#that’s what listening to domino feels like to me

[hqbaby]

twelve — i think you do

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, naoya’s annoying, reader and sukuna suck at feelings

You probably should’ve known the way this day was going to unfold with how it started. How did it start, you ask? Oh, with the most appropriate of things: A broken elevator.

It didn’t help that you also had absolutely no time for this shit. You had woken up late after spending most of the night tossing and turning and thinking, against your will, about the kiss you shared with your best friend just yesterday. The stupid kiss that came out of nowhere, the one you did not expect at all, the one you… actually liked.

But never mind that. You can think about that later. All you know is that the shitty domino effect of events has led you here, running into your class’ lecture hall—the class that you’re not quite sure you’re going to pass—only to sit at the very back, where there’s absolutely no way you’re not going to doze off.

“Oh, look at the odds.”

You turn to look at the guy sitting to your right. Fucking Naoya.

He’s looking at you with a wide smirk on his face and it’s taking everything in you to not just punch it off. 

You’ve always hated the guy. Ever since you and Satoru started dating and he introduced you to his housemates. You liked the other boys. Suguru, Yuji, and Yuta. They were all sweet and they were all kind to you, the initially nervous girlfriend, so much so that you all ended up becoming friends. You liked Satoru’s housemates. All of them except Naoya.

You don’t know what it is about him that you hate so much. Is it the snarky remarks? Is it the annoying way he keeps showing up in your classes? Is it the fact that he always had something to say about you and Satoru’s relationship? Is it the—

“I heard about you and Sukuna.”

You glare at him. Fuck Naoya.

“Unlike you, I’m actually here to learn,” you tell him quietly, unlike him and his disregard for the people around you. “So if you would just shut up, that would be great.”

You’re able to catch a few of the professor's words, quickly jotting them down on your tablet, before Naoya is leaning over onto your desk and reaching for a strand of your hair. You grab his hand before he touches it.

He just grins at you, all smug and absolutely shitty. “You’d be prettier if you smiled.”

“I will break your wrist.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You throw his hand away and shove him off of your desk. “Leave me alone, asshole.”

“You sure do have a thing for bad ideas,” he muses aloud, a few of the people in front of him glancing backwards because he is just talking so loud. “You’d think after Satoru, you’d learn your lesson. Guess athletes really aren’t that smart.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You know he’s just being himself, his obnoxious, mean self, but some part of you can’t help but believe his words. They’re stupid, you know that, but they manage to get to you.

They always do.

You look at him and purse your lips. “I just wanna get through this class,” you say. “I’ll listen to your bullshit after. Just let me actually pay attention so I don’t flunk out of here.”

His grin grows wider. “Okay,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “Who am I to stand in the way of your education?”

The lecture doesn’t last long enough. You usually find these classes to be too much, too tedious, too endless. But today it ends fast and it ends soon. You’ve barely just started to scribble down as much as you can before the professor ends the class, leaving you to pack your things as quickly as possible before Naoya can hold you to your promises.

You’re too slow and his arm wraps around your shoulder as he leads you out of the classroom, like the two of you are just old friends having an absolute blast.

“I have another class to get to,” you tell him, trying to shove his arm off of you. Much to your dismay, Naoya’s stronger than you are, and once he has his grip on you, he has no intentions of letting go.

“I’ll walk you to class,” he chirps. “I wanna hear more about your life. Mai mentioned you were injured at your last game.”

You sigh. There’s no way you can shake him off now. “A sprain,” you tell him. “I’m heading back to training tomorrow, so it’s all good now.”

“A sprain,” he muses before turning to look at you, all giddy and terrible. “You know, that’s how I found out about Sukuna. Mai mentioned that he was there when you went down, had a staredown with Satoru and all.”

“I bet you tormented that information out of her.”

“What does it matter?” Naoya hums. “Sukuna though. Interesting choice.”

You turn the corner and make a beeline for your classroom, forcing Naoya to drag himself along with you as he laughs.

“If I were your boyfriend, I’d be really offended by the fact that you don’t want to talk about me.”

You scoff, finally freeing yourself from his grasp as you lean on the door to your classroom. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not my boyfriend then.”

Your (fake) boyfriend in question is sitting in a classroom on the other side of campus. Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna isn’t all always out and about, drinking and fucking random girls. For a good chunk of his life, he actually finds it in himself to go to class and not totally suck at them.

Back in high school, he didn’t care so much about doing well in life. He was perfectly fine just coasting by. He’d wonder why that all stopped—replaced by an overwhelming urge to do something with himself, actually be a useful member of society—but he already knows. Somewhere between that one afternoon when he went up to the rooftop of his high school building and now, he’d found his life intrinsically intertwined with yours.

And he hasn’t found a way out since.

“Where are we studying?” he asks Choso, getting up as the professor bids farewell to the class and reminds them of the paper they have to turn in before finals.

The other boy shrugs. “We can go to Mahito’s.”

“That place is gross.” Sukuna wrinkles his nose. “You wanna check out the library? We can just do it there.”

Choso slings his bag over his shoulder. “Yeah, sure.”

They make their way out of the classroom and into the frenzied hall. Around them, students run over to classes, cry to their friends over a low grade, ask each other where they’re going out to drink later that night. It’s a familiar chaos, this chaos. One that Sukuna didn’t think he’d ever come to terms with before.

“I wanna go home,” he grumbled as you dragged him through the quad.

It was the first week of classes and Sukuna really did want to go home. His packed schedule and unlucky pick of horrifying professors was getting to him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to call it quits.

He’d tried college. Maybe it just wasn’t for him.

But you just tutted and pulled him along. “I have something to show you.”

Sukuna frowned. “I’ve seen everything there is to see. What is—”

“Look!”

The two of you stopped in front of the pond behind the science building. There was a crowd gathered around the water and, in the darkness of the growing night around you, a steady stream of lanterns began to float onto the surface of the pond.

In a matter of seconds, the whole thing was alight with lanterns.

You grabbed his hand and grinned at him. “Magical, right?”

He found himself staring at you as you happily pointed out a few lanterns shaped like lotuses. You were like a kid discovering life for the first time. 

He realized he wouldn’t get sick of the sight any time soon.

“Yeah. Pretty fucking magical.”

“You’re quiet.”

Sukuna snaps out of his daze. “What?”

He doesn’t know how, but he and Choso have already found their way to the library. They’re sitting at a table near that one fan that always conks out. There’s a couple basically making out on the table beside them, a boy with his head face down on the one in front, an empty spot behind them.

Choso furrows his brows. “You good, man?”

I don’t know. Am I?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sukuna says. He flips through the textbook in front of him and finds that he has no idea what he was supposed to be reading in the first place. “Actually, I think I’m pretty fucked.”

Choso looks at him now with amusement. It isn’t every day that he gets to watch Sukuna be more than a little out of it. Who is he to turn down a free show?

“What’s up?” he asks. “You jerk off a little too much?”

Sukuna scowls. “Fuck you. I’m studying without you.”

Choso laughs, prodding at the guy from across the table. “I’m just kidding,” he says. “What’s the matter though?”

Now, Sukuna’s been trying very hard to not think about your kiss. At first, he managed to brush it off as a little mishap. Maybe something you’ll both awkwardly address the next time you meet before things go back to normal. It’s not something he has to worry himself about.

But here he is.

Worrying.

“You promise not to tell anyone?” he says, and he immediately feels stupid. What is he? A middle schooler with a crush? As if.

But Choso indulges him anyway. “‘Course,” he says. He’s used to people coming up to him with stupid ideas. Granted, “people” usually just means his younger brother who has a buttload of stupid ideas, but he’s gotten pretty good at keeping them to himself. “So, what is it?”

“It’s a girl.”

“It always is.”

Sukuna groans. Why is this so fucking hard?

“I dunno. I just—I kinda kissed her.”

At that, Choso can’t help but snort. He can’t help it. He’s heard all about Sukuna’s conquests, he knows more than he wants to know about the nasty details of these encounters. So it tickles him pink to hear Sukuna worrying about a kiss.

“What’s so funny?” Sukuna demands. He shakes his head and looks away, all flustered and embarrassed. “Y’know what? Never mind. Let’s just study graphs or whatever.”

“It’s not funny,” Choso says, laughing, “it’s just I never expected you to be all worked up because of a kiss. That’s all.”

Your best friend sighs. “It wasn’t just a kiss,” he says. “It was who the kiss was with. We just… have a lot of history.”

“Ah, so it was a kiss with feelings. Now I get it.”

“It wasn’t feelings.” Sukuna makes a face, but he soon reverts back to his uncertainty. “Was it?”

Choso shrugs. “Well, I don’t know the girl and I don’t know your history,” he says simply. “But chances are, the reason why you feel so weird about it is because there are some feelings involved.”

Sukuna leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He considers the thought for a moment. He considers why he did it in the first place. He considers the way you looked, all confused in front of him. He considers the urge, the pull he felt that just dragged him forward. He considers how he kissed you, and considers how you kissed back.

He considers how soft your lips felt against his. He considers how you touched his shoulders, gripping onto him in that scared and nervous way of yours. He considers how he held you. He considers how sweet you tasted, your lip gloss sticking to his lips even after he pulled away.

“You think I have feelings?”

“Yeah,” Choso says, chuckling as he turns back to his book. “I think you do.”

notes. this chap is pretty tame, just a lil look into the aftermath of the kiss 😌 i think this is gonna be chillest chap for a while though 🫣 there are also a few hints of what’s to come if you squint real hard

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

[vcrnons]

i am, first and foremost, a domino supremacist

#IT FEELS. SO GOOD. IN MY BRAIN. #IT FEELS SO GOOD IN MY BRAIN. #it’s better than a scratch #like it is so deeply better than just a brain itch this shit just— #it’s like that first stretch first thing in the morning when all your muscles are tight from being in the foetal position for 8 hours #and you stretch and go YEEEOOWWWWW #that’s what listening to domino feels like to me #it is like pure joy #(spoiler there’s a little bit of bias at play because the way Vernon says ‘domino’ right before the final chorus OOF) #my arms are open as are my legs and my mouth for you MY MAN. #fucking hell #sorry. I just. I needed to say this

[revvnant]

i sit and stew on a post so potent about the victim blaming that goes on in wider fandom headcanons about these characters that goes unnoticed because it's never overt or even intentional and i eat my hands because it's the jumpscare games for kids with their parents' credit cards.

#oh boy six a.m.! ( ooc ) #|| the shortest form of the post is that. #|| people would rather will be insane and believe he's doing his best for those kids. #|| than entertain the possibility that he was an angry man like so many angry men. #|| and when you tip that domino. it does not stop falling. #|| if he loved and supported his kids why did michael act out that way? was it just his fault? #|| and i say this as someone who also takes mike to task for the bullying and fratricide but like. #|| to paint a picture of the perfect afton house. to say those three kids were consistently loved and treated well. #|| is to say what happened to them was pure happenstance. #|| which leaves a sour taste in my mouth and makes me kinda nauseous. #|| better that michael is just a bully and elizabeth was beloved and what happened to her was an accident. #|| and not a result of neglect and endangerment. #|| it feels like rolling a rock uphill to go into the tags every time and see how william was a loving parent. #|| and it also denies the reality that. your parent can love you and abuse you. it happens so often. #|| sometimes a parent will think they're doing what's best for you and they'll hold you dear in their heart. #|| and the physical manifestation of that love is nevertheless deeply harmful. #|| if will must be out of touch with reality why isn't it the idea that he did nothing wrong with his kids when that isn't at all true. #|| three dead kids all at his facilities but it's because michael was a bully elizabeth didn't listen and ennard just Did That. #|| not because evan had his party at a place he hated. or william brought his daughter to the premiere of his child killing machine. #|| gwuhhhh bluhhh GEHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAAAAAA. #negativity ///

[dr-felitas]

wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.” 

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa. 

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts. 

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.) 

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin. 

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases. 

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it. 

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is. 

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be. 

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is. 

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself. 

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose. 

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. 

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again. 

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.  

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you. 

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#toorurs #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #aventurine imgines #aventurine headcanons #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #hsr headcanons

[biteofcherry]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Steve + “Are you trying to hide from me?”

Thank you for sending the Hoe Fairy my way, through all the trials and dangers of time zones 😆💖

Grateful for it, I wrote something slightly longer than a drabble? Oops.

I'm creating a new dark-ish universe here, so brace yourselves.

New World Order

soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: After the snap and the breaking of the Avengers the world has turned into a darker place than it already was. Being under Steve Rogers protection should be your beacon of light, right? So why does it sometimes feel as if you're caught in a sticky web?

warnings: semi dystopian universe; soft dark Steve Rogers; manipulation; sprinkle of gaslighting; economical/situational power imbalance; dub-con; smidge of breeding kink; sex (p in v);

word count: 3k

Main Masterlist

A small creak startled you. Your body tensed and jerked, the jars in your arms almost falling to the floor. You held your breath, tightening your hold on the precious cargo.

The sound came from the other room, the one anyone from the compound could’ve walked into, so it shouldn’t scare you. Not when you made sure to cover any tracks leading to this special, secret unit, which you’ve discovered a few days ago. 

Slowly, careful not to make any sound that might alert whoever was roaming out there, you put the jars down on the shelf. One by one. Gently. You kept your breath shallow as you did, keeping your movements to the minimal. Then you stayed still, counting down seconds in your head and listening for any sounds from outside. 

As one minute passed into another, then another, until it was seven minutes, then eight, you began to relax slightly. 

No further sounds, steps, nor voices came. You assumed they were gone, whoever it’s been. 

With a little huff of breath, you turned around. The nose of your boot bumped into the box of supplies you sneaked inside. It made little to no noise, but it was enough for the domino to fall down completely.

Something clanked on the other side of the wall. Then the hidden passage in the wall opened. 

Bright daylight filtered through and the broad, dark silhouette filled nearly the entirety of the doorway. 

You lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of light, letting out a small squeak as you curled inwardly. It took you a mere second to recognize who caught you and while your heart eased at the realisation, there was still a part of you that feared the outcome.

“I was wondering what kind of mouse has been hiding in the walls,” came his soft, deep voice. “Turns out it’s my own little scrapper.” 

Captain Rogers walked in. Despite wearing heavy boots he still managed to move quietly. 

The wall closed automatically after him, leaving the two of you in a small room with light fixtures casting pleasant, but artificial glow from the ceiling. 

“Are you trying to hide from me?” His lips curled in a lopsided smile, but the way he slightly tilted his head made you aware that he wouldn’t like it, if you said yes. 

“Of course not,” you let out a nervous laugh, gripping the edge of the counter behind you. 

“Not from you, Steve.” Nervousness still buzzed inside you, spiking as he neared closer and closer. 

Steve Rogers, Captain America, could be a scary motherfucker, if he wanted to. Usually, however, it was reserved for anyone trying to harm people he protected. Or if his subordinates broke his rules in any way. 

He may not be the golden boy you remembered from the very few, rare press conferences and pap photos from a decade before. Too much has happened, since he was the poster of glorified values the government tried to sell. 

First, they stripped him of the crystal areola they put themselves on him. Named him a fugitive and a traitor, for wanting to protect his best friend and fight for justice. 

His other colleagues have turned away from him, leading to breaking of the Avengers formation, which was supposed to protect the people.

Then, when the ultimate threat appeared, the remaining politicians blamed Steve and the other heroes for being unable to defeat Thanos. Tony Stark never returned. So many others have dispersed into dust. For a few years - as the world around you spiralled into dystopian nightmare - phantom governments have been using Captain America and other Avengers as the arguments for why so many things were failing.

Living became hard. Well, even harder than it used to be. People turned jaded and distrustful, so very few still tried to show each other support. Unable to count on governmental help, people have started forming their own little groups. Little communities that took care of each other, but were very wary of anyone else. 

You met Steve when you shyly walked into one of the support groups he was leading. You’ve seen posters inviting people to the meetings, but for quite a long time you stayed away from them, because Captain America or not, these groups always meant selling your soul in some way. 

Steve lured you in with his patience and soft voice, but was firm in pointing out that if you’d like to take some of the provisions back home, or needed aid, you had to do some labour in return. 

You weren’t opposed to that, but you were wary. Still, you agreed. 

Each task seemed more and more important, or that’s what you told yourself, because with each you’ve somehow gotten to work closer and closer to the Captain himself. 

You worked dutifully, which was something Steve didn’t omit to praise you for on a few occasions. Which perhaps was the reason why he assigned you to a team that so often worked closely with him. 

As much as it filled your chest with warmth, your gut tightened each time he got a little closer.

And he always got closer. 

You always sensed his gaze on you. Felt your heart jumping whenever he grazed his fingers along your arm, in a seemingly innocent, sweet gesture. But there was something about his attention, about Steve himself, that made you feel uneasy.

He was charismatic, but also less lenient. 

Caring, but didn’t give second chances. 

Patient, but often merciless in his decisions. 

He was still Captain America, but bitter and darker. Worn-out and dirty, like his suit, with the trace of a star that used to shine hope to those who saw it. Now that faith trailed with darkness. 

When Steve approached you one evening, as your team was scavenging the territory the Captain and his Avengers have liberated from under the influence of bloodthirsty gangs, you felt that quickened pulse and whispers of self-preservation instinct telling you to be wary.

He said that he noticed you watching him. Which rendered you speechless for a moment. If anything, you always caught him looking your way. 

Did he really think you were the one checking him out? Was it why your gazes met every time?

You stuttered with your response, not quite knowing how to explain yourself. Steve offered you that disarming, comforting smile. He touched your hand. Slipped his fingers between yours, ever so slowly rubbing the pad of his index finger between two of yours. 

Such a small, meaningless gesture, but something about it had your cunt clenching in response, as if he was insinuating he wanted to rub you somewhere else. 

Before you managed to explain the situation, Steve turned the tables on you once again. He leaned in and confessed that he missed intimate touch, as well. That it was understandable and he felt honoured you would give him your attention.

Then he simply walked away, joining Natasha to make further decisions regarding the operation; leaving you dizzy with confusion and conflicting emotions. 

Was he right? Were you subconsciously seeking out his attention? Was your sense of unease in his proximity provoked by your attraction to him?

Because Steve Rogers was a very handsome man. From the soft strands of hair he had grown a little longer, to the way his broad chest tapered into narrow hips and possibly the sexiest ass you’ve ever seen. 

From that moment, the Captain often approached you, smiled at you, and touched you however briefly. The pounding of your heart increased each time, your thoughts still clouded. 

When he caressed your cheek one time, while having just returned all dirtied and splattered with blood from a mission abroad, your breath stuttered. He asked you to help him out with patching some bruises and you didn’t find the strength in you to deny a request from a wounded man. Captain America at that. 

He took you to his quarters. At Steve’s command, the AI closed the door after you. Your fingers trembled as Steve guided you how to unzip and take off his suit (since his shoulder throbbed so hard, he seemingly couldn’t do it himself). 

Steve’s fair skin was indeed marred with bruises and a few cuts, which you cleaned and patched. In response to your breathless “I better leave” after you were done, Steve slid his big hands onto your hips and softly asked you to stay. 

Perhaps it’s been too long since you kissed anyone. Or maybe his grip on you tightened enough for the fear of repercussions freezing you in place. 

With a tiny whimper, you gave in to his demanding lips and wandering hands. Despite your brain screaming at you to run away, your heart rate accelerated with pleasure, quickly drowning out the fear.

Steve had you sinking down on his thick cock right there, while he still sat in the chair and his suit was barely pushed past his hips. He groaned praises at how good you felt; how hot it was to feel your tight cunt stretching around him; how sexy you sounded struggling to take it all.

Even with some of your brain cells fighting against it, your whole body surrendered to Steve and the pleasure he drew out of you over and over again. 

Maybe he was right all along and you were starved for intimate contact. 

Maybe you were choosing to let him take you, so he wouldn’t hurt you or your family in any way. 

Later, as you laid in Steve’s arms, you debated with yourself how good it felt to be held and protected, and that maybe it was worth following Steve’s subtle commands. 

He took you again in the morning. On your side, sliding into your sore pusy from behind. When you hissed that it hurt, Steve slowed down, but didn’t stop. He distracted you by arousing other parts of your body - rolling and pinching your nipples, sliding his fingers between your lips and fucking your moth with them, using his wet digits to rub your clit. 

Both of you returned to your duties afterwards, but in the evening Steve simply wrapped an arm around you and greeted you with a kiss on your temple. Then guided you back to his quarters.

He talked to you about everything, asked about your past, as well simply about your day. 

But not once did he ask, if you wanted to have sex with him. 

As the days passed, the less brave and determined you were to reject him. Especially not after Steve started coming over to your quarters, to meet your parents and play this whole thing, as if you really were a couple.

So if he was this sweet and supportive, why did you still fear displeasing him in any way? 

“I mean I’m not hiding at all.” Your speech quickened slightly, as you explained your actions. “I may have hoped no one would find this spot that quickly. I would tell you about it, I was going to. But first I needed to, um, I wanted to-”

“Easy, honey.” Steve cupped your cheek.

He ran his thumb along your lip, cooing at you softly. 

He didn’t look angry, nor suspicious. Which lessened your worries. 

“So you found one of Tony’s panic rooms.” Steve took a quick look around. “Not many people know about their existence. Not many can find them.”

“It was actually an accident,” you laughed at that, remembering how you stumbled when changing light bulbs in a weird fixture in the main lounge room and instead of breaking the mirror on the wall the pressure of your fall activated sensor in the wall, opening the passage to this room. 

You told Steve the story, watching mirth form crinkles around his eyes. He kissed your forehead softly, before pulling away. Not enough to leave much space between your bodies. 

“And why are you storing provisions here?” He glanced at the jars and cans you stacked on the few shelves. 

“Just in case. We have a storage and everything is rationed generously, but-” your gaze dropped as you mumbled- “somemayhavebeenstolen.”

“What was that?” Steve’s tone chilled and you felt the hair on your nape standing to attention. 

With two fingers, he tilted your chin up. Blue eyes bore into yours, a Captain’s command in them snapped you into obedience without an order falling from his lips. 

“I think I’ve noticed someone sneaking out some portions. Often.” You admitted. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t suffer much loss, in case that person continued to steal.”

“Why haven’t you reported it?” Steve frowned, his hold on your chin turning into an unpleasant pinch. 

“Because the person I should report to first, is the one who takes it.” You also tried to convince yourself that maybe Walker simply was giving it away to someone in need. 

“You could’ve told me.” Steve pointed out, his frown deepening in displeasure. 

“But you always talk about the importance of chain of command,” you blurted out.

Which actually surprised Steve. His eyebrows arched up and then his disapproval was shifting into amused satisfaction once again.

“You’re so dutiful, honey.” Steve’s grin made you gulp nervously. 

His gaze slowly trailed down. When it returned to your face there was a possessive glint in the blue irises. A hot jolt stroke down your spine, pooling in your lower belly with heat in preparation for what was to come.

Because even if your lips wanted to part on a pitiful No, you knew Steve would take anyway. And he’d make sure your body was on board with his desires. 

“Why don’t you continue your impeccable service for your Captain, huh?” Steve dragged the zipper of your jacket down. 

It was butter soft brown leather; once belonging to Steve, but since it was too big on you, he graciously encouraged you to cut and sew it, so it fit you better. 

Steve parted the sides of the jacket, exposing your chest. One move was enough to yank down the stretchy top you had underneath. Your breasts spilled out and you clenched your fingers on the edge of the counter, forcing yourself not to cover yourself, even though you felt shy. 

Steve cupped your breasts with his hands; squeezed them and kneaded gently. The coarse fabric of his fingerless gloves provided additional sensation. He rolled one nipple under his thumb; pinched the other. His mouth swallowed each little moan of yours. 

He drew out a whine out of you as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, at the same time unzipping your jeans. Steve knelt down to take off one of your shoes and pull your leg free from the pant leg. Enough to have you spread for him as wide as he wanted. 

“Umm-” you swallowed hard as Steve stretched to his full height. 

He was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. Sometimes, when he had you in his arms, it truly made you feel safe. Other times it scared you; made you quickly comply. 

Steve picked you up so easily, sitting you on the narrow counter and standing between your legs. 

“I don’t have any more pills,” you revealed. “Contraceptives, I mean. Bruce said it will take a few weeks for the production to be finished, after that one ingredient turned out to be spoiled.”

Steve met your eyes. He listened to what you were saying, nodding his head intently as you spoke, but still unzipped his suit and freed his cock. 

You couldn’t help it, your gaze flicked down. Seeing it almost daily didn’t diminish the awe of the cock a primal part of your brain declared perfect. Your pussy clenched, growing wetter in preparation for what was inevitable. 

Steve’s hand closed around his girth and he gave a few pumps before guiding the angry-red tip into your hole. 

He slid inside with a groan. Your own choked cry responding. 

When he met slight resistance due to your position, Steve hooked his arms beneath your knees and pulled your legs upwards. Your ass tilted and your upper body angled backwards. It allowed him to sink fully in, until you felt that unpleasant pressure against your cervix and his balls met your buttocks. 

Then, as he bottomed out in your unprotected pussy, Steve regarded your words.

“Slight inconvenience. But we’re skilled in adjusting to new situations and challenges.” He rested his forehead against yours; his voice growing more raspy and breathless. “If fate wants us to have a child, then we will rise to that blessing as well.” 

He rocked his hips into you, his pelvis grazing your clit. You squeaked, bracing your hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

“Fuck, honey.” Steve withdrew a few inches then slowly thrust back in. “Your sweet cunt is so tight and wet for me.” 

It was tight, because he hadn’t prepared you thoroughly - sometimes it was a blessing, because there were other times when Steve was so focused on making you soaked that he turned you into an overstimulated mess. 

Also because his dick was so fucking thick. 

“My perfect pussy. Isn’t it?” Each stroke was a purposeful, unrushed torment, so that you felt those inches penetrating you. Owning you. 

“Y-yes, Steve. It’s yours,” you mewled when he poked your cervix again. 

“It was made to be filled, honey.” Steve’s pace started increasing. “Its purpose is to take my cock and milk every last drop of my cum, until your womb swells with it.”

There were protesting voices in your head, demanding that you shake your head no and that you tell him you didn’t want to get pregnant. But they never made it past the barrier of voices supplying that you always dreamed of having a family and that Steve would take good care of you. 

Even if the objections somehow made it onto your tongue, the moans and cries Steve was eliciting with each thrust and filthy word deformed them into agreement. 

“That’s it, honey. Taking your Captain so well. Going to take all my cum and thank me for it.”

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers imagine #soft dark!Steve Rogers #soft dark!Steve Rogers x reader #soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader #dark avengers #Siri #stargazingfangirl18

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Chris dating a black girl ✯

-he would be so lost but in love

-he gets whiplash with how much you change your hair (different colored wigs, different braids, etc)

-“wasn’t your hair just blue yesterday?”

-would try and run his finger through your hair and would be scared when his hand gets stuck

-he tries to put on all your bonnets

-“why the fuck do you have so many?” “Mind the business that minds you Christoper”

-LOVES THE GLOSSED LIPS (he loves the brown lipliner combo🤭)

-buys you lipgloss from a store but gets confused when you tell him it’s the wrong one.

-“it’s lipgloss how is it wrong?”

-introducing the beauty supply✨

-he’s amazed by everything in the store and keeps trying to touch everything

-“stop touchin! My momma would have popped you by now!”

-tries to convince you to let him get a durag

-“chris baby, let’s not have you get canceled.”

-gets scared by the mannequins

-he gets stuck reading all the perfume oil names (his favorite is ‘lick me all over’)

-“you lost baby?”

-he gets scared when a auntie speaks to him but he feels warm at the pet name.

-“no?”

-stays by your side for the rest of the trip

-blushes when the aunties hype him up for paying for all your stuff.

-if you’re close with your fam, he loves going over.

-“is your mom making her peach cobbler!?”

-plays fornite with your brothers

-listens to your sister complain about their boyfriends

-if you’re not close with your fam (like me) he will listen to you complain.

-“my auntie need her shit rocked for real! I’m tired of her ass!”

-“that’s why her kids got taken. She can’t keep a man and she can’t keep her kids!” Chris chokes on his drink.

-his first cookout he was mad confused when your mom (or whoever) told him to only bring the paper plates.

-“I was going to bring cookies!”

-“bring the paper plates, ion have time to back up your cookies Chris.”

-almost cries when he doesn’t see Pepsi in the cooler and sees RC.

-looks at you aunt/grandma crazy when they demand you to make his plate first.

-“look at him! He don’t have no meat on his bones! You be starving him y/n!?” “Ion even live with him!” “A damn shame, come on baby let’s get you a plate!”

-he fucks up the food! He had three plates

-“he fuckin that shit UP!” Your cousins try to clown him.

-nervously laughs and nods along to your uncles talking about getting girls and dominos (old head shit)

-your cousin offer him to take a walk with them and he says yes but then you gotta snatch him up and tell him what that means.

-he definitely embarrasses you trying to dance.

-“I told you to only get up to the cha cha slide!”

-“I wanted to dance!”

- takes home four plates

Lemme know if yall want more of these!!!

TAG LIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @that-general-simp @iloveurgf

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl

[finelinevogue]

you’re okay

summary - you’re anxious but harry will always be there

a/n: im so nervous about hslot tomorrow so i thought i’d write this <333

“There he is!”

An encore of cheers for Harry fill the room as he runs in all sweaty, taking a short ten minute break before his encore.

His all black outfit is something to make you melt from how hot he is. You don’t even think he actually understands how gorgeous he looks right now. His hair is disheveled from running around on stage and his clothes are sticky with sweat.

You want to go up to him and give him a hug and a kiss for the show so far, but your anxiety roots you to the sofa.

You don’t even think you have anything to really be anxious for, but sometimes your nerves and shakes come over you when you least expect them. Your chest feels like it’s hollowing and your stomach feels like it’s swimming with butterflies. They’re both horrible feelings and you can’t seem to stop them. The shake in your hands in your only tell, to other people, as well as your bouncing knee.

Harry hugs a couple of people and he’s passed a water bottle by Brad. He guzzles it down quick and thanks him afterwards.

He then spots you, sitting in the plush velvet couch that he brings on tour with him. A sofa you both picked out together and Harry can’t be apart from.

Harry is quick to crouch down in front of you, putting a ring-filled hand on your knee to control the nervous tremors.

“Baby, what’s got you all anxious?” He asks softly, trying to keep his volume low so people don’t start to listen in.

“I don’t know.” You say, teary eyed slightly. “No. I’m fine, i’m fine.” You shake your head defiantly, convincing yourself more than Harry.

“It would be okay if you weren’t fine, you know?”

You nod your head and notice your foot now bobbing away because your knee couldn’t.

Harry keeps his focus on you. He doesn’t deter for anyone or anything.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You begun shaking your head instead and look down at where your fingers are fiddling with each other. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to think of ways to keep your tears back.

“I don’t need an apology, baby. If you need to apologise to anyone, it’s yourself, because you should be kinder to yourself.”

He moves in a little further towards you, using another hand to cup over your smaller ones. He holds onto you tight, grounding you.

“Sorry.” You barely whisper.

“I have to give fifteen more minutes of myself to all those people out there and then i’m completely yours for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Completely?” You look at him with hopeful eyes.

Normally Harry is busy whisked away to complete various business tasks or music recordings after his shows, but his words carry hope that it’s just you and him tonight.

“Absolutely. We can do whatever you want. The Harry Potter movies are on Netflix now, we could do a marathon? Or just watch ‘Goblet of Fire’? I won’t even get jealous when you fawn over Cedric.” He giggles and you can’t help but give a small laugh back.

You take the time to notice your hands have stopped twitching now, thanks to his, and your leg bounces are a lot calmer.

“Can we get a Dominoes takeaway too?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to call it in now, so it’ll be ready for us at 10:30, okay?” He squeezes your hands for reassurance. “Just promise me you’ll be okay for another 15 minutes. I’ll be as quick as possible.”

“I promise. I feel better now anyway.” You smile genuinely.

“Good.” He leans over to kiss your hands softly.

“H? We need you back now.” A member of the crew calls for him across the room.

“Go be brilliant.” You tell him.

“Go be brave.” He replies.

He stands up and leans over to kiss you, promising a proper kiss when he returns. For now you just enjoy a little kiss with your sweaty boyfriend.

He kisses the top of your head before turning to leave the room, screaming as he leaves; “I love you Y/N!”

All because of Harry does your anxiety slowly disappear and the warmth spreads over your heart once more.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles love on tour #love on tour #love in tour edinburgh

[sarahisslytherin]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART IV)

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: fourth and final part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II, PART III i've had such a blast writing this series, thank you all for your support and lovely words! now pull up the vitamin string quartet version of "love story" and enjoy!

Your heel dug into the gravel of the Bridgertons’ drive as you exited the carriage with grace. You gently raised your gown just centimeters off the ground as you walked towards the house, your mother and father following a fair distance behind you. You hadn’t stepped inside yet but your heart was already in your throat. You admired the front garden as you stepped up the marble stairs. Roses clung to the fences and wrapped themselves around the banisters decoratively. You took a deep breath. No matter what happens tonight, you told yourself, you will be alright.

The halls were lined with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses of varying family names, old as the land itself. The sound of a string quartet wafted through the air, indiscernible over the chatter of civil conversation. You followed the dulcet tones, seamlessly weaving your way through the home you had come to know so well. You turned a corner and were met with an array of couples mid-dance, bodies moving with such effortless grace it was a pleasure to just stand by and watch from the sidelines. You surveyed the room, inspecting each man with almost analytical precision. One of them was your mystery man.

“There you are.” sighed Benedict as he appeared at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You chanced a look at him, and you wished you hadn’t. He was gorgeous; his hair shone beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his eyes shimmered like moonlight bouncing off water. Mostly it was his smile (that shy, boyish smile) that set off a chain of dominoes within you, resulting in a nervous pang in your stomach. 

“Have you?” you asked, keeping your response brief so as to mask the waver in your voice.

“Indeed I have.” he smirked, but his good humor quickly faded as his face took on a more solemn look. “I wish to apologize for the things I said when I saw you last. I was a fool, I still am.”

“Ben-” you began to protest, but were quickly cut off.

“No, really!” He went on, his cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You were right in every respect. And marriage doesn’t have to be the way I described. You know I have an inclination for hyperbole. Anyway, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear-”

“Benedict.” you said sternly. “You’re rambling.” You took his now trembling gloved hands in your own and met his gaze. 

“I just wish you could forgive me.” he whispered for only you to hear.

“My dear Benedict.” you sighed, a sweet smile curling at the corner of your lips. “I forgave you the minute I left. I hate to admit this to you, but you should know I never have been able to stay cross with you for too long.” Now it was he who smiled, a beam so bright it alone could have lit up the ballroom. 

“Well, then.” Benedict began. “There’s no use of a lovely lady coming to a ball just to stand around in corners, is there?” And with that, he gently led you onto the dance floor.

You fell into a rhythm that came surprisingly easy to you, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. The strings filled the room with jovial, romantic music, lifting the spirits of anyone who would listen. It was impossible not to dance, not to feel as if you were floating. Your hand fit in Benedict’s like they were made for the sole purpose of intertwining. And when your eyes met, sparks flew, visible to no one but the two of you. 

To anyone else, it might seem that the two of you were in love. What a silly thought. Though, you couldn’t help but feel that such an assumption might have some truth to it. You most definitely behaved in the childish, playful way lovers do. You confided in him without a shadow of a doubt. And he did always manage to send a certain prickle of excitement down your spine, not unlike the spark of an electric current. Good God! 

You were in love with Benedict Bridgerton.

The song came to an end, and you curtsied before Benedict, while he bowed. You were sure he was about to request another dance but you were left wondering when Daphne tugged on your sleeve. “Where have you been?” she squealed delightedly. “Come, mingle!” You laughed, mostly from the nerves, as you shot Benedict one last glance over the shoulder before being whisked away.

You had made decent conversation and exchanged pleasantries with members of the ton for long enough. You were beginning to grow restless, your foot tapping mindlessly against the hard floor. You needed to find Benedict. You excused yourself sheepishly, but you had no time to give that any thought. You simply turned on your heel and began scouring through every room in search of Benedict.

You checked the parlor, the staircase, even the room where Benedict could usually be found painting or writing. He was nowhere to be found. Just when you were on the verge of abandoning hope, you thought to look in one last place.

The intoxicating scent of roses and lilacs overcame your senses as you stepped out into the garden. The lights from within the house bled out onto the patio, casting everything and everyone in it in a golden hue. There he stood, hands clasping each other tightly behind his back, standing straight as a pencil. He seemed to be deep in thought, since he was startled at your timid call. “Benedict?” He turned, his brows furrowed. “Tell me, dear.”

“I need to tell you something.” you began. “I have a bit of confession to-

“So do I.” he said, his eyes lowering to the neatly kept grass. “And I think I should go first.”

“What would make you think th-”

“It’s me!” he blurted out, not able to contain himself a second longer. “It’s always been me! Those letters, your admirer. Surely you must have known, somewhere deep in your soul, that it has always been me. Never before have I felt this way for anyone, my dear. Every moment I spend in your presence, it gives me such immense joy that I cannot help but carry it with me wherever I go. If you would have me, Lord, if you would have me- I should be the happiest man who ever lived, I swear it. I love you! Even when you are cross with me and I with you I will always love you with an unrelenting passion. Even if you should reject me, I will never stop loving you, for I have no choice in the matter. Surely there must be worse fates and than to love one so unconditionally.”

You stood before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as plates and welling with tears. You tried to speak but couldn’t. So many thoughts rushed to your mind, memories of your many years as friends, every occasion where you felt what he described. There were too many to count. So instead of speaking, you simply took a step forward, pulled him in by his tie and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so passionate you knew right then it would become the subject of many sonnets and paintings from Benedict’s part. You felt as if all the golden light which bathed the garden was now wrapped around your heart.

“I wish this moment could last forever.” you said, a joyful tear streaming down your cheek. 

Benedict laughed like a shy schoolboy as he wrapped his arms around you like a man starved and pulled you impossibly close. “Well, my love.” he beamed. “Forever has just begun.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd @marvel-r5 @marimarvelfan

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton

[disasterbuck]

Oohhh for the prompts I'd love to see Buddie with the sidewalk rule 👀🥰

I'm so glad you chose the sidewalk rule because I had an idea for that one right after I reblogged the prompt post 😂

I hope you like it!! 💕

the sidewalk rule

established Buddie | 645 words

Buck was chatting away, his hands waving this way and that, and Eddie had a smile on his face as he walked beside him. They'd decided to walk down to the coffee shop on the corner of Buck's street together, to treat themselves after their long shift before Eddie had to leave to pick Chris up from school.

As he talked, Buck walked backwards in front of Eddie for a few steps before ending up on his other side.

"—and then it was introduced to England in like, the late 1700s," Buck was saying. How he'd gotten started on the history of dominoes, Eddie didn't know, but he definitely wasn't complaining. He could happily listen to Buck talk for hours about anything. "And it was all over the world by 1889! And although it originated in China, it's now way more popular in France and Belgium."

"And the Buckley-Diaz household," Eddie chimed in with a wink, referring to the set of dominoes Buck and Chris had been playing with for the past three weeks and making Buck blush.

While he was briefly distracted, Eddie gently took hold of Buck's wrist and guided him to the other side so that he was back on Eddie's left and Eddie was walking beside the road.

Buck frowned, then just continued talking about dominoes. But a few steps later, he cut across Eddie's path with a little spin so that he was back on Eddie's right.

With a scowl, Eddie stepped behind him and to the side, forcing Buck left. A giggle left Buck's lips and he ducked in to kiss Eddie quickly, distracting him, before taking the spot on the right again.

"Would you stop?" Eddie exclaimed, coming to a halt.

"Stop what?" Buck asked innocently, a bright grin on his face.

"You know what," Eddie said with a sigh. "Stop swapping sides!"

"Why?" Buck asked, a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

"Because…" Eddie trailed off, feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment. A particularly fast car sped past and he automatically reached out to grab Buck's arm, pulling him further away from the road.

"I didn't know you knew the sidewalk rule," Buck teased.

"The what?" Eddie asked, baffled.

"The sidewalk rule," Buck repeated, as if saying it again would bring any further insight. Thankfully, seeing Eddie's face, he went on – "It's the idea that your boyfriend should walk on the side closest to the road to keep you safe from any hazards."

"I have never heard of that in my life," Eddie said, mouth twisting slightly in disgust. "It sounds misogynistic. And besides, we're both the boyfriend in this relationship."

"Sure," Buck said easily, giving a one-shoulder shrug. "But then, why exactly don't you want me walking on this side?"

Eddie slid his hand down to Buck's, twisting their fingers together. He didn't want to tell Buck the truth; he didn't want Buck's bright and happy mood to be brought down. But…

"Because of Shannon," he said softly. "Because she… I know it doesn't make sense. We're in way more dangerous situations every day. And she wasn't on a sidewalk but on a crossing, so it was different—"

"Hey." Buck stepped right up into his space, cupping his face with his hands. "It's okay. It makes sense to me. If you want me to walk on the other side, I will."

"I do," Eddie admitted.

"Then I will," Buck said. Closing the distance between them, Buck kissed him softly and earnestly.

When they parted, Eddie was surprised to find that Buck had somehow turned them during the kiss without him noticing. He was once again standing between Buck and the road.

"Come on," Buck said, taking Eddie's hand in his and pulling him along the path.

Content, Eddie gently squeezed Buck's hand and listened as he went back to discussing the history of dominoes.

Tags:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @jesuiscenseedormir

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #buck x eddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #buddie 911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie boyfriends #usermoonsharky #as soon as I saw the prompt I just pictured buck and eddie fighting over who gets to stand beside the road #but then I started writing it and was like #hold up!!! #eddie would NOT know about this rule! #AND he'll think it's stupid #disaster writes

[grvyrd-drms]

toby with a s/o who shares a similar trauma to him? if uncomfortable just ignore this rq!

toby rogers x fellow traumatized reader hcs

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A/N: oh no don't worry this is MY TIME TO SHINE THANKS DAD ‼️ i'm projecting a little bit on this one tbh

CW: gn!reader, abuse, borderline personality disorder, shit dads, trauma, ptsd, bullying, mental health issues, etc. just a sad post all around lmao.

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-starting this off by mentioning this is written by someone who had an abusive dad, was severally bullied and has mental disorders. hes literally like me tbh btw fr!!!!

-toby doesn't like to talk about it. his family. school. his mental disorders and tics. he acts like the only life he's ever lived was under the control of slenderman.

-if anything, you would be the one to open up first. if you're a secretive person, just imagine how toby is. you open up about your past, all of your issues etc. and he just.... kind of stares at you. it's uncomfortable at first, and you start to panic and think you overshared or said something triggering.

-then he just sighs, closes his eyes. he doesn't make eye contact with you, just kind of stares into the distance. he mutters a quiet "yeah... i get it. me too." and it's fucking DEPRESSING.

-theres a thick, but comfortable, silence that filled the room. of course you didn't tell him all the details, and he didn't tell you any, but the point got across to both of you that you've both been mistreated.

-from there on toby just kind of studies you. he notices some of your habits are the same as his, flinching at loud sounds or being uncomfortable when you're around angry men. you freeze up when you hear people whispering, and he finally starts to understand why you lock yourself in your room to have panic attacks.

-he's not the world's best therapist, but he's a good listener. he cares about you very much and tries to make it clear by awkwardly offering a shoulder to rest on when you're upset or having unpleasant flashbacks.

-toby's voice gets quiet and his movements become gentler when you're upset about something. he understands what it's like to get like this and knows how to help you (he tries, at least).

for a sprinkle of angst;

-of course he has issues too, and god forbid if you both are having a hard time. it'll be like hell on earth.

-for my bpd fellas, if you've ever dated a person who also has bpd, take that traumatic shit and multiply it by 100.

-toby's bpd is so bad and it's so painful to watch. he'll be freaking out, slamming himself into walls, hurting himself, yelling and crying. he'll split on you, being just a total dickhead.

-of course this will then domino affect, and it'll start making you feel like shit too. give it a few minutes after you freak out and storm off and toby will be crawling back like a pathetic mess. sobbing, begging for you to stay with him, to not leave. he "can't go through that again." his eyes are dark as he clings onto you, he can't stop apologizing. in his eyes, he just made the biggest mistake of his life. which is saying a lot.

-he wants to be good for you. he tries so hard.

#THIS IS SO LONG LMFAO #i projected big time but lets ignore that #hes my babygirl #blorbo :3 #creepypasta #ticci toby #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #toby rogers #ticci toby x y/n #ticci toby fanfic #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers hcs #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby smut

[eluxcastar]

hi ive never written a request before so im sorry if its bad or too vague

could you write a dottore with an adopted child reader? like maybe he found them on the outskirts of a small town and just was like “im adopting you now”?

Dottore slightly dadfailing his way to fatherhood

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore picks up a kid and takes it in like a box kitten

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, reader's backstory is mostly ambiguous, this is literally exactly as is written on the tin

୨୧﹑words :: 753

you're doing just fine honey I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for me to complete this and the fact that it's basically a ramble, I'm just getting back into it so please forgive that it's slightly messy

It was cold when he found you, too cold for a child to wander about unchecked. Little children were never his thing, but scooping you up under your arms like a boneless little ragdoll and carting you off with him that night felt right somehow.

It would be simple to discard you on the doorstep of the House of the Hearth and simply forget you had existed, as that is hardly uncommon in the children there. Being delegated to the orphanage by a Harbinger is usually a visual shorthand: "They had parents once- just yesterday, in fact. Thanks to the Fatui's involvement, they don't anymore."

You're different. Circumstances demand it when Dottore has no access to the House.

Dottore swaddled you in his coat, shedding it in the same motion he scooped you up, carried you back into town where he could set you up on the closest thing you could get to a bed, situated on a chair in the basement where he got you a change of clothes. You didn't ask where they came from or what he did with your old clothes.

A bath of warm water did you well, easing the chill in your bones and washing away the dirt sticking to your skin. You popped the soapy bubbles with your fingers and sat quietly as the water ran over you. Dottore is good at giving baths, experienced from the days of sterilising subjects.

It's nice to feel clean. Dottore let you get out on your own and dress yourself in a fresh change of clothes.

The pillows were thin, blankets not enough to keep out the cold, but for the first night, he let you keep his coat.

Perhaps he intended to turn you over at that time, but a month has passed, and nothing has happened. You thought Dottore would be cold and distant, but he lets you poke around and play with things befitting a child. You watch and observe what he does but don't understand it. Many ask, and he evades answering.

Dottore isn't one for affection, not typically, and you've given up on having him read to you or play with you. It's not in his nature to treat you too softly. You have to be self-sufficient because his work demands it, and while he can monitor you, he can't stop to cut the crust off your sandwiches or do any more than offer that you sit by his side when you get scared.

He cares, but not typically. At first, it's almost...comforting how little he tries to push you into normalcy when you're so used to being by yourself. You can wander and aren't coddled too much beyond being unable to get into dangerous things.

You're well-fed and well-dressed, and you get to listen to Scaramouche, the strange doll man when he comes down. By all means, you are well-kept for a child. Apparently, it is because he got attached, as Scaramouche put it.

You don't quite understand how that could motivate him until he points out everything he's done, from making you comfortable to buying you clothes and even embracing you as his own. Rearranging the way he stores things to practically babyproof his lab was a feat just so you could wander around it safely in a place where he can watch you easily. How could he give you up? He obviously has no intention to.

It feels like the lightbulb to your little mind that sets off a domino effect as you look around you and start to realise these things. There is almost the sense that, despite Dottore’s informality towards his role as a father, Dottore doesn't want to give you up to the orphanage and maybe never did in the first place.

He likes it when you pester him and have to rely on him. He set everything that could kill you on the highest possible shelf, took note of the clothes you didn't like, the foods that put you off eating and collected the blankets he could find to make your bed more cosy, the occasional toy, plenty of visitors coming in and out to listen to. It's always warm where you sit.

Dottore let you keep borrowing his coat to sleep under, and you even convinced him to read you a storybook, if only once. There are many nights you fall asleep somewhere and wake up wrapped up in blankets and his coat, just as you like.

It seems very pleasant to live this way.

#♡ — anon visit. #✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 17: Spanking/Exhibitionism(Give me your hands, 'cause you're wonderful...)

warnings/kinks: spanking, pussy spanking, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism word count: 0.8k pairings: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader/Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader teaser: “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do exactly as I say,” His voice is very husky and deep, but there’s a seriousness to it that makes you know that you’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen to him./ “Don’t be quiet,” he whispers in your ear. “Scream for me, baby.” taglist: @beneathstarryskies. @loki-love. @witchofcustom. @dreadsuitsamus. @pyrofanatic @butterflieskeepcominback a/n: Dick's fic is under the cut! This is two short kinktober submissions

You lay awake at night in your bed, wondering if you’d ever see him again. You had riled him up so badly the last time only to be interrupted. Despite the fact that you could have just waited for him, you decided to leave. This caused him to become very frustrated with you and he knew he’d get even with you.

So when he crawls into your bedroom that night, your excitement quickly turns into nervousness. You aren’t sure what kind of punishment awaits you. Jason takes off his armor and domino mask, showing you the smug look on his face.

“Jay, baby…” you whimper before he kisses you roughly.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do exactly as I say,” His voice is very husky and deep, but there’s a seriousness to it that makes you know that you’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen to him.

You nod your head, unable to say anything right now. He bites your bottom lip before maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. Already you’re so wet from him manhandling you.

“Take off your pants and panties, baby,”

You don’t even hesitate. You know it could be even worse for you if you were to talk back or even to defy him. Once your plump ass is bared to him, you hear him take a deep inhale.

“Oh I’ve got you whipped, don’t I?”

Before you can say anything, you feel his large hand coming down to slap your ass. This makes you cry out, arching your back a little. The pain feels so good, but it was so sudden and so intense. You feel his other hand tangling in your hair, pulling you back a little. Jason presses a kiss to your throat before he goes back to spanking you.

“Wanna hear you counting them, baby. Count them for me.”

You cry out when he spanks your ass once more, and he begins to play with your wet pussy. You know you’ll have to do exactly as he says or else you’ll be in for a very long night.

So you begin counting his spanks, and soon your perky ass turns from pink to an angry red. It’s not long before he begins to rub your skin to soothe it just a little, then he pushes one of his fingers into you.

“I just don’t think you’ve learned your lesson just yet…” 

You yelp as he pulls out of you and spanks your pussy, hitting your clit. Something about this is so new and exciting. You want more.

“Count ‘em for me,” Jason demands as he spanks your ass once more. “Or else, I won’t fuck you.”

Sneaking around with Dick is a lot of fun. His ability to keep you concealed whenever he’s out on the town makes it so much fun. He hides you from prying eyes a lot of the time. Until you and him find the perfect spot to put your love on display. He loves being able to find these spots where if people were to look in the right direction, they’d be able to see you getting fucked so good.

Tonight was no exception. After hiding you from all these eyes, he finally finds the perfect alleyway to push you up against the wall. He’s excited and he’s rock hard. Dick’s been thinking about this all day, knowing he’d get his chance to fuck you in public like this.

“Ahh, such a good little girl,” he whispers in your ear as he shoves your skirt up over your hips.

You let out a cute little groan when his long fingers begin playing with your already wet pussy through your cotton panties. It’s thrilling to do something like this out in the open like this. The cool night air feels so good on your exposed skin as well.

Your eyes roll back when he shoves two of his fingers into your cunt, pushing them just to the spot that makes you shudder. He begins to pump them in and out at a rate that makes your thighs almost give out. Then when he thinks you’re adequately aroused, he pulls his cock out and plunges so deep inside of you. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you as he starts to fuck you so hard. The cold brick of the building begins to dig into your skin.

You let out the sweetest moans that are just music to his ears. He loves showing off like this. Just pushing into you until you’re screaming for more…or for him to stop. Either way, anyone passing by will know just how good you’re getting fucked and that’s just like damn catnip to him.

“Don’t be quiet,” he whispers in your ear. “Scream for me, baby.”

He lets his hand sneak between your thighs to begin playing with your swollen, aching clit so that you begin to cry out in even more pleasure. Nothing could be more perfect than this.

#bacon.writes #Jason todd x you #Jason todd x reader #dick Grayson x you #dick Grayson x reader #Jason todd smut #dick Grayson smut #kinktober 2023

[ghostofhyuck]

Nct Dream as Taylor Swift songs

AN: As a swiftie, this is the best!! I did made a series but instead of songs, it's Taylor Swift's albums. This is hard tbh TT TT and all of these are based on my opinion. TT TT

Mark Lee ; Everything has changed

And all I feel In my stomach is butterflies The beautiful kind, makin' up for lost time

Yes, as cliche as it may sounds but Mark Lee is Everything has changed. The guitar? the lyrics? yes, that's Mark Lee. EHC feels like a right person, wrong timing type of love, and it suits Mark you know??? Because this feels like meeting them again after years of separating and realizing how much you two had grown!!! that's why second chances exist and Mark will do anything for second chances!!

Huang Renjun ; Gold rush

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes

Renjun is evermore-coded even though he's a summer boy. I just think that Renjun suits Gold Rush so much. He's everything and everyone loves loves him so much! There's so much delicateness in Gold Rush that it feels like falling in love for the first time, and Renjun is such a first love-coded that's why he suits Gold Rush. 

Lee Jeno ; Call it what you want

I recall late November, holding my breath Slowly I said, "You don't need to save me But would you run away with me?"

I was torn between end game or call it what you want. End game because you know, big reputations LOL but I chose Call it what you want because it feels like a quiet type of romance. Something serene and tranquil in the midst of the noise. Something about finding the right person when the world is against you is just the type of romance Jeno would have!! TT TT Especially the bridge part?? It's just so Jeno-coded, he'll run away with you instead of saving you. 

Lee Donghyuck ; Afterglow

Tell me that you're still mine Tell me that we'll be just fine Even when I lose my mind

Haechan is so Afterglow. It's beautiful yet heartbreaking. I don't know how to explain it but I think  that Haechan's type of love is like the lyrics of Afterglow. TT TT Especially the bridge!! It's so Haechan-coded!!! It's like a word of affirmation type of love even though it hurts but hey, Haechan will assure you that everything will be fine. 

Na Jaemin ; "Slut!"

The wrong place at the right time And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

"Everyone wants him, that was my crime." that's it. that's the line. JK. I mean Jaemin is so 1989-coded and it was HARD to choose a song for him. But I think "Slut!" suits him so much because come on now, you're willing to throw yourself on Jaemin and wouldn't care about the people around. He's just so "Slut!"-coded especially how love struck the lyrics can be!!! It's just feels like you're so drunk in love with Jaemin. 

Zhong Chenle ; Long Live

Long live the walls we crashed through I had the time of my life, with you

Chenle's is just that mixture of fun, youthful, and reminiscing, that's why he's so Long Live-coded!!! I think that Chenle will like Long Live and he's the type to love every moment of his life. Like, he's just there having fun and everything's going on his way. He's energetic too!! The song is very sentimental despite the upbeat instrumental that's why I think it suits Chenle the most. 

Park Jisung ; Forever & Always

And then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all And you flashback to when we said forever and always

Jisung is just so fearless-coded! He's very first love-coded with the hint of high school love and domesticity!! that's why forever & always suit him so much. Nostalgic, lively, and one of Taylor Swift's old albums! That's why I feel like loving Jisung is like listening to forever & always. The lyrics feels like a love story of young love which suits Jisung so so much. Clumsy, forgetful, and full of promises. 

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #nct drabbles #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

[scoobydoodean]

Okay so in 1.03 Dead In The Water, there's this exchange Sam and Dean have at one point in regards to Lucas—the little boy who watched his dad drown, who Dean connects with during the episode:

DEAN Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died. SAM There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies. DEAN Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.

And the last time I watched this episode, I went "Oh cool! A little Psychic!Sam Easter Egg." Right? Sam goes through the traumatic experience of losing Jess, and he's tapped into "whatever's out there" (the yellow eyed demon) and he's having premonitions about what he's going to do next. Which definitely makes a lot of sense.

But when I was gif-ing stuff from 1.03 today, I realized that... funnily enough, within the context of this episode we also have some fun stuff relating to the "slightly psychic Dean" posts that have gone around this year... Or if you prefer, Cassandra!Dean. Cassandra, in reference to the prophet in Greek myth, cursed by Apollo to utter true prophecies but never be believed.

Dean often knows when bad things are going to happen in Supernatural. He doesn't have visions—but he has "bad feelings" and makes predictions that turn out to be scarily accurate at times. Of course we can infer that Dean is just good at 1) reading people and 2) understanding how sequences of events tumble one by one in a row like so many dominoes. It's another sign of his incredible intelligence. But it IS fun to think about Dead In The Water as the first indication of Cassandra!Dean.

First, because Lucas has premonitions, and Lucas and Dean are paralleled and connect on an emotional level.

Dean and Lucas have similar traumatic childhood experiences. Both watched a parent die and both lost the ability to speak afterwards:

DEAN You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Dean is able to connect with Lucas through their shared traumatic experience. He's the only one who's able to get through to him—and after a short conversation and just drawing together for a while—much to his mom's shock. Dean is able to understand what Lucas is feeling without Lucas saying it.

Second, because Lucas has bad feelings that tell him the locations where the spirit will strike next, but no one listens to/believes him.

...Kind of like people usually don't listen to/believe Dean's bad feelings.

DEAN Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.

Of course, this line is just Dean paralleling Lucas with himself and his own reasons for not speaking, but it must hit home, because Lucas begins communicating with Dean through drawings.

Further, despite Sam also knowing Lucas is having premonitions, when Lucas reacts with extreme distress to the idea of going home and clings to Dean desperately, Sam still... doesn't think it means anything. He thinks the case is over.

Third, Dean has a bad feeling that the case isn't over, and Sam doesn't believe him.

The sheriff had just threatened to arrest them if they stayed in town, so of course going back to town is a big deal. When Dean turns around based on a bad feeling, Sam thinks he's just being paranoid.

SAM But Dean, this job, I think it's over. DEAN I'm not so sure. SAM If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest. DEAN All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt? SAM But why would you think that? DEAN Because Lucas was really scared. SAM That's what this is about?

Dean sticks to his guns, and they arrive just in time to save Lucas's mother from drowning in a bathtub.

#1.03 #he is literally cassandra #pk rewatches spn number ? #parallels #season 1

[corpsebasil]

Bonnie and Clyde Part 2

Ghostface’s girlfriend may not be a killer, but she’s the brain of the operation.

You lay on the couch, your feet propped against the cushions as you stare at the tv, scrolling through Hulu. You’d never felt so bored in your life. It felt like you’d been on house arrest the past few days. The only time you could leave was between one to four am and even then, Wayne wouldn’t let you do anything but walk around the block.

The front door opened with a rustling noise and you groaned, moving to prop yourself up on your elbow. Ethan entered the apartment, grocery bags on his arms, and gave you a smile as he moved to set the bags down in the kitchen.

“Ethan,” you called out, standing up and following him. “Ethan I cant take this anymore.”

“Take what?” He asked, oblivious to your frustration.

“I feel like a prisoner.” You scoffed, moving around the counter to help him put up groceries. “I swear to god I’m going to lose my mind.”

“This was your idea.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “How are you supposed to be dead if they see you out walking around?”

“But how much longer?” You whined, dropping your head on his shoulder. “I want in on the action.”

“No.” Ethan scoffed, pulling away from you to put a bottle of wine in the fridge. “There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near a knife. Or a Ghostface costume.”

“So Quinn gets one but I don’t?”

“You were the one who said you didn’t want to kill.” Ethan sighed, turning to rest his back against the counter. “Now you’ve changed your mind?”

“I would recreate Saw if it meant I could leave this fucking apartment.”

Ethan laughed and moved towards you, pressing a kiss against your mouth. Then another, then another as you clutched his shirt, holding him to you.

"Relax, okay?" He murmured, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away. "Listen, I'll talk to my dad. You know how he is. But you're the one who's coming up with all the ideas—we can’t risk you.” Then he laughed. “I’m pretty sure Richie would come back from the dead and beat my ass if you got hurt.”

"Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I want to be holed up." You argued, glaring at him. “It was my idea for Richie to get with Sam. Mine. I’m the one that found her in Modesto. I’m the one who convinced Amber to join in. Don’t you think I can handle this?”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He said, frustrated. “I’m just saying you’re more useful as the mastermind behind this whole thing.” He tilted his head, smirking. “Besides. You look so much prettier without a knife in you. Sam seems pretty hell-bent on killing us all.”

“Ugh.” You groaned. You went to the couch and flopped down on it.

“The theater shit is happening tomorrow.” Ethan said, walking over to run a hand down your leg. “It’s almost over, okay?”

“I want in, E.” You said, glaring up at him. “I’m tired of waiting for—”

The front door opened and you sat up, staring as Wayne and Quinn entered, a Domino’s pizza box in Wayne’s hands. Quinn immediately rushed over to you and you barely had time to screech before she was pouncing, laughing as the two of you fell off the couch and onto the livingroom floor.

“Bitch!” You gasped, laughing as the two of you rolled a couple of inches and Quinn pinned you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Someone promised me they’d have a Stab marathon.” She said, raising a brow at you. “For inspo. Pizza and a movie?” She wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes but grinned.

“Fine. Fine. Get off me.” You said, sitting up as Wayne brought the pizza into the Livingroom.

"Stop harassing Y/N." Wayne scolded, passing you a plate as Ethan moved to sit on the ground next to you, immediately pulling you onto his lap.

"She doesn't look bothered." Quinn said, sending you a teasing smile as she got herself a slice and turned on the tv. You stuck your tongue out at her, wiggling in Ethan's lap as his arms looped around your middle.

"Stop moving like that." Ethan murmured, nipping the top of your ear as you squeaked. Quinn made a retching sound as Wayne valiantly ignored you, preferring to watch the intro to Stab over watching his son get handsy. "What's your favorite scary movie, Y/N?"

"You two make me sick." Quinn grumbled, and you laughed.

-

The next night you sat on Ethan's bed as he got dressed, shoving the Ghostface costume into his backpack. He was about to leave to join up with the Core Four, a term that you secretly loathed.

"You sure I can't come?" You asked, pouting as you watched him get his stuff together. "It would be funny. The big reveal."

"If something goes wrong you can keep up the act." Ethan said, moving over to drop a kiss onto your head. "Someone has to make sure we win this time. If we don't come back, you'll say we kidnapped you or something."

"That sounds like the lamest alibi ever." You scoffed. "Kidnapped? Really?"

"Well I don't know, maybe you were kidnapped."

"I practically roleplayed as a human bowling ball when you threw me at Tara."

"You're a talented actress."

"I want to go."

"No."

"Ethan."

"Y/N."

You stared each other down for a moment, his dark expression matching your own, before he pulled his knife out of his backpack and moved closer to you. You ignored the flutter in your stomach at the wicked gleam in his eyes. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer, before he slowly lifted his hand to run the tip of his knife across your cheek.

"You're staying here." He murmured, brown eyes fixed on the tip of the blade as he moved it to rest on your bottom lip. The blade was cold and, when your tongue darted out to lick the dangerous point, Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You're just as sadistic as me, you know that?" He asked, putting his knife away as you grinned. "Fucking love you."

"Love you." You breathed back, kissing him hard until a knock hit the door and Quinn said it was time to go. "Fuck em' up, baby." You said, kissing Ethan one last time before he grabbed his bag and left for the theater.

So you sat on the couch when they left, bidding them happy hunting, and scrolled through your phone. And you waited, all night, for Ethan to come home.

BOOYAAA part THREE

tags

@tsukilover11 @user27017201172 @nellyboosworld @gcldtom @xyzstar @iheartemmaroberts @heart-an0n @sadieswifenocaplol @laylasbunbunny @isaidoop @marijulila @just-here-to-read-fanfictions @pumpk1n-writes @burningfanflowercash

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ghostface #scream six

[pixqlsin]

hi jaebae :> (kill me) wait that's not my req WAHAHAHHAHAHA ok

so what if a fic of you and miles passing notes to each other in class, and miles just keeps trying to rizz you up but it's not working (it's actually quite pathetic in your opinion) so he just straight up asks you, forgetting the fact you two were in class, "damn man how can i get you to say yes to go out with me?"

the whole class stares. and he's a deer in headlights. and you're laughing, and in love, and considering a date with him :>>>

rizzless notes ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

pairing: earth 1610 miles morales x fem!reader

summary: miles trying to rizz you up during math class

authors notes: i assumed 1610 miles as he as broken rizz (no offense i love him) and also i feel like 42 would have hella rizz. anyway this wasn’t my best writing but i hope you enjoy it!! ty for the request <3 this was also a little short so i’m sorry 🙁

the girl sat in class, next to one of her classmates she was kinda friends with. meaning they would talk at times but never hung out he was cute n all but way out of her league

she let out a small huff as she stared at the clock tapping her foot awaiting the moment the bell would ring, the silence broke as she heard a crumble of a paper pass over to her.

the girl turned her head over to see a paper crumpled up next to her. she looked around quickly to assure no teacher was looking, snatched the paper and read the note.

the note revealing: “hii do u have the question for number 8?” the note read with an ending part saying “—miles” so it was from miles.

the girl sighed realizing she hasn’t even started on the paper that was given approximately 10 minutes ago, the girl picked her pencils up before writing back. “no but i’ll figure it out”

she handed the note back to miles, occasional crumple were heard as some students turned around to discover the noise was from miles.

she got thrown back the note and opened it discovering neat handwriting saying: “oh okay, you doing anything tonight?” the girl giggled a little causing a domino effect of students to glance at her.

the girl silenced herself as she realized she was being watched and quickly wrote back: “do you want the answer or not” in messy ish handwriting.

handing back the paper earned a chuckle from the boy next to her. “sorry :( and please” he wrote back before passing it back.

the classroom was silent as they watched the two pass notes back and forth, not bothering to snitch as this was a cute moment.

“it’s 60 ♡” she wrote back, smiling a little at her final touch of the heart, you know why not? she didn’t like him? she just didn’t it for fun? right?

the boy was FLUSHED when he saw just the heart, everyone in the class knew he was head over heels for the girl he sat next to. except the girl. she was clueless to say the least.

the nervous boy wrote back, “thank you i owe you. how about a movie tomorrow movie?” he said trying again for atleast a hangout or even a date.

it felt like lover by taylor swift was playing dimly behind this moment, everyone was staring even the teacher was kinda listening.

the girl hummed at the note writing back sloppily, “nu uh” she wrote quickly sliding it back like she didn’t even interact with him.

she heard a series of groaning and sighing before being slid back a paper saying, “damn ma, how many times am i gonna have to ask you out?” he wrote putting a ;) at the end to be cocky you know?

the girl opened the paper back up and giggled a little smiling also. “alright fine we can go see a movie :))” she wrote back, blush hinting at her cheeks as she passed the note back nervously waiting on a response.

a quiet “yes” was heard next to her. success. he wrote back “okay here’s my number and we can talk about it from there?” he wrote putting his number next to the sentence.

the class was relieved something happened, they couldn’t go another day with Miles gawking over his table mate.

idk how to end it so end 😫

please do not steal or repost on another platform. reblogs are appreciated

taglist: @zalayni @fictarian @jrrantss @luvstarrstruck @laylasbunbunny

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales appreciation #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles angst #into the spiderverse