chuckle.

"Please walk away now and I won't bruise your ego too bad." You shot back circling the room when they started moving again.

"You sound pretty confident for someone who can't even see." The person was so close to now they had practically whispered in your ear.

You felt their breath on your neck but it was too late a blow to the jaw snapped your head to the side, and then a blow to the gut had you on your knees. You heard a small whistling sound and dropped back onto the floor rolling away. Hoping there was enough distance between you and her. It had to be a woman from her voice, and maybe it was the way she moved. You got back too your feet and raised your arms ready to block any attack.

"And you're pretty confident for a cheater." You countered closing your eyes to focus extra hard on the any sudden sounds.

She snorted "please there is no such thing as a fair fight in this world today. How do I know you don't have powers?"

"Don't you think I would've used them by now." Your ears strained to hear anything and finally there was a small squealing sound. You went low and threw your leg out in a sweeping motion. Your move landed because a second later there was a thud and a grunt of pain.

"What was that about me being at a disadvantage" You taunted.

"Oh now you're dead" were her last words and then she was back on her feet and on you in under five seconds. This time she didn't care if you could hear or feel her coming. She definitely had on some night vision goggles or something. Because for every hit you managed to block, she would immediately follow it up with one you didn't see coming. Which in the long run meant you were taking a freaking beating with only maybe one or two of your hits landing. She had no problem brushing them off refusing to give you an inch in this fight. A harsh kick to the gut knocked you off your feet and back into a door. Your back collided with the doorknob making you cry out in pain.

The vest you had on did somehow absorb some of the blow. Thank heavens for that or you might be down for the count, but it didn't seem like it really mattered. A clicking sound filled the darkness letting you know she had pulled a gun.

"Okay this was fun but I have other contracts to fulfill, and its obvious you're no match for me. You know usually I wouldn't do this but any last words?" She asked

You gave her a small nod eyes drifting up slowly. Right now the only thing you cared about was getting out alive. "How does it feel with the lights on?" In a last act of desperation you scrambled for the wall feeling around for a light switch. Maybe your question caught her off the guard, or maybe she just wanted to see what your plan was. Either way your hand was able to find the switch and flip it on. The room was thrown into light revealing your assailant who was dressed in all black including a black mask. She let out a cry of pain and shook her head dropping the gun. Her hands grasped desperately at the mask to pull it off.

You took the opportunity to stumble too your feet and yank the door open. But before you could even take one step towards freedom a hand grabbed the back of your suit. She pulled you back sticking out a leg causing to trip and fall backwards. You tried to get back up but a knee planted in your stomach kept your body pinned.

"Neat trick but this is over and even though I should-" Her voice trailed off as she loomed over you gun pointed at your head. Her eyes squinted as she observed something about you.

This finally gave you a chance to get a good look at your opponent. She was a pretty blonde with her hair braided back in the same style as yours, and green eyes. The look on her face was pretty relaxed even in the heat of the battle, but the longer she stared at you. The more distressed she seemed to become.

"Um are you just going to stare at me or..." You left the question hanging in the air. When she moved the gun away from your head placing it on the floor. One of her hands reached out to take a fistful of the vest.

"Where did you get this?" She asked her voice barely a whisper.

"My mentor gave it to me and I've been keeping it safe for her. Just until I can find the original owner" You answered. Not really knowing why you were telling the whole story. Maybe it was the way she was looking at it like she was seeing a ghost.

"Who was your mentor?"

"Natasha Romanoff you know the Black Widow" You told her. The next thing you knew her knee was gone from your chest, and she had pulled you to your feet.

"You knew my sister" she choked out.

In that moment it was like a distant memory was unlocked as you thought back to a picture. You found on Nat's nightstand when you were cleaning out her room in the Compound. It was her with the blonde girl standing in front of you right now. On the back of the picture was a single name. Your name felt around on the vest until you found the right pocket. She had released you by now giving you enough space, and waiting patiently to see what you were doing.

Eventually you did find the right pocket and dug the contents of it out. A necklace with an arrow charm and a crumpled picture but when it was straightened out. It was shown to be the same picture from the night stand.

You flipped it around to the back. "Are you Yelena?" I think I've been looking for you."

Yelena let out a sob reaching out for the picture her hand hovered over it for a second. Until you gave too her and went to remove the vest.

Yelena held up a hand "no you can keep it I'm sorry I didn't know who you were. Natasha never mentioned having a student or anything."

You shook your head shrugging out of the vest. "I promised her I would return it so let me do it please. Its okay I think she intended on introducing us to each other after saving the world."

Yelena clutched the vest to her chest with tears falling from her eyes. You were doing your best to not to fall apart with her but the memory of Natasha was back now and in full effect. Without a word Yelena pulled you into her embrace allowing you to bury your face in your shoulder and sob.

"Its okay sestra I'll protect you now" she said.

"No we'll protect each other" you insisted.

"I don't know you might need some more training before you can protect me" she joked with a teary laugh.

"I was holding back"

"Sure"

Taglist: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @xxromanoffxx @romanoffomixam @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @lizlil @meimei-a @natashasilverfox

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #yelena belova imagine #yelena imagine #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

[lavellenchanted]

If you're still taking requests for the fic prompts ask: what about Japril + 65?

(boop boop!)

BOOP! 65. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you

"What are those?"

April glanced up at Jackson and smiled, shifting over to make room for him to sit beside her on the couch. "Old photo albums. Harriet wanted to know what I looked like at her age."

She angled the album on her knee so Jackson could see the picture she was looking at. It had been a summer's day, and she was standing outside her family's barn with one of the ponies, in an oversize checked shirt, jeans and cowboy books. Freckles covered her face, and her hair in pigtails gleaming in the bright sunlight almost as red as the thick plastic frames of the glasses she was wearing.

"Now that's a fashion choice," Jackson grinned.

April pulled a face and swatted his shoulder. "Hey! I was five. They were my first glasses, and I just picked the most colourful pair in the store, okay?"

"I'm surprised you didn't go for a pink pair with hearts on them."

"If they'd had any I would have," she said, then glanced back down at the photo and sighed. "This was when my sisters started calling me Ducky. My mom told me not to worry, that I'd grow into a swan, but it only got worse when I got to high school."

She flipped several pages forward in the album, to one taken when she was fourteen or fifteen. This was a group shot with all her sisters, but the teenage April was clearly deeply uncomfortable, holding herself back and grimacing more than smiling. Braces glinted on her teeth, and although she had swapped the red glasses for a pair that were a less garish dark purple in colour, they were a smaller style that in hindsight she could see didn't really suit her face and did nothing to conceal the acne that had started to develop in patches on her cheeks.

"You can see why I didn't have dates lining up around the corner."

"No, actually, I can't. You look fine. So you had braces and a few zits," Jackson shrugged. "We all go through awkward phases."

April gave him a look. "Don't try that with me. I've seen your high school photos, Mr Star of the Baseball Team and Prom King. I bet you had girls falling all over you."

"I wouldn't say falling ..."

She snorted. "Uh-huh. Point is, you've always been gorgeous. You wouldn't have looked twice at me in high school."

"I would have!" Jackson protested, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. "I mean, I'm not saying I wasn't an idiot as a teenage boy but you were still you. All I would have to do is talk to you and I would have realised how special you are."

April hummed sceptically, but she smiled, clearly pleased with the compliment and snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"And your mom wasn't wrong, was she? You are a swan."

"I don't know. Sometimes - well, a lot of the time, actually, I still feel like Ducky."

Jackson frowned. "What you mean?"

"Oh, you know. I feel like this is what people see when they look at me still - the nerdy, insecure girl that no one really liked. Like I'm always trying to prove that I'm good enough, but all I ever do is really do is prove that I'm not."

Gently, Jackson brought his free hand up beneath her chin and tilted her head back so she could see his face as he replied, "You are good enough. You're more than good enough. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

"Yeah? How do you see me?"

"April, you're smart and fierce and kind, and you're the bravest person I know. And maybe you're a little neurotic at times," he said lightly, "but you're also a badass. You get up after every setback you have and you try again. You have no idea how much I admire that. You're an incredible surgeon and the most amazing mom and I don't know how the hell I got lucky enough to convince you to give me another chance but I'm grateful for it every single day."

She had flushed deeper with every word and looked up at him now with bright, shining eyes, the kind of look that usually meant a kiss - and a whole lot more - wasn't far behind. Heat rushed through him, prompting him to add in a rougher voice,

"You are also very, very sexy, and I would be more than happy to take you upstairs and prove that to you."

"Oh yeah?" April arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slow, teasing smile, and Jackson knew they weren't going to be looking at any more photos tonight. "I think I might just take you up on that."

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. "Then I guess I'd better get started."

#japril #jackson x april #jackson avery #april kepner #otp: I want the whole damn thing #my fic #thank you lovely!

[kanerallels]

Okay here are my many, many thoughts on Jedi Survivor. I'll keep the spoilers beneath the cut, so all who venture forward have been warned!

The way the game started out was so fun!! The stealth heist! The crew members Cal was teaming up with! Being on CORUSCANT of all places!

I really, really love the gameplay over all. It felt like they took the last game and just improved these tiny little details that I remember from the first one. Tiny things that would seem stupid but also made the game play that much smoother!

KOBOH MY BELOVED IT'S SO MASSIVE SO BEAUTIFUL SO GORGEOUS I LOVE IT THERE VERY VERY MUCH

Also I don't know who decided we should get Fast Travel but I would die for them

I'll probably make a separate post about this, but Cal introduced BD-1 to almost everyone he met-- ALMOST. Not Dagan, and not a couple other people that it was clear he didn't trust. And I for one LOVE that detail

Jedha was so fun other than the fact that I almost died every fifteen seconds

CERE!!!!!!!!! AND MASTER CORDOVA!!!!! WORKING TOGETHER!!!!! WITH THE HIDDEN PATH!!!!!

The Merrical was *chef's kiss* absolutely amazing. They are so April and Andy from Parks and Rec I love them

As a fan of the High Republic books, I thought the Nihil references, along with Dagan Gera and Santari Khri, were pretty neat! He was a fun villain to fight

I really really loved... pretty much all the Greez content? How happy he was to see Cal, and the fact that he had a room set aside for him, and the fact that he ventured back out into the fight just to keep Cal safe. I was mostly neutral on him during JFO, but Battle Scars made me really, really love him, and this game definitely built on that! Also I love that he named his saloon after his grandma (I think?)

Rayvis was an interesting villain! I liked him a lot, especially the final battle with him. They did a good job developing his character

Speaking of villains... I do be feeling some emotions about Cal's fight with Masana Tide. I'm a redemption arc girlie at heart, what can I say? But I see why they did what they did

RICK THE DOOR TECHNICIAN MY BELOVED

THE PONCHO!!!!!!!! THERE WAS A PONCHO!!!!!! I GOT TO WEAR MY BOSS BATTLE OUTFIT TO THE FINAL FIGHT!!!!! IT WAS AMAZING

That one scene where the whole crew was at the campfire together and for like five minutes it felt like everything was going to be okay warmed my heart so much

Yeah I don't remember what happened after that (obvious lie)

I like the new open world features, and the bounties you get to hunt, and the customization and stuff! And those Force tear things are terrifying, but I've completed two of them, and plan to do more as time goes on!

Kriff. Okay I gotta talk about the Horrors at some point. Thanks to my lack of self control, I'd seen some spoilers and knew that Bode was gonna betray us. I didn't know about Cordova (sad) and I didn't know about Bode's secret (SO MUCH SHOCK THAT WAS AN AMAZING PLOT TWIST)

I will say, Cere's final battle against Vader was SO FREAKING COOL IT WAS AWESOME PLAYING AS HER

I also love the fact she set Vader on fire. It's ironic

AULSDKFJLSDKJFLSDKJFLSDKJF AND HER LAST WORDS REALLY JUST SHOT ME IN THE CHEST I'M FINE OKAY I'M FINE (more lies)

Uhhh the Tanalorr plot line was pretty cool! I like the idea of there being somewhere safe from the Empire, to prevent Cal from being killed for plot convinience

Bode's betrayal... yeah I'm not gonna talk about that. I'm not ready, and honestly I have an objectively awful take on the whole situation that no one will like

OKAY THE SCENE WHERE BD-1 REUNITED WITH CAL AFTER HE CHASED AFTER BODE AND JUST LAUNCHED HIMSELF INTO CAL'S ARMS I DON'T THINK ENOUGH OF YOU GUYS KNOW THAT I WOULD DIE FOR THIS DROID

The part where BD-1 was going to scan the trontoshell, and Cal called him BD and THEN BD-1 like he was his mom, full naming him into safety. I love it so much

OH ALSO BD AND KATA'S DYNAMIC IS SO HECKING CUTE

(can you tell I love BD-1?)

I also really, really loved Merrin's entrance. Ten out of ten, the only thing I would change is that Cal should have immediately proposed

Oh! And Merrin and Kata's relationship is so fun I really really like it

Ummm yeah I think I've addressed everything there is to talk about (the most obvious lie yet) so yeah! The brainrot is still strong with me so I might end up posting some screenshots and more thoughts later on!

#jedi survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #greez dritus #bode akuna #cere junda #eno cordova #kata akuna #dagan gera #rick the door technician #(easily the best character in the game) #merrical #santari khri #(everyone thought she and dagan were a thing right? or was it just me?)

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR PREVIEW.

HIDDEN TRACK.

PART IV OF ON TOUR SERIES.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you.

Preview under the cut!

...

The entire arena is filled with ice hockey enthusiasts and fans of both teams playing today's match. Felix's so little knowledge of ice hockey holds him back from enjoying it.

You sense that he's not thrilled to be here, you lightly nudge his shoulder, "Is it boring?"

"No," he answers a little too fast.

You laugh because you know he lied to be nice, "we cheer when everyone cheers," you tell.

And one of the players just sent the hockey puck into the goalpost.

Everyone shot up from their seats, loudly cheering and whistling, shouting encouraging words and whatnot.

You follow suit and pull Felix to stand, cheering for whoever made the goal. Once the cheers died down, the two of you sit back down.

"See? It's not that boring," you tell him.

That's what he likes about you, you always know how to make him feel comfortable around you. Lou returns carrying drinks and snacks in his hands.

You take it from him and share it around, handing it to Felix while putting some on your lap.

"The score?" Lou asks.

You don't answer and simply point to the jumbotron. Felix silently chuckles at how you nonchalantly responded to Lou.

Felix takes a sip of his drink and he's sure as hell there's alcohol in it, he feels it burning his throat.

"What is it?"

"Cola," Lou replies.

He glares at him, "And?"

"Whisky."

Everyone knows he's bad with alcohol and getting drunk at a sports match wouldn't make a good look on him. So far, no one recognized him, thanks to the hat he pulls so low to hide his face but who knows?

"Oh, come on! I'm sure Lou only put a few drops in it," you assure him with a gentle bump to Lou's shoulder.

"Right, Lou?"

"Yeah, sure," Lou confirms but his half-hearted answer is not quite convincing.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, "We're here to have fun, right?"

Well, yeah, that's why he's here, to have fun with you and if that's what it takes then a little alcohol wouldn't be a problem. The three of you clinked your plastic cups together to finally take a sip.

Felix can feel that he begins to loosen up with every sip of drink he took, he's having fun, he laughs and cheers even though he has no idea which team he should be rooting for.

The first period has ended and to fill the fifteen minutes of break before the second period starts, the jumbotron searches for couples in the crowd for kiss cam.

"Here!" You feed him fries dipped in ketchup while also shoving some into your mouth.

Lou is also snacking on a hotdog that he hasn't had the chance to eat as he was so invested in watching the match. He is the only one having a ball watching it.

"Stay still," you order him and Felix complies without a word.

He sees as you take a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, "you have ketchup," you inform.

The crowd cheers as the couple on the jumbotron kisses and the camera pans to find a new couple. He can't believe it at first but then he sees himself and you in a heart-shaped frame on the jumbotron.

You get horrified to see yourself on the big screen as well, nonplussed.

As it takes the two of you long enough to kiss, the crowd starts to endlessly chanting "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" 

It seems that they won't stop until the two of you kiss, Felix turns to see you, covering your face with your hand, shyly laughing.

And you know that the camera won't move on unless they get what everyone wants.

"Should we do it?" You shyly ask him.

Felix doesn't know what to answer, sure he wants to get it over with but at the same time, he doesn't want to pressure you to do something.

You laugh again before speaking, "Well, I either have to kiss you or Lou."

You leer at Lou for a second then immediately change your mind, "but there's no way I kiss Lou."

Felix glances at Lou, who grins with a dollop of mustard on his upper lip.

"But you're welcomed to kiss Lou," you jokingly say.

It seems like the only logical thing to do, kissing you and getting it over with. Felix doesn't like showing affection in public but he would take this as another first he did with you.

Wait, it's his first kiss with you.

Now that it crosses his mind, he feels burdened by it.

You put your hand on his neck and make him face it, "Let's show them how to do it!"

It's not the first time for him to kiss someone but he doesn't remember the part where his heart pounding so hard. He's only going to kiss you, a friend but why does it feel like his heart is about to jump out of his chest?

Felix doesn't know who leans in first, you or him, the next thing he knows is that heavenly feeling he gets as both of your lips collide in a kiss.

He feels your sweet, alcohol-tinted breath as you slightly part your lips open to take a low breath to continue kissing him.

Out of the blue, Felix gets curious about what happens if he allows himself to go for it so he opens his mouth and kisses you back.

Goodness! It feels wrong yet feels right and everything in between, mixes into one, a kiss that evokes something in him that he needs to figure out what is.

Then everything becomes background noise, it's nice and safe, and he wants to stay in this moment forever.

Unfortunately, Felix can't always get what he wants as you slowly pull away from the kiss with a smile.

As if someone has unplugged his ears, he can hear the deafening cheers, the response to the kiss he did with you, and finally, the camera moves on to the new couple.

"I think we did great, huh?" You calmly comment while picking up your drink from the floor.

"Y-yeah," he stutters.

Truthfully, Felix doesn't want to taste anything else, he wants the taste of your lips to linger until he figures out what it is he felt a moment ago.

But you raise your cup, asking for a toast with him and Felix reluctantly does the same, clashing it with yours to take a celebratory sip together, washing the taste of you away and swallowing it down.

Lou is definitely not putting just 'a few drops of alcohol' in his drink because why he feels so lightheaded as he walks back to the parking lot? And why would Lou call for a driver?

You take his hand, putting his arm around you to walk back together to the car, "are you okay, Felix?"

Okay? He feels more than okay. He feels good, he feels like a stupid teenager who doesn't have any responsibilities or chips on his shoulders. He feels easy, he feels incredibly happy that he believe he could fly.

"I'm grand," he finally answers.

On the car ride home, he sits with you in the backseat, heads resting against each other. You roll the window down, letting the summer night air into the car, making your hair fly in the air.

Lou plays something on the car stereo, a song that fits just right with what he feels.

"One smile... When can you give me, when can you give me."

Felix likes it when you smile.

"Touch me... Can you give me, oh can you give me."

he likes when you touch him because your touch gives him comfort.

"Love me... Come and give me, oh can you give me some."

He likes what you make him feel.

For him, you're a gift that carries on.

...

Full fic will be posted tomorrow!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #seospicy upcoming post #on tour series

[meatballlady]

The Hidden Prophecy Hypothesis

Here I am throwing an idea into the mix for s2 theorizing. Maybe it has been mentioned before, lmk if there are related metas out there already!

(disclaimer to not tag Neil!!! I don't want this to be shot down if it's a real possibility)

Here's my proposition:

At its core, the idea is that there is an information disparity between A/C and the audience, based on some source of knowledge that was not directly mentioned in S2 (i.e. hidden from the audience).

Between the events of S1 and S2, A/C came into contact with some sort of information about the future/H&H's strategy(ies)/etc. I'm calling this the hidden prophecy, but it could really be anything at all! A copy of Hell's plans from Shax, human prophecies, thorough reading of past assignments, etc.*

Immediate interpretation of the prophecy: In order for the apocalypse to happen, Aziraphale and Crowley need to kickstart it together.

Another main point of the prophecy: The trigger for the prophecy's events will be that someone (some angel?) will show up alone unexpectedly and ask them for help.

Also included are some vague details/triggers for the prophecy (which end up happening in S2 but aren't clear until after they happen)

Obviously A/C are not fans of this idea. They have an ongoing disagreement about the interpretation above, in fact.

Aziraphale believes there is a deeper interpretation of the prophecy if they research it enough. i.e. that they can work together without accidentally starting the apocalypse

Crowley believes they shouldn't fuck with it - that they should avoid each other entirely once the triggers start happening, to completely avoid any risk of accidentally kickstarting the apocalypse by working/being together.

* my partner believes this has to do with the second Agnes Nutter book. There are still many many ways to get a prophecy to someone even if the pages were burnt.

Cue season 2.

Open questions this could provide answers for:

Do the characters have more information than the audience and if so, why does it still look like they're flailing? They don't know "what's actually going on", they just have different expectations/starting points than the audience.

Why Crowley reacted very poorly to Gabriel showing up, and why he was so angry about leaving "so. this is how you want to do it." He thinks Aziraphale has ruined it already by asking for his help; also he doesn't want to stop talking to Aziraphale yet (he never will ofc)

Why Aziraphale got so pissy when Crowley said he wouldn't help with Gabriel "but if you won't, you won't." He thinks they can work together on the Gabriel thing, so obviously they don't need to avoid each other yet!

The weirdness about the apology dance: There was additional context to it, even though it was, ultimately, about the Jimbriel thing. Crowley was apologizing for being wrong about needing to not work together, not for not wanting to take care of Gabriel

Why they continue to look for clues outside of the Jimbriel question. They are looking for other prophecy triggers/apocalypse triggers.

Why Aziraphale acts with urgency around the ball. He is suspicious that Crowley was right and this is his last chance to host something for him.

Why the Metatron wanted Aziraphale (and possibly Crowley) back in Heaven

The final fifteen. They finally realize that Gabriel wasn't the trigger; the Metatron was. Aziraphale is still desperately insistent on working together, despite "realizing" Crowley may be right that they shouldn't. Crowley wants to work together but thinks they can't. They're both conflicted - about being right or not, about what the prophecy actually meant, and about how they will move forward. Maybe they both now agree that they shouldn't work together (which in s3 we will find out is actually incorrect), but they also both don't want to stop.

Loose ends from s1, such as the second prophecy book, the lack of mention of A/C addressing "the really big one" (i.e. because they already have and just don't bring it up)

Why "they aren't talking" now, per Neil - they think that it would move the apocalypse along to do so.

Why I like this idea (so far):

It doesn't retcon the final fifteen (only provides additional context)

(the additional angst potential for the final fifteen)

It is easy to explain to an audience

It is an "elegant" solution, i.e. doesn't ask more questions than it answers

Understanding of S2 would not be required to understand S3 - it just provides additional flavor to s2.

Open questions this doesn't seem to provide (direct/immediate, at least) answers for:

Maggie

The flashbacks

The 25 Lazarii miracle

The Halo

What Crowley was doing in Heaven

The discontinuities

#gos2 #good omens spoilers #good omens #gos3 #aziraphale #crowley #good omens theory #good omens meta #oops I pressed post instead of edit #oh well #it's mostly put together #you get the gist